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hxseok-honee · 2 years ago

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control [1] || trouble - stripped.

control [chapter 1] || demon king ! yoongi written au

masterlist || playlist

[but i've got my mind made up this time // 'cause there's a menace in my bed // can you see his silhouette?]

a/n: welcome to chapter 1 of this 9-part series!! there’s a LOT of worldbuilding here so please feel free to ask any questions you want after reading!! ill try to clarify anything that isn’t too much of a spoiler!

i will try to post part 2 as soon as it’s done, but this chapter was 20 pages long, and i simply don’t write that fast, so please be patient! additionally, please feel free to check out the playlist - the chapters are aligned with the songs they’re named after and would make good mood setters if you’re someone who likes that reading experience.

a note to minors: this series will contain smut and sexual themes, so please do not interact with this series! thank you!

taglist [open!]:

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @sopebubbles-replies @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @taeshuworld @instantspot @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @knjsagustd @speedyengineerhologram @wrmnssoul @jaiuneamesolitaiire @loveyoongles @siredsong @jooniesbanoonies @supahumbreon @goodnight-n-go-home @robsdrope @apolloxxivmin @tarahardcore @slayergroupie0128 @tutnotmytea @aestheticsluut @annie0568 @cosmicdaylight

___________________________

“This assembly of the Ruling Court is hereby now in session.”

Yoongi sighs deeply, running his fingers through his hair once and cracking his neck to ease the tension building in the back of his head. These meetings only happen four times a year - once per season - and somehow he feels like this might be the hardest part of his whole job.

His eyes skim over each of the kings seated here at the High Table with him, trying to gauge everyone’s moods from their body language. King Lee from the Western Dragonguard, already on his second cup of mead and clearly feeling it. King Park of the Northern Borderlands, shrouded in an air of suspicion, not that that’s anything of interest. With a nickname like the Paranoid Recluse, it’s a wonder the guy even bothers to show up to these meetings at all.

Yoongi’s amused by his own internal monologue, the ghost of a smile crossing his exhausted features. It catches the attention of the man seated directly across from him, Yoongi meeting the eyes of King Kim and finding a subtle grin on his own face. Much closer in age to Yoongi than any of these other crabby old men, Kim (of the Southern Gardens) had treated Yoongi as an equal from the moment he’d stepped into power. The respect is mutual, and Yoongi has felt on more than one occasion that he’s only safe in these gatherings due to the presence of this unspoken ally.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. The air around him twists with energy in response to the physical contact, his aura shifting protectively. Wisps of black smoke peek into his peripheral vision as they swarm him, assessing the situation and deciding he’s in no danger before sinking back into his skin comfortably.

He has no cause for worry - he knows there’s only one person in this room that would ever dare to lay a hand on him, King Kim included. As welcoming as Kim may be, Yoongi’s well aware that he’s the odd man out - the black smoke that surrounds him like a cape is only one of many markers of his bloodline.

The hand on his shoulder squeezes once, pulling Yoongi back again. At the imperceptible nod of his head, it slides off of him, but its owner lingers close, a helicopter parent in his own way.

Taehyung can be a bit overbearing at times, but not once since they’ve met has Yoongi made a decision with anything less than full confidence. It’s only because of this that he lets Tae drag him to these damned meetings every season - he knows his advisor would never let him get away with hiding away in his castle like he wants to.

“The first item on the agenda is the economic state of affairs in the Southern Gardens-”

Kim cuts off the small herald at the front of the room with a tired sigh.

“As I have insisted to the Court on numerous occasions, there is no need to question my ability to manage the Five Nations’ economic needs - I’ve only been King for ten damn years.”

Yoongi snorts under his breath - it seems being human isn’t enough to save Kim from the suspicions of the older kings. It doesn’t matter that he’s singlehandedly lifted the economic prosperity of the Five Nations to heights they’d never seen before he’d come into power. Apparently, just being under the age of 50 is reason enough to distrust him.

“Well, with all your partying and grand monetary gestures, it’s not unreasonable to ask how reasonable you can really be with all of our money.”

Yoongi bites back the sigh this time - King Jung wasn’t really in the habit of staying quiet for this long, so he’d hoped that maybe the man had found some kind of inner peace since the last meeting.

Apparently not.

Of all the bothersome men Yoongi is forced to break bread with, Jung is quite possibly the worst of all. And while he’s seen cruel men - while he’s known, far too well, what a cruel king looks like - Jung might just be the cruelest he’d ever encountered.

From the moment Yoongi had taken the throne of the Eastern Seascapes, the Nexus had aligned itself as a direct enemy. The central-most kingdom of the Five Nations, the Nexus had been ruled by Jung Yunho since Yoongi was a kid. And he’d never heard a kind thing said about the man in his whole life. With reason, of course.

A political ally, constantly straddling the line between civility and warfare. The Ruling Court requires each of the Five Nations to remain allies for the sake of their reliance on one another. Each nation thrives in its own way, providing for the entire land in exchange for shared peace and resources.

Naturally, the Eastern Seascapes had always been a wild card. Its borders consist of forest-lined danger, feral demons hiding in its darkness while they wait for unprepared prey to wander into the treeline. And, while the East’s history is filled with attempted conquerings, it had become clear over time that only a demon - a strong one - would be capable of ruling over that land and keeping the danger from invading the other nations. The Min family had stepped in to do the job, an unyielding powerhouse of demonic energy - just the solution the Five Nations had been looking for.

And now, almost 100 years later, Yoongi’s stuck in this god-damned meeting, in the god-damned Nexus.

“By ‘partying and grand monetary gestures’, did you mean my wedding, King Jung? The one that you so willingly attended and enjoyed to its full capacity? Was it in any way different from the countless balls and festivals you feel so inclined to host at a moment’s notice?” Kim’s glare cuts across the table as he speaks, daring Jung to challenge him.

Yoongi’s eyes catch the huff that Jung lets out, and he’s relatively satisfied with the way that Kim had put him in his place. Another reason to like the guy.

Jung snaps his fingers once, his servant squeaking and fumbling with the scroll in his hands.

“U-Uhm… Ah yes, onto the next item of the agenda! The annual military drafting procession and traveling party to the Eastern Seascapes. King Min, if you will…” The servant gestures weakly in Yoongi’s general direction, never meeting his eyes. Most people can’t.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, unsure what to say. He says the same thing every year - that’s why it’s called an annual military drafting. It happens every fucking year.

“His Majesty has made the appropriate preparations and has no significant updates for the Court. The draft will depart from the Nexus in two days’ time and arrive in the Eastern Seascapes in just under a week - there are 12 recruits this year, each of whom will remain in the East for the mandatory 2 years before either returning to their respective kingdoms or extending their service in the East for another term.”

The voice that rings out above Yoongi’s head is deep and even, likely surprising a few of the kings’ own servants. It’s not common to bring an advisor on these trips, so it’s a very foreign concept to the men in this room that Yoongi would have someone with him who’s also capable of speaking for him.

It doesn’t help that Taehyung’s entirely unwavering when he addresses the Court. He leaves no room for question when he speaks, which is a trait that Yoongi both respects and at times despises.

He’s feeling pretty grateful for it right now, especially when Jung only glares and snaps again at his servant. Time to move on to a new item of conversation.

“N-now then, onto discussing King Min’s marriage candidacy…”

Yoongi changes his mind - he’s not feeling grateful anymore.

“I beg your pardon?”

His own voice is foreign to him, low and raspy from underuse. He’s perfectly happy with letting Taehyung handle his affairs, but he just couldn’t contain his surprise, a dark eyebrow lifting in agreement.

The herald’s visibly sweating now, nervous about the tendrils of black that are starting to snake around under the High Table. His voice cracks with anxiety as he elaborates.

“I-it has come to the attention o-of the Court that His Majesty has yet to take a wife… There are concerns about His Majesty’s ruling capabilities given his inability to find a suitable partner for producing an heir-“

Yoongi’s stopped listening, his annoyance spiking as his eyes flick over to Jung. The man is wearing a smug grin as he leans his elbows forward on the table and addresses Yoongi.

“It’s been five years since you’ve taken the throne, young man. It’s time for you to do your kingly duties and find a woman who will give you an heir and solidify your family’s continued alliance with the Nations.”

Yoongi only stares, eyes cold as he calculates the situation. Calculates the threat lingering in the man’s words.

“His Majesty need not take a wife in order to reassure the Court of his alliance to the Nations. Additionally, the lifespan of a demon is generally longer than that of a healthy human, meaning His Majesty should be in no rush to produce an heir-“

“I wasn’t talking to you, peasant.”

Taehyung blinks at the interruption, unfazed by Jung’s attitude. It’s relatively tame, given his temper.

“The Court, and just about anyone with eyes, knows exactly what caused the… untimely passing of this brat’s father.” Jung gestures rudely at Yoongi, who has yet to relocate his glare anywhere else. The man snarls, leaning in again. Yoongi wonders if the table will crack under his weight.

“Or should I say… we know who caused the previous king’s death.”

When Yoongi doesn’t react to the obvious provocation, Jung sighs, throwing himself roughly back into his chair. He’s a man who prides himself on inciting anger and fear in others - Yoongi’s happy to deprive him of that satisfaction.

“We all know you killed your own father in cold blood, boy. We let you take your stolen power and contribute to the peace of these lands, but now it’s been years and we have no way of knowing if you’ll revolt or stay loyal to us. Either you take a wife and produce an heir, or we take your negligence as an act of war-“

“My Lord, if you would have some patience - there’s no need to jump to declarations of war. King Min has shown no malice to the Court or to the people of the Five Nations in any of his time at this High Table. If anything, he’s treated his subjects with much more kindness than his father had ever shown, and he has kept the peace by continuing the military draft and culling the rising dangers of the East.”

Yoongi’s got to admit, he’d never been openly defended by anyone other than Taehyung before. It’s shocking to see Kim jump so readily to his defense. But he can’t say he doesn’t appreciate it. He knows if he’d made these points himself, the other kings would only see him as self-preserving and desperate to argue.

“King Jung has a point here, though. King Min is far too young and too unpredictable to be trusted - how do we know he won’t go rogue?” Lee speaks up from behind his fourth cup of mead, Park nodding along suspiciously. Yoongi feels himself growing exhausted.

“His Majesty is perfectly capable of ruling the East without the interference of the Court - has he demonstrated in the past any evidence of anarchy-“

“I am tired of hearing your voice, you insolent child!“ Jung slams a heavy hand down on the table in rage when Taehyung speaks. Yoongi can feel that they are all startled, but powerful men in a politically charged meeting are nothing more than performers on a stage. None of them reveals an ounce of emotion, not even when the herald starts to cry softly in his own fear.

Jung jabs a fat finger in Taehyung’s direction, disgust written all over his face.

“The Kings at this table will not be addressed by a mere servant such as yourself. Your presence in this room is nothing more than decoration - do you see any of these other men interrupting this conversation?!”

Taehyung’s eyes flit around the room at the servants hovering behind each of their respective kings. No, none of them are speaking - but none of them hold the title he does.

“Answer me, boy.”

Taehyung’s gaze flies once more to Jung, and he’s unable to stop the satisfaction that fills his eyes when he speaks.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, but your instructions were not very clear - I thought you were tired of hearing my voice.”

Yoongi lets his eyes close, sighing softly. Taehyung’s always had an issue holding his tongue.

There’s a cup flying across the room at his snarky response, a sticky arc of mead making its way through the air and onto the table with an unsatisfying splat. Taehyung only leans slightly to the left, the cup soaring past his ear and clattering to the floor behind him.

“You will not talk back to me in my own kingdom! You’re nothing more than scum under my boot- show your king some respect!”

Taehyung watches the sole ruler of the Nexus throw a literal temper tantrum, disappointed but unsurprised. He’s considering making another comment, mostly because he’d always found it fun to taunt the cruelest king in the land, but he finds that he doesn’t have time to say anything at all.

There’s a wall of black smoke flying into his vision, circling the space in front of him viciously. He can’t even see Yoongi anymore, his king disappearing instantly under the swirling cloud.

The air in the room whips around the High Table angrily, knocking over bottles of mead and yanking dangerously at the sheer curtains blocking the windows. The heavy double door doors to the Meeting Room, which had previously sat open, are slammed shut without warning. The men in the room all jump, performances forgotten in the wake of the Demon King.

Yoongi’s body emerges from the swirling globe of darkness, back arched as vines of black aura - his aura - support his weight and set him down. He seems entirely detached from the actions his body takes, gaze clouded and unaware. But he’s always in control.

The moment his feet touch the ground, the whirlwind of chaos in the room is suspended - the air stills, wisps of darkness lingering in the space around him for just a moment - and then it all comes rushing toward him at once. His body absorbs all evidence that his aura had ever been there, seemingly unburdened by the mass of energy flooding into his very soul. All that’s left are eyes that glow a deep, blood red, power humming from within his skin as his gaze locks on the one who’s shown him the deepest form of disrespect today.

Jung can only stare, jaw slack and bottom lip trembling just slightly. The High Table had never seen this display of barely contained power.

Not even from Yoongi’s father.

“Last I checked, My Lord, Kim Taehyung was not registered as a citizen of the Nexus. You should be more careful with your words, and you should certainly take care not to overstep where you are not welcome.”

Yoongi leans forward, planting his hands gingerly on the table. His eyes pass over the rest of the kings, bloody gaze shaking them to their core. He sees Kim brace himself for the eye contact ahead of time, and thinks to himself that it’s really a shame that they could probably never be friends.

It’s fine. They were never the same anyway.

“The Court would do well not to interfere with my personal life in the future. My ability to rule my country and keep peace with the Five Nations is mine and mine alone. A wife will not change this, and an heir will come when I decide to produce one. Until that day comes, I won’t hear of this conversation again.”

He rises, turning his back and heading for the door, but not before pausing for one last comment, his eyes dark and black once more as they make contact one by one with each of the remaining four kings.

“The military draft was designed by the kings of Nations’ past with the purpose of training soldiers for combat by throwing them into the worst possible human condition. The fact that the soldiers who actually make it out of my training alive would be capable of defending each of your kingdoms against man and demon alike is knowledge that’s invaluable to you.”

He hones in now on Jung, the threat clear in his words.

“So I sincerely advise you to think hard before starting a war with me.”

–

“You just love risking your life for a little drama, don’t you?”

Y/n jumps, turning over her shoulder in the direction of the voice. She normally would have noticed him coming down the corridor - his footsteps feel like second nature to her now - but she’d been too invested in what’s going on in the Meeting Room, just around the corner.

“You missed so much! Where have you been?”

Hoseok sighs, shaking his head fondly at her.

“I was hoping you’d stay out of trouble, but obviously you still need my help with that.”

She smiles, waving him toward her and returning to her place in the corridor. There’s a tingling in her fingers and toes, like they’re starting to go numb. It’s a familiar feeling, one that also sits deep in her stomach. It’s the only telltale sign she has to know that her Gift is activated.

That, and the fact that when she turns back to Hoseok, she can tell he hasn’t moved toward her. He hadn’t seen her beckon him to her, which means he can’t see her at all. Her Gift must be getting stronger if he’s starting to struggle seeing more than her presence sometimes.

“You plan on standing in the middle of the corridor like that until the Ruling Court meeting is over?”

Hoseok starts at the mention of the seasonal gathering, moving toward her voice. When he bumps into her, he lowers himself to her height, peeking around the corner with her.

“You know I look really stupid like this, right? If we get caught, it’s going to look like I’m just sneaking around by myself when I don’t have to.”

Y/n snorts under her breath as she tries to refocus her hearing toward the open doors of the Meeting Room.

“That makes one of us.”

Hoseok winces, choosing to ignore the comment in favor of eavesdropping.

“…ssing King Min’s marriage candidacy-”

“I beg your pardon?”

Both Y/n and Hoseok gasp and lean forward, not unlike a couple of gossiping schoolgirls.

“They want the Demon King to get married?!” Y/n manages to remember to whisper in her excitement, Hoseok letting out a breath of disbelief.

“May the Gods pity whatever poor girl has to marry that guy.”

Y/n turns to Hoseok’s voice, interest piqued.

“I mean, is he hot?”

He shoots her an incredulous glance.

“The Court wants to force some random girl to marry the literal king of demons and produce an heir with him, and you want to know if he’s hot?”

There’s a moment of silence, one where Y/n doesn’t say a word, and Hoseok has his answer. He sighs, nodding.

“… I’d say he’s an 8. Probably a 9 if he’d just learn to smile.”

Y/n grins widely, pleased with his response.

“Then I’m sure he’ll have no problem… reproducing.” She snickers when Hoseok shoves her, a noise of disgust leaving him.

He’s about to make a comment about how crude she is, but there’s a heavy slam of a hand on wood and the voice of Jung Yunho flowing out into the hall.

“I am tired of hearing your voice, you insolent child!”

They both jump, all too familiar with their father’s temper. It fills them with equal amounts of anxiety, and all Hoseok can do is reach for his sister’s hand, squeezing hard when he finds it.

“I hope he’s not talking to the Demon King like that - that dude could probably rip Father apart if he wanted to.” Y/n pauses after saying that, letting the idea sink in. “Hm. Maybe that’s for the best.”

Hoseok snorts, shaking his head at her commentary.

“Oh, how I wish that was a joke.”

Y/n turns to Hoseok, asking the question that’s been on her mind for weeks now - months, if she’s honest.

“Are you still going to join the draft?”

He doesn’t respond, the sound of his breathing even as he considers her question. She continues, suddenly feeling more anxious than before.

“Once Father realizes you’ve left without telling him… You’ll never know peace in this castle when you return, Hobi-”

“You say that like I’ve ever known peace to begin with. That man’s wanted me dead since the moment we were born.” His voice is tense, like this has been sitting in his mind for as long as he can remember. “The only thing I’m worried about is you. I feel like I’m the only person keeping him from-”

“If he wants to kill me, he’ll have to find me first.” Y/n nudges him gently, hoping to make him laugh. “I’ve been told I’m good at hiding.”

A bark of laughter leaves him, and he’s quick to cover his mouth with a hand. The sound warms her heart. She’s not sure what she’s going to do without him. She would never tell him, but once he’s gone… She’s not really sure what will happen to her-

The double doors to the Meeting Room slam shut suddenly, the force of it so intense that a gust of wind is sent down both ends of the corridor. Y/n can’t help the scream that leaves her, the tingling feeling leaving her body as her control over her Gift comes crashing down, leaving her visible and vulnerable.

Hoseok’s quick to rip his cloak off his shoulders and throw it over her, acting fast despite feeling just as startled. The feeling of warm fabric covering her head and obscuring her face brings Y/n to the realization that Hoseok can see her again, and she’s fast to fix it.

Willing her body to hide her from the world, she feels those pins and needles poking at her fingertips, spreading quickly to the rest of her body and swirling calmly in her tummy. When Hoseok slides the cloak off of her, she knows she’s safe.

“You need to get better reaction control over that - if someone sees you-”

“I know what will happen if someone sees me, Hobi - You tell me every day.”

Hoseok flinches at the hissed response, forcing himself not to overthink it. She’s not upset with him, she’s upset with the situation and frustrated that she got flustered and let her Gift come down-

At least, that’s what he’s been telling himself to avoid the guilt that gnaws at him every night. It’s gotten him this far.

After a moment of deep breaths, Y/n reaches for Hoseok, curling her fingers around his sleeve when she finds it, her small tug full of apology. He feels strangely comforted by the knowledge that they both think about their situation more than they’d ever admit.

“Let’s just go see what’s going on - I can’t hear through those doors.”

Hoseok hums in agreement, letting her lead him around the corner and toward the Meeting Room.

The corridor unfolds in front of her in billowing clouds, wisps of architecture coming to her senses until she can make out where everything is. Her map of a space isn’t always correct, but she’s lived in and snuck around these halls long enough to generally know who or what might be in her path. There’s no one here but them.

Hoseok’s noticing the same. There would normally be guards stationed out here, but they must have reacted to something going on inside, because he can feel that the two men are standing just past the entryway.

He and Y/n stand at the doors, ears close to the wood in order to hear past it. There’s a muffled voice traveling through large keyhole, and Y/n crouches to press her ear to it.

“…ning alive would be capable of defending each of your kingdoms against man and demon alike is invaluable to you.”

Y/n waves a hand behind her until she catches Hoseok’s leg, never moving from her place. He grumbles at the contact.

“You don’t have to smack me, I can hear them, too.”

“…think hard before starting a war with me.”

Y/n gasps, smacking Hoseok’s leg several more times. He simply lets it happen.

“Father’s threatening to start a war! With the Demon King!”

For a moment, Hoseok wonders if they really both are 24 years old, or if maybe he’s actually the older brother. Unfortunately, all he can boast about is a few measly minutes of authority over her-

There’s a harsh tug in the back of his brain, one that pulls his attention into the room and zeroes in on two pairs of shoes heading quietly toward the door.

He hisses under his breath, reaching down and grabbing Y/n by the shoulders. She makes a noise of discontent, but he’s already yanking her to her feet and pushing her forward and away from the door. She stumbles over to the wall and shrinks into the shadows there.

“Someone’s coming-”

The doors are pulled open by each of the guards, just in time for Hoseok to spin around and step away from the wall, fully aware that he needs to look like he hasn’t been hovering outside this whole time.

Min Yoongi is stepping out of the room and heading down the corridor, shoulders tense as a hooded man follows behind, whispering quietly to him. Hoseok watches as the king only shakes his head once, muttering “Your mouth is going to get you killed one day-”

And then the cloaked man is glancing over his shoulder, alerted to the fact that they’re not alone. Hoseok has no idea how he could have been noticed when he hasn’t made a sound.

The man stops short, turning fully toward Hoseok and lowering his hood. Hoseok sees then that he’s faced with Kim Taehyung, the king’s Royal Advisor.

Somehow, he’d have preferred meeting the eyes of the Demon King himself.

“Prince Jung, what a lovely surprise.”

Taehyung bows low, lowering his gaze in respect. Yoongi turns at the realization that Tae’s no longer behind him, and he sees that Jung’s only son is standing before him - the heir to the Nexus.

Yoongi steps up just as Tae is lifting from his bow.

“Prince Jung. I believe we’ve only met in passing.”

Hoseok feels the king’s gaze pierce right to his soul, a strand of fear running deep down his spine. It’s not the same kind of anxiety he feels around his father, but the blood red rubies embedded in the Demon King’s crown are reminding him of his own mortality in ways his father never has.

He bends at the waist, setting a foot behind him and a hand on his chest as he bows deeply, years of training in royal manners kickstarting to get him through this conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Y/n curtsying low as well, and he thinks briefly that maybe she doesn’t remember that she’s invisible.

But he would never say it to her - he would never take this moment of normalcy away from her. One where everyone knows who she is.

Princess Jung Y/n, the Second Heir to the Nexus.

“My Lord. It’s an honor to officially make your acquaintance.” Hoseok stands tall as he addresses the king, eyes nervous but unwavering from the shorter man. He refuses to crack, even with wisps of demon energy floating around the stone floor, searching for something - someone - to latch onto.

Yoongi’s impressed by the show of bravery.

“You’ll have to forgive me, my Lord-” Taehyung cuts easily through the tension, a charming smile tugging at his lips. His gaze is warm and light, running over the prince’s features kindly.

Hoseok has never felt more unsafe.

“- It seems I’ve put your father in a rather… sour mood. Hopefully, I haven’t ruined the day yet.”

Hoseok feels the smile stretch over his lips, polite but ingenuine.

“Oh, that yelling I heard on my way over? It’s of no concern, Sir Kim. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Friday morning.”

Taehyung’s left eyebrow quirks with interest, and Hoseok has to force himself to remain neutral. How the hell had this guy managed to pull a joke like that out of him?

Swallowing hard, Hoseok cuts his gaze back to the King, an otherwise silent observer of their interaction. But he finds that Yoongi’s not paying attention to their painfully awkward encounter.

His gaze is hardened with caution, eyes trained on a spot just over Hoseok’s shoulder.

It happens to be the same spot where Hoseok knows Y/n is standing, the warmth of her presence pressing into his back like a reminder of what he’d be leaving behind soon enough.

His heart thumps hard in his chest at the thought that Yoongi can see her, that lingering strand of fear tightening in a coil around his spine. He watches with growing horror as his own quickening pulse draws Yoongi’s attention back to him, the Demon King’s eyes flitting to the spot over Hoseok’s heart before moving up to meet his terrified gaze.

Yoongi’s expression evens out when he sees how he’s affecting the Crown Prince. He thought he’d seen a glimpse of something different about Jung Hoseok, something of interest. But he can see now that the prince is no different from anyone else.

Disappointing, to say the least.

“It was nice to officially meet you, Prince Jung. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other sometime in the future.” Yoongi doesn’t even bother with a goodbye, turning on his heel and starting back toward the room he and Taehyung had been assigned for their stay. He can hear his advisor making pleasantries before taking his own leave.

“What an honor to see you again, my Lord. The East looks forward to your arrival next week.”

Yoongi stops short at the end of the corridor, just as Taehyung’s quiet footsteps pick up their pace in his direction.

What the hell did he just say?

–

“Y/n, please promise me that you will stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Please.”

Y/n can feel her brother’s hands trembling against her skin as he grips her shoulders. She can’t tell if he’s more scared for her or for himself. She supposes it’s all the same.

“I promise, Hoseok. You won’t have to worry about me here, I swear it.” And she does, she does swear it. Because she doesn’t plan on staying here at all.

After eavesdropping on the council meeting two days ago, she’d been thinking quite hard about what she and her brother had discovered. That her father is threatening war if the Demon King doesn’t find a wife soon.

Maybe it’s not her best idea. But that’s exactly why she hasn’t said a word to Hoseok. He would have no qualms about tying her to the desk chair in her room if he knew what she was planning.

Hoseok breathes out a deep sigh, staring out the window in her room at the moon hanging low over them. There’s so much racing through his mind right now. How will his father react when he realizes Hoseok is gone? Will he send a troop for him, a public display of concern for his son? Or will it be a single assassin, the chance to finally dispose of his only son so tempting? Will he take it out on Y/n, like he’s done so often in the past? Should Hoseok even go anymore?

He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. But if joining the draft is the best way to guarantee he’d even survive another two years, and that he’d return to the Nexus with the battle training to finally take down his father… How could he pass up the opportunity?

Hoseok’s eyes trace out his sister’s features once more, the thought that he’d never see her again plaguing every drop of hope in his body right now. He feels like he needs to burn her into his memory… just in case-

“Hobi…”

His attention snaps to her eyes, unseeing yet so aware of him. So aware of every thought that crosses his mind, every feeling that fills his blood.

“Do you trust me?”

Hoseok flinches at the question - of course he trusts her. She’s the only person in the whole world that he trusts. But she’s not really asking if he can confide in her.

She’s asking if he believes in her.

If he’s honest… he’s never given either of them the chance to find out the answer to that question. He’d spent his whole life at her side, keeping her safe. This is the first time they’d ever be apart.

He hates himself for sheltering her like that. Hates that he’d never let him himself just trust her.

Hates that this is all coming into the light now, when they’re about to say goodbye for the first time in their lives. When they might never see each other again.

So he draws up every ounce of courage that he has - even more than it had taken for him to pick up a pen and sign his life away on that stupid Draft form - and breathes as much of the truth as he can into his response. Because he’s never been able to lie to her, and he’s not about to start now.

“I trust you.”

–

Y/n listens to Hoseok’s fading footsteps, maps them onto the image that she’s created of the corridor in front of her room. In this secluded corner of the palace, there’s no concern that anyone would catch them together. No one had ever bothered to come near her room, save for the servant designated to bring her meals.

She can see in those quiet footsteps that Hoseok is sticking to the shadows, a fugitive in his own home. He’ll escape from the castle walls, just before 4am, and join the draft’s traveling party as it’s preparing to leave. And then he’ll be free.

She doesn’t blame him - she could never blame him. Not when he scolds her for slipping out of her room, against their father’s direct orders. Not when he has to pretend she doesn’t exist in front of others, even when she’s hovering invisibly at his side.

Not when he’d hesitated just a moment ago to tell her he trusted her, because they both know that he’d been trying to convince himself that he does.

They’d both been dealt the shittiest of hands in life, and they were both trying to make the best of it. If the best of it is the simple goal of staying alive despite their father’s every intention, then so be it. If Hoseok needed to flee his own kingdom by moonlight in order to give himself a chance at that goal, then so be it.

But she’d be damned if the next he hears of her is through raven-sent news of her untimely death. He’s going to be impossibly angry with her when he discovers her plan - he might never forgive her. But once their father realizes he’s missing - that he’s defected to the Draft - she’d be even more unsafe than she’d ever been. She’d been dead within the week.

That’s why she lets that familiar pins-and-needles feeling envelop her body, why she kicks her shoes off into her room and closes the door softly behind her, bare feet padding gently after her brother before she loses his footsteps. Why she stops short but never gives in to the guilt crushing her heart when Hoseok pauses just outside the castle walls and turns back, likely confused as to why he can still feel her presence all the way out here. Why she tightens her muscles and wills herself to fade from his radar, only releasing the breath caught in her throat when she hears him start up again, making his way into the forest and through the trees until he reaches the clearing not too far ahead.

She almost loses him at one point. She’d never been this far outside the walls, and she has no idea what the landscape around her should look like. She can only use his footsteps to guide her, the quiet pulses of his energy leaking into the earth and bouncing off of nearby trees, illuminating her path in a quickly fading record of her brother’s every move.

Then the treeline relents, and she’s soon surrounded by open nothingness. Hoseok’s footsteps bounce off of nothing here, swallowed by the grass and removing him from her senses faster than she’s ready for. It’s only the distant chatter and shifting in front of her that tells her she’s made it to the clearing.

There are men loading resources and bags into a wagon, if she’s making the bulky shape out in front of her correctly. The echoes of the voices in the air bounce off of the white, tarped carriage, enough that she’s able to make its structure out with a decent degree of accuracy.

Now to figure out where to hide for the journey to the East…

She loses Hoseok, his voice melting into others around him as he joins the party. She takes a hesitant step forward, hears the horse driver calling out to the group that they’d better settle into the wagon in the next few moments, or he’d leave them behind.

How is she supposed to go unnoticed in a wagon full of people?

Thinking quickly, she makes a wide arc around the wagon, ears ringing as she listens for any movement in her immediate area. She counts the sets of feet climbing into the carriage as she moves quietly to the front.

10… 11… 12… and the driver-

The man is approaching the open front of the wagon on the other side, so she scuttles toward the passenger seat, satisfied that the drafted men are all seated in the back. She can even hear some of them awkwardly addressing her brother, can hear Hoseok laughing uncomfortably as he tells them to just treat him like any other man, that they’ll be together for 2 years and he has no interest in being treated like a prince.

She has to time this correctly - the wagon seems rickety, like any movement would be impossible not to notice. Her hands and feet are in pain, the tingling of her Gift stinging her every move. But she can’t give up now - she’s so close.

When she hears the driver lift a foot off the grass - the most miniscule of sounds under the deep chatter happening in the back - she raises her own, mirroring the man’s every move down to the moment he lifts his weight off of the ground and throws it carelessly into his well-worn seat. If he notices the counterbalancing of her own weight on the other side, he doesn’t pay it a bit of attention.

She’d made it.

–

“You better fucking hope Jung’s spawn doesn’t cause trouble in the next two years.” Yoongi’s low growl sounds foreign even to himself - being angry with Taehyung is new for him.

But he can’t help it. All week he’d been on edge, snapping at his advisor over the smallest things. He knows that Taehyung hadn’t technically done anything wrong by not giving him the roster for this year’s Draft cohort. He’d never done it in the past, and things had gone fine.

This year is different, though. Ever since the assembly and Jung’s thinly veiled threats, Yoongi had tightened security on his own kingdom, done a personal evaluation of all staff within his walls, and -

“You know, taking your anger out on me every time we meet hasn’t made for very productive planning sessions.”

-apparently let his rage overwhelm him any time his objectively innocent advisor had stepped foot in his throne room.

“You didn’t tell me Jung Hoseok was part of the Draft. Don’t you think that information would have been important to know, even before that stupid fucking assembly meeting?”

He can see Tae shrug noncommittally beside him.

“What I didn’t think was that you wouldn’t trust me to handle it, but I see we’re both learning new things about each other this week.”

Yoongi’s aura whips out angrily around him, coming dangerously close to his advisor’s face.

“Kim Taehyung, I swear to you-”

“Look alive, My Lord - they’re coming.”

Yoongi’s tempted to let his aura make contact this time, but he tucks Taehyung’s attitude into the back of his mind for later. He may not be the most pleasant of kings to pass through the Five Nations, but he’s not cruel, and he’s not violent. He’s not his father.

There’s a familiar wagon passing through the gates now, unharmed by the forest on its journey. Every year, on this exact date, Yoongi sends only his best to keep the demons in the forest under control for the time it takes to drop off the Draft. There hadn’t been a single year since he’d taken the throne that a trainee had been harmed or killed before entering the gates of his kingdom. Not that the same could be said for his father’s reign.

“Let’s call it… their first test. If they can’t make it to the gates alive, they’re not even worth training.”

Yoongi shakes his head quickly, squashing the nightmare of that malicious grin. Taehyung shifts protectively beside him, anyway - of course he’d noticed.

But although his advisor raises a hand, prepared to lay it on Yoongi’s shoulder and ease his king of his emotional burdens, Taehyung pauses. Lowers his arm. Stands tall and tucks his hands into his sleeves in front of him.

It almost makes Yoongi feel bad for building a wall between them this week.

Before he can think on it, though, Tae is nodding toward the wagon of trainees unloading their belongings to the cobblestone ground in the courtyard of the Eastern Seascapes. Yoongi watches them each turn slowly, taking in the castle in their own time. Watches their mixed expressions of fear and awe, none of them ever having glimpsed the palace lying deep in the forest and at the edge of the world. Watches as they each come to recognize the king and his advisor, statues waiting for them at the top of stairs.

One by one, they scramble forward toward Yoongi, stopping at the base of the steps and taking a knee, bowing to Yoongi almost obnoxiously. Taehyung mumbles in his ear the whole time, stating the names and families of each of these trainees. He stops talking when Jung Hoseok approaches and models after his new brothers-in-arms. There’s no introduction necessary for the son of Yoongi’s enemy.

After a nod of thanks toward the wagon driver - an older gentleman who’d seen far too much of Yoongi’s father’s “first test” and who is apparently therefore a big fan of Yoongi’s more humane approaches - Yoongi steps forward and takes a breath.

“Welcome to the Eastern Seascapes, trainees. In case one of you somehow missed the shocking news that traveled the Five Nations after my father’s death some years ago, my name is Min Yoongi. I am the ruler of this land, keeper of the peace between demon and humankind, and - probably unfortunately, in your eyes - your ward for the next 24 months. Congratulations.”

He watches as the 12 men in front of him shift uncomfortably below him, unsure what they should have expected from the Demon King. Most likely, it wasn’t the dry, detached man addressing them.

“Even more unfortunately for you, you won’t be dealing with me on a regular basis apart from tonight’s banquet. You will be seeing much more of my advisor here, and, even more than that - your General.”

The man in question materializes at Yoongi’s left side as if from nothingness. If he hadn’t known any better, Yoongi might have thought his Five-Star General was of demon blood. Somehow, it’s more disconcerting that he’s entirely human.

Normally, he’d feel a streak of pride course through him at the way his General had transformed into nothing short of a nightmare in just under 5 years, but he’s not really in the mood for Jungkook’s theatrics today.

The younger man descends the steps silently as the 12 men clamber to their feet in slight panic. He stands before the first trainee for just long enough that the newbie shrinks under his gaze. Jungkook moves quietly, his face never changing.

When he arrives at the end of the line, he stops, staring into the eyes of Jung Hoseok. The man, a few years his senior - as most of these men are - is just an inch or two shorter than him, but the Prince seems determined not to let the difference push him into submission. Hoseok stands tall, unwavering as he faces the Demon King’s General.

He’d endured 24 years of fear and anxiety. No one would ever bully him again. Especially not some brat who’s got a couple centimeters on him.

Jungkook sees it in his eyes - that resistance - and can’t help the twitch of a grin pulling at his lips.

This should be fun.

Before he can open his mouth and address them, though, his king’s voice is cutting through the cold morning air.

“Where’s the thirteenth trainee?”

Jungkook frowns, turning back to face Yoongi. Taehyung’s expression is no different, confused by the man’s question. But Yoongi’s not paying attention to either of them, his eyes raking in irritation over the 12 trainees. There’s a dangerous glint in his glare that sends a shiver down their spines.

“I was told there were only 12.” His voice is terse, and he looks at Taehyung for explanation, his annoyance growing when he sees that Tae has no clue what he’s talking about.

“There are only 12, My Lo-”

“Shut up.”

Both Tae and Jungkook blink in surprise - Yoongi’s never like this, regardless of his dour disposition this week.

The king’s head only tilts in the direction of the wagon, like he’s catching the sound of something over the thundering heartbeats of the trainees below him.

He moves silently down the steps, and Jungkook doesn’t even bother to snap at his new soldiers to stand tall as they literally trip over their own feet to get out of Yoongi’s way.

Yoongi stalks toward the wagon, catching the flash of fear in the driver’s eyes and waving him off with a furrow of his brow. There goes that previously built trust.

But it doesn’t matter. He can feel someone else here. It’s the same feeling he’d had just last week after the assembly, when he and Tae had been talking to Jung Hoseok.

The feeling that there’s someone hiding away, desperate not to be caught-

There.

He makes his way around the front of the carriage, ignoring the fearful whinny of the horses when they spot him, and stops in his tracks.

He can see it. That glimmer of energy, shifting in the air, so unnoticeable to anyone who isn’t looking. The longer he looks, the more the energy takes shape, forming into a girl he’d only seen once before.

The girl that had been hovering over Hoseok’s shoulder that day.

With a twitch of an eyebrow, Yoongi wills his aura to sink beneath his feet, muffling his footsteps into nothingness. The moment it does, the girl stands tall, tilting her head in his direction and turning when she can’t find him.

He approaches her like that, watching her turn in her spot, her movements becoming restless and fearful, like she’d lost track of him and couldn’t place him anymore. She even looks right at him, but she doesn’t pause, only turning away so she can inch forward toward the back of the wagon.

The moment she starts to pass the barrier of the white tarp into the open courtyard, Yoongi’s aura is lashing out, one dark tendril wrapping around her ankle.

The girl screams as she falls, her voice piercing the tense silence beyond the carriage and sending the men into a frenzy. But Yoongi doesn’t mind them, his eyes never leaving her.

Another arm of darkness snaps out toward her, wrapping tightly around her mouth as the original snakes its way up her body, constricting her in its grasp until she’d bound with no escape.

Her cloak - whatever it is - comes down then in her panic, and she’s fully visible to Yoongi for the first time. Her eyes are wide, full of terror, and she’s grasping desperately at the tentacle of his aura that’s all but gagging her. Yoongi doesn’t even bother to think about the fact that she still hasn’t looked at him, fixating on her features and noting with growing rage that she looks a lot like Jung Yunho’s only child.

What the fuck?

Yoongi draws the girl up off the ground and toward him, and, in his rage, throws her back against the tarp of the wagon. She lets out another muffled shriek, Yoongi’s voice cutting hers short.

“Who are you?! Who sent you?!”

She only shakes her head back and forth desperately, eyes screwed shut as she continues to scream. With a growl, he peels her away from the tarp and slams her back into it. There are tears streaming down her face now.

“I’m not going to ask you again-”

“My Lord.”

Taehyung is standing next to him now, having come around the back of the carriage to interfere in whatever’s happening. His voice is clipped, like he’s actually angry with Yoongi.

“True to my title, I’m going to have to advise you to put this poor woman down, unless you want your new subjects to form misinformed opinions about what kind of man you are.”

Yoongi only snaps his head over to his advisor, his glare burning that deep, blood red Taehyung’s grown used to seeing lately.

“I want you to look at this girl, Taehyung. Look at her, and tell me what you see.”

Only at the direct order does Taehyung sigh and tilt his gaze in the woman’s direction. He stares for a moment, taking in her tear-streaked face. And then he frowns, his brows coming together as he looks more closely at her.

Taking just a step back so he can see into the courtyard full of terrified trainees, Tae meets the eyes of Jung Hoseok, whose gaze morphs from fear into alarm when he realizes he’s being studied.

Taehyung mumbles under his breath then, Yoongi barely catching the words.

“Well would you look at that… Twins.”

Ignoring Yoongi’s echoed “Twins?!” of shock, Tae knows Hoseok was able to read his lips all the way across the courtyard because the Prince’s eyes go wide with horror, the blood draining from his face. His crippling fear crashes into Taehyung’s senses full force, the advisor stitching this new piece of information into the cloth that is the Jung family.

He only squints at the man in response, whispering a single word to Yoongi that’s really meant for Hoseok.

“Twins.”

Tae watches Hoseok carefully as Yoongi steps out from behind the carriage, the aura-bound prisoner floating in the air behind the king as he starts his rampage back to the castle. He’s wholly unsurprised when Hoseok lurches forward at the sight of the girl, a scream ripping from his throat.

“No!”

Hoseok pushes past the other trainees and starts to charge the king, but he’s quickly overtaken by Jungkook, who throws himself forward and pins him easily to the ground, yanking the Prince’s arms back behind his back. It doesn’t stop Hoseok from screaming with all of his might, his throat aching at the force.

“Y/n! You promised me! You promised me you would be safe-”

The other trainees all start whispering to each other, staring at the girl as she’s carried, sobbing and struggling against the tendrils of darkness, past her brother. Yoongi only pauses over Hoseok’s detained form for a brief moment, not even sparing the crazed man a glance as he speaks.

“Welcome to the Eastern Seascapes, Prince Jung. I’ll see to it that your sister is well cared for.”

Hoseok can only watch, horrified, as the Demon King carries his entire life through the massive double doors and into the castle.

I’m never going to see her again.

#control #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts au #bts demon au #bts royal au

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