Bring The Fire; 3
Warnings: Obessive behaviour, mentions of blood, mutilation, dead bodies, rape, murder, and more.
Genres: Yandere, romance, soulmate!Au, Royal!Au, Isekai
Namjoon was furious. He was not the eldest son, nor the son to inherit the Empire next, but he was the son expected to control and look after his brothers– both younger and elder. This job was incredibly bothersome, especially considering none of his brothers seemed to listen to a word he said. A cow could take command better than his brothers. Yet he tried. He tried to keep them inline, to keep his brothers out of harm's way, or rather keep others out of others' way to minimise them causing harm.
His brothers, especially the youngest three, were impulsive. They acted with little thought, and no care for repercussions that would fall on their big brother. Namjoon often wondered if perhaps his brothers were disciplined more, or even just experienced the repercussions of their actions–instead of him– then maybe life would be a little easier. Namjoon didn’t believe he was perfect, by no means, but he was smart. He knew when to act, and how to avoid detection.
His brothers did not.
Honestly, he was beginning to think they wanted to be caught. He wouldn’t be surprised.
Their father wanted them married by the end of the year, which gave them six months. Namjoon wasn’t opposed to marriage. He just hadn’t met a woman he could deem adequate enough to want to dedicate his life to. He wanted someone intelligent, beautiful, and confident (but not too much), a woman he could bond with. Noble women could be educated, and usually they were, but it seemed to be surface knowledge. They didn’t read because they liked to, they didn’t like to look at art or even take walks through the gardens. They were boring. He didn’t want to be bored.
At dinner his father had announced a party will be held in three days, all his sons were expected to be there the entire night. There would be no excuses. They will meet the women, they will mingle and dance, and they will find a bride, sooner rather than later.
Seokjin hadn’t been there, much to everyone's surprise. They were quick to make an excuse, he was unwell and resting. It was clear their father didn’t believe a word out of their mouths, but said nothing. When dinner ended everyone left but Namjoon. Somehow, Seokjin’s absence was his fault. Namjoon, of course, knew nothing of his eldest brother's plans to not join them for their usual dinner. It was a once a week tradition, and although none of the princes enjoyed it, they all went to keep peace and appearances.
Namjoon was stressed. He was tired. He was angry.
His brothers walked all over him, after everything he did for them. They had no respect for him. Was it because he was the middle child? Not quite the eldest, but not the youngest. Just somewhere in the middle? He was sick of it. Seokjin was the eldest, and yet nothing was expected of him. The man couldn’t even get himself married– no, wouldn’t. He wouldn’t get married, not even to help his own brothers.
Why did he have to take the blame for every issue his brothers have caused? Tripped a maid down the stairs? Namjoon why didn’t you stop them? Got too rough with Jeongguk and cut his cheek in training? Well Namjoon should have been there to keep them in line. Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.
Seokjin sat on the hallway floor, back against his door as he fiddled with his fingers. His plan had gone to shit. He had no intention of being so late. He was going to show up, you in arm, dressed in the most beautiful gown and announce his engagement to his family. He was supposed to bask in his mothers joyful praises and loll in the thankful songs of his brothers, who would forever be in his debt, while they all whined in jealousy. His father would applaud him for finding such a beautiful bride, pat his back and scold his brothers for being so difficult.
“Follow in your brother's footsteps!” he would say.
Instead, he was sitting on a freezing floor, thinking of how to get back into his room without damaging his doors. He really liked his doors.. His plan was to get food, surely you were hungry, and lure you out with the smell. His plan could have been perfect if he had taken into account that he had missed dining with his family, angering his father and ultimately, Namjoon. But he hadn’t thought of this, too wrapped up in getting you to open up the doors. Instead he very proudly had jumped off the floor and rushed off toward the kitchen to have a feast prepared for you. He knew he shouldn’t be rewarding this behaviour, but he was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, he assumed you were scared and how could he blame you for this? Being in the presence of a prince, and one as attractive as himself, must have been incredibly overwhelming to a commoner such as yourself.
He will just prove to you that he is as kind as he is handsome.
When Namjoon had first begun his rampage through the palace he had every intention of tearing his eldest brother's head from its shoulders and kicking it out the nearest window. Yoongi had mentioned that Seokjin had gone for a walk that afternoon, promising to be back for dinner. So the eldest had actively missed out on meeting the women lined up for them, and then purposely skipped dinner with their father, clearly more than happy with getting Namjoon in trouble. The more he learned, the more heated he began to feel.
Oddly enough, when arriving in the hallway that his brother's room resided in he found the eldest prince with his head to the door, speaking so softly he couldn’t hear a word he uttered– which was odd considering how loud the man usually was. Namjoon watched as the elder man pushed off the door, a determined look on his face as he ran off down the halls in the opposite direction. A few beats passed before his door creaked open, a head poking out. Hair covered the face, but it was clearly a woman. Namjoon wasn’t sure which emotion was currently winning, curiosity or anger. Did his brother really skip out, and cause him trouble, for a woman?
The door quickly shut again, the girl disappearing back into the room. Namjoon had decided he would approach the woman, find out who she is and confirm his suspicions. Anyone in the court knows not to involve themselves with the princes at certain hours of the week, so who did she think she was to ignore the rules? To get him chastised for an action that he didn’t even do?
Namjoon had advanced toward the room, reaching for the door but his actions fell short when the door yanked open and a much smaller body collided with his own.
Fire.
His body was on fire.
Namjoon quickly shoved the body away, jerking himself backward as he examined his body looking for something, anything that would indicate harm, but he found nothing. He looked up, finding the woman on the floor, staring up to him with wide eyes. Messy damp hair hung over most of her face, pretty pink lips parted slightly in shock. Neither said a word, only staring for a minute before the girl scrambled to her knees and bowed, head to the floor. You didn’t speak, no apologies, just head to the floor.
Why did this irritate him?
He wanted you to look at him again.
“Who are you?” He asked, finally seeming to find his voice again.
Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to the kitchen. For a while the prince had actually been banned at some point of time and just never bothered to go back, not that he had ever really needed to, the maids could do it for him. Only Jeongguk enjoyed going down to the kitchens, snooping through the ingredients, picking at the food while being cooked and for a while, watching the maid he was so enraptured by. Admittedly, Seokjin had never understood his brother's obsession with the dirty girl, she was less than average, filthy and all bones. He remembers laughing and teasing his brother, loving how angry and defensive the younger one got.
But now he understood.
Upon his arrival Seokjin’s eyes instantly landed on the remaining two chefs. One stood by the doorway, carrying in freshly washed pots, and the other looked ready to shit his pants. At first, the prince didn’t understand the instant look of fear that hit the man's features, but the sight of the gruesome scar over his right eye made him light up.
“Chef Geum, it has been some time.”
The head chef, Ho Geum, was especially cautious of the royal family, especially the eldest two. The older sons, Seokjin and Yoongi were both excellent cooks, their nannies had taught them as children and young teens per their request. Their nanny had believed she was doing a good thing, encouraging a hobby, helping them with independence. Unfortunately this made the princes far more pedantic toward the meals they were served. One wrong flavour, a change to a recipe, and there would be hell. He had learnt this the hard way.
//flashback; three years//
The kitchen staffed six chefs, two for deserts and four for the other three meals a day. They were older men, sweaty and exhausted. They not only cooked for the royal family, but the other staff, and any guests that the palace seemed to constantly house. There was never a moment for breaks or rests. These four chefs often rotate shifts overnight, two on and two off, allowing a few hours breaks to rest before jumping back in for the breakfast routine.
Prince Seokjin had been 21 when the incident occurred. The current head chef, had been on his first week and unaware of all the rules in place. There were just so many, and it was hard to keep up with them all. His previous employers had no issue with his food experimentation, in fact they encouraged it. They were foodies after all, and would often brag to guests about their creative chef who prepared the greatest dishes in the whole of Korea. Eventually Emperor Munpyo caught wind of the rumours and demanded he had the chef for himself.
Who could turn down an offer like that?
He quickly learnt his creative dishes weren’t appreciated. The fifth night of his new job he found two of the princes in the kitchen entryway, the taller of the two with a friendly smile on his plump lips, while the shorter looked at him with an expression that mirrored someone staring at a bug on the wall.
The smile never left the taller prince's face, not when he cut off the chef's index fingers. Not when he pinned poor Geum to the large counter, giggling at the way he squirmed and begged to be let go. The shorter brother hadn’t smiled throughout most of the ordeal, keeping his lips slightly pursed as he watched his brother explain every single thing wrong with every dish that had been served that evening. Seokjin had demanded the chef keep his eyes on him, he should be respected. Unfortunately, because his focus was directed to only one of the princes, he failed to notice Yoongi standing by the furnace with a metal ladle resting over the heat. The metal had begun to melt before the prince was satisfied. He quickly pulled the ladle out, and stalked over to the cook who had finally caught on to the younger princes movement.
No amount of begging, or screaming, helped the man. In fact, the begging only seemed to fuel the excitement the prince felt, because for the first time in the hours they had been down in the kitchen, he grinned. It had made him sick. His smile had seemed so kind, almost childish. It was such a sweet smile to give to someone right before you disfigured them. Yoongi had stood over him, his face hanging above the chefs who could only sob a blubbered apology, begging him to stop before he had even started.
The pure excitement on Yoongi's face had haunted the chef’s dreams even to this day. The smile on his lips as the prince pressed the underside of the burning ladle into his eye. The laughter sounding in the emptied kitchen that moulded into his pained screams. Geum was probably lucky he hadn’t seen the look of pure glee on the scarred prince's face as he pushed the burning utensil harder, or the elated look he had as the skin melted on his face.
When Yoongi had finally pulled away, it took a bit of force to rip the ladle from the skin that had melted onto it. The chef was quickly let go, and the princes watched as he rolled over, dropping from the counter top to the floor with a grunt. His hands shakily cupping over the face wound, hands still bloody from the elder prince's punishment. It was probably for the best that the chef had been looking to the floor, sobbing, otherwise his good eye would have seen the way Yoongi had admired the skin burnt to the ladle.
He would have seen the prince pluck off a chunk of burnt flesh, and eat it.
//flashback end//
“Y-your Highness, it is an-an honour to see you again.” Geum stuttered out, bowing deeply.
The prince quickly waved the man off, walking further inside as he looked through the baskets of fresh vegetables. “I need you to cook a meal,” He told the man, turning to look back at him.
“Something romantic.” He added, nodding to himself. “I’ll need deserts as well, so wake up the rest of the staff.”
The two cooks looked between each other, raising a brow before looking back to the prince.
“My prince, was the dinner not up to satisfaction?” They inquired, the blinded chef looking to his companion in shock.
“I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there– do you have doubts about your work?” Seokjin grinned,
The two men quickly shook their heads, stuttering out incoherent sentences before the prince cut them off again, walking back toward the kitchen's exit.
“Have it in my room within the hour.”
You didn’t look up when he spoke, irking him further. His jaw clenched as you kept your head down, slightly shaking at the shoulders.
“Y/n.”
“Y/n, look at me when I speak to you.”
The words were familiar. Seokjin had said the exact same thing to you only hours earlier. Only this time you obeyed, his tone of voice didn’t feel as mischievous as Seokjin’s. And while yes, Seokjin had sounded playful, he still had an edge to his words, one that you were willing to ignore. This man held no mirth to his tone, there was a lingering anger to his words. You weren’t sure why, maybe he was angry at you for touching him? You weren’t aware of who he was, but by the fabric at his feet, and the attitude he spoke with, you were sure he was important. Was this the Emperor that Seokjin had wanted you to meet?
The air around him was suffocating. You wonder if he knew how stifling his presence was.
Ruffling of fabric filled your ears, making you peek up slightly. The man had squatted down to your level. You quickly tried to avert your gaze back to the floorboards but his hand shot out, grabbing your chin. He seemed to freeze when he touched you, fingers tensing on your skin making his nails dig into the flesh.
“I didn’t ask your name, I asked who are you?”
You frowned, is that not the same thing?
A soft grunt left your lips when he jerked your face upward to meet his gaze. He was handsome, even with the glare he was shooting your way. You weren’t sure how to answer his question, because who even were you here? You could imagine his reaction now if you told him: ‘I’m Y/n, and I’m not from here– wherever here is. I’m a homeless woman from what I can only presume is the future.’
Yeah, no. You would rather keep that information to yourself.
“I-I.. I don’t know.” You finally admitted, cheeks burning in embarrassment.
You barely knew where you were, you clearly weren’t home. You weren’t from here, from this time. That much you had gathered during your small meltdown in the room. You felt guilty when Seokjin tried to coax you out of the room, complaining about how late he was running. But the realisation of just how fucked of a situation you had gotten yourself into had dawned and you just wanted to hide. Which is exactly what you had done. Definitely not your finest hour, but how else is someone supposed to react?
You had been so relieved when the prince had told you he was leaving for a moment. It was a moment to escape. Once his footsteps had disappeared you had every intention of grabbing the clothes you had woken up in, and making a run for it. You had quickly changed back into the dirty, slightly damp silk nightgown, even putting the robe back on, deciding it was way too cold to leave it behind, and you were ready. You didn’t have any ideas of where to go exactly, but the feeling in your gut promised anywhere was better than here.
Clearly, your master escape plan didn’t go as you had hoped because the second you opened the door you almost broke your nose. The body clearly didn’t appreciate the unwanted contact, because within a split second you were on the floor. A new wave of fear had washed over you, terrified to do anything, so you had quickly moved into a bowing position.
The energy pulsing off this man was a true force. It shook you to the core. You feared speaking the wrong words, or even moving. You felt like a small animal, too scared to make a move, fearing the slightest movement of muscle would trigger an attack from the predator ahead.
Clearly your words hadn’t satisfied the man, how could it? You weren’t sure you would be convinced if some random woman claimed she didn’t know who she was either.
“Namjoon, what are you doing here?”
You froze at the icy tone. The man, who you could now only assume to be Namjoon, didn't budge. His gaze stayed on you, even if you were no longer looking at him. The floor seemed like the safest bet right now. You knew the other voice, it was the Prince who found you. He had spoken so much during the few hours you both had shared, that you could probably pick up on his voice from anywhere. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved for him returning, or annoyed. While you were glad that he was back, the only familiar thing you had so far in this place, you weren’t sure he could be of much help in this situation. You were convinced that the man before you was the Emperor. The way he spoke, the power he emitted.. There was nothing else he could be.
“I would appreciate it if you got your hands off my fiancé.” He spoke again, walking further into the room.
Seokjin wasn’t sure how he felt about the situation before him. While on one hand he was happy to see that the room was unlocked, allowing him to come back into you, he was bitter to find his brother's hands on you. He had barely been gone twenty minutes, he hadn’t expected any of his brothers to go to his room. Usually Namjoon would go off to his room to wallow in self pity before taking any anger out.
Either way, Namjoon had no right to be touching his woman.
“Fiancé?” He echoed, making no move away from you. If anything, his hand only tightened.
Huffing, Seokjin stomped forward. He grabbed the pale green collar of his brother's shirt and tugged him off you. The taller man hit the floor with a grunt.
“What the fuck Hyung!” He hissed, rubbing the back of his head.
Namjoon wasn’t sure why his chest had constricted at the news his brother had dropped. He wasn’t sure why his skin burned when he touched you, or why his lungs felt strangled when your eyes looked into his own. What he did know was that he didn’t like it. He didn’t like how he was feeling, and he didn’t like that his brother was claiming you.
“Who is she, Jin-Hyung?” Namjoon asked calmly, having pushed himself off the floor and brushed imaginary dust from his outfit.
Both brothers looked at you, still bowed to the floor.
“My future wife, was that not clear?” Jin asked dumbly.
Namjoon rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “What clan is she from?” He pushed. Seokjin was frustrating, as per usual, but Namjoon noticed he was slightly nervous at the question.
“She isn’t from here.” The elder shrugged, still avoiding answering directly. Moving around his little brother to crouch down beside you. His heart ached seeing you pressed to the floor, shaking in fear. But he couldn’t deny the butterflies in his stomach from seeing you in such a submissive state. Would you behave this way for him?
He rested a hand on your back, grinning when you didn’t flinch away. Even with the materials on your body, he could still feel the burning sensation as if he were pressing against your bare skin. Would the feeling intensify if you had been stripped bare?
“You never answered my questions.” Namjoon pressed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you never answered mine, and you best watch your tone Namjoon.” Seokjin scolded, not bothering to look at his brother. Instead, he gently took your chin between his fingers, just as Namjoon had been doing only minutes before. Seokjin’s grip was feather light, almost as if he wasn’t even touching you.
“My love, are you okay?” He murmured when your eyes met his. “Did he hurt you?”
You shook your head, making him smile in relief before he stood up, pulling you along with him. Seokjin’s arm curled around your waist, forcing you into his side as he looked back at the man standing across from you. His eyes were glued to the arm around your hips making you squirm uncomfortably. The movement only seemed to make the man's grip tighten on you.
“Y/n, meet my little brother Namjoon, Namjoonie, meet my soon to be wife, Y/n.”
Wife.
The word made your stomach twist. He kept saying that, you didn’t know him, and he you. How did he expect you to marry him? He hadn’t even consulted you on the idea. What made him think you even wanted him? You wanted to leave. You wanted to find your way home.
But what if there wasn’t a way home…
Jeongguk was a heavy believer in the spiritual realm, and a romantic at heart. He believed in the after world, reincarnation, he believed in true love and soulmates, and that there was always fate there to guide him to where he needed to be. He had believed Jin-i to be his soulmate, but soon after her death, despite the immense sadness he felt, he knew she hadn’t been the one. Fate had been kind to him, showing him a glimpse of what he could feel, promising that it had only been the beginning of how love would feel. It had allowed him some practice before true love found him.
Jin-i could have been a problem. If she had lived, what would have happened when he found his soulmate? He had always swore to be a loyal husband, so an affair would have been out of the question. Of course, there was always the option of just completely removing Jin-i from the situation, but he wasn’t too sure if that would have sat right with him.
Thankfully, he didn’t have these stresses anymore. He would be alert, ready to find the woman he was destined for, and all the while, better himself for her. Although, he wasn’t sure what more he could improve on.
Well, maybe he was.
Despite being 25, Jeongguk hadn’t been very experienced with women. He had dozens of them ready for him at any given moment, women that would do anything he desired and more. They had been used before, but not to the same extent his brothers had used them. Jeongguk had only used the women when his hand would no longer work, and even then he would only let them suck him off. He wanted he and his soulmate to experience sex together, for the first time, to be each others firsts. That plan very quickly went out the door.
He had been devastated to realise Jin-i wasn’t his soulmate. His promise to himself, to remain a virgin, had been ruined. After Jin-i’s husband's unfortunate death, Jeongguk, admittedly had little self control at the moment. He had slit her throat, and as she bled to death, he fucked her. A poor, and messy choice on his behalf. But the sight had been so exciting. The blood that covered her face and body, getting all over him as well was a feeling he wished to someday replicate. She had choked out incoherent words, clawing at any bare skin her nails could find with leaky eyes.
She had never looked prettier.
He had been devastated at first, guilt eating away at him. He was saving himself for his soulmate, and he was soiled. Jin-i had ruined him.
Would she be disappointed in him? He wouldn’t be able to blame her.
It had admittedly taken the prince a while to realise Jin-i wasn’t his fated one, and in his distraught state, he had.. Let himself go a little. The concubines had dropped in numbers, quitting or going missing after the youngest prince got his hands on them. He was too rough, too demanding, too unstable. Most women left bloody and bruised after their hours with him, weeping and begging the Emperor to release them of their duties.
Jeongguk had felt something in his chest. It ached, and pulled. It had felt that way since morning, and he had tried his best to ignore it. He was on his best behaviour. But the light tingle in his chest had turned into full fledged throbbing, it was like something was trying to tear its way out of his ribs. Nothing was easing the pain. So he had decided to let the pain lead the way. Whatever it was, the closer it got, the more the pain eased, the further he got the more it hurt.
He probably looked crazy, running around the halls with a hand to his chest, bursting in and out of different rooms. But he didn’t care, all he could focus on was the pang, pang, pang in his chest. The familiar hall that roomed Seokjin and Yoongi came into view, and the ache began to ease more. Jeongguk stumbled slightly, hand to the wall as he moved further down, passing Yoongi’s quiet room first, but the ache remained.
“You can’t be serious about this.” Namjoon’s voice echoed, catching the younger's attention.
“We’re in love, Joonie. Is this not what you all wanted?” Seokjin scoffed, his tone of voice lower than usual. He was pissed.
Jeongguk kept voice, his brother's voices getting cleared and the ache nearly disappearing. Fate was leading him somewhere, he was sure of it.
Seokjin’s door was wide open, Namjoon standing closer to the doorway with a ridged back. The eldest brother stood slightly to the side, one arm on his hip and the other seemed to be wrapping around something–or someone. The youngest prince stood just outside the door, head peeking around the corner of the door only just out of sight. The ache was gone, back to an itch. Whatever fate wanted him to find, it was in there.
“You just met her, how could you love her?” Namjoon groaned, head dropping into his palm. His larger body was blocking off whoever stood beside their elder brother, irking the youngest prince. He was curious.
“Oh what do you know, Namjoon?” Seokjin sneered, pulling away from the body beside him to step closer toward his brother. “Just because you’re so unloved, everyone else has to be too?”
Namjoon’s shoulders shuddered as he sighed, shaking his head. But he said nothing, letting Seokjin step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest. “She will be my wife, it is destiny.” The elder nearly whispered, the words only just ghosting Jeongguk’s ears.
Jeongguk was weighing his options, unsure if he should make his presence known. But it didn’t seem he had to. Seokjin seemed to have spotted him over Namjoon’s shoulder, raising a brow to the younger brother. In shame the youngest brother shuffled into the doorway, head hanging too embarrassed to make eye contact.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled pitifully.
Namjoon raised a brow, looking between the youngest and the eldest. “How long have you been listening?” He asked.
He shrugged. “Not that long.”
Seokjin eyed up the younger boy, purposely shielding you away from him. The young boy looked erratic. Sweat beading on his forehead, a red flush on his neck and cheeks, and his body shaking. Some would think he looked ill.
“Why are you here, Jeongguk?” Jin asked.
The younger boy frowned, itching at his neck. Why was here? He had only been following where fate had demanded, he hadn't thought he would find himself here. He himself was beyond confused.
“I’m not sure hyung,” He paused, thinning his lips in thought. “I just thought something of mine was here.”
It was a weak explanation, but it was true. The elder man grinned, stepping closer toward his brother gently patting his hair.
“What could you have possibly thought could belong to you here?” The tone was almost condescending. This bothered the younger prince, but he simply shrugged. He had nothing to answer with. He knew he had nothing in this wing of the palace, let alone his eldest brother’s room.
Namjoon seemed just as bothered by the eldest boy's tone, shoving the man slightly. He seemed unprepared for the force given, stumbling over and revealing you, wide eyed at the entire situation unfolding. The moment Jeongguk’s eyes fell to yours, the ache returned tenfold. He almost doubled over in pain, his hand shooting up to his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his dark shirt.
“Her.”
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A/N; two more brothers thrown into the mix!! Poor Jeongguk just wants love 🥹 and namjoon isnt sure what he wants. Pls let me know your thoughts bbies! thank you for reading :))))
