YESOL x JUNGKOOK

Fire and fear.....

We don’t start a fire to dispel darkness; we ignite it to burn away our fears.

But within Seokjin, that fire was faltering, suffocated by a fear that clawed at his heart. Fear that grew with each passing second, turning his strength into weakness. The fear of death, of his own actions summoning his doom, haunted him like a curse. He had provoked a demon—a human grim reaper cloaked in darkness. Jeon Jungkook.

Seokjin wasn’t the only one haunted by fear. Jungkook’s own nightmares began to gnaw at him. Visions of his bloodied self, helpless, as Yesol was taken from him, played on an endless loop in his mind. The predator feared becoming prey, and the thought of losing her fueled a rage that burned as fiercely as his desire for control.

But Seokjin wasn’t unknown to this danger. All this time, Yesol wasn't the only one getting these threats.

He held secrets—deep, corrosive secrets that hollowed him from the inside. Secrets that stripped him of peace and left him raw with frustration. Secrets that demanded strength he didn’t always have. These were the kind of secrets that bred fury because vulnerability wasn’t an option, not in a game like this.

"You’re playing my game now,” Jungkook’s voice echoed like a venomous promise. “And let me tell you, I’ve never lost."

"Be grateful if death takes you first, because if I do, it’ll be worse than torture. It’ll be hell."

"Don’t you dare kill yourself before I do. If you try, I’ll drag your soul back from the afterlife and make you beg for a death you’ll never get."

“Do you want to experience dying before you actually die? I promise, it’ll be fun.”

The threats came in red-stained letters, whispered from shadows, and fired as arrows that landed inches from his skin. Yesol wasn’t the only one trapped in this nightmare. Seokjin was tasting the same poison, delivered with calculated precision.

To Jungkook, it wasn’t just a game—it was pleasure. A twisted, cruel pleasure. The kind of enjoyment that came from breaking someone before ever lifting a sword. He was playing with Seokjin’s mind, toying with his fears, and savoring every moment of his enemy’s descent into paranoia.

Seokjin wasn’t enjoying the game; he was drowning in phobias.

Still, he tried to fight back. He stoked the dying embers of his fire, determined to act before it was too late. He hastily moved up the wedding plans, thinking it would solidify his claim. But he didn’t realize he was just a pawn in a game masterfully directed by Jeon Jungkook. Every move he made was choreographed by the devil himself. Seokjin wasn’t acting; he was reacting.

Yet, for all his plans, another truth gnawed at him. Losing Yesol to Jungkook wasn’t just a blow to his heart; it was a blow to his pride. She had become a symbol of his manhood, his authority, his supremacy. And now, someone else wanted her—wanted her more passionately, more intensely than he ever had.

Jealousy festered like an infection, spreading through him, blinding him to reason.

Maybe it was her eyes.
Maybe it was her beauty.
Or maybe it was her entire existence.

Yesol was no longer a person to him; she was a prize, a trophy to be flaunted. She was a possession he refused to lose, not because of love but because of ego. She was a challenge now, a toy to be won, and discarded once the game was over.

And yet, the thought of Jungkook’s gaze lingering on her drove him mad. If Jungkook desired her, then so would others. And that maddening jealousy turned Seokjin into something monstrous—obsessive, toxic, and dangerously blind.

Jealousy is a disease, and Seokjin was succumbing to it, piece by piece.

—

Maybe it was her eyes

—Maybe it was her beauty

—Or maybe it was her whole damn existence

She became a mere toy to him, which he wanted to use to satisfy his position as a king and as a warrior, more importantly as a man. He might as well throw her away after winning because the fact that Jungkook eyed her would always make him jealous, cause if Jungkook did then every other man would do too and this lifetime annoyance would eventually turn him toxic.

Jealousy spreads like a deadly disease and Seokjin was turning blind.

__________________________

YESOL'S POV

The cold floor beneath me felt like shards of ice cutting into my flesh as I clung to consciousness. My chest heaved with sharp, uneven breaths, the memories flooding back like waves in a storm—merciless, unrelenting, and drowning me in their weight. I twisted and turned, fighting the sensations as my eyes fluttered open to blinding light. The intensity of it stung, but not as much as the ache in my chest.

The war. The blood. The murders. My family captive.
Seokjin’s dea—

“No!”

The scream tore from my throat as I pushed myself up from the cold, unforgiving floor. My muscles protested, aching and trembling from the sudden motion, but I couldn’t stop. My fragile body wavered, yet my mind raced.

It was a dream.
It had to be a dream.
Please, let it be a dream.

"Please be a dream," I whispered, my voice trembling, my tears already streaking down my face. Desperation clawed at my throat as my eyes darted to the hem of my wedding dress.

Blood.

Dried, rust-colored stains painted the once-pristine white fabric.

Seokjin’s blood.

"No… no, please be a dream!" My voice cracked as I frantically checked myself. My hands were smeared with blood, trembling as I took them in. The tattoo on my wrist—my desperate attempts to claw at it had left the skin raw and bruised. Dust covered my gown, a shoe was missing, and my sleeves were in tatters.

And that was it.
The breaking point.

I fell to the floor, the weight of everything crashing down on me. I sobbed until my chest felt like it would collapse, until my voice was hoarse and my tears burned my skin.

It wasn’t a dream.
It wasn’t a nightmare.
It was real.

The blood, the destruction, the war. The open murders. Him. That pretty monster who killed my husband. The wedding hall turned into a graveyard. This was my reality.

I’d seen it all. Lived it. Felt it.

The happiest day of my life, the day I thought would mark the beginning of a beautiful forever, had crumbled into the worst kind of hell. And it had happened in mere seconds.

I was finally starting to believe in happiness, to claim the love I thought I deserved. And Jeon Jungkook—the devil himself—had ripped it all away as if it was nothing.

I had smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time in so long. And he had taken that too, shredding it into pieces until there was nothing left of me but ruins.

He broke me.

Not just once. Not just a crack.
He broke me so completely, I would never be able to piece myself back together again.

I was hit.
Broken.
Shattered.
And then crumbled down until I turned into powder.

Hate wasn’t enough. It couldn’t begin to encompass the seething rage, the burning loathing that consumed me.

I thought back to the last time I smiled. Truly smiled.

I was dancing and singing and day dreaming all day. This wedding to me was like spring; flowers were blooming, trees were dancing, the sun was sunny and the night was cool, the moon shined bright and the weather was just perfect. Nothing could've been as better as getting married to the love of my life. I was differently beaming, so bright that I felt the happiness in my skin, in my bones, in my soul, in my whole well being.

And now, it was gone.

The ruin. The devastation. I had ignored every bad omen for that one day of happiness. But I never, not once, saw this coming.

Jeon Jungkook.
The plague of my life.
The devil in human form.
You will rot in hell, you Satan.

____________________

<Few hours ago>

"Why isn't anyone coming to escort me? It's already time for the wedding!" Yesol bit her lower lip nervously, pacing the room as she waited for someone to take her to the grand ceremony.

Frustrated by the slow passage of time, she finally flopped onto her bed with a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes at the absence of activity. But her annoyance couldn’t overshadow the joy blooming in her chest. She was about to marry her king, the love of her life—Kim Seokjin. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of their forever together, of being his queen, his wife, and someday, the mother of his children.

The vision of their life ahead had her grinning like a fool until she snapped out of her dreamy haze.

Deep sigh. Annoyance creeping back in.

"Why is everything taking so long?!"

Unable to sit idle any longer, Yesol made a bold decision. Sneaking out of her room, she ventured into the quiet corridors. To her surprise, the hallways were eerily empty, but instead of worrying, she took it as an opportunity to move freely.

As she wandered further, faint voices reached her ears, growing clearer with every step. A strange unease settled in her chest. She paused, gulping to calm herself, and silently prayed that it was nothing serious, just her imagination playing tricks.

She quickened her pace, a nervous energy pushing her forward. But as she reached a small window overlooking the grounds, her heart stopped.

Through the glass, she caught a glimpse of something she could barely process—a raging fire.

She froze.

Her pulse spiked, and cold sweat dripped down her back. Shaking her head in disbelief, she stepped closer, hoping her eyes were deceiving her.

They weren’t.

Outside, chaos reigned.

A war.
A real, merciless war.

Her eyes widened as shivers coursed through her body. Her breaths hitched, sharp and shallow, panic threatening to overwhelm her.

"No, no, no..."

With her heart pounding like thunder, she broke into a run, her bare feet echoing in the now terrifyingly empty halls.

"Seok—"

Her voice caught in her throat as she reached the balcony, her steps faltering to a stop.

Below her, the grand hall was a vision of horror. Blood painted the floors and walls like a grotesque mural, splattered across every corner. The lifeless bodies of royal servants lay strewn across the room like discarded dolls.

And there, bound like prisoners, were the families—hers and Seokjin’s—tied tightly with ropes. Their faces were pale with fear, their cries drowned by the cruel laughter of their captors.

Yesol’s breath hitched again, her chest tightening painfully. Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted across the room, desperate, frantic, searching for one person.

Seokjin.

Nothing else mattered. Not the carnage, not the fear clawing at her heart, not even her own family.

Her only thought was him.

Where is he? Is he alive? Is he safe?

Her legs trembled beneath her, but she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop. She just needed to find him. He had to be okay.

Tears spilled from Yesol's eyes as she instinctively covered her mouth, muffling her sobs. Her gaze darted across the blood-streaked hall, desperately searching for Seokjin amidst the chaos.

Then, a voice cut through the mayhem like a blade, dripping with sarcasm:

"Your eyes are so beautiful. Do you want me to take them as a gift?"

Yesol froze, her teary eyes narrowing as she looked toward the source of the voice. It was directed at Prince Jimin, whose fiery glare remained locked on the speaker despite the threat.

The man who spoke was... breathtaking. He possessed an allure so profound it felt otherworldly—beautiful yet monstrous, angelic yet menacing.

Who is he?

Yesol’s heart raced as she observed him, a stranger whose demeanor screamed danger. He didn’t look like someone from her kingdom, yet his domineering presence made it clear he was an enemy, a predator among prey.

"Forgive him, Lord Jungkook!" Jimin’s mother suddenly stepped forward, bowing deeply in submission, her voice trembling with fear.

Yesol's breath hitched.

"Jungkook..." she whispered, her face draining of color.

"He’s naive, my lord! Have mercy, please!" the older woman begged, hastily pulling Jimin behind her and shielding his defiant eyes with her quivering hands.

"Jeon Jungkook," Yesol repeated, the name falling from her lips like a death sentence. Her legs wobbled, her body weakening under the weight of recognition. The name alone made her mind go blank.

No more thoughts. No more idle admiration for his beauty. Only one emotion consumed her now:

Fear.

"Is this... the end?" she whispered to herself, a chill running down her spine.

Before she could spiral further, survival instincts took over. She turned on her heels and ran, her heart pounding violently against her ribcage.

She didn’t stop.

Her only thought was to hide, to escape his sight, and to find Seokjin. He had to be alive. He just had to be.

______________________

"Find Yesol while I handle Kim Seokjin," Jungkook ordered with a sinister smirk, his voice low but commanding. As he ascended the grand staircase, his whistle echoed ominously through the desolate castle halls. His dark, doe eyes scanned every corner of the opulent space with unnerving calm, as though he were merely taking a leisurely stroll.

Reaching the chamber where Seokjin was held, Jungkook sighed mockingly, shaking his head.

"Kim Seokjin... so pathetic. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

He leisurely took a seat before the defeated man, his demeanor almost playful.

Seokjin, on his knees, was bound like a common prisoner. Blood trailed from a deep cut on his temple, his mouth smeared crimson, and his once-strong frame now marred with gashes from Jungkook's blade. His body quivered, drained of its strength, but his eyes still burned faintly with defiance.

Jungkook tilted his head, feigning disappointment.

"I mean, I knew I’d win, but thirty minutes? Really? That’s all you lasted?" He clicked his tongue, his mockery biting. "Don’t tell me you didn’t prepare. You’re making this way too easy."

Leaning forward, Jungkook's smirk widened as he locked eyes with Seokjin.

"You want a chance?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Seokjin, despite the pain, glanced up, hope flickering in his weary eyes.

Jungkook’s grin turned cruel.

"Let’s play hide and seek," he declared with menacing glee. "If I catch you, you die."

But the rules of this game were a facade. Jungkook had no intention of sparing him, no matter the outcome. Death was inevitable. The game was merely a cruel dance, a final humiliation. Jungkook wanted to toy with Seokjin’s fragile hope, to make him believe in the faintest glimmer of survival—only to snatch it away and watch him crumble in regret.

With deliberate slowness, Jungkook untied the ropes binding Seokjin. The fallen prince gasped for air, his chest heaving as he regained some semblance of movement. Without a word, he stumbled to his feet and bolted from the room.

Jungkook rose from his chair, the wild smirk on his face never faltering. His every step was measured, deliberate, exuding an aura of inevitability. He was the reaper, stalking his prey.

As Seokjin ran, his ragged breaths echoed down the corridor, mingling with the sound of his hurried footsteps. Fear clawed at his chest, his mind racing with desperation. But behind him, Jungkook followed with eerie silence, his dark laughter cutting through the air.

"Run, rabbit, run," Jungkook chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with amusement.

This was death incarnate.

The sight of a man fleeing in terror, clutching onto the vain hope of escape, only to be pursued by inevitable doom—it was haunting and grotesquely entertaining.

Jungkook relished every moment of the hunt, the thrill of watching Seokjin’s futile attempts to outrun his fate. To him, this wasn’t just a game. It was art.

Jin staggered as he ran, his breaths coming in desperate, panicked gasps. His bruised knees screamed in agony with every step, but the fear of Jungkook's ruthless hands drove him forward. He glanced back and saw the shadowy figure of his pursuer, calm and relentless, closing in with every second.

Tears blurred Jin's vision as he stumbled into a dark room. Slamming the door shut behind him, he pressed his back against it, chest heaving.

"I can’t... I can’t die like this..." he whispered, his voice cracking with despair.

In the suffocating silence, Jin allowed himself a fleeting hope. He thought, perhaps, he had outsmarted Jungkook. Perhaps this game of hide-and-seek was over, and he had won. But he forgot the cruel truth: the game wasn’t over until the seeker caught his prey.

And Jungkook was not the type to leave his prey unscathed.

The faint sound of footsteps made Jin's heart seize. The door creaked open, and the dim light of the corridor spilled into the room.

"For how long are you planning to hide, Jin?" Jungkook's voice was deep, smooth, and terrifyingly calm as he stepped inside. The shadows of the room seemed to cling to him, accentuating his menacing presence. He held a bow, casually moving his arrow across the darkened space, his smirk ever-present.

"You'll only die tired," he taunted, his tone almost mocking.

Jin's breaths quickened, giving away his hiding spot. The sound was faint but enough for Jungkook.

"Cat got your tail, mouse," Jungkook sneered before releasing the arrow.

The room was filled with Jin’s blood-curdling scream as the arrow found its mark, piercing his right eye. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his face, blood gushing through his fingers as he coughed violently.

"You’re not a man," Jin rasped, his voice trembling in agony. "You’re a monster."

Jungkook crouched down before him, gripping a fistful of Jin’s hair to lift his head. He studied Jin’s face, twisted in pain, with the cold detachment of a predator observing its defeated prey.

"A monster?" Jungkook mused, his smirk widening. "Perhaps. But you were foolish to think a man could challenge me."

Pulling Jin’s head closer, he whispered into his ear, his voice low and venomous.

"I’m done playing. Let’s end you now."

________________________

"There are two things I despise the most," Jungkook said, taking Jin's trembling hands in his. His voice was cold, yet eerily calm, as if he were simply discussing the weather.

"Boneless tongues," he continued, pulling out a weapon designed for pain. With a swift, practiced motion, he yanked Jin's nail clean off.

Jin's scream pierced the air, raw and agonized.

"-and glaring eyes," Jungkook added, pulling out another nail.

Jin cried louder, his body shaking uncontrollably. His knees dug into shattered glass scattered across the floor, shards piercing his skin and drawing blood. The arrow still embedded in his eye only added to the excruciating torment. Hands bound behind his back, he was utterly helpless.

"And you, Kim Seokjin, dared to use both against me."

Jungkook’s words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Just then, the heavy doors creaked open. A soldier stepped inside, bowing deeply.

"My Lord, we caught Yesol," he announced.

Jungkook turned to him sharply, his eyes narrowing in displeasure. Without warning, he kicked Seokjin to the floor, sending shards of glass deeper into his already bleeding skin.

He struck the soldier across the face. "Princess Yesol," Jungkook corrected through gritted teeth.

The soldier winced, lowering his head further. "My apologies, Lord. Princess Yesol is here."

A slow, chilling smile spread across Jungkook's face. "Bring her in."

Moments later, Yesol’s cries echoed through the hall as she struggled against the soldiers holding her.

"Jin! Jin! Jin!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

Seokjin lifted his head weakly, blood dripping from every inch of his broken body. He met her frantic gaze, but his expression was devoid of the love she desperately sought. His eyes burned with rage—not for her, but for the situation she had dragged him into.

This was all her fault, he thought bitterly. Every moment of agony, every drop of blood spilled—it was because of her. In that moment, he wished she had never existed.

Seokjin groaned, forcing himself back to his knees. Shards of glass dug deeper into his flesh, and the arrow in his eye sent waves of searing pain through his skull. Still, he managed to speak.

"Jeon Jungkook," he rasped, coughing up blood. "You want her, right?"

Yesol froze, her sobs quieting as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Then take her," Jin said, his voice cold and final.

The room fell silent. Yesol's world shattered in that instant.

"Leave me and take her with you!" Jin shouted, his desperation louder than her cries.

Yesol stopped struggling. The tears ceased. She stared at him, her heart breaking into pieces she could never hope to gather.

The man she loved, the man she thought would protect her at all costs, had thrown her away like she was nothing. His betrayal wasn’t just a knife to her heart; it was a blade twisted cruelly, ensuring the wound would never heal.

Jungkook’s sharp eyes flicked to Yesol, his expression filled with amusement.

"Do you still want him?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery.

He didn’t wait for an answer. With a swift motion, he plunged a dagger into Jin’s thigh.

Jin screamed, his blood pooling beneath him.

"No! Please!" Yesol cried, thrashing against the soldiers' grip. "Let him go! Leave us alone!"

Despite her shattered heart, she couldn’t abandon Jin, even though he had abandoned her.

"Let him go?" Jungkook repeated, arching a brow. A cruel smirk stretched across his lips. "Never!"

Without warning, he shoved his sword through Jin's chest.

Yesol screamed, her voice raw and filled with anguish. She shut her eyes tightly, unable to watch but unable to block out the sickening sounds.

Jin coughed, blood spilling from his mouth, his body convulsing as life drained from him.

Jungkook pulled the sword out and plunged it back in, again and again, his movements growing more violent with each strike.

Yesol trembled, her body shaking uncontrollably. She couldn’t see the scene, but the wet, sickening sound of flesh being torn and the metallic scent of blood overwhelmed her. Her stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat.

She wanted to scream, to fight, to run, but she was paralyzed by terror.

"Open your eyes," Jungkook commanded, his fingers pressing painfully into her cheeks as he forced her to look up. His grip tightened, suffocating her face as he made sure she couldn’t look away from the gruesome sight.

"You need to see this, darling," he murmured, his voice low and cold with a twisted satisfaction. "You need to see what happens when Jeon Jungkook catches his prey. When someone dares to touch something that belongs to me."

His eyes burned with a storm of anger, hatred, obsession, and something darker—something almost primal. He was no longer a man; he was a force, a predator, and Yesol was his prey.

She fought against his hold, pain and defiance in her eyes as she opened them. Their gazes locked, each of them glaring at the other with an intensity that crackled in the air. Jungkook’s face hovered so close to hers that she could feel the heat of his breath, feel his malice seeping into her very skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, her teeth gritting against the overwhelming urge to fight, to push him away.

"I AM NOT YOUR THING," she spat, her voice tight with fury. Every word was a declaration, a refusal to accept his twisted claim over her.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a wicked, almost admiring smile. "This," he murmured, voice softer now, though there was no softness in his eyes. "This is what I like about you. When you should be begging me for mercy, you're still fighting. That's what makes you special. That's what makes you mine."

He let go of her jaw, only to turn in the speed of light to depart Jin's head off his body.

Just one smooth stroke of his sword and his head was flying across the room.

Yesol’s vision blurred, the image of Jin’s brutal death searing into her mind. Her chest tightened, a crushing weight that stole the breath from her lungs.

Before she could even scream, her eyes fluttered shut, and the world around her dissolved into darkness. Her body slumped against Jungkook's knees, unconscious and vulnerable before he kneeled down and held her close in his grasp, as he looked down at her with a mixture of amusement and something more sinister.

"Seriously, darling? This was nothing compared to what you will witness" he whispered, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he steadied her limp form in his arms.

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