#jaeno

[threeletterslife]

23 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nation—otherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of blood, gore, suicide and death

⨰ wordcount: 5.7k

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⧖⧗Circa Alexandrite⧗⧖

“What happened?!” you shriek, barging into the General’s tent, tears already blurring your vision. From the haze, you still manage to make out a cot in the middle. What you can’t make out is the person on the cot, for there seems to be a thick wall of healers surrounding it, tending to a single man who makes no indication that he is okay.

It’s also eerily silent. 

Your voice becomes so painfully loud in comparison. “Is he alive?” Your words seem to echo across the tent, bouncing against the red walls. Several healers grimace.

“Please, sir, you need to leave.”

Leave? How in the hell are they asking you to leave? Without even knowing if he’ll make it? “Please tell me what happened,” you say, voice aquiver. “Was it a transformation spell?? Have you stopped it?”

“Y/N!” Suhyun suddenly rushes into the tent, grabbing one of your arms while Jaeno seizes the other. “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes to the healers. “We tried to stop her.” She turns to you, a grave look on her face. “You need to listen to me, Y/N,” she says. “Let the healers deal with whatever they have to deal with in peace. The last thing we want is for the soldiers to panic. We’ve already detained Soldier Baek and Soldier Kim to stop the spread of information. We don’t want any rumors. He’s the last of the Min Clan, do you hear me, Y/N? And if… if worse comes to worst, you need to hold yourself together. Please. Get your fucking shit together!”

“Suhyun…”

She’s never spoken so harshly to you before.

“I-I just want to… I want to see him. I—”

Even Suhyun looks close to tears. She shakes her head. “They’re going to heal him,” she whispers. But it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself as well as you, and it’s not quite working on both ends. She turns to her boyfriend, her lips trembling. “Jaeno. I-I’m… I’m not ready. I don’t think I can do it. If he dies, I—”

“O-Off… icer,” a ghastly voice whispers.

That’s you.

He’s calling you.

All too soon, you’re forcing yourself away from Suhyun and Jaeno’s grasps and running towards the cot where he rests. All eyes are on you, but for the first time, you don’t care at all. And when you manage to push through the circle of healers, you finally see him.

The sight is grisly. 

He’s been stripped of the upper half of his uniform, only in his white tank top drenched in so much sweat that it does little to hide the gruesome bruises and scars littered all across his torso. His face is pale and streaked with blood and dirt, and his wet hair clings to his forehead. His eyes are open yet so empty, so void.

Your stomach drops. 

You’ve seen this look on the injured in the medical tent. The look of death.

The culprit is the pool of viscous red oozing out of his right shoulder.

It sizzles. It crackles. And it burns.

It can’t possibly be blood. Blood doesn’t do that.

Your skin turns icy cold when you realize what it really is.

Lava. It’s lava.

But why? Why him? Why now? 

You want to sink to your knees. Yet you can’t. Not with him in front of you. If anything, you need to be there for him. Because he’s undeniably in a worse state than you are. He’s probably convinced that death will soon come knocking at his door. He might be scared. Or even terrified. Or maybe he’s welcoming death with open arms as he said he would nearly two years ago. You’re not sure.

But you selfishly want him to hang on. You want him alive. There are so many things you haven’t been able to tell him, so many feelings to face, so many emotions to accept… 

“I-I’m here, sir,” you whisper. You hate that you stuttered, and you hate the way he stares at the ceiling with those empty, glassy eyes of his.

His lips twitch momentarily. “It…” he breathes, “it doesn’t… h-hurt much anymore.”

That can only mean the heat has already damaged his nerves.

It breaks you, seeing him like this. You want to grab onto his hand, sweep his hair out of his face, hug him, lava on his shoulder or not—but it’s all nothing more than a pipe dream.

“O-Officer,” he murmurs in his husky voice. Though he’s calling you, he feels so far away—as if he’s calling for you in his dreams again. As if he’s already drifting off to be with the spirits. When he slowly blinks, a rogue tear rolls down the side of his face. “D-Don’t worry… I’m… f-fine.”

Something inside of you snaps.

All of your fear, anxiety and emotions seem to vanish into thin air—replaced by sheer determination. You grit your teeth. Even on his deathbed, he wants to protect you, make sure you’re not worried. But you won’t let him die. You can’t. There are too many unresolved duties, questions, feelings.

You whirl around to face the healers who have been wordlessly extracting the seemingly endless stream of lava coming from the General’s shoulder. “How long has it been?” 

“Thirty minutes, sir,” one of the healers says. 

“He was hit in the shoulder by one of the transformation spheres while in battle,” another healer says. “They rushed him back as soon as it happened. As soon as they realized it was serious.”

“We’ve been extracting the lava with fire wielding, but it won’t stop.”

“It’s spreading, too, sir. Slowly, but steadily. He hasn’t gone into shock yet, but he’s lost feeling in his shoulder… It’s not looking great.”

“Thirty minutes…” you echo. “Thirty minutes,” you say again as you glance at the General once more. “The lava should’ve overtaken more than half of his body by now. Their transformation magic is usually much faster than this.”

“Y-Yes, sir, the spread is much slower than what we usually see, but it’s persistent. We’ve never been able to save a soldier once they’ve been hit by transformation magic.”

“Are you saying it’s a lost cause?” you ask in the most even-toned voice you can muster up. Behind you, Suhyun lets out a wail, followed by Jaeno attempting to solace her.

It’s silent. 

Everybody is scared to answer your question. They all look down at their feet.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You can’t just let him die. Not after you declared that you’d follow him until you died. Not after you told him that you don’t want to lose him too. Words leave your mouth in desperation: “Have we thought about amputating?”

“T-That never works, sir… The transformation spell still spreads throughout the rest of the body.”

Shit. Is it really a lost cause? It can’t possibly be. Your mind races as you scavenge for another solution—any solution. Something has to work. Something has the potential to save his life. You glance at him. His breaths are growing more and more rapid and he seems to be dipping in and out of consciousness. Yet his eyes are wide open. They’re staring into you too, but you can’t discern a meaning behind them at all. They’re empty. Soulless. Your heart clenches in a pain you’ve only ever felt one other time—when Doyun passed. But this is different. You can prevent this. You’ve still got time.

“There should be a reason that this transformation spell is reacting slower than the others,” you say. “He should be dead by now if this had been a normal spell. We need to examine where the sphere hit him. There’s a high possibility that he was hit by a faulty spell, so we should be looking for some sort of evidence. It’s not a lost cause until he’s pronounced dead.”

“Yes, sir!”

The healers spring into action. Several of them hold down the General’s body as the others who are capable of fire wielding begin extracting the lava from his shoulder. The General makes no noise. He barely even blinks.

“His blood pressure’s dropping!”

“Get him some more oxygen!”

“H-His lips are turning blue!”

“Someone get him a blanket!”

“He’s hyperventilating!”

“He could be going into shock soon—”

“W-Wait! Wait! There’s something there!”

Your heart leaps.

“T-There! That glistening thing!”

You’re immediately by the sharp-eyed healer’s side. “Can we extract it? Is it safe to touch?”

“We have some air mediums, sir. We’ll get on it right away.”

You watch, barely even blinking as the healers begin the arduous process of dislodging the mysterious fragment in the General’s shoulder. The first few tries are a failure—only because the fragment periodically spurts out lava. When the healers are able to time their extraction—in the short, two-minute interval the fragment of the sphere has before it spews lava—the mission finally succeeds. 

The tiny sphere—or what’s left of it—falls to the floor, where it spurts out some more hot lava. The ground sizzles. There’s a short moment of silence where everybody takes in the miracle. Then:

“He’s going into shock!” a healer yells.

“Is he conscious?”

“Sir? Sir!”

“Negative! Someone get him ready for a blood transfusion!”

“Why in Soo’s name are you just standing there? Get moving!”

You don’t understand much of what is going on, but you stay the entire while. Even when the healers have left—encapsulating the lava-spewing fragment in a water bubble and taking it with them—you stay in the tent. You’re not sure what time it is now. You’ve lost track ever since you walked in. In fact, you’ve lost track of everything since the moment you received the news of his injury.

All that matters now is that the General is alive and breathing. He’s unconscious at the moment, but you’ve volunteered to watch over him until he wakes up. They’re not sure when.

You hope that it’s soon. Because each second that he stays in that position, covered up in bandages and blankets, you think he’s a second closer to death. It won’t matter how long he stays unconscious, however. Because you swear to every spirit in existence that you won’t leave his side until he wakes up.

“She’s been in there for three days,” Suhyun sighs. She nervously plays with her rings, twisting them back and forth around her fingers. “She hasn’t eaten a thing.”

“She’s always been close to the General,” Wonmi says.

“She has?”

“Yes,” the third sector captain insists. 

“Is that so?” Suhyun frowns. “But what she’s doing… That’s what I would do for Jaeno. That’s what Ohsung’s done for you, Wonmi.”

“I never said anything about it being not platonic,” Wonmi answers.

Suhyun stares at Wonmi in disbelief. 

“It’s only a hunch,” Wonmi says while casually fixing her bangs. “And besides, officer romance is the least of our problems. Y/N’s reported that he woke several times now, but he never notices that she’s there. He talks, though. Just not to her.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to tell the soldiers,” Suhyun says. She fiddles with her rings, looking down at her feet. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope. If… If he dies, Wonmi, I’ll be his natural successor.”

“Good for you, then.”

“No, Wonmi, it won’t be good for me. I’ve always dreamed about being the General of the Solarian Army, but now that it’s so close to me… I can’t. I don’t want it like this. It’s too soon. I can’t be as great as he was.”

“You’re talking about him as if he’s already dead, Suhyun,” Wonmi snorts. “I think you’ll be a fine General. When it happens, it happens. You’ll be ready then. For now, we wait. Only time can tell if he’ll be all right.”

But time moves slowly when all she can do is wait.

Suhyun has to wait another six days before the General is able to form coherent sentences. He’s still far too weak to be up and walking around—she’s heard that he can barely sit up from his bed. When she finally finds enough courage inside of her to visit him in his tent, he welcomes her amiably, albeit weakly.

“Long time no see, Lieutenant Ki,” he croaks from his position on the cot.

“Sir,” she greets him back with a deep bow. “How are you feeling?”

“Light-headed,” he says. “Still can’t really feel my right shoulder. But I’m scheduled for physical therapy for the next three circas. Apparently, I’ve acquired fourth-degree burns—internal and external. No major organ damage, though. I was lucky.”

“You were more than lucky, General,” Suhyun says. “It was a miracle! We’ve been investigating the fragment of the sphere we extracted from your shoulder. Whoever cast the transformation spell only achieved a partial version of it. If the spell had been fully cast, we wouldn’t have been able to extract the sphere at all! It was a miracle that only an incomplete spell hit you—and so shallowly, too. And that Captain Ryu found out and was able to direct the healers so expertly.”

“Ah,” the General says. “Yes, Captain Ryu…”

“She was there for you when I couldn’t be,” Suhyun admits, lowering her head. “I’m sorry, General. I wasn’t thinking straight at the moment. I was too engrossed with the fact that I wasn’t ready to take your place… And clearly, judging by my reaction that night, I was right.”

“You handled it well, Lieteunant Ki,” the General says. “You give yourself too little credit. You ensured that the news of my injury did not get out prematurely. You ensured that no one panicked. No one knew what happened until I was okay. I think that’s a feat in itself.”

“General…”

“It was an unprecedented situation, Lieutenant Ki. Don’t be too hard on yourself… You will have to take on some of my responsibilities, however. I won’t be getting up anytime soon. It’ll be up to you to share my duties with the other officers. I trust you, Suhyun,” the General says. He clears his throat. “And I’m sorry. I know how worried you were. I know you don’t think you’re ready yet to take my place. But Lieutenant Ki, I believe that those who think they are not ready for higher positions are usually better-fitted than those who think they are.”

Suhyun can’t help but think that’s true. When she was younger, when she had too much ambition and nowhere to channel it but her pride, she was arrogant and uncompromising. She would’ve made a tyrant of a General—just like the current General’s brother and his mother, too. But she respects her General because he often doubts himself. Because he opens his ears to others. Yet he can be decisive when he must be, and he knows how to command an army without being unnecessarily swayed. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be as good as he is because her pride does often get in her way. But she’s working on it. And by the time the position comes to her, she hopes she will lead the army as great as the General has.

“Thank you, sir,” she says. “Thank you.”

He nods. “You’ll have to lead the officer meetings until I am well enough to get up, Lieutenant Ki. I trust that you can handle that.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll report back to you as soon as they finish.”

“Thank you,” he says. 

There’s an awkward silence where she’s unsure whether she is allowed to leave without his dismissal, and he’s unsure what she’s waiting for if she looks like she has nothing else to say. 

When you rush into the tent, carrying a clay tray filled with food, Incha and rolled-up wet cloths, you nearly drop it and its contents once you notice Suhyun. “O-Oh!” you exclaim, looking between her and the General nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt something serious. I’ll come back later—”

“No,” the General says so quickly that Suhyun raises her eyebrows. “We were finished,” he says. “You may stay.” He nods to Suhyun. “Send my apologies to the officers for me.”

“Yes, General,” she says, and with a bow, she quickly dismisses herself from the General’s tent. She looks back as she walks away, cocking her head in curiosity. You didn’t even announce your arrival before you’d stepped into his tent. Even Suhyun’s never done that, and she’s supposedly his right-hand-officer. How close are the two of you, anyway? And for you to be taking care of him every day and not some healers…? But then again, he has historically refused private medical treatment, and even convincing him to be treated in his tent and not the common medical tents took some adamant persuading; so maybe you’re doing both of them a favor.

Regardless, Wonmi is definitely correct. There’s something there—between you and the General. But it’s also none of Suhyun’s business, and while she cares for the General, she has no say in his private matters. Yet… she can’t help but wonder… has his decision to keep you from fighting been completely personal this entire time?

“How have you been feeling, sir?” you ask as you set the tray down at the General’s desk and perch up upon it as well.

“I swear I had this same conversation just moments ago with Lieutenant Ki,” he says in such a serious voice that you worry that you’ve bored him already. 

It takes you several embarrassing seconds to realize he’s joking. “O-Oh! Then I’d be happy to let you take the reins of the conversation, sir.”

“Why, thank you, Officer,” he says, a small smile already appearing on his lips. “I wasn’t able to, due to my delirious state before, but now that I am alive and recovering, I wanted to ask you: do you still wish to fight after having seen what they’ve done to me?”

He looks surprised that your initial reaction is to laugh. “Sir! Are you trying to use your injury to deter me from ever considering going out on the battlefield again?”

“Is it working, Officer?”

“Not in the slightest, sir,” you reply. “In fact, it has given me more reason to want to fight, for if you are hurt, we’ll need more people out there to make up for what you can do.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Even after seeing me in my worst state—hallucinations and all—you still want to fight? You really are a fire medium; you know that?”

You nod fervently. “Nothing will make me change my mind.”

“I know how stubborn you can be,” the General says. He pauses just slightly but it’s enough for you to notice. “When… When I was dipping in and out of consciousness, I’m not sure when, I remember seeing you. I thought it was one of the hallucinations. I… I might have called for you, Officer.”

“Which time are you referring to, sir?” you ask. 

His ears turn red as he stutters just a bit, “I-I was not aware that this happened more than once, Officer. I apologize if you were frightened by it in any way.”

“I wasn’t frightened, sir,” you say. “I was worried. You called for your sister before you called for me. And your brother, too. I figured you were seeing hallucinations and immediately tried to calm you down.”

Ah. So you’d seen it all.

Yoongi can’t quite exactly remember what he’d seen in those hallucinations, but he remembers burning. He remembers seeing his sister in front of him, taking her own life, lighting her entire body on fire. He didn’t realize until it was too late that he, too, was burning along with her.

He remembers thinking that he’d somehow been transported to Ara and somehow, it was now winter. He remembers seeing a hazy figure that resembled his brother, freezing to death in a snow blizzard with nothing to wear but his uniform. He remembers being cold, and he remembers shivering, but he can’t recall much further than that.

And then he remembers you. He always heard your voice first. When it was so unbearably hot, your voice had offered him the cool reprieve that he was so desperately seeking. When it was unbelievably cold, your voice had given him the warmth that he needed to survive. And every time, he remembers someone who looked like you gently brushing his hair out of his face. All this time he thought it was the wind—that his mind was just playing tricks on him. But he only realizes now that it really was you.

“Thank you,” is all he can say. “I realized I never got a chance to say it. You’ve been taking care of me after my operation, even though no one has required you to do so—you must be busier now, too, since my absence. It’s also thanks to you that I am alive today. I’m indebted to you, Officer. You’ve practically saved my life.”

For Sooht’s sake is it hard to control yourself when he says things like this so nonchalantly. It takes everything in your power to swallow down the flutters in your stomach and keep a straight face. “All I did was oversee a process I knew very little of, sir. I mustn’t take all of the credit. Lieutenant Ki worked incredibly hard behind the scenes to ensure that no soldier panicked at the news of your injury, and the healers were the ones who operated on you. Although I did play a part in your recovery, I wouldn’t be the only person you’d be indebted to.”

The General smiles. “I’ve already given those people my thanks, Officer. But they were only doing their duty, were they not? You needn’t stay with me for over a week, barely leaving the tent—being the first and last person I see every day… It’s pleasant, Officer, I don’t deny it, but this was never required of you. And even now,” he says, gazing over at the tray you’d set on his desk, “you bring me my meals and fresh washcloths. I don’t recall this being in your job description, Officer.”

Is he teasing you? There’s a definite lilt to his voice that points signs toward yes, but you can’t help but give a serious answer. “But sir, I did say that I could never lose you. And besides, every time a person tells me that they would do everything in their power to keep me alive, I must do the same, sir. So you don’t have to thank me. You would’ve done the same thing if you were in my place,” you say, though your hands begin to sweat at your own boldness.

The General raises his eyebrows. “You’re right, Officer,” he says. “I would’ve done the same.” He pauses. “But you make it sound like multiple people have told you that they, in fact, would do everything in their power to keep you alive. Is that true, Officer?”

Your eyes widen. “No, sir! I don’t think I could ever handle that. Even with you… I…”

“You…?”

“It’s selfish for me to say, but I was scared, sir. I was terrified. I didn’t think you’d make it out alive. I already lost Doyun—I-I… I didn’t want to lose you too. But I also know how stupid my thoughts were when you were probably facing terrors much more justifiable than mine.”

“It’s not selfish of you to feel emotions, Officer,” the General says. “I was never afraid of my own death, either, so you needn’t worry,” the General says. He suddenly shifts his position on his cot, his hair falling forward to cascade over his eyes. “What I was afraid of was you.”

“Me, sir?” you ask, astonished. 

“You are kind-hearted, Officer, no matter how humble you are about it. I was afraid that another death would push you over the edge.”

You nod. That’s fair, considering how you’d reacted over Doyun’s passing. You’re just about to reply and tell him that he’s the kind-hearted one for worrying about your wellbeing while he was the one on his deathbed when the General unexpectedly continues on—all the while avoiding eye contact:

“I was afraid that you’d care about me more than you really should,” he says, his voice much huskier than before. “I was afraid that all you’d remember about me if I died was that last, horrible conversation we had.” He stares up at you, the movement clearing the hair away from his face and revealing his softened eyes. “All I could remember were the mistakes.”

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat. What does he mean? Questions are brewing in your head faster than you’re getting the answers, and suddenly, your head feels like it’s about to burst. He was afraid that you’d care about him more than you really should? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You didn’t even think the last conversation you had with him before his injury was that horrible—just puzzling. And the mistakes? You can’t recall a single one.

 “I’ve thought about what I’ve said, Officer,” the General continues, slowly, almost cautiously. “I’ve thought about the gravity of it. I’ve thought about the repercussions. I’ve thought about how you’ve taken it, too. It’s all I thought about since the moment I gained consciousness, Officer.”

“Sir…” You have no idea what is coming next. And suddenly, you’re feeling a new kind of fear.

“I should have never put you in that position,” he says. “I should not have told you the things I told you that day, Officer. It was inappropriate of me, as your General and superior, and I… I sincerely apologize for my misconduct.”

Does he mean…?

I can’t lose you. I can’t bear the thought.

I’ll do everything in my power to keep you alive.

It’d really kill me to lose you too.

His voice echoes in your head for the thousandth time.

Did he say those words out of desperation? Is he only apologizing now that he realizes they aren’t true? Or did he really mean them? Is he apologizing because he believes that you don’t feel the same?

What do you say? How do you respond to this?

He didn’t need to apologize. Not if he truly meant those words. Not if you would say them back in a heartbeat.

The words spill out of you before you can swallow them in cowardliness. “But I care about you too, sir,” you say.

He completely freezes.

“I care about you as you are my General, but you are also a person I trust and admire and support. Even if you were stripped from your position and your title, I would be by your side, sir. T-To be honest, I have also been ruminating over our last conversation. And I… I just can’t seem to discern the line. You tell me that you’ve grown to care about me and that it’d kill you to lose me, but in that same breath, you demand orders from me and dismiss me from your presence as a superior. I don’t know what to think, sir. And for Sooht’s sake! I can’t stop calling you ‘sir,’ and you have yet to cease to call me ‘Officer.’ I will always be your offi—I mean—captain, sir. And yet… yet I’m confused. Because when you tell someone that you would do everything in your power to keep them alive, there are certain connotations that come with it that you cannot deny! M-My point is, if I even have a point within all of this nonsense, it’s not misconduct if both parties feel the same way!”

You pant for breath, feeling almost dizzy due to an outburst that you hadn’t planned to have at all. It’s only when you feel your legs nearly give out from underneath you that you realize that you had been standing. Somewhere along your nervous speech, you’d stood up, and in your frenzy, you hadn’t even noticed.

It’s only for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity, this silence. And in those seconds, you observe him, his countenance. Does he look horrified? Had you drastically misinterpreted every single one of his words? Had you crossed the line? 

But no, he looks the same. He has an unreadable expression on his face—one that instills fear in you all over again. Does he think you’re delusional? Does he still believe it is misconduct and now you’re guilty of it too? In that case, you should apologize immediately. But before you can get a word out, he speaks:

“Love and war is dangerously precarious.”

Your heart sinks at his words. 

“Do you remember that, Officer? We’ve established that over a year ago, did we not?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you say, lowering your head. “Of course I remember, sir.”

“Have your opinions changed?”

“T-They haven’t, sir.”

“Mine have not, either,” he replies. He lets out a shaky breath that makes the fear within you grow stronger. “We haven’t been able to change each other’s opinions, my officer. But then again, we are stubborn people, aren’t we?” He smiles, though you can’t necessarily say he looks happy. “I speak to you as a Solarian—without my title, my position, my honor—but you were right to say that there are certain connotations that come with declaring responsibility for another’s life. I cannot deny this. In fact, everything I’ve told you remains true.”

Oh.

There’s an emptiness that rings inside of you for just a moment before the floodgate of thoughts opens up. 

So there are feelings. You hadn’t been projecting after all. But instead of feeling relief, even a bit of happiness, you feel despair. Because even if you were something more than an officer and her General, you could never be together. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. You can’t imagine having a broken heart during a war—especially not as a captain. You’ve seen what love can do to people. You’ve seen how it made Doyun. You’ve seen Taehoon volunteer to fight to be with Hana. You’ve seen couples torn apart, couples brought together. But there always comes a time when one of them dies—if not both. You can’t deal with any more sadness. You can’t have another death like Doyun’s.

“If there was no war,” you whisper, “do you think…?”

The General doesn’t meet your eyes. “I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.”

It hurts. Not in the kind of pain you felt when he was slowly dying on that same cot over a week ago, but in the kind of pain that just rips you apart from the insides—it’s so quick, so sudden that you feel numb afterward. 

It’s just not meant to be.

The two of you have come to such a precise conclusion, strangely enough, considering that everything about this conversation had been crafted by reading between the lines. Yet it’s a conclusion nevertheless, and it’s best not to dwell on things that you cannot change.

“But Officer, I don’t want you to think for a second that this will change how I feel for you,” the General says. “I will always regard you highly. I will always feel happy when you are in my presence. I will always worry when you worry. I will always become angry at the things that have hurt you. But I… I am a General, Officer. I am the General of the fucking Solarian Army, and if I misstep, if I lose my vision, my goal for even a millisecond, I will be putting thousands of lives in danger. I cannot risk that, my officer. I’m sure you understand.”

It kills him to have to admit this.

And a small, deep part of him is angry about it, too. He never wanted this responsibility. It was forced onto him. It was his birthright, but never once had he ever sought power and fame. He wants to love, too. He wants to feel things other than anger and hatred toward the Darlaeans. He wants to be happy. He wants to know what it would be like to be with you. But as the last of the Min Clan, he must fulfill his duties, and it’s too late to back out now.

“I do, sir,” you say. He can’t read your face today. It’s so guarded, though he sees an occasional flash of vibrant emotions in your eyes. “I understand.”

“You may leave when you wish, Officer.” 

You linger, which he notices. It makes him wonder if everything you and he had just concluded had been a giant mistake. So what if love and war is precarious? Who’s to say it will fail every time? Was it foolish to not give it a chance? But no… To have the General of all people involved in romance and feelings and emotional affairs. He shudders. He can just hear the rumors that would spread like wildfire. 

Instead of saving lives and leading battles, he’s stuck in the arms of his own officer!—the same officer he appointed in a suspiciously expedited process! He won’t let her fight to protect her but forgets to protect the thousands of soldiers under his rule. How pathetic! He could be thinking of Solaria, his own nation, but he’s too busy thinking of his officer to even properly tend to his duties! What a disgrace they both are, canoodling around and wasting precious time when they could be doing their jobs!

Yoongi can’t let that happen. He doesn’t really care if they drag his name through the dirt and blood and grime. But he knows that these rumors also won’t leave you alone. He can’t have that. This kind of gossip is the same one that could quite possibly lead to insubordination. Your own soldiers might cease to listen to you, respect you. He could never allow that to happen.

But…

To think that you’ve felt the same all this time. To think that you could’ve lost sleep over this. To think that in another time and place, this could’ve happened.

He doesn’t know what to think.

He just wants to lie down for a very, very long time. And he knows he can do it, too. Because for the first time in his damn life, he has all the time in the world.

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: oops! is this anything like you expected? with just two chapters left in this act, there's going to be some more ~drama~ anyways, have a fantastic new years; i'll see you with another chapter in 2023! (p.s. i just wanna give yoongi and oc a hug 😭😭)

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

[nnnnoornalguy]

an extended list of idols

nct dream: #mark #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #chenle #jisung

nct 127: #taeyong #taeil #johnny #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #haechan

wayv: #ten #yangyang

txt, aespa, p1harmony, & twice all tagged accordingly, but not with enough frequency for listing here

.. . ʕ　·㉨·ʔ . ..

an extended list of pairings

(note: i just like seeing their interactions and dynamics, not shipping ^^)

nct dream: #renhyuck #nohyuck #markhyuck #haesung #chenji #jaeno

nct 127: #markhyuck #dochan #bear fam

.. . ʕ　·㉨·ʔ . ..

recurring personal tags

#oh im gonna maul.. #hholy moly

#sso nnornal

#cute murder.. fallen to the floor #bear is bearing... #cutie alert

#i cant ddo this.

#he ate this up i couldnt avoid reblogging #she ate this up i couldnt avoid reblogging

#aesthetic #grid

#silly

#norn post #t.n

#haimg #haegif #haeclip #n.n

#sorting #management #hidden #profile

[444namesplus]

Abaeti Abarwil Abyrma Acanvoety Acoeciepur Acolul Acunal Acywalcol Adibo Adovun Adulgo Aeildy Aeililear Afaemu Afaesalpu Afasyro Afuzimy Afyrtonil Agunsi Aguwu Agyfaesar Agyrdolwon Ahonraxo Ajaqal Ajynfaemar Akizo Akyposol Akyrxoxyn Amaqa Amonil Amurpal Amyky Aninlo Anonye Anyral Apaljiqy Aponxol Apudi Apyein Apyji Aqonpil Aqornue Aranymar Arony Asiea Asitilfi Atalgun Avaeholrul Avullo Awacagar Axanso Axurzyrsu Axuton Axynsynzil Azapu Azocinsu Azoewili

Baeparsi Baeul Baexil Barievul Barni Baxi Bieyehoe Binurhul Binwyemo Bolzy Bontiego Bulbyn Bulmol Buntulhue Buxyly Byepo Byma Bywa Calgilji Capovil Casan Cierajor Coqogyr Coreuqal Currul Cygu Cykieko Cylmu Cyrhyrcur Diepa Dilhaga Doeie Doltuda Dueharrun Duezi Dulcaso Dyrpor Dyrrye Dyzoefi Earqaqir Eigo Eobikae Eofuma Eogan Eolni Eoncuvi Euhici Eusy Eyedyn Eylsy Eyneo Faeda Faeu Fiky Firruneye Fonjifo Foryhye Fudae Gagi Giepuby Goco Goefihu Golnu Gonqoe Goreunhir Goxirho Gyeja Gynmujyn Hafu Hareue Hatoe Himar Hovoejul Howal Hyevonka Hyjoeal Hynlyr Hyrcu Idirmyn Idyrago Ieaqipy Ieuleygyr Ifanba Ifilu Ifunlyzae Igineun Igovunha Ihovulqy Ijagilgan Ijakiwyn Ijiso Ikaetaeir Ikinfae Ikonju Ilaponpy Ilorpuljy Ilyeforlar Imieinly Inoxyrlu Inuldi Iqurzy Iralkygyr Iranjoe Iroelocu Iryxosi Isylvulnir Itupan Ivirdueil Iwalei Iwoefurni Iwurny Ixiedyhul Ixypae Izycoepy Jaenoeli Jana Jarcurxir Jildozin Jilmye Jirlulwi Jyezu Jyrocy Kacy Kajul Kargucue Kawan Kaxor Kietuja Kody Kuejye Kunpy Kurpyewo Kynkur Lama Lanindi Lanpynji Linupu Lipannur Liwixy Lodugi Loeyecie Lorpyko Luezan Lukorgo Lulro Lursolie Lywy Moecon Moetur Morqye Mowo Moxulli Myetyr Mykadue Mynnol Naevynsy Najinmi Nigahi Nileonzi Nimyl Nobunru Nonmun Nuco Nunxae Nycofo Nyefyl Nyfol Ociemi Ocylpyl Ocymu Ocyngal Oducy Ofiral Ofoeqoemar Ogacul Ogotu Ogywa Ohyeror Ojixa Ojozo Ojuwylpo Okurboeru Omydu Onilzonjir Onyntaei Opuljon Oqakun Oqoeby Oqoekarwu Oqynsy Oqywul Osupinpon Ovorca Ovudapue Ovunma Ovynhun Owaefyegy Owoncy Owunpir Owyhoci Oxoni Oxory Oxyllomu Oxyxarsyr Ozalrae Ozanbi Oziedorri Ozyboewul Palhye Pasa Poganar Polynmur Ponmyrvu Porruzan Puxoma Pyerye Pyrihu Pyrnirra Pyrpa Pysa Qaelupar Qanei Qanol Qawy Qidu Qiwan Qolon Qorqalki Qugirwa Qumol Qyeinty Rarmy Rasoesye Rawijy Rielol Ripo Ronku Ronu Rony Ruba Rueza Rukol Rulnyrbyn Ryrruku Ryrson Sami Sandanty Sifobur Sinjysa Sirqonwae Sulilsar Suvidu Syeki Tabon Talpy Taneie Tonlon Tundal Ucinugul Ueareae Ugaqur Ugaqy Uginwony Ugynbajil Uhacaldo Ujonpanar Ujufirgie Ukarlynsun Ukitye Ukobon Ukudyn Ukuegyr Ulasako Ulifudy Ulucurmal Uluqo Umalvomue Umofyru Umojargae Umynpy Unadyn Uniesoho Unirurqi Unopyedo Unulcie Unyetan Upanvye Uqiepulol Urymycal Usaesovy Usatul Usawa Usokudyn Usunea Utamuhin Utaviji Utikue Utinkarsye Utumopor Utuvur Uvoluxa Uwyevol Uxaron Uxynaewy Uzoza Vapo Vorlul Vujo Vunlava Wanku Warsoe Wava Wicoreu Wollol Woru Worva Wuefon Wutu Wyltan Wyrkulgol Wyzoerur Xaelo Xaevy Xalylvur Xamyra Xaposy Xartuvyl Xaso Xorowie Xuwy Xyelir Xyhiegyr Ybuni Ycacolba Ycyla Yeaeeu Yeixarlar Yeujyr Yeyrivor Yfahyr Yforue Ygifu Ygoejyedi Ygovo Yjardulru Yjunqan Yjyevalhoe Yjyewonu Ykazi Ykurwynnur Ykynkulea Ykynxirol Ykypal Ylilzaexi Ylonfo Ylunwa Ylydinhun Ymazal Ymorgonsil Ynusol Ypagunmy Ypartir Ypulxufoe Ypyldir Yqawygu Yqinsal Yqirpa Yqoeeuedur Yqyhudo Ysurmy Ysyrman Ytatu Ytorpa Ytugincu Ytynvo Ytypy Yxyrwa Yzugonga Zilsil Ziwi Zocika Zogucye Zolboepur Zugyn Zyna Zynbue Zyzonkur

[binchive]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤbinnie archive ୨ৎ . SUGESTÕES SEMPRE ABERTAS

links úteis : WATTPAD . SPIRIT . PIN . BEHANCEㅤㅤㅤ onde me encontrar : mande uma dm aqui ou no pinterest !

⌕ [ela/dela • 04line] olá, pode me chamar de mel e nesse perfil você encontrará um pouco do meu trabalho, podendo conter capas, banners, talvez icons, e muitos gifs que vou testando fazer! caso se inspire em algum gráfico meu, peço que me credite ♥︎ ficarei muito feliz com uma marcação :D

⌕ para mais infos, deixo aqui que sou uma escritora esgotada que não tem muito ânimo para postar (mesmo que eu tente), uma designer meia boca que se cobra muito, estudante de letras que não tem tempo para ler e staybebe & jaeno lover com um coração multifandom. sejam bem vindos ao meu novo cantinho ♡

[♥︎] pedidos wattpad (fechado) [♥︎] adote uma capa

direitos reservados à @binchive . não reposte, copie ou reivindique qualquer uma das minhas edições como sua . ୨୧ icon por @rsier

[zcspace]

Durante semanas Chenle esperó por su llamaba, tal y como Jisung se lo había recomendado. Ansiando cada día, armado de ciega ilusión, por la primera señal de interés por parte de Jaeno que le hiciera tener una excusa para dejar el orgullo de lado (que esas alturas era lo único que le quedaba para proteger), y finalmente devolverle a su vida un poco de ese brillo que se había perdido desde que molestos, hubieron cruzado palabras por última vez. 　　 El suyo había sido un encuentro breve, un altercado infantil (como RenJun lo definió cuando se atrevió a pedir su opinión) que Chenle decidió ignorar, como si nunca hubiera pasado, como no le afectase en lo más mínimo. Hasta que con el paso de los días el acercamiento de Jaeno a Jaemin (causante de su más reciente discusión), y la falta del chico a su lado, la escasez de su risa, el recuerdo de sus travesuras, y la pérdida del status quo (de lo que había sido siempre, y lo que fue desde la transferencia de Chenle a esa institución) fueron motivos suficientes para lentamente disipar la frustración, y engendrar esa (fingida) indiferencia, por la cual, su pequeño arrebato de ira no había hecho más que extenderse, silencioso y desesperanzador, a lo largo del mes. Como ese mal que parece eterno pues no sabe cuándo acabarse, ni cuando dejar de doler. 　　 Si Chenle se hubiera permitido ser sincero con Jaeno antes, al menos, casi tan sincero como lo había sido con Jisung al contarle respecto la situación, tal vez Chenle se hubiera ahorrado muchos problemas. Cosas como la pesadez que se instaló en su pecho cada que escuchó a Jaeno pasear con los pasillos con Jaemin a su lado no habrían existido. Cosas como las lágrimas que había tenido que contener hasta el último instante, mientras respondía con monosílabos a los reclamos del chico, quien entre gritos le echaba en cara no haber intentado siquiera acercarse para dialogar; no hubieran sido necesarias, y mucho menos, alargado tanto la espera por las deseadas disculpas. 　 Sin embargo, no había sido así; y aunque había dolido, Chenle lo aceptaba. Deseando que no volviera a repetirse, y pidiendo por no tener que revivir lo sucedido ni siquiera en prosa. Optando por tener sólo para sí los golpes entregados, y las frases compartidas que, si bien habían lastimado en su momento, también habían sanado con el paso de los días. Atesorando así lo acontecido, tal y como lo que había sido, como lo que fue: sólo una manera más para conocerse el uno al otro, y prolongar aquella amistad que con suerte sería interminable. 　　 Interminable, incluso si Jaemin debía ser soportado en el proceso. 　　 　　　

[hwallstars]

ꗃ. Hot Sauce

DISPONÍVEL

capa para doação - mande mp caso tenha interesse

alterações: apenas user do autor

📅 20.08.2021

— caso se inspire, por favor dê os créditos.

[pinkhyucks]

jung jaehyun being unnecessarily rude, in gifs

[lovejongin]

i drew jaemin and jeno for my sister's birthday @bb-bambam hbd 🥳

[crywinterxz]

Rude

Capa para pedido pessoal — caso se inspire, credite!

[jaenophoria]

jaehyun with his babies, lele and jeno! ALSO jaehyun and jeno happened before 2020, my life is complete now! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

[hyuckfest]

not jeno and jaemin wearing skinny jeans and polo shirts at a shooting range

[jentoshi]

nomin matching icons !

♥️ or reblog if u save/use.

♥️ o reblog si los guardas/usas.

don't repost!!

[clowninyourfeed]

[Pretty sure I got my ass beat for this exact scenario once]

[ohhmydyosfics]

(Xiaonomin) who, me?

It's Jeno and Jaemin. Jaemin and Jeno. Dejun knows of them — he doesn't know anyone on campus who doesn’t.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28184154

[laislandblog]

⌕ icons ✕ soft ๑₊ ༝ seulrene & jaeje

⊹autoral ؛ 𖧧  홨:: like or reblog

@wootaxortofu ♡소 fancy.mp3

[zcspace]

Na Jaemin es sinónimo de desastre. Conocido por los rumores que hablan de él como la encarnación del peligro, la rebeldía y las malas intenciones, Chenle le ha considerado, desde el altercado que tuvieron durante la primera semana de este en el instituto, como un imán de problemas andante. 　　　　　　　　 A procurado a lo largo de su quizá insignificante periodo en esa escuela, el mantenerse tan alejado de él como le ha sido posible; pues su abuelo le ha advertido que no ha llegado a ese país para crear problemas, sino para cumplir con los objetivos ya previamente pactados. No obstante, Na Jaemin siempre ha encontrado la manera de invadir (aunque sea un poco) su espacio personal. Molestándole con su presencia en los pasillos, alternando las bromas a sus espaldas, llevándose a Jaeno de su lado a base de seducciones y engaños, sólo para después permanecer junto a él como una sanguijuela; persuadiéndole sobre sus acciones, dejando al propio Chenle como un irracional a sus ojos (por su odio que está en aumento, por su renuencia a dirigirle la palabra) con la única intención de hacerle enfurecer. 　　　　　　　　 Ha olvidado cuantas veces Jaeno a intentando acercarles el uno al otro, cuantas veces a insistido con argumentos a favor de Jaemin que las acciones de Chenle son erróneas, que debería darle una oportunidad a esa alma descarriada, a ese chico que se esconde en las obras malas para lidiar con la presión que se cierne sobre sus hombros, con la perfección que exige ser el sobrino del director. Pero mientras más habla Jaeno sobre el tema, más se niega Chenle a escuchar. 　　　　　　　　 — ¡Fuiste tú quien me dijo que debía alejarme de él! —le grita cuando los ánimos se calientan, como siempre que la bomba que lleva en su interior comienza a contar hacia atrás. 　　　　　　　　 — ¡Fue porque no lo conocía como ahora! —refuta Jaeno, quizá tan cansado como él mismo de lidiar con un caso perdido. 　　　　　　　　 — ¿Y crees conocerlo realmente, Jaeno? Maldita sea, ¡te está lavando el cerebro y no lo quieres ver! —espeta Chenle mientras niega con furia, la frustración que inunda sus facciones no augura nada bueno. 　　　　　　　　 — No es así, ¡él no es así! —repite el chico cual mantra sagrado, tan terco como todos los secuases que Na Jaemin se ha encargado de forjar con cínica paciencia— ¿No podrías dejar por una maldita vez esa mierda? ¡No eres superior a él solo por ser extranjero! 　　　　　　　　 — ¿Te estás escuchando? —brama Chenle con molestia, y la furia es tanta que lentamente los nervios se rasgan— ¡Actúas como su maldita perra! Le sigues a todos lados como si fuese una especie de prodigio —le reclama y la preocupación que se mezcla con la soltura de su lengua es ponzoñosa, como el veneno—, ¡Más allá de su estúpido ego no hay nada salvable! Por una vez en tu corta vida, ¡joder, deja de hacer caridad, Jaeno! 　　　　　　　　 — Es Jeno... —le escucha decir, cortando con el intercambio de gritos de manera tajante—. Es Jeno, y me decepcionas, Chenle. De entre todos pensé que tú lo entenderías, porque tú y Jisung... 　　　　　　　　 — No te atrevas a meter a Jisung en esto —Chenle le advierte, y Jaeno sólo se alza de hombros, mirándole con compasión como si Chenle fuera otro pobre diablo más, al cual tenerle lastima. 　　　　　　　　 — Está bien... Sólo espero que un día seas capaz de ver que los demás también valen la pena.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　***　　　　 　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 Na Jaemin, es sinónimo de desastre, y Chenle lo sabe mejor que nadie. Cosas sobre él son lo único que ha salido de la boca de Jaeno desde su más reciente reconciliación, desde su más agresivo intercambio de palabras. Y aunque Chenle ha hecho todo lo posible para dejarlo pasar, para soportar los gritos, para morderse la lengua cuando las burlas silenciosas (que casualmente siempre ocurren cuando Jaeno no está) se han hecho presentes, su paciencia no es inagotable. 　　　　　　　　 En algún momento las palabras de su abuelo no serán capaces de apaciguar su temperamento, Chenle se vuelve consciente de ello cuando Jaemin le saluda esa mañana de sábado, ahora sin tapujos, sin formalidades ni cariño fingido, pues Jaeno no está incluido en ese proyecto que desafortunadamente es sólo de dos. 　　　　　　　　 — ¿Te comió la lengua el ratón, desviado? ¿O es que acaso te han follado tan duro que te has quedado afónico luego de tanto gemir como la puta que eres? —le escucha decir, tan malicioso como lo ha sido siempre en su presencia, tan ocurrente que Chenle no sé molesta en aparentar simpatía; ya no más. 　　　　　　　　 — Ya sé que te gusta contarme tus fantasías, y pensar en mi pene dentro de ti—le responde, siguiéndole el juego mientras le sonríe con suficiencia al hablar, provocándole con la mirada—, poniéndote en cuatro como sé que te gusta que lo hagan. Pero ya te lo he dicho antes, por más que me lo ruegues, no eres mi tipo. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 — Te sientes muy valiente, ¿eh? —Jaemin agrega, chasqueando la lengua con fingido asombro— ¿Qué te hizo cambiar? ¿Acaso la gatita está celosa de que Jaeno tenga otro amigo y por eso ahora saca las garras? ¿O debería decirle Jeno? Después de todo, el cambio fue de mi autoria.

— Ambos sabemos que no eres su amigo, y que tanto eso como esto —Chenle dice y les señala a los dos, incapaz de contener la mueca de asco al hablar—, no es algo real. Así que dime de una buena vez, qué mierda quieres con ambos, y qué necesito hacer para que nos dejes en paz. 　　　　　　　　 — Jeno está enamorado, ¿sabes? —Jaemin exclama con mofa, mirándole a los ojos con una sonrisa en el rostro— Puedo decirlo por la manera en la que me sigue a todos lados, no será sencillo hacer que se aleje de mí... 　　　　　　　　 — Puedo darte lo que quieras, tú lo sabes más que nadie —Chenle le aclara, un poco cansado de ese juego que desde hace tiempo Jaemin ha establecido entre ambos— Lo que quieras... A quien quieras. 　　　　　　　　 — Huang RenJun —musita este, y el brillo en sus ojos denota su interés— Finge que no existo, pero sé bien que son muy amigos. Si me consigues una cita con Huang RenJun, las cosas entre ustedes podrían ser como antes. 　　　　　　　　 — Es posible, pero, ¿quién me asegura que mantendrás tu palabra? —indaga Chenle, no muy dispuesto a dejar cabos sueltos. 　　　　　　　　 — Sabes que lo haré —Jaemin le responde, estirando una mano que ansía ser estrechada—, hombres como nosotros siempre cumplimos nuestras promesas.