#“but he wasn't trying to -” WHY WAS HE LURKING BEHIND A PILLAR MY WELL-MEANING FRIEND? WHO DOES THAT UN-SHADILY?

[teh-nos]

subtext.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. semi-jealous dean. angel possessed sam. torture. murder. cas death. angel manipulation.

A/N : once again, thank you to all who follow along with this story, your patience and support means so much. hope you enjoy 💛

Dean's POV

"Look, for the billionth time, we're just looking for some information, okay? We're not cops. I mean, do we look like cops?" The individuals look at each other, nodding and whispering 'yeses.' "Well, we're not cops. We just need to find a friend who's in it deep."

I glanced away from the group before us, trying to calm my rising frustration.

"Look, he might have been here the night that guy was killed. Were any of you here then?" asks Sam.

A man lurks out from behind the graffiti-littered concrete pillar and speaks up. "Maybe."

"Oh, okay." I glance at Sam before giving a physical description of Cas. "Uh, he's—he's got dark hair, blue eyes, a little out of it."

"He maybe called himself Clarence?" He asks, hoping it'll ring a bell.

"Clarence, yeah." The stranger confirms with a smile.

"You two talk?"

"Not much."

"And...?" I trail off, leaving him space to fill in the blanks.

"I think he was on the run." He answers shortly.

"You see him with the Vic?" Sam inquiries before clarifying. "Uh, victim?"

"No."

"Okay." My hands impatiently gesture for him to continue.

"He went off to sleep in another part of the resort." The man says before walking away.

We turn and follow him. "Where?"

"He's not there now." He answers, on his way towards the rusty pickup truck. 

He tosses the plastic bag he held in his hand onto the bed as Sam asks, "Where'd he go?"

"I saw him running from under the bridge to the highway."

Long pause.

"You gonna pay us for all this teeth pulling? Where was he headed?" I ask, referring to the long and excruciating pain caused by his brief answers.

"He flagged a truck heading north. Detroit, probably."

Sam questions, "Why Detroit?"

"Truck was marked 'Motor City Meats.'"

Sam and I look at one another before thanking the 'man of few words.' As we head towards Baby, a cab pulls in before stopping near the underpass. The rear door opens, and Mari gets out. She reaches back into the cab and pulls out five boxes of pizza. I laugh, watching her struggle to carry the heavy boxes in her arms.

"I hope everyone likes pizza!" She calls to the men and women.

Like mosquitos to a flame, they swarm around her, taking the food from her hands. Returning to the taxi, she picks up several bags before shutting the door. She walks back to the group and reaches into one of the bags, passing out plates and napkins. She sets the other bag on the cooler nearby and opens the pack of disposable cups, asking everyone what beverage they wanted so she could pour them. We lean against the trunk of the Impala and watch as she talks, bringing smiles to their faces.

"She's something, isn't she?"

Sam chuckles. "She sure is."

"She, uh, she told me a bit about her childhood. I've gotta say, somehow, I respect her more," I admit, my eyes glued to the young hunter.

"Yeah, I felt the same when she told me."

My head sharply turns towards my brother, a blend of surprise and resentment in my expression. "You knew?"

Sam looks back at me, shrugging his shoulders. "'Course. We're best friends."

"And what? Y-you just decided not to tell me?"

"It wasn't my story to tell, Dean," He defends.

I tore my gaze away, knowing he was right. The cab had taken off, and Maricela began strolling toward us. "When did she tell you?"

"Remember when you found out Mari was hunting a nest of vampires in Illinois, and you insisted on taking over since "she couldn't do it alone"?"

My eyes wandered to the left, trying to remember the hunt he was referring to. Then it hit me. "Dude, that was a year ago!" 

"Yeah," He answered.

"So, she just waited to tell you when I was...was...What was I doing?"

"The waitress from the diner."

"Oh, right," I had forgotten about the one-night stand the night before the hunt. Before Maricela neared any closer, I hurried my last question. "Does she tell you more when I'm not around?"

"I think you're not around long enough to listen."

"So, did you boys find anything out?" She asks, halting before us.

I clear my throat, then answer, "Yeah, looks like he's headed for Detroit."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get Cas back!"

Without waiting for a response, she jumps into the back seat of Baby.

Maricela's POV

The sun had set on the way to Detroit. Since no one had eaten since this morning, Dean stopped at a local corner store a state away from our destination. Getting the usual snacks and, of course, his pie.

Sam examines the sticker on the dessert as we walk out. "Look at these chemicals. Do you even read the label?"

Dean takes the pie from his brother's hand and replies, "No. I read 'Pie.' The rest is just 'blah, blah, blah.'" He grabs the plastic bag and stuffs his favorite junk food inside. "Listen, when we hit Detroit, we start with the homeless shelters."

We round the corner, past an occupied payphone, then cross the street toward the alleyway.

"Right, then go to the encampments, soup kitchens," I add.

"Check out places that he might have gone looking for work."

Sam agrees and then suggests, "Yeah, and I can—I can check for vagrancy arrests."

"Yeah, and, you know..." Dean mimics an explosion, referencing angel kills, with sound and a hand gesture near his head. "Odd deaths."

Sam snorts as we turn into the alley, luring our stalker before quickly hiding. The stranger followed as planned, standing in the middle of the alley, trying to locate where we had disappeared. Suddenly, the larger Winchester grabs him by the arm and slams him into a chain fence. Dean holds his hand against the man's chest as both brothers reach for their knives. Their weapons threaten the stalker's neck, his apprehension breaking down the man's tough facade. I stand behind the hunters, letting the boys handle this one.

"Who are you?!" Sam demands, pushing the stranger further into the fence as Dean asks, "Why are you trailing us?"

The man remained silent, eyes glued to the knives near his throat. Already anticipating the Winchester's next move, I swiftly scout the build closest to us. With no sign of life or lights turned on within, I whip the gun out of my jeans and shoot the lock on the door. The gunshot echoes throughout the alleyway, and the brothers quickly lead our hostage inside. After closing the heavy door behind us, we walk further into the abandoned warehouse.

Conveniently, there was a hook already hanging from the ceiling. Sam nods, giving me the go-ahead to shed the stalker of his jacket and the gold chain he sported as they held him in place. Then, Dean cuffs the stranger's hands before he and Sam lift him onto the hook, leaving his body to dangle from the chain between the handcuffs. The man's feet hovered over the cement floor, lightly grazing it with the tips of his shoes. While the stalker struggles against the cuffs, attempting to break loose, Dean trades his previous weapon for an angel blade. Sam and I stand aside, allowing the oldest Winchester to begin the interrogation.

"Let's start with your name." The defenseless man keeps quiet, staring angrily. Dean turns to me and politely orders, "Sweetheart, cut his shirt open."

"Yes, sir." I reach into my boot and pull out my knife.

As I move toward the uncooperative man, he blurts out, "Maurice."

"That's great. Now, what are you?" I inquire with one hand on his collar and the other on the blade.

He stares at me, hesitating to answer. With one quick motion, I slash his shirt in two, exposing his upper body. I walk away as Dean nears the stranger. He uses the edge of the blade and slices the man's face, eliciting a painful groan from the hostage. The eldest Winchester steps away as the youngest repeats my question.

"I'm a bounty hunter."

"Who's on your list?"

"Castiel."

We looked at one other, not understanding why they'd send a rouge reaper after the angel. The man became restless; The weight of his body made his arms lose their sensation. He jolts against the cuffs, using his last efforts to escape but giving up when he realizes there's no use. Dean lacerates the stranger's skin, from collarbone to chest. His vessel heals faster than he’s able to look at his captives.

"So, Maurice," Dean begins. "You bounty hunters are like Delta Force Reapers. Why would they sic you on Cas?"

"He warded himself."

"Naomi hire you?"

The hostage lightly chuckles, almost inaudibly. "You really are out of the loop. Naomi's dead. Resting in pieces."

"So then who's running things now?" asks Sam.

When Maurice remains silent, Dean shouts, "Answer!"

"Her protégé, Bartholomew. He's an up-and-comer."

"So he figured we'd lead you to Cas." The younger Winchester uses his pointer finger for emphasis as he walks around Dean, closer to the reaper.

"This Bartholomew, he organizing the angels?" I inquire, but when he doesn't respond, Dean slices his body once more, coercing him to speak.

Maurice screams in misery, pulling himself together enough to admit, "That's all I know." The eldest brother brings the angel blade to Maurice's chin, lifting his head so he would look him in the eyes. "You can kill me. It won't matter. If I don't find Castiel, there are others that will. But do what you want."

"Sure," Dean utters before impaling Maurice's neck with the blade.

An angelic light emits from the reaper's vessel as he lets out a pained cry. Dean stares into the bright glow, his countenance completely expressionless.

The Impala's RPMs decrease, and the hum of the engine quiets as Dean turns the wheel toward the curb, pulling over. He throws the gear stick into Park before shutting the car off entirely.

Sam looks around, confused. "What's up?"

"We been chasing our tails all night. No Cas. "What's up?" I'm fried." Dean replies, annoyance obvious in his husky voice. "I think it's time for Plan 'B.'"

Sammy ceased to glance around at the area where we were parked and looked back at his brother. "I'm not following."

"I'm letting you know." Dean not-so-subtly tries to communicate with the angel wearing his brother.

"O-okay." Sam straightens in his seat uncomfortably. "Um, letting me know what?"

I couldn't help but giggle after Dean tried again, this time slower. "I'm letting you know."

The younger Winchester's face scrunches with perplexity before Ezekiel takes possession. "What is it, Dean?"

"I need your help."

"That is flattering. We've been through this. I cannot be making public appearances." The angel reminds.

"Oh, I understand that. I'm not asking you to walk the red carpet, Zeke, okay? We need your help finding Cas."

"It cannot be done. He is warded."

"I know that, but maybe you can use your intergalactic, hyperspace, X-ray eyeballs to find someone else."

Zeke wore the same stupefied expression his roommate wore. Clarifying, I say, "There might be a reaper for rent on his ass. Could you find them?"

"I could try."

And so, Ezekiel shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and began searching the city. Dean and I glance at each other, quietly waiting for the angel to finish. After a few minutes, Zeke opens his eyes. I sit up, hoping he's going to deliver good news. Luckily, he gives an address.

Before Dean makes a U-turn and rushes to the apartment building where Castiel is being held hostage, Sam returns. He resumes where he left off, but Dean informs Sam of Cas's whereabouts. Once we arrived at the apartment complex, we raced to number 22. Dean kicks the door open and calls our friend's name, seeing him tied to a chair. The red-headed reaper doesn't waste a second and plunges the angel blade into Cas's abdomen.

The former angel exclaims as the weapon punctures his organs. Dean grabs his blade and lunges toward the reaper, but she flings him across the kitchen island, knocking it out of his hand. Sam and I run towards her simultaneously, and with a flick of her wrists, she sends him into the closet while I get tossed toward the window near the door. The coat rack falls on top of Sam as my body slams into the blinds, destroying the plants lined against the window sill before falling onto the table. She kicks Dean's angel blade away, then turns toward Sam.

Slightly disoriented, I slide off the black table and stagger to my feet as the reaper advances toward Sammy. He watches her stalk confidently before pulling himself out of the closet. Running, I grab Dean's blade off the wood floor as her fist connects with Sam's cheek, knocking him out cold. She turns around just as I shove the silver blade into the same spot she impaled Castiel. She screams with her dying breath before her lifeless body collapses.

"Cas. Cas." I follow Dean's voice. He pulled the weapon out of the man's abdomen, dropping it on the ground. He shook his best friend's shoulders before cupping his face gently. "Cas! Cas!"

But Castiel didn't respond.

"No," I gasp.

Dean stands tall as Sam wakes and rises from the floor. Yet, something about his composure didn't look like himself.

"He's gone," Dean announces sadly.

Sam inches closer, examining our dearly departed. It was clear Castiel was tortured before we arrived. He had slash marks along his chest and abdomen, near the tattoo he got to ward himself. Sam kneels beside Cas, hovering a hand over the wounds. Then, a white light began to glow.

Ezekiel began to heal Castiel. He struggled but powered through, mending the ex-angel's injuries. Dean and I whisper silent prayers, hoping it would do more than heal his wounds and bring him back. Ezekiel stood and began stumbling backward. He steadied himself against the wall before collapsing into unconsciousness. The older Winchester and I move toward Sam, but the rasp of Castiel's voice calling for his best friend stops us.

"Hey," Dean murmured, stepping closer to his buddy. "Hey!"

Cas's ocean-blue eyes shift from Dean over to moi. "Mari."

"Yeah," I answer, choking back a sob.

His head wanders toward Sam, now conscious again. "And Sam."

"Cas. You okay?" Sammy asks the question we all wondered.

Castiel glances at the mess around us and doesn't answer.

Dean straightens, a wave of relief flooding his face. "Never do that again!" He demands.

"All right," Cas agrees without much thought. "But I'm confused. I know she stabbed me, but I'm—well, I don't appear to be dead."

Dean looks to Sam, "Well, you got dinged. And, uh, you." He turns back to Cas, explaining, "I made a deal with her. ‘Said she wouldn't get kabobed if she brought you back. She brought you back."

If I hadn't known the truth, his smile alone would have convinced me otherwise.

"You lied," Castiel notes.

"I did. I do that." He admits.

The two dazed men stare at the eldest Winchester, drinking in his lie.

We made it back to the bunker with Castiel and take-out burritos. I sat at the Map Table, occasionally taking a bite of food, while I read one of the many open books sprawled out on the table.

"You know, you never answered my question. How did you know where to find Cas?" Sam asks his brother as they enter the Command Room.

With his mouth full, Dean explains, "I told you. I went through Maurice's pockets. I found an address and took a shot."

"I never saw you go through Maurice's pockets."

"What are you talking about? I don't see half the nerdy stuff that you do. It doesn't mean that you don't do nerdy stuff." Dean defends before slurping his beverage.

"Lay off him, would you?" I interject. "Sam may be a nerd, but you're a geek. So shut it."

"Ha!" Sam childishly exclaims.

"I am really enjoying this place. Plentiful food. Good water pressure. Things I never even considered before." Castiel beams as Dean sits on the war table beside me. "There really is a lot to being human, isn't there?"

"It ain't all just burritos and strippers, my friend," Dean replies before biting into his burrito.

Cue eye roll.

"Yeah. I understand what you're saying."

"You do?" asks Sam.

"Yes, there's more to humanity than survival. You...look for purpose, and you must not be defeated by anger or despair. Or hedonism, for that matter."

We stare at Castiel; Sam amused, Dean taken aback, and I a mixture of both.

"Where does hedonism come into it?" Dean dares to ask.

"Well, my time with April was very educational." He emphasizes.

"Yeah. I mean, I would think that getting killed is something." Sam chuckles.

"And having sex."

My eyes widen, Sam struggles to speak, and Dean chokes.

"You had sex with April?" The sex-addicted Winchester questions, standing up and giving his undivided attention.

"Yeah, that would be where the hedonism comes in," Sam whispers, hands on his hips.

Dean shushes him and waits for Castiel's response. Shy yet modestly proud, the former angel nods. The younger brother nods, impressed, while the other chuckles as I shake my head in disbelief.

"So...did you have protection?" Dean asks slyly, a smirk plastered on his face.

After cringing at his forward question, I bring the straw to my lips and sip my soda.

Confused, Cas answers, "I had my angel blade."

"Oh—Oh, he had the angel blade." Dean mocks.

Laughter takes control of my body and forces me to gag on the Coca-Cola I had not yet swallowed before expelling the soda onto the floor, just missing Cas. I hear the men, minus the one who hadn't taken sex-ed, snicker at my mishap. The sticky liquid drips from my chin as I grab napkins to wipe it off. Castiel stands there, oblivious to what caused my spit-take.

"Are you alright, Maricela?" He asks with concern.

"Mhm," I hum, elbowing Dean in his ribs.

"In any event, I—I do now see how difficult life can be and how well you all have led it. And I think you'll be great teachers."

"Thanks. Cas." Says Dean.

"Are there any more burritos?"

"Uh, yes." The eldest Winchester points to the library. The new human walks toward the food, and we watch after him. "Our little Cas. He gave it up to a reaper. That is—"

Unexpectedly, Zeke makes an appearance. "Castiel cannot stay here. He will bring the angels down on all of us."

"No, no, he's got the Enochian tattoo. He's warded." I remind the angel.

"He was warded when April found him, and she killed him."

"Yes, and you brought him back, and I thank you for that, but this is Cas, okay, who vouched for you when I didn't know you from Jack. The bunker is safe." Dean pleads his case.

"Bartholomew is massing a force. We cannot stand an incursion. Castiel is in danger, and if he is here, I am in danger." Ezekiel argues.

"You're in danger? From who, the angels?"

Ezekiel glances at Cas. "If he stays, I am afraid I will have no choice but to leave."

"Oh, no, you can't do that. Sam's not well enough. If you leave his body..." I trail off, and the angel finishes, understanding the outcome.

"I am sorry."

Leaving Dean with no choice, he walks into the corridor towards Sam's room. I glance at Dean, completely torn. He hesitates but sets his beverage and burrito on the table. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Just when we got Cas back...

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[kaistarus]

The Key to Love is Timing

Pairings: Hinata X Reader

Words: 3.5K

Summary: If the first confession fails... Just bottle it up for a few years and hope for the best? Hinata messed up the first time, but he's not one for quitting.

Notes: This has lots of manga spoilies. I just love time-skip Hinata and he deserves more content 🥰 

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Karasuno high school loomed in front of you. The place that served as a sanctuary for so many years, helping you build lasting friendships and memories in classrooms that would soon be filled with new freshmen to take your place. It was bittersweet knowing your locker would soon belong to someone else, but you could only hope it would serve them as well as it had you.

Almost everyone had left the school grounds since it was nearing sundown, but you needed a while longer to say goodbye. You trailed your hand down the granite pillar that held the small canopied entrance. You were never good with goodbyes, and it would be hard to leave your friends behind. You’d made your plans to keep in touch and although you were the realistic type you still held had hope it could work out.

There was only one person you had avoided talking to...

“(Y/N)!”

You inhaled slowly before glancing over your shoulder at the boastful voice coming from across the courtyard. Hinata. You were hoping you’d run into him, whether you’d let yourself admit it or not. You noticed his sleeves were rolled up his forearms and that the schoolbag hung casually over his shoulder contained his uniform jacket-the sleeve hanging out loosely-as he pushed his bike toward you.

“Hey, yourself,” you tightened the grip on your own bag and languidly came to meet him at the front of the entrance. He was slightly out of breath when he reached out, taking large gulps of air to gather himself before speaking.

“I was hoping you would be here. I lost track of time and was worried I missed you.” He gave a crooked grin that made your heart skip.

“Well, I figured it would take you forever to say good-bye to Kageyama.”

He tilted his head in confusion before his face lit up. “You were waiting for me?”

Your eyes widened at your mistake. “No. I mean, I didn’t not want to see you, like, if we bumped into each other that would’ve been cool, but I wasn’t purposely trying to waste time...”

Smooth.

You found yourself unable to meet Hinata’s eyes until you heard a lighthearted laugh. His genuine smile was framed with unruly autumn hair that contrasted the cherry blossoms of spring that were flying through the air. You broke your Hinata induced trance when you realized he had swiped your bag from your grip.

“Um, excuse me?”

Instead of responding he took to placing your bag on the opposite handlebar from his own bag and pushing his bike ahead of you. You blinked, confused, before catching up to the boy.

“Since when do you carry bags?” You raised an eyebrow while gesturing to the bike. “Usually you whine about how it’s abuse I’m making you push your own bike.”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it,” he shrugged and turned away from you which only raised your suspicion that he was up to something. If he tried to steal your bag or pull some last day of school prank on you… you were so not in the mood.

“Wait, where are we going?” You realized you’d just been following the familiar backroad without thought. “Are you walking me home?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t we going to the halfway point? My house is completely out of the way.” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at Hinata’s scrunched up face. “You’re acting really weird. Should I be concerned?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking about doing it professionally.” You stuck your tongue out at his deadpan glare and ignored the grumbling that followed. You focused on the warmth in your chest as you teased him and not the lurking dread that dweld with every step closer to your house.

“When do you leave for University?” Hinata’s question made your stomach twist.

“April,” you shrugged. “I leave for Tokyo a few weeks before classes start.” The silence that followed was unbearable. “When… do you leave?”

“Two days.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned to him. You had figured he would be leaving quickly, but you always envisioned a month or two at least. Your time had been wasted and you didn’t even realize.

“That’s…”

“Soon.” He finished. You nodded slowly. “I wanted to start training as soon as possible. I need to learn everything I can about beach volleyball so I can be the best player possible.”

“I’m so happy for you, Hinata.”

And you were. Even if the smile on your face felt a bit forced you knew that you truly meant those words. So you ignored the ache in your heart because it came from a selfish part of you that was scared to lose someone you cared too deeply for. Someone who had the courage to chase their passions to new continents. You shoved down the pain and focused on your admiration at his continuous drive for self-discovery and improvement.

There was no time to pity yourself.

“We’ve both got adventures ahead of us,” Hinata said with an ear to ear grin on his face. You could only nod in agreement because Tokyo was nothing like Brazil, but you had your own sense of self-discovery you supposed. Slowly, Hinata’s face dropped into something more weary and his eyes drifted to his feet. “But…”

“But?”

“It’ll be weird not seeing you all the time,” he started, lifting his head to the sky. You followed his gaze, but found nothing of interest beside the cloudless sky slowly fading to peach hues as the sun set. “I mean, you won’t be coming to my games or bullying me at school.”

“I don’t bully you.” You deadpanned.

He waved you off. “You won’t be able to come over and help me teach Natsu volleyball when she complains I’m not a good enough teacher either.”

“Well, not everyone understands your ‘wam’ and ‘zoom’ into a ‘fwump’!” You said while moving your arms into random receives and spikes to match the sounds.

“Nishinoya did,” he narrowed his eyes. “Whatever, the point is you’ll be gone and… I’m going to miss you.” He glanced over quickly. “More than the average person.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You nudged his shoulder. “Lighten up. You’re acting so weird today.”

“I’m not acting weird…”

“You are!” A gust of wind sent cherry blossoms floating toward you from the trees that perched along your path. You held out your hand and let a few settle into your palm before smirking at the boy beside you. “Cherry blossoms, carrying my bag, talking all mushy. If you were anyone else I’d think this was some poor attempt at a love confession.”

Hinata stumbled over his steps before pausing all together and you furrowed your brow at him before realization struck you. His face had blossomed red in a furious blush and his eyes were set on you determinedly in a way that had your heart racing.

Your mouth went dry. “Hinata-”

“I’m not good with words.” He took a shuddering breath and his fists clenched. “Going to Brazil is my dream, but when I think about you not being there I kinda feel like I’m gonna throw up or something. And when I’m not thinking about volleyball I’m usually thinking about when I get to see you next so…” He glanced up at you more confidently and you started to panic. You’d wanted this for so long but… “I don’t know a lot of things, but I know that I love volleyball. So, it would only make sense that I also lo-”

“Stop.” You put your hand up between you both. “You can’t…”

“What are you talking about?” He tilted his head confused. “I’m pretty sure I can. I mean I’ve been debating it for at least a year now so-”

“A year?” Your eyes widen before you shake it off. “Nevermind, I meant not now. Not when you’re about to leave and I’m about to start university and…” You clench the material of your pleated skirt. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

He furrowed his brow at you and his eyes scanned your face. “How wouldn’t it be fair?”

You took a few shaky breaths to calm yourself and to hold back the unshed tears that burn in the back of your eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden to your training in-”

“You would never be a-”

“But it’d feel that way.”

His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth while he was deep in thought. You always found that a cute quirk, but now you were just desperate to know what possibly was going on in his head. He scratched the back of his head and glanced toward the sky once again, but like before you saw nothing of interest there.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your eyes once more. “Next time then.”

You blinked. “Next… time?”

He gave you a crooked grin. “Yep, it’s not like I’ll be gone forever.”

It seemed like such a silly thing to cry over such a naive promise, like he would actually still have feelings for you when or if he ever decided to come back to Japan. The realistic part of you knew it was a childish fantasy, but let him believe his bold words like you knew only Hinata could. However, the hopeful part of you, the one that leaked tears the moment Hinata’s smiling face was out of view, clung to the idea of his dramatic return and your tragic love story.

But days turned to months, and months turned to years, and you were no longer a child. You had come to terms that the world wasn't made for fairy tale endings.

 ~*~*~*~

 Nearly four years had passed since that day and for the most part you had moved on from it. You take a deep breath before flashing your laminated badge to the security guard that would allow you to enter the massive gymnasium. No matter how many times you come to these venues it still gives you a thrill being around the chaotic environment. The crowd’s chants, scuffling of athletes shoes, coaches encouraging shouts and rushed commands all created a cacophony unmatched by anything you’d ever heard. It was a no brainer that you were addicted to the atmosphere, eventually building yourself a career that allowed you to become a part of it all.

You had plenty of time before the match started to conduct the interview you’d been assigned for that day. You glanced at the scoreboard and a nervous ball hit the pit of your stomach at seeing MSBY Black Jackals vs Schweiden Adlers. You attributed it to the number of people in the audience, rather than the person you’d been lucky enough to be assigned to interview.

Nope. This definitely had nothing to do with Hinata Shoyo.

As you unnecessarily prepared your notes, pen, and recorder for the fifteenth time since you’d arrived at the arena you glanced into the audience. Your eyes landed on Yamaguchi and Yachi waving wildly to you from the stands and you waved back, taking note of the empty seat Yachi was pointing to beside her. Looks like you’d be staying for the match after all.

You stretched your arms above your head and let out a sigh, adjusting your blazer before glancing over your shoulder to where MSBY had now filtered onto the sidelines. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tufts of orange hair bouncing between the team and you hadn’t even noticed your soft smile until Bokuto was pointing in your direction. Hinata’s head whipped toward you and you felt yourself freeze. If you were back in high school you’d probably describe this moment of staring into his amber eyes as magical in some way, but you just felt embarrassed you couldn’t remain composed while on the job.

He sends you a crooked grin and with a light shove from Atsumu he’s jogging over in your direction. You take a deep breath to center yourself before he’s way too close in your personal bubble.

“Hey.” He smirked at you. It was a familiar look, but he carried it differently. He radiated a newfound confidence that he didn’t have last time you’d seen him. Had he also gotten taller?

“Hi.” You breathed out. Internally cursing yourself for allowing him to have such an effect on you after so many years.

“You, uh, look really nice” He said, amber eyes bright and genuine. They were still so open, like shameless windows to his every emotion. At least that hadn’t changed.

“You look pretty good too.” You said quickly switching your focus to your notes. “How’s being back?”

“Trying to give me a pre-interview?” He smirked, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Don’t think I agreed to that one.”

“Just trying to get a better feel for the client,” you shrugged. “Not required, I suppose.”

“Client?” He pouted.

“This is a paid interaction.”

“Well, let’s keep it PG cause I’m really only good at volleyball for now,” he smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Your face dusted light pink at the suggestion. Yeah, he’d definitely matured over the last four years.

“Here’s the questions I’ll be asking,” you decided to ignore him, along with the cute pout he gave at being ignored, and get straight to business. “I’m going to be recording our conversation for my writing, so don’t worry about stumbling or speed or anything. Just relax and take your time.” Hinata’s eyes were soft when you looked back up to make sure he was paying attention. “What?”

“You’re just so cool.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek to calm your nerves. “It’s not that special. I’m just doing my job.”

“But you’re so good at it. You look badass.”

You shrugged. “I’m going to start the recording now,” you said and the moment he nodded in acknowledgement you pressed record. “Hinata Shoyo. MSBY player 21.” You said, marking the interview for yourself to which he just raised an eyebrow. “So, this is your first interview, right?”

“I had small ones in Brazil, but this is my first one as a professional player in Japan.” He smiled widely. “I made sure you were the first interview I had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I got a few offers, but they didn’t matter to me if it wasn’t you doing them.”

You blinked at the confession, and found yourself lagging as you looked for the next question. “Um-okay, well, this is your first professional game this season on the starting line-up. What made you choose MSBY?”

“They were the best team at the time having try-outs!” Hinata crossed his arms and nodded. “I have to beat Kageyama after all.”

“It had nothing to do with Bokuto?” You tilted your head. You honestly thought he picked based on friendship.

“Nope, but that was an awesome coincidence!” He leaned closer to you and you looked around awkwardly. “So, what made you choose to be a sports journalist for volleyball? Anyone important in your life?”

Your heart began beating rapidly in your chest and you pushed Hinata’s face back with your notepad. “I’m sorry. I thought I was conducting the interview.”

“Well, as the client I feel I would be most comfortable answering my questions in a back-and-forth style.” He smiled innocently and you deadpanned. “Also, this is my first time, remember? I’m still learning.”

You rolled your eyes before deciding to just humor him. “I knew a kid in high school. Pretty obsessed with volleyball, so I spent a lot of time around it.”

“He sounds pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, it really depends on the day.” You said, making Hinata pout and grumble under his breath. “So, you went to Brazil for your career. How was it different there?”

“Beach volleyball is so different. It's an entirely new game compared to here. Less hands, more feet. There’s the wind and then the sand. It was really hard getting used to.”

“Will you be using some of that technique tonight?” You asked.

“On the court or...?” He smirked slyly with mirth dancing in his eyes. You glared at him and he sighed. “I mean, yeah. You’re staying for the game, right?”

“Um--I...yeah.” You answered awkwardly, looking between Hinata and the notes. He raised an eyebrow at your weird response.

“Are you dating someone?” He asked bluntly.

“What?” Your ears shot to your shoulders at his question, but he just looked at you calmly. “I-What does that-Why?”

“Cause you’re acting weird.”

You furrowed your brow and glared at the courts flooring beneath you. ““How do you think Brazil has impacted your playstyle?”

“You’re avoiding my question,” he said as you continued to avoid the question. He let out a groan before continuing. “You’ll definitely see it through my receives and blocking. I think it’ll really surprise people in my first match back.” Hinata answered smoothly. “So, are you single or…?”

You raised a brow. “Does it matter?”

“Duh,” he scoffed, dragging a hand down his face.

You sighed dramatically. “No, I’m not dating someone currently.”

“Currently!?”

“Oh my god, we’re like 22. Yes, I dated someone for a while just...” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I heard you were called Ninja Shoyo in Brazil. Do you know where that came from?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m Japanese.” He waved it off and you furrowed your brow grumpily at his lazy response.

“Hinata you have to at least try to-”

“Do you still love me?”

You choke on your breath and nearly let the recorder slide out of your hands, but Hinata manages to grab it with quick reflexes. He holds it between you, tilting his head with an inquisitive stare.

“I don’t know what you-”

“Because I still love you.” He declared, refusing to break eye-contact as he finally confessed what he’d held on to for so long. “Have for over four years. I kept waiting for the right time, and I’m finally back now for good so… I feel like this is it.”

You stood there in disbelief and tightened your grip around your notebook in an attempt to ground yourself. This was not part of your plan. You had given up on this long ago. “There’s no way you still-”

“It never faded. There were a few times I wished it would,” he looked away almost shamefully. “Only when it hurt a lot, like, when I felt really alone. But even when I tried I just couldn’t. I’d read your articles and everything would come back, ya know?”

You nodded slowly. You remember how it felt when Yachi sent you the article about ‘Ninja Shoyo’. The way your heart had leapt just from seeing his picture. You had stayed up the entire night rereading the poorly translated article and telling yourself you just missed an old friend, nothing more.

You dumping your boyfriend a week later had absolutely nothing to do with it…

“It’s complicated.” You settled on. There were too many factors now.

“Then we can figure it out,” his wide smile nearly sent a thrum through your heart you’d been unknowingly yearning for. “No need to overthink. We have plenty of time.”

Your heart swelled at the words and their implications. “I guess… there is.”

“You said you’re staying for the game?” He asked, which you confirmed with a nod. “Awesome. We can eat and catch up or something.” His eyes widened as he waved his hands between you. “Doesn’t need to be a date. We can just hang out like old times.”

“But what if... I want to call it a date?” You asked nearly above a whisper, twisting the ball of your foot into the ground.

Hinata paused before breaking out into a crooked smile. “Then I’d be fucking thrilled, but no pressure. Okay?”

A whistle sounded and you both turned to see the MSBY’s coach waving to Hinata as the rest of his team took the court for warm-ups. You frowned at the sheet in your hands. “We barely made through the questions…”

“There’s tons of material on here,” Hinata winked as he pressed your recorder into your palm. “You can interrogate me with whatever after the game too.”

You smiled affectionately at him as another warning whistle came from his coach. He apologized to you quickly before running off toward the court. Your cheeks warmed when Bokuto ruffled Hinata’s hair and Atsumu gave a few suggestive looks in your direction while whispering in Hinata’s ear. But when he gave Atsumu a shove, his face a flaming red, you knew you hadn’t been kidding anyone.

The lights dimmed in the arena and you made your way to where Yachi had been seated in the stands. You kept glancing toward the sunshine boy who managed to light up your life the second he returned. Someone with that strong of a magnitude couldn’t help but attract everyone around him.

As he bounced around the court, laughing boastfully with Bokuto, the only thought in your head was that it should have been obvious. Of course you had never stopped loving him.

How could anyone stop loving someone like him.

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER VIII

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: severe swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of fire

WORD COUNT: 3.2k+

AN: this chapter took an achingly long time to complete, and while it’s not very long, it’s really important!!

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

"Stop fidgeting," Taehyun said through gritted teeth.

"I can't help it," Beomgyu responded, teeth similarly clenched. He waved politely as he sat down on the throne. "This is so itchy. I told the seamstress not to put the silver stitches down the side of the trousers, but evidently she didn't listen to me."

"Well do try and endure it," Taehyun said, a plastic smile on his face as he bowed to the noble who came up to him. “We have three more hours of this.”

Beomgyu crossed one leg over the other, trying to quell the itching. He rubbed his nose, annoyed. “Who made the revel this long?” he demanded, glaring at Taehyun.

“You said to keep it as if it were a real revel,” Taehyun replied smoothly. “Don’t you remember?”

Beomgyu sighed. “The flower ritual, the ballad composing, the synchronised dance and then the free dance? Is the schedule normally so packed?”

“Well, it’s a festival celebration,” Taehyun reasoned. “Those are always really long. Plus, we needed to include something like a flower ritual to make it seem real.”

Beomgyu grumbled, fidgeting with the silver stitches on his legs. “I can still go and interact with them, right?”

“Yeah sure, I don’t care,” Taehyun dismissed. “If you get mauled before your speech, it’s not my problem.”

“I won’t get mauled,” Beomgyu said. “That happened one time, okay?”

“Yeah, and since then we’ve hidden in the King’s Corner. Which you didn’t set up this time. But by all means, you’re welcome to try and see if you’ll be overwhelmed by the people.”

“Rude,” Beomgyu muttered. Nevertheless, he stayed up on the dais, elbow propped up on the throne’s armrest, cheek smushed against his hand.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun had gotten good at zoning out during formal events. He stood, next to Beomgyu’s throne, staring at nothing and thinking of nothing. He was completely and utterly zoned out from everything that was going on around him. When he registered a finger annoying at his sleeve, however, he gradually zoned back in. Taehyun looked down, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Those ruffles look annoying.” Beomgyu, eyebrows furrowed, was examining the lace ruffles of Taehyun’s sleeve, a look of utmost concentration on his face.

When Taehyun tried to tug his arm away, Beomgyu only held tighter to the fabric. Afraid of ripping it, Taehyun kept his arm in place, choosing to subtly glare at Beomgyu.

“Come on, I know you’re not really that fascinated by my sleeve. What do you want?”

“I want to know what colour this is. Ivory? No, it’s far too much of a soft colour to be ivory. Chiffon, maybe?” Beomgyu paused, frowning down at the sleeve. He leaned forwards so that his nose was practically touching the material, and spoke in a low tone. “Also, there are Lords watching me, and I don’t like it.” He leaned back with a casual smile on his face. “Ah, I’ve got it. It’s pearl.” He smoothed down the fabric, gently rearranging the folds so that they hung evenly. Taehyun’s ears burned when Beomgyu’s fingers brushed against his skin, and he quickly crossed his arms to prevent Beomgyu from playing with his sleeves anymore. He shot Beomgyu a glare, before scanning the crowds. The scowl slipped off his face once he noticed what Beomgyu had picked up on.

“You’re right.” He bit his lip, scanning the ballroom. Now he was paying attention, he noticed that something about the atmosphere felt… off. He widened his eyes a little, realising what it was. “Shit. Beomgyu, are you sure you still want to go ahead with this?”

Beomgyu looked at him as if he were crazy. “Uh, yeah? Of course? A few hostile Lords aren’t going to stop me.”

“No, no, it’s not just them,” Taehyun said. He nodded his head towards the ballroom floor. “Can’t you feel it?”

Beomgyu looked out at the ballroom, scanning the marbled room. He looked at the people, gathered together in their small groups, talking, dancing, eating. He looked at the few strange Lords lurking behind the pillars, glancing at the dais on which Beomgyu and Taehyun stood. He looked at all of this, before turning back to Taehyun. “No? I don’t feel it?”

“You don’t?” Taehyun said sceptically, scanning the ballroom himself. “Hm. That’s odd.”

Beomgyu tilted his head. “Why? What do you feel?”

“I don’t know, it just feels… something feels… not right. Something doesn’t feel right.” Taehyun shook his head. “Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing.”

Beomgyu eyed him for a moment, before signalling over one of his personal guards. “Call in the Invisi. Something’s not right here, and we need to be cautious.” The guard nodded, stepping down from the dais to carry out the order. Taehyun looked at him curiously.

“You’re bringing in the invisible guards?”

“I trust your judgement,” Beomgyu stated simply. “If something happens, it’ll be good to have them here. If nothing happens,” Beomgyu shrugged. “That’s fine too. They won’t appear unless necessary, so it’s no harm done if we don’t need them.”

Taehyun nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” he acknowledged. “You trust my judgement that much, huh?”

“Well duh. You’re literally one of the smartest people in Gojongja. I didn’t pick you to be my vizier just out of spite,” Beomgyu said. “I’d rather like to have you by my side as I rule.” He quirked a small grin. Taehyun’s ears warmed at the unexpected compliment. With a start, he realised he missed this. Missed how warm and friendly it could feel to be around Beomgyu. The past few months, they’d constantly be surrounded by this cold, electric chill around them, as if one wrong word would ignite an explosion from either one of them. He glanced down, and gave a small smile.

“So I guess you want me to be the Queen to your King?”

Beomgyu’s smile froze in place, before slowly slipping off. He gave a small scowl. “That’s not saying I want to be King,” he said. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

And just like that, the fragile, comfortable atmosphere they’d created was shattered with those words. It reminded them both of how they’d managed to end up here, and the unspoken undertone of ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for betraying me’ hung in the air between them, like a cold, unshakeable chill.

Taehyun didn’t say anything, and returned his gaze to the ballroom floor.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

The two of them stood there on the dais for a while longer. Neither said a word. Beomgyu kept glancing over at Taehyun, while the vizier was intent on avoiding his gaze. Taehyun scanned the crowds of people idly, before doing a double-take and looking more closely.

"Beomgyu…"

"King Beomgyu, if you may," Beomgyu corrected, taking a sip of water. "We're in public."

Taehyun ignored him. "Where's Lord Yeonjun?"

“Oh, he’s visiting Aruyeo,” Beomgyu said calmly. “He had a letter to deliver. I told him one of our messengers could take it for him, but he said the person it’s for is wary of strangers. So he’s taking it himself.”

“He’s riding all the way to Aruyeo?” Taehyun asked, surprised.

“Yes. He left this morning. He might not be back for a while.”

“So he took one of the horses… and left? To Aruyeo?” Taehyun said doubtfully. “Do you trust him?”

"Yeah. Don't worry," Beomgyu patted Taehyun's arm, "everything is fine."

"Did you actually plan a speech?" Taehyun asked skeptically after a few moments.

"Yes. Sort of. It's all up here," Beomgyu said, tapping the side of his head. "I'll know what to say when the time comes, chill," Beomgyu sighed when Taehyun glared at him. "Remember the impromptu speech I gave when you crowned me? That was good, wasn't it? It'll be fine."

Taehyun hummed dubiously, but didn't say a word.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Sir, it is almost time.”

Beomgyu nodded. “Thank you, Seojung.” He took the glass and decorative spoon offered to him, and looked over at Taehyun. Taehyun nodded.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said to Beomgyu.

Beomgyu stood up from the throne, and walked towards the front of the dais, lifting up the glass and spoon.

The light, tinkling sound of metal against crystal filled the ballroom, and gradually the chattering died down as everyone looked up at the King. As he looked around, suddenly, he felt it. There was something wrong.

Nevertheless, he willed away the foreboding feeling in his stomach, and smiled, a brilliant, sparkling smile, which lit up even the darkest corners of the ballroom. “You’re all well, I hope? I apologise for organising a revel at such short notice, but I hope you all don’t mind.” He gave another bright smile, looking around the room.

“As you all know, this revel is to celebrate the Flower Moon, which is today. Now, you may be slightly confused at this, since here in Gojongja we don’t really celebrate the Flower Moon. But, this date coincides with an important announcement I wanted to share with you.” Beomgyu clasped his hands together, and a little flicker of nervousness fluttered in his stomach. There was definitely something wrong. “About a month ago, Coronation Revels ended. During then and now, several things have happened, which I believed it would be best to tell you about.

“Some of you may know that an Aruyeonan representative came to my coronation, as is custom when a Gojongja monarch is to be crowned. This lord has the name Lord Yeonjun.”

“Cut the chase!” a voice called from the crowd. “We know what you’re going to say, so hurry up!”

Beomgyu blinked, momentarily thrown off, before quickly regaining his composure. “Alright. Lord Yeonjun came to propose an alliance, and I accepted.”

Outraged yells were heard from the crowd. Some people nodded their heads in a ‘I told you so’ way, as if they knew of the alliance already, while others looked outraged and shocked.

Taehyun’s hands, which were clasped tight behind his back, dug into the soft skin of his forearms. This was going to go wrong.

“I told you!” The same commoner as before yelled out. “I told you, that Lord told me he’d made an alliance, and no one believed me! He did this without telling us! He gave away our land!”

“Please calm down! I assure you, this alliance was made with Gojongja’s best interests at heart. I’d never give away your land. It is beneficial to us, it truly is.” Beomgyu placed a hand over his chest. “I swear it.”

“Sir!”

Taehyun’s fingers wrapped around his wrists tightly. He turned in the direction of the voice. Though his face didn’t change, inwardly, he cursed. Those stupid Lords.

“Your Greatness, if I may,” the Lord called out. “Even if this alliance was to be beneficial, don’t you think it would have been best to discuss with the public? This is their land you’re bargaining with, their lives you are potentially altering.”

Beomgyu frowned. “I am sure I just said that this alliance does not affect your land, nor your lives. The only thing we bargain is our knowledge.” He looked at Taehyun. “Is that correct?”

Taehyun nodded. “Yes, sire. The only physical part of our country that we bargain are the forests.”

“See?” Beomgyu turned back to the Lord.

“But still,” the Lord continued. “Discussing it with us beforehand gives us reason to trust you.” The Lord turned to address the rest of the public. “Do you think, having a new King make important decisions such as an alliance, without discussing with his people first, is a trait of a King you trust?”

People voiced their agreement, still glaring at Beomgyu.

“That is enough,” Beomgyu said, annoyed. “Please, sit dow-”

“Is it the sign of a good, strong King to team up with another Kingdom? Is it a sign that you are capable, if you need another Kingdom to back you up? And most importantly, is it the sign of a trustworthy King for you to do these things without telling any of your people?” The Lord scoffed. “It’s not. It’s not at all. You-” he stabbed a finger in Beomgyu’s direction- “are not a King I’d trust at all.”

Beomgyu blinked, shocked, before letting out a laugh. “Well that is indeed a pity! You don’t trust me? That’s understandable.” When the Lord opened his mouth again, Beomgyu held up a hand. “Enough. I am not even a year into my reign. And, being from a new clan, of course you don’t trust me! However, you must have seen me in court, perhaps about five years ago? And you’ll know that I am nothing if not trustworthy and have Gojongja’s best interests at heart. You, however…” he looked at the Lord, and gave a pitying smile. “You are a lesser Lord. Who, I believe, has only been in court for just over a year. What do you know about what I’m like?”

The Lord pursed his lips, face growing dark. He stood there, vibrating with anger, before rushing towards the throne. Before he could get far, though, Beomgyu thrust out his hand, presumably to use the wind to push him back. However, as soon as he flicked his wrist, the chandeliers suddenly exploded, raining crystals onto the ballroom floor. Most fires from the candles were extinguished as they fell, but some caught the ivy and set fire to the vines. People screamed, cowering away from the crystal shards. Over the chaos, the Lord continued to yell.

“He can’t even control his abilities! What sort of King is he?”

More voices began to chorus angrily against the King. Beomgyu didn’t seem to hear any of them, glaring at the first Lord who had spoken out. The Invisi had already begun to spill in from where they’d been standing to try and placate the people. Beomgyu was still stood, motionless, and Taehyun felt his hands curl into fists. He looked back out at the crowd, and saw that all the Lords had disappeared, and only the common folk remained. He felt his arm being tugged, and suddenly, Beomgyu was pulling him off the dais, away from the ballroom.

“Hey!” Once they were out in a hallway, Taehyun tried to yank his arm away to no avail, glaring at Beomgyu. “Let go.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu glowered, striding fast down the hall. Taehyun was going to say something else, but caught sight of Beomgyu’s face. His mouth was set in a hard line, eyebrows furrowed. Taehyun hadn’t seen Beomgyu with anything other than an annoyed frown or a teasing smirk before, and this strange side of him sent chills down his spine. Beomgyu’s eyes, normally twinkling with a mischievous light, were now dark and fierce, and burned with a ferocity that Taehyun had never known a human to possess. Taehyun gulped, and let Beomgyu keep a firm grip on his arm, leading him to wherever the King was going.

“Wh-where are we going?” Taehyun asked.

“Council room,” Beomgyu replied shortly. “All the Lords disappeared, see? They’re probably there.”

“O-okay.”

Beomgyu glanced at him, and noticed the iron grip he was keeping on Taehyun’s arm, and let his hand release the vizier. Neither of them said another word.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Beomgyu threw open the door. “What-” he roughly scraped the chair across the floor, pushing it aside- “the fuck-” he slammed his hands down on the table, glaring at the other members of the council- “was that?”

Taehyun quietly followed Beomgyu, standing behind the King.

Beomgyu’s fingers curled into the wood, ferociously glaring at the Lords, who had suddenly gone silent. “Well?” he asked.

At that moment, the one troublesome lord strolled in, followed by an incredibly tall one. “Ah, you’re here already. I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself.” the Lord bowed mockingly, smirking. “Lord Haejun, Your Greatness. A pleasure.”

Beomgyu stared down his nose disdainfully. “I don’t care. I just want to know what that was.”

Lord Haejun widened his eyes, putting his hands up innocently. “Don’t put all the blame on me!” He looked around, and grabbed the tall lord’s arm. “It was Lord Soobin’s idea.”

Beomgyu let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m not dumb. There’s no way this was his idea.” He stalked up to Lord Haejun, and brought his face close to the Lord’s. “Why did you do that? Why would you go to so much trouble as to put fucking bombs in my chandeliers?”

Lord Haejun looked unfazed, grinning obnoxiously. “No bombs, Your Greatness. It was simply you and your out-of-control power.” Beomgyu growled, and fisted Lord Haejun’s collar, pushing him up against the wall.

“You little shit,” he hissed. “That wasn’t me. You know that!”

At this point, Taehyun knew that he should step in, maybe separate the two, but he couldn’t seem to do anything other than stay against the wall, and watch it all unfold.

“Oops, looks like you found me out,” Lord Haejun said. As Beomgyu snarled at him, scrunching up the Lord’s collar even tighter, he let out a laugh. “Gosh, father said you were calm and composed! Where’s all that gone, hm?”

Beomgyu growled, and released the Lord’s collar. “Lord Namjae’s little boy, are you?” He turned to glare at Taehyun. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Taehyun, for some reason, couldn’t speak, couldn’t utter a word against Beomgyu’s rage. It was like all his words had deserted him. He opened and closed his mouth helplessly.

Lord Haejun straightened his collar, smirking. “He didn’t feel like there was any need, obviously. Anyways, Father’s away on business, so I planned the little… performance in his stead.”

Beomgyu clenched his hands into fists. “Little? You harmed the public! This is serious. Did you all know about this?” he thundered, glaring at the rest of the nobles. They all stuttered, suddenly unable to form coherent sentences. “Doesn’t matter. You probably all did.” Beomgyu turned his fierce gaze to Taehyun. “You take care of them. And this time, don’t fucking forget to remind me to change the members of this council.” He gave one more disgusted look to the cowering lords, and a venomous glare towards Lord Haejun, before sweeping out of the room. Taehyun stuttered weakly, hand raised. Beomgyu was just… storming out? He looked around the room, unsure what to do, before waving a hand.

“You- you’re all dismissed.”

And then, without waiting for the lords to react, Taehyun hurried out after Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu!”

Beomgyu turned at the call of his name, and saw Taehyun running to catch up with him. “What?” he snapped.

“A- are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine,” Beomgyu said sarcastically. “I’ve just been accused of intentionally harming Gojongja, and called weak in front of the whole Kingdom. I’ve never been better.” He glared at Taehyun. “Don’t ask me stupid questions.” With that, he stalked off, leaving Taehyun standing shellshocked in the middle of the carpeted hallway.

“Sir Taehyun!”

Taehyun looked behind him to see Yeonjun coming up to him. It was evident he’d just gotten back from riding, as his boots were splattered with mud, and he still had a coat on.

“I saw all the glass in the ballroom,” he said, stopping next to the vizier. “And there’s a lot of blood, and some fire. What happened?” For some reason, the question ignited an irritated fire within Taehyun, and his mouth twisted into an annoyed frown.

“Well the announcement went fine,” Taehyun said sarcastically. “What do you think?” He glared at the Aruyeonan. “Just go to your chambers. Don’t interfere.” Yeonjun hesitated, but bowed and walked away, muddied footprints following him down the hall. Taehyun watched him go, and ran a hand through his hair. What the fuck had just happened?