Like Crazy || PJM

New Theon’s map, created by me using Inkarnate

┊˚➶ ｡˚ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽˚｡➶˚┊

Y/n

New Theon smelled like blood.

Y/n’s boots slipped and slid on the muddy terrain—or what she hoped was mud—leading to the Emperor’s stone castle. Lightning fired out, rain clogging all her senses except her nose. She didn’t bother glancing down to see if what she stepped in was a deep brown or a shimmering crimson.

Jungkook held her arm and shoved her forward, whispering about how they needed to keep up with the endless crowd. It was a monthly address; a meeting of the common folk with the Emperor to discuss New Theon’s changes.

It was a fucking sham.

The Emperor had never discussed anything important. No changes impacted the outskirts, just the City. And yet, no City folk had to come. That many would never fit inside the castle’s courtyard.

And the courtyard was massive.

Y/n gagged from all the rain pouring down her throat. Her nose dripped with snot, and her stomach ached from the other monthly event she had to endure. Her legs screamed and begged for her to stop moving, but she had no choice. The crowd wouldn’t let her rest.

Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of bodies—some naked and covered in grime, others holding shredded threads together to conceal their private parts—flattened her. All her ribs wanted out of her body. She wondered if Jungkook felt it too.

Jungkook’s hand remained on her back, guiding her forward. The main gate was lowered and accepting everyone inside. Cries rang out over the thunder. Y/n didn’t flinch or whine like the others. She had learned that was pointless. Most of living was. She knew nothing about herself or why she kept going. Hell, she didn’t even know what her favorite color was.

The walls were monstrous—giant slabs of gray stone with not an ounce of moss. Pointy towers jutted out over the trees making up the dense forest surrounding the vicinity. The front wooden gate was held down by two metal chains on either side of the door-like structure. Inside was the courtyard. Wide, vast, and full of grass trimmed by scissors every day.

“Y/n,” Jungkook said, his voice a breathy, hoarse gasp. “He’s here.”

Jungkook’s arms were larger than most New Theon residents. They were almost the size of some people’s entire bodies. And yet, they trembled. His dark brown eyes became more black than brown as his pupils dilated, and his thin, chapped lips parted to show jagged teeth. He was missing one of his back teeth. Then again, so was half the country.

Y/n didn’t need to ask who to understand, but she did whip her gaze around to find him. It didn’t take long. The man stood out. Not by height or width, as Jungkook was taller by about an inch and had the more prominent muscles, but by attitude and outfit.

Commander Park.

Armor hid most of his frame. It was form-fitting armor, without all the clank and excess the other guards had. No helmet. Bastard probably wanted to show off his scarless face.

How did such a fighter lack scars?

His hair was as dark as Jungkook’s still-widening pupils and parted to show a tan forehead with one mole near the start of his hairline. A hairline that hadn’t receded one bit. His lips were smooth, plump, and pinker than a mimos’ belly.

“The Emperor awaits you,” Commander Park said, his voice as low and alluring as ever.

His slim eyes fell on every individual who passed. They were somehow a darker brown than Jungkook’s.

Commander Park’s gloved hand landed on his waist, which had a golden belt holding two daggers. Strapped around his silver armor was a bow and quiver. No sword.

Y/n couldn’t focus on him, though; a civilian screamed. A man with hair down to his shoulders, a missing front tooth, and pants he grasped with one hand. Otherwise, he’d flash the crowd. Not that that was anything new to her.

“I can’t go back! I can’t go back!” The man kept screaming the words over and over, his bare feet launching forward to escape the castle’s walls.

As soon as he sprinted by, Commander Park grabbed him by his hair and shoved him back. The man squirmed and wailed, begging for mercy, but Commander Park unsheathed his dagger and slit the stranger’s throat.

Y/n jumped and almost knocked Jungkook over. Jungkook embraced her, and she felt his breathing pick up. Blood squirted out of the gaping wound. The man clawed at his mangled throat and tried to shriek. All that came out were chokes that sounded moist. More crimson liquid poured out, and within a minute, the civilian collapsed.

Commander Park stomped his boot on the corpse’s head, and then he spat on the corpse.

“Fucking Nösairs.” Commander Park rolled his eyes, wiped the blood off on the inside of his armor’s sleeve, and sheathed the dagger once more. His voice was louder next time he spoke. “Anyone else?”

No one budged.

“Good. Go. The Emperor is waiting.”

The rest of the crowd piled in. Y/n lost count of how many there were, and she couldn’t see much of the courtyard from how shoulder-to-shoulder the masses were. Jungkook’s curls bounced in front of his face with each labored breath. Y/n observed him, wondering if any words would be of much use, but she had little chance to act. The Emperor was there long before anyone got a chance to think.

Dead ahead was the man responsible for every issue in the country. The man responsible for the death outside, even if he hadn’t been the one who had drawn the blade.

Rain trickled down the side of the masked ruler’s face. All that was visible was his sharp hazel eyes and a few strands of graying hair peeking out from underneath the top of his scarf. A scarf he had always wrapped around his face and head. No one knew the true appearance of Emperor Donovan. To her knowledge, anyway.

“Welcome, citizens of New Theon,” the Emperor said, his voice deeper than Commander Park and Jungkook’s combined.

Speaking of, the devil with the daggers strolled the perimeter of the walls. Y/n was near the end, but not quite. That was when she saw it: a scar. Running down the left side of his neck. She also noticed his glove had an abnormality: the left ring finger was... hollow. Like a flap in the wind rather than a fleshy finger inside.

“We meet today to discuss the recent developments in New Theon,” the Emperor continued, his voice projecting louder than Y/n thought possible. Then again, he stood on the second story of the castle. On the upper wall, where the walkway was for archers to defend the castle. Plenty of archers had their arrows pointed at the endless crowd.

Y/n couldn’t count how many citizens were there. Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? She doubted thousands could fit in one courtyard, but it was a mandated event. Mandated for the outskirts, anyway. That meant a one-day travel time. Two-days round trip. That was for those lucky enough to afford leekas.

The Emperor droned on and on about farming and the statistics of their crops. Crops the outskirts had never seen. No—would never see. That was the more accurate way of phrasing it.

It took twenty minutes of drowning in rain for the Emperor to wrap it up. By that point, all Y/n smelled was blood. Blood of the fallen outside, maybe, although she hadn’t been close to the crime. She smelled it anyway. As if the man were behind her, forcing his mutilated throat against the back of her neck.

Goosebumps broke out on her skin. Her tunic was short-sleeved and showed the imperfections all over her. At least she had been fortunate enough to afford pants and a tunic. Not so much to afford anything to help with her period, though. No. No one was that lucky.

“The Moros have been pushed back.” The Emperor held both his gloved hands up, as if he wanted to give the masses an embrace no one would accept. His red cloak lacked a hood but had a fur collar. Underneath said cloak was threads of black covering the rest of his tall, wide build. “However, they refuse to stay away. They threaten our world every day, and I will not tolerate it. That is why I am reinvesting our budget. Another ten percent to the military. I trust Commander Park will take this gold to create the best version of us he can.”

Commander Park raised his hand in their signature signal. It was a simple fist—a symbol of unity. The crowd returned it. Y/n put her hand down a second earlier than the rest.

The Emperor lowered his hands and went quiet. His narrowed eyes jumped over the people. His people. Then, he spoke again.

“Does anyone disagree?”

That was a death sentence. Anyone who dared disagree would receive an arrow. From Commander Park, no doubt. But the Rebellion needed something. Some spark. A fire Hoseok hadn’t created in years. If she had even ten seconds to fire out the words, it would be worth it. A martyr.

Maybe her life would finally have meaning.

Her body stiffened, her hand curling into a fist. Not one of unity that time. She shifted, but Jungkook slapped his calloused hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“Y/n. Don’t,” he said, his voice lower than it had ever been before. His nails were chipped from where he had bitten them earlier that day. Y/n had watched him do so on the ride over.

Y/n stared at them a moment longer. A selfish moment, she’d admit. Then, she placed her hand over his, memorized the feel of his hardened skin over hers, and smiled.

“I’ve always cherished you, Jungkook.”

“Y/n-”

But she interrupted by throwing her fist into the air, shoving Jungkook away in the process. What she was about to say couldn’t reflect back on him; they couldn’t know he was there with her.

Jungkook clamored to lower it, though the deed had been done. Commander Park noticed. The Emperor noticed. She hoped all of New Theon would.

All at once, the crowd parted as best it could and whispered to one another. None of them offered sympathy, especially when Commander Park came closer. He didn’t stop until he was five feet away. Their eyes locked. Eyes that had emotion for the first time since Y/n had seen him. What emotion, though, she couldn’t decipher. Not that she wanted to.

“You disagree?” Commander Park asked. His voice hiccupped, and his mouth twitched upward. She spotted his hand tightening on his dagger.

“The Rebellion disagrees.”

More murmurs. More stares. Though, her life hadn’t ended yet. All she needed was a few more seconds.

“How much longer must we suffer?” she asked the citizens, whipping her gaze around every nook and cranny of the castle. She tried to lock eyes with any individual who had the guts to look at her. Anything to make them feel her. Maybe they would understand her better than she did. “Standup! Fight back! The Rebellion is waiting for you. We do not need to bow to a tyrant and his psychopath of a right-hand.”

“Psychopath?” Commander Park stepped closer, peeking at her lips before meeting her glare. “Be careful what you call me, sweetheart.”

Y/n glared at him. “You’re a damn lapdog, don’t you see? Your Emperor tortures and kills. He’s destroyed New Theon. If we don’t act now, he’ll destroy us. All of us. I’m begging you. Please, everyone, you must join us, before—”

Commander Park grabbed her by the throat and dragged her closer than she had ever been to anyone before. She coughed, wheezed, and gagged over the sudden lack of air, tears burning her eyes as she clawed at the gloved grip on her neck.

Was that how the slaughtered man had felt? Was she dying? Had the blade sunk into her throat, but she hadn’t realized it yet? She felt no liquid other than rain. She smelled nothing other than the rotten breath of the monster in front of her. But all she could feel was her lungs howling out for air.

“Get the fuck away from her!”

Jungkook charged forward, but an arrow pierced his shoulder and sent him flying back. Y/n whined and writhed in Commander Park’s hold, but it was of no use. Jungkook’s name rested on her tongue, but it was too dry. All she could do was plead for mercy. Mercy for Jungkook, not her. She knew what she had signed up for. Jungkook didn’t.

Commander Park shoved her body against his, his forehead resting on hers. “One more word, and I kill you and your friend. Do you understand?”

Y/n couldn’t speak, but that didn’t matter. Park tightened his grip until her vision edged with blackness, and her legs went limp.

“Do you understand!”

She somehow nodded, and he released her, her crumbling to the ground next to a bleeding, whimpering Jungkook. Jungkook rolled in the mud as he clutched his injured shoulder, and all Y/n could do was watch while her lungs feasted on the polluted air.

Commander Park departed, leaving Y/n and Jungkook there while the address concluded. The people dispersed. Some stomped on them. Others had the decency to give frowns as they rushed by. Y/n curled on her side and watched Jungkook grit his teeth and wobble his way to his knees.

“Y/n, we have to go.” Jungkook helped her up, but she couldn’t respond. All she could manage was a cough that sounded more like a horn. It rumbled in her chest and caused bubbles of saliva to form in her mouth. “Save your strength. We don’t have time.”

Y/n knew what he meant. Although she felt like she was drifting in and out of consciousness, she knew Commander Park was watching them. She could feel it. She could feel his eyes better than anyone’s.

What mattered, though, was that she was alive. Jungkook was alive. They would receive care from a town not far from the castle, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t make it all the way back home. But, again, what mattered was their lives. Commander Park—the vicious, merciless beast—had let Y/n and Jungkook live. Rebellion sympathizers. Park had killed for far less than that. And yet, there she was. He had spared her.

Why?