#Imagine falling in love with your assigned guardian angel

[sxilor-1010]

I never realized how fucking Egon coded the song Valentine is, like I practically have an animatic playing in my head with him & Selena (My GB OC)— 💚💜

[astraystayyh]

The prophecy- I.

ꕥ summary: when an angel becomes enthralled by the prospect of emotions, he falls into your world hoping you’d teach him how to be human. little does he know, there's no safety net awaiting him below.

ꕥ pairing: fallen angel!yongbok x fem human!reader.

ꕥ genre: slow burn. heavy themes relating to the complexity of emotions (insecurities, grief, nostalgia, love and sacrifice). angst. comfort. hope and healing. the members are included in the fic as well.

ꕥ warnings: plot installment. mention of alcohol and drinking, description of scars, self-loathing thoughts.

ꕥ word count: 17.8k.

Next. Series Masterlist.

authors note: this fic is my absolute baby. it is heavily inspired by Black Friday by Tom Odell, or rather my interpretation of its lyrics. angel felix is so so special to me, i got the opportunity to be very vulnerable while writing, so i hope you enjoy reading this first part as much as i enjoyed writing it. feedback is highly appreciated <3 this is for @forlix my angel who birthed this fic with me, and for @catboyanon for being my icon 💞 i love you guys 🫶🏻 thank you for reading!!!!!!

the series taglist is open! comment or send me an ask if you wish to be added— @linosssss @agi-ppangx @hwangism143 @httpdwaekki @booksndpoetry @courtnort455 @tonystenk @felixsbakingbud @oyinii @seungzsmin @kayleefriedchicken @freyjhasdesiredreality @babrieeee @nyasstars @lovefool-lix @velvetmoonlght @hash2013 @caticorn61 @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @minhosbitterriver @dorisnumber1fan @goldenmellow @juskz @chanshyunjin @aslou @hhwangsmoon @shinygubbins @msaddictions @abcdefgiwannasendmycodetou @realrintaro @theuntoldlullaby

Act 1. Everything comes with a price.

“So for once in my life, let me get what I want, Lord knows it would be the first time”- Please, please, please, let me get what I want, The Smiths.

Yongbok's existence has been a steady current of nothingness. 

He has known no low, yet simultaneously, no high. Has never stood at the edge of the world nor cradled it within his palm. He is a straight line, knowing no bumps on its road, crafted to stretch forward, and then some more, indefinitely. 

That is until you were assigned to him— his human to keep safe, to protect.

That is when Yongbok then realized that, all along, he had felt nothing— that there was a void overtaking his being, an absence of something, rather than what he had always known to be the norm. 

Yongbok knew the rules, he knew what his existence entailed— that it was one entwined with yours, that once you’d both turn eighteen he’d sense it when you were in danger, each time you were in physical pain. So, he’d protect you, hover above you like a halo, keep you out of harm's way.

He also knew that it would happen unexpectedly. His one friend Seungmin described it as a minor nuisance, a thorn that needs to be plucked out, a bad weed that has overgrown. “You'll help your human and it’ll be back to normal.” 

Yet, for Yongbok it wasn't merely a lone thorn, nor a solitary weed, but rather, a myriad of nuisances falling upon him at once— akin to a deluge of rain pouring as soon as the sky’s gates part. A throbbing so intense it made him falter in his strides, made his golden wings envelop him, as if to cage this unfamiliar feeling, to stop it from seeping from his body and soiling the azure skies. 

It was the first time you had called out to him, it was the first time he would see you in. He imagined you’d be in agonizing pain, skirting the edges of death on a final dance with the devils. But, you were on your bed, curled around yourself the way his wings enfolded his body. Sobs rippled from you, an undulating cascade of waves that almost drowned you in sorrow. 

You weren’t in danger. You weren’t in physical pain. So why was he here? 

Why had he felt it when you simply cried? 

Yongbok hovered near your door, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t in the rules he had learned— guardian angels do not deal with emotions, they do not feel the woes of the heart. “Humans are always hurt. Their heart bruises more than their body would ever endure. It is something we cannot control, nor can we help them with it”— those were the words of Christopher, the sovereign of all guardian angels, ones tattooed in the back of Yongbok’s mind.

“They do not affect us,” he had asserted, his voice maintaining its customary tranquility.

So why was Yongbok feeling the bruising of your heart?

He pondered for a fleeting moment before making a soft breeze ripple through your hair. You looked up from your bed, eyes cast outside the window, as a sunbeam delicately landed on your face. To his surprise, that seemed to halt your tears.  

In that instant, the weight on Yongbok’s heart suddenly dissipated, like a morning fog chased away by the sun. 

“So, this isn’t normal?” he asked Seungmin upon his return, who blinked at him once, then twice. 

“No. It must be part of your anomaly.” 

His anomaly, what explains Seungmin being his only friend. But his loneliness did not bother him, the perk of never feeling.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Yongbok sighed, circling the rim of his glass with his pointer finger. “Should I tell… you know.”

“Keep it to yourself.” Seungmin’s voice was stern, biting, leaving no room for Yongbok to object. 

So he did not. 

He kept it to himself, for the past five years, a diligent secret he’s gotten better at hiding. You were surprisingly a good human to guard, you never burned yourself, crossed the road while looking at both sides, and did not frequent shady places at 4 a.m. 

But your heart weighed so much on your soul.

You cried an average of one hundred and sixty-five times per year, sixty of which being heart-wrenching sobs that almost paralyzed him, made the feathers of his wings wither down and scatter on the ground like sakura petals. 

“Is it normal for her to cry this much?” he had asked Seungmin who had simply shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I don’t befriend humans.” he sighed before adding. “Why does she cry?”

“Other people hurt her.” 

“Then she’s stupid for repeating the same process.”

“Isn’t it fascinating, though? She knows the outcome might be the same, and yet–”

“Do you wish to befriend her?” Seungmin had cut him off, eyes narrowing down slightly. There was a hint of warning in his tone, a danger ringing somewhere near. You know where this path will lead you. 

“No,” he replied quickly. He never brought you up again after that. 

But his fascination with you did not die. Though, it wasn’t you, per se, that intrigued him. More so what you were feeling, every emotion that ran freely through your being. It was as if he perched on the precipice of your soul, drinking the droplets of emotions that escaped your being. Feeling through you, an extension of your very existence.

It wasn’t only the throbbing when you hurt, it was also a satisfaction when he made you smile again. Through a sunbeam falling perfectly atop you, a rainbow appearing above your head, a star shining more brightly as your eyes found it. Each time your heart bled dry and you begged for a sign, he was there, conjuring up one of you, smiling as you smiled, inching closer to you as the months went by. 

What if the sign was him? What if he showed you he was there all along? 

Would you smile at him too? 

These were dangerous questions swirling in his head, translating into even more harmful actions. Like getting closer to trespassing the line between your world and his, drawn by that fascination, that thirst to know more, to feel more. 

To talk to you. 

But it was all but wishful thinking, it is all thoughts he buried within himself, his body becoming the graveyard of his life— through which he breathes and through which he dies. 

Until tonight.

Yongbok felt that same familiar throbbing overtaking his being, only this one was much more intense, so much so he couldn’t hide the discomfort on his face, twisted in agony at the pain overriding you. He expected to find the telltales of your sadness draped on your being— teary eyes and shaky hands, pouting lips and the scrunch of your eyebrows that he’s come to memorize. 

But to his surprise, he finds you perched upon an abandoned rooftop overlooking Han River, the moon casting its shimmering reflection above its surface. You weren’t frowning, nor blinking rapidly to dispel your tears. Instead, you sat there, gazing at the river below, legs dangling over the edge, your face as placid as the water before you. However, the burden on your heart was unmistakable, a weight he recognized because he, too, bore it. 

He stops for a second, making a gentle rain graze your skin, light enough to feel like an embrace rather than a nuisance. He knew you loved these light showers as you always chased them, tilting your head to the sky as if thanking it for allowing the rain to visit, even for a fleeting moment. 

But this time, you remain unmoving, eyes still fixated on the water, as if you wished it would rise from its place and carry you with it underneath.

You look like an angel, for you feel nothing, numbness seizing your being and trapping it into its hold, just as it does for him. 

“Sometimes the human’s enemy is itself. They inflict harm upon their souls the most, sometimes even death.” He remembers the somber sayings of Christopher and then the question Jeongin asked, echoing the concerns that gripped everyone’s thoughts.

“Can we still save them from themselves?” 

“Not always. We can be too late.” 

You inch closer to the edge of the building, and Yongbok wonders if you had felt too much there was no other emotion your heart could pump out for you anymore, no life for it to breathe in you. 

Can humanity disintegrate once it pains you too much? Can you turn it off in a desperate bid for survival? Would it still be a life if you do not feel in it? 

“I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your cold voice startles him, and he looks around quizzically, wondering who you are talking to. But it is only the both of you atop the roof, and his wings are gone, the golden light that usually contours his being subdued. 

The realization dawns upon him – you can see him, and you are speaking to him. Yongbok feels the stirrings of his heart, a singular beat that resounds in his chest for the very first time.

“I’m not worried,” he replies, after painstakingly long seconds. His voice sounds different, deeper as it floods his ears. I can’t worry, he decides against adding. “Besides,” he clears his throat, walking over to you, his hands resting on the railing. “You can’t die from here. You’ll just break your bones. Get paralyzed, at most.” 

“What are you? A death connoisseur?” you snort, a small life seeping through your voice again as you finally look at him. 

“Something of the sort.”

“This makes you sound like a serial killer,” you sigh, a heavy breath pulled from the depths of his heart. “But you don’t look like one.”

“I don’t?” he questions. 

“No. You look kind.” 

Kind. Yongbok has been draped in a myriad of adjectives since his creation, ones that hang above him like a somber cloud, imprinted on his skin with ink visible to everyone but himself. ‘Abomination’ was the one that came back the most. But you described him as kind. 

What do you see in me? He wants to ask. Tell me so I can look for it when I see myself.

He’s acutely aware that he’s breaking the rules, his wings itching to fledge out and carry him away. But he forcefully keeps them at bay. Not now. Just a little more.

“Are you looking for hope too?” you ask, your voice much quieter than when you last spoke. Yongbok now sees it— the numbness wearing off and leaving place to an agonizing sadness, its essence is poured in your eyes alone, dull under the marvelous city lights. 

“Hope?” he echoes, the word tasting foreign in his mouth. 

“Mm,” you hum, drawing one knee to your chest while letting the other dangle, straddling an invisible line between your two worlds. “I come here and imagine as if the moon shines only for me.”

“That's not true.”

“I know,” you giggle quietly, your laugh swiftly morphing into a pout. “Most of the time it feels as if it’s shining for everyone but me.”

“I don’t think the moon cares enough to single you out.”

“That's somewhat comforting to hear.”

Running a hand through your hair, you speak again. “I don’t usually talk to strangers,” you confess, lifting the nearly empty soju bottle in your left hand. “I’m just a bit drunk, and really sad,” you whisper, as if entrusting him with a secret, an admission that the universe can be cruel in the fates it deals out. He knows that more than most.

“I don't mind,” he inches closer to you, his curious eyes casting over your gloomy figure. “So, you come here looking for hope?”

“It's a bit silly, right?” you smile sheepishly, and he shakes his head. 

“Silly, no. It’s just unrealistic to look for something that is not tangible.”

“Everything that is good in life cannot be grasped with our hands.”

He knows nothing of all these good things you speak of, so he remains silent.

“You know what’s funny? Each time I ask for a sign I find it.”

Each time you call out for him he is there. 

“Is that so?” 

You take a big gulp from your drink, setting it down as your tone grows melancholic with each word. “Yeah. I think I've seen more butterflies in the past five years than the average person does in a lifetime.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” he asks tentatively, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. What if, all along, in his attempts to pull you up he has only been drowning you further? 

“It is. It makes me believe that things will turn out better, in the end,” you share, pausing briefly as if attempting to contain your words. It’s only a moment later that you continue, “I guess I'm just tired of believing things will get better instead of feeling better.”

He was a temporary patch-up, a band-aid made of silk threads destined to wear off with time. Guardian angels cannot help with the woes of the heart. For all their immortality, they fall short before the power of emotions, kneel in surrender at the altar of humanity. 

But on your darkest night— your black Friday where the sky resembles an abyss in which every star has fizzled out, he does not want to leave you without hope. 

“Maybe you just need better signs,” he whispers, as a hoard of butterflies swivels before your eyes, a kaleidoscope of colorful wings fluttering in the hopes of breathing life into you once again. 

“Butterflies don’t show up at night…” you marvel in hushed tones, your eyes darting everywhere to take in the magical scenery. 

“Did you do this?” you’re breathless as you turn to ask but no one’s near anymore. 

The heaviness in your heart has dissolved, not entirely, but enough for Yongbok to dismiss it as a fleeting nuisance, a stubborn weed, a lone thorn that he deftly plucked away.

…

Yongbok has not stopped thinking of your conversation, the steadiness in your voice as you spoke of hope, of good things that elude your gaze but infuse your existence with sweetness. He knew that he broke the rules by speaking to you, that there are but severe cases in which an angel is allowed to address their human. Sadness, no matter how profound, was not one of them. And yet, for all the years he spent abiding by the rules, he had not regretted talking to you, not once. 

He had memorized the cadence of your voice, the sheer glaze in your eyes as they held his, the way you drowned yourself in alcohol, nose scrunching at its bitter taste. Everything about you, he learned, committing it to his memory that was once a blank canvas, for he had never lived something worth remembering, for he had never strayed from the straight path, drawn out eons ago for him. 

Until you. 

It is the following Friday and Yongbok hovers near a bar, his eyes absorbing the sight of the drunk humans mingling in there. Some of them are laughing, clinking half-empty glasses as they cheer loudly, Others, too busy pressing their lips against one another to dare dream of forgetting this moment. And then some sitting alone, their gaze fixated on the liquid within their glass, as if it holds the key to all their unanswered prayers. Foolish behavior, but he is drawn to the mundanity of it, for some odd reason. 

He draws in a deep breath, before concealing his celestial wings and venturing into the dimly lit bar. He sits by a stool, curiously eyeing the array of alcohol on display. “What can I get you?” the bartender asks and he responds with a nonchalant shrug. “Strongest thing you have.” After all, inebriation is an experience beyond his grasp.

The abrupt sound of glass meeting the counter startles him, and he turns to his left. There, he discovers a young man, roughly his age, signaling the bartender for another pour. Ebony hair pulled into a small ponytail, a furrowed brow shaping his lips into a frown, the man’s gaze remains fixed on the scattered droplets of Whiskey across the counter. In the faint light, Yongbok spots a mole by his jaw, then another one underneath his eye. 

“Bad night?” Yongbok inquires, clearing his throat, a thrill coursing through him at the prospect of talking with another human.

“Kinda,” the stranger sighs, turning around to face him. “I’m Hyunjin,” he says, extending his hand with a lopsided smile.

He firmly shakes it, before introducing himself back, “Yongbok.” 

“Yongbok, mm… Feelbok,” Hyunjin slurs, “no, no, Hanbok,”— happiness— Hyunjin giggles at his own words punctuating them with a thumbs-up. “Nice name.”

“Thank you,” Yongbok mirrors his smile, although the gesture happens more naturally than he expected. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, as he watches Hyunjin down yet another glass.

“I should be,” he mumbles, before placing his chin atop his palm, gaze lost somewhere far in the depths of his mind.

Yongbok remains silent as Hyunjin blinks slowly, a sad smile imprinted into his mouth. “I opened my art gallery today. It was acclaimed by all the art critics who visited. They said it was moving, woven with emotions that are translated into every choice I made, from the colors to the blending to the lighting.”

Yongbok frowns, a sudden confusion settling over him as he detects the sorrow dripping from Hyunjin’s tone. He realizes that his expression mirrors the same loneliness he witnessed in you countless times before. Humans, it seems, resemble each other at their most vulnerable.

“But…” he continues, prompted by Yongbok’s silence or the strong alcohol, he doesn’t really know. “All these people came but not the one I painted for.”

Ah, Yongbok now understands what drives Hyunjin’s sadness— love. The irony of humans strikes him; for the one feeling they crave ends up hurting them the most.

“Every painting was about her and she wasn’t there to see it,” Hyunjin confesses as anguished tears suddenly well in his eyes. He cannot conjure hope for Hyunjin, for he is not his human to guard, so Yongbok mimics what he witnessed you do countless times to your friends. He places a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“It will pass,” Yongbok reassures, not with a misplaced sense of optimism, but because it is an undeniable truth. Humans forget as much as they remember, grieve as much as they love, heal as much as they hurt. In their short life, everything they go through passes. It is how they survive the hurts of the heart.

“I don’t want it to. If the pain passes then I won’t have anything to remember her by,” Hyunjin smiles sadly, patting Yongbok’s hand above his own. 

“Don’t you regret loving her?” he asks, perplexed by the breathing contradiction before him. 

“I regret losing her, not loving her. Never loving her.” 

As he stood on the same rooftop you were on nights ago, Yongbok is left with Hyunjin’s sleek business card held between his fingers, and a dull longing in his heart, many, many hours later.

Can a straight line stray from its path? Can his void be replaced with love? 

At what cost can an angel taste humanity? 

“Our kind yongbok.” A calm voice speaks and the wings on Yongbok’s back twitch more intensely than they’ve ever done. The danger Seungmin spoke of was here.

At what cost could he not? 

“Christopher,” Yongbok bows in respect, eyes refusing to meet those of his senior. 

“You had no problem looking at all these humans, no?” Christopher muses and Yongbok takes one step back. Chris knows, he has always known and yet he allowed it. 

Why?

“Fascinating creatures, right? I still fail to understand them. But what I do know for certain is that they are weak,” he pauses, Yongbok’s breath hitches in his throat. “Just like you.” 

Yongbok’s nails dig forcefully into his palms, it does not soothe his nerves the way it does to you. 

“But see, the difference between you and them is that they were crafted to be weak. Then again… everything about you is abnormal, you agree?” Chris speaks assuredly, his tongue telling facts alone. Yongbok remains silent, anticipating his punishment for trespassing into the human realm, for breaking the sacred rule of interacting with them.

Tales of chained angels, of those stripped of their wings, their bloodied feathers plucked out one by one haunt his thoughts. This is the closest Yongbok has gotten to fear. 

In a blink, Chris materializes before him, his hand resting on Yongbok’s shoulder, reminiscent of the comforting gesture he extended to Hyunjin. However, this hold is not reassuring; it bears a weight that spells danger with every squeeze. 

“Do you want to feel what humans do? Go, Yongbok, I won’t punish you. Roam with them, talk to them, and feel.”

Yongbok’s wings scatter with the wind, feathers falling like a curtain of white upon their heads. He falls to his knees, hand brought up to his chest as he suddenly senses everything surrounding him— the bitter wind brushing against his skin and the rush of hot blood coursing within his veins, the loud ringing of cars that morph into hands choking him, and worse of all, the loss of his wings that his spine seems to be weeping for. 

“But remember, everything comes with a price,” Christopher’s polished shoes come into his view— Yongbok does not recognize the distorted reflection staring back. “Even weakness.” 

Act two. The heart weighs heavily on those who bear it.

“If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy” - Neptune, Sleeping At Last.

Delicate snowflakes descend upon the earth, intricate crystals forming a pristine blanket that veils the ground, concealing its flaws to the naked eye. The snow doesn’t discriminate, it falls atop every building in Seoul, from towering skyscrapers adorned with luminous billboards to the humblest abodes, nestled in concealed alleys, all bathed in a bluish glow at the heights of the night. 

And in its fall, the snow does not leave Yongbok’s body behind, draping it in a cloak of icy tendrils, ones that seep through bones he did not know were capable of aching before. It mingles with his golden feathers, scattered all over the rooftop, tinged with his spilled blood. The crimson liquid oozes from his back to the ground, and in his first seconds as a human, Yongbok has already tainted the purity of the soil, he is already a nuisance, in this world too.

He is faintly aware of warm hands cradling his cheeks, attempting to infuse life into his pallid face. A kaleidoscope of blurry hues obscures his vision, and he is no longer sure how much time has passed since Christopher abandoned him on the unforgiven ground. It could have been mere minutes or lengthy hours— he is yet to be acquainted with how time passes on humans. 

He also cannot recall you coming into the rooftop, does not remember when you pulled his head onto your lap, nor began combing your fingers soothingly through his golden locks. You are worried, he can still feel the pulsing of your heartbeat ringing in his ears, or maybe it is his own, he still cannot distinguish what is yours and what is his. 

He’s in a haze, standing on the edge of a window, assaulted by biting winds that cut through him. He didn’t expect humanity to crash onto him this hard, for it to force oxygen onto his lungs only to set them ablaze. 

“You’re awake, you’re okay.” Your reassuring words break through the disorienting daze, your hand firmly clasping his, guiding him away from the window’s edge, ushering him back into safety. In the familiarity of your voice, the winds relent, morphing into gentle zephyrs that cool the burning storm within him. He can feel the softness of your hand, your thumb swirling around his palm as if drawing out a soothing spell with your touch. 

“H… hurts,” he stammers, the words escaping between breaths that struggle to find passage. He brings your palm atop his heart, where a myriad of stones seem to have found refuge, crushing his lungs and rendering them a cloud of useless dust, scattered away by the wind. 

“It’s okay. You’re having a panic attack. It’s okay,” your voice is calm, though it speaks of frightening things. Would what he felt pass now that you put a name to it? Was it supposed to reassure him to hear that panic, like an uninvited intruder, has seized his being and is attacking it relentlessly? A secret ambush, a Trojan horse infiltrating his body under the guise of humanity. 

“Help me,” his plea echoes weakly, an awkward sound that clashes with the very air particles, imprinting itself onto the oxygen you inhale. Is this what Christopher meant? Were his weaknesses only going to surge forth more now? 

Is the cost of humanity facing the ugliness within you? 

The questions swirl in his head like a relentless tornado, drowning out your voice until it becomes a distant murmur in the backburner of his mind. His body rebels against him, ears amplifying the cacophony of his breaths, shaky hands refusing to be still, lungs constricting to the point of near collapse. He’s back before the window, dangling over its edge with one silky thread, worn out from the countless humans who had clung to it in desperation before.

His hand slips. You seize it before he falls.

“Breathe with me, focus on my voice,” you come to him like a calming tide, pulling him into safe shores. You’re so close your nose almost brushes with his own, your hands enveloping his icy fingers to anchor him back to you. He tries to mimic your slow inhales, tuning out all his tumultuous thoughts to focus solely on you.

Under the starry sky and the unyielding snow, and through the panic that captures his being, his gaze seems to fixate on the most mundane of things— the soft moonlight filtering through the strands of your hair, casting a faint halo around your figure. As you draw in deep breaths, encouraging him to follow suit, the thought crosses his mind – perhaps, you are his guardian angel now.

Time passes in this shared rhythm until, finally, you release his face, falling beside him on the snow. His breaths find a more regular cadence, mirroring yours, yet an ache persists in his chest, as if unseen hands continue to press down on his heart, squeezing it dry of its blood.

You run a hand through your face tiredly, eyes looking up at the expanse before you. “Fuck, I thought you were dying.” 

An apology lingers at the tip of his tongue, vocal cords itching to free the three syllables into the chilly air. But Yongbok has never apologized before, he doesn’t know how the words might crystallize in the cold. He isn’t sure he could bear witnessing their form now. 

“What happened?” he ventures, his voice small and fragile, his face turning slightly toward you. You appear like a crescent moon, soft and gentle even with only half of your face visible to him. 

“I came to the rooftop and I found you on the ground, surrounded by bloodied feathers and shaking from the cold,” you begin to explain only to freeze as if a crucial detail has just resurfaced in your memory. He knows what you’ll ask about before you speak. 

“What are these feathers?” your inquiry hangs in the air, your gaze still directed ahead. He remains silent, unsure of how to explain the inexplicable.  

“Who are you?” you press, and his reply comes in a single word, uttered vulnerably, “Yongbok.”

Please leave it at that. 

Your voice is softer, more resigned when you speak again.  “What are you?” 

He does not need to voice the truth. He could chuckle and say that he’s human, what else do you expect him to be, and his voice might shake from the unrehearsed lie but you would believe him, and then he’ll make sure your paths would never cross again. 

But a small part of him feels as if he does owe the truth to you. Because you cared for his well-being when you did not need to, gave up some of your warmth to infuse his being with it, sacrificed minutes of your time to make sure he’ll have sand left in his hourglass. 

So, he sucks in a deep breath, gathering the courage to unravel the truth. 

“I’m an angel. Your guardian angel. Or maybe was. I still don’t really know, yet.”

An incredulous laugh escapes your lips, gusts of powdery air materializing before him. “An angel?”

“Yes.”

“This is insane,”  you shake your head, your face buried in the same palms that had cradled his cheeks tenderly moments ago— his sail amidst the winds. 

“Is that how you managed to make all those butterflies appear that night?” you question, and he nods, shutting his eyes and releasing a strained exhale.

“So you’ve been guarding me all this time?” 

“Since you turned eighteen.”

He freezes as he wonders what you’ll say next— maybe you’ll ask him to disappear from your life, not one to wish to mingle with angels and their kindred, maybe you’ll leave him be in the snow, lonely as he has always been.

What he doesn’t expect is for your eyes to find his, compassion swimming in your gleaming irises, your voice dripping with concern as you ask him. “What happened to you, Yongbok?” 

There was no way for you to feel what he did, and yet you spoke as if you could— as if you peered into his heart and discovered it butchered and bruised, found thorns entangled around his veins instead of vines. 

“I don’t know,” he chokes out a sob, as sudden tears stream down his cheeks, salty as they infiltrate his mouth, drowning him from within. The tears refuse to cease even after he wipes them, one after the other, a futile gesture akin to pouring water into sand, an attempt to nurture something not meant to grow.

“It’s okay,” you smile, your eyes shimmering like a million fireflies in the night. He shakes his head, as more tears escape him in the guise of words. In all of the times he has seen you cry, he never fathomed he would have sobs racking his body, too. That tears would cascade like an unyielding waterfall, an earthquake shaking the planes of his body, rattling his bones with an intensity beyond what he believed humans could endure.

“It’s okay,” you repeat, cradling his face against the warmth of your neck, his tears seeping through your clothing. He is weeping, though he does not know what for. For nothing yet everything. For the loss of his wings and the birth of his heart. For the harshness of the ground and the softness of your hold. For the Yongbok who perished and the one who came to life. 

…

A fallen angel comes in various forms, some are entirely disgraced while others retain fragments of their celestial countenance. Yongbok, though deprived of his wings, did not lose his powers. He realized this when he instinctively healed the wounds on his back, the torn skin scarring in fleeting seconds. A small mercy bestowed upon him by Christopher, or so it seemed.

He will understand the reasons behind this act much later.

But for now, in his first breaths of humanity, when the echoes of his sobs have at last withdrawn from his being, leaving behind a lingering weariness, he is dealing with less stellar facets of his existence— the more mundane technicalities of it. 

“So, not to rub salt on the wound but I assume you also don’t have a place to stay in,” you ponder, waiting until he regains enough composure to grasp your words, ensuring they wouldn't float beyond his reach.

“No, I didn’t exactly prepare for this,” he winces, his gaze briefly meeting the scattered feathers on the ground. But not for too long, looking at them invited a grand sense of loss into his being, a sentiment too weighty for his fragile state to harbor. 

“You can stay at mine, and tomorrow we can start looking for a house for you?” you suggest, stretching out your tired limbs.

“You don’t… You don’t need to help me.”

Yongbok does need your help, you are the only human he knows and he is unfamiliar with how your kind acquire housing. And yet he finds himself at the crossroads between what his heart wants and what his tongue speaks of— ready to vehemently refuse your proposal to not inconvenience you, as if he’s a towering mountain poised to shoulder burdens when in reality, his being has never been this frail.

“You guarded me for five years,” you smile softly, effortlessly dispelling away his concerns like meaningless specks of dust. “It’s the least I could do.”

Stepping into your home was as familiar as walking into his own. He, unwittingly, memorized each nook and cranny of your place, a consequence of all the times he had lingered near— hovering, more accurately, above. So much so that he instinctively slips off his shoes and places them in your rack, mirroring the countless times he observed you perform the same task.

“So you really are my guardian angel,” you shudder quietly and he hums in questioning, turning to look at you, “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you respond, perking up and adorning your lips with a swift smile. “Would you like something to eat?”

“I’m okay,” he whispers, attempting to shrink as much as possible in the confines of your place. He has never felt this much discomfort in his own body, as though the skin draped on his bones belonged to a stranger. 

“Well, I’m hungry so you’ll eat with me,” you say with a warm smile, putting your hair up in a quick bun before walking into the kitchen. You move seamlessly as if you are hosting a long-time friend rather than an angel you saved from possible hypothermia. 

“Buldak ramen?” you ask, hands resting on the counter.

“Sure,” he nods, settling atop the stool. 

He watches in silence as you bring the water to a boil, before pouring two servings of the instant noodles into it. You pause, thinking it over before adding two more. 

“How are you so nonchalant about this?” he blurts out, finally freeing the question that had been swirling and growing in his mind- an insatiable weed that needed to be plucked before it infested his brain completely.

“About having an angel in my house who was apparently cast away from the skies and has guarded me for the past five years without me knowing, and who somehow knows where my shoe closet is without me needing to share?” you ramble in one breath, the tightness in your chest palpable. “Yeah, I’m totally cool about that.”

“You’re totally not cool about that.”

“No, I’m not,” you admit sheepishly, settling on the stool before him. “I mean I am. A friend of mine met his guardian angel two years ago when he saved him from a horrible car accident. So, your existence does not freak me out, it’s common knowledge for us humans.” 

You bite your lip, averting your gaze from him to the painting adorning the wall above your couch—a bouquet of red roses where the petals seem dripping scarlet, resounding with passion and love, signed by H.

“It’s just… did you do something bad? For you to be left there alone?”

“Not bad,” he mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly. It suddenly seemed silly to explain to a human that he envied their humanity, the one thing most of them seem to despise. “I broke the rules by talking to you that night, then to another human, and I was punished for it. I think,” he adds hesitantly.

“Oh,” you gasp softly, redirecting your attention to the pot to turn off the heat. It makes breathing easier for him. “You think?” you echo.

“It’s what I wanted,” he whispers, a bit breathless, now frightened by this newfound reality. He kept his powers and yet he lost his wings— he cannot fly back to his home and yet he can conjure anything his mind wishes for. He is with the one human that sparked his fascination and yet he cannot stop thinking of the price Christopher mentioned. Thinking too much about any of these things brings tears back to his throat— his body yearning to produce a liquid it has never known before.

“So, I assume you’ve never watched Howl’s Moving Castle up there,” you abruptly shift the subject, a radiant smile gracing your face as you pour the ramen into two bowls, generously topping them off with cheese.

“No?” His response carries a hint of uncertainty, and a sudden wave of frustration washes over him for feeling so displaced in his own existence. Yet, you appear oblivious to the awkwardness emanating from him as you gasp enthusiastically, seizing the two bowls and making your way to the couch. 

“Oh, I think you’ll like it,” you beam, patting the spot next to you before taking the remote and queuing up the movie.

The meal tastes better than anything Yongbok has ever eaten in his life, each bite igniting his taste buds in a symphony of flavors, akin to the spark of a popping candy in his mouth. He finds himself engrossed in the movie, in the stunning visuals, the gentle hues, and the paradoxical characters, uncovering reflections of his own existence within them.

He has never understood the need humans felt for art, dedicating hours upon hours to creating something not for their personal gain, but for others to watch, to reach, to touch. A craft not to appease one’s soul but to soothe the spirits of others. Yet, as the movie’s credits come to an end, a subtle shift occurs within him. Perhaps, he thinks with his widely beating heart, he now understands a little more.

“I feel terrible like there is a weight on my chest,” you repeat one of Howl’s concluding lines, stealing a glance at him, a tender smile gracing your face. The one dialogue that felt like a mirror was brought up to Yongbok's face.

“A heart’s a heavy burden,” he completes Sophie’s response to Howl. 

“That’s true. The heart weighs heavily on those who bear it,” you speak softly, as one would do to a child taking tentative steps into the world, learning that their first breath starts with grieving the only place you've known for nine months, followed by happiness, then sadness again, akin to the moon’s gradual phases. And maybe, in a way, he is a child lost in the overwhelming flood of these emotions, ones yet to be untangled in his mind but that already lay upon him like stones.

“Not everyone knows they have a heart, Yongbok. Some end up dying before ever feeling, without ever truly living.”  

“I just didn’t imagine it would be this… soul-crushing to bear it,” he admits softly, the words escaping him like a delicate secret. There's a hint of fear that accompanies his confession, an apprehension that Christopher might materialize before him, speaking in that calm, knowing tone—berating him with a simple “I told you so.”

“It’s a little organ facing a big life. It’s normal for it to be overwhelmed, don’t you think?” 

“Mm,” he hums in agreement, placing a trembling palm above his heart. Still as heavy. 

“You had a long night, get some rest, okay? We can start looking for a house tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he nods, as you rise from your place, only to reach for your wrist before fully thinking it through.  “Thank you,” he says sincerely. 

In the cracks of his heart, one seed of gratitude has been planted, a singular ray of light amid a stretch of darkness.

Finding a house turns out to be a strenuous task, and Yongbok feels remarkably disinterested in the discussions with every real estate agent you encounter. You play the role of his assistant, weaving a tale about an important businessman client who abruptly secured a job transfer to Seoul. However, he couldn't care less for the large windows ushering sunlight or the expansive patio offering picturesque views of Seoul. Instead, he focuses on your reactions to each room—the gasps of delight at spacious storage areas and the vacant rooms you dream of adorning in the future, once you're no longer a broke college student, as you explain.

You envision a room dedicated to your books, with a chair nestled in the middle for the long nights you spend reading, and another room designed as a painting studio. The expansive kitchens you visit are perfect for your baking endeavors, and Yongbok, perplexed by your fascination with fridges sporting two doors, finds amusement in your lively antics. Yet, a void persists within him, unfilled by the prospects of a shiny new home.

“Still not the one?” you ask on your third day of apartment hunting, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s okay, we’ll find the perfect one soon,” you reassure, and in that moment, he thinks back to your very first conversation on the rooftop, wonders how you can find hope for everyone surrounding you but yourself. 

“I still can’t believe I befriended a nepo angel,” you giggle, before inching closer to him on the couch, peering at him from beneath your eyelashes. “My air fryer is broken by the way, can you replace it?”

He contemplates for a minute before shaking his head, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “No.”

“Aren’t you my guardian angel?”

“Right, a guardian angel. Not a bank.” 

“But if my air fryer isn’t replaced soon then I’ll keep using it even though all its electric wires are now exposed and a fire will break out and I’ll end up dying—”

“Fine,” he heaves a resigned sigh, “I’ll replace it.” 

“Can you also get me the Le Creuset kitchen set?” you grin, standing in your kitchen a few minutes later, cradling your brand-new air fryer between your arms.

“I'm not your sugar daddy.”

Your gasp is so comical that it coaxes a little giggle from his lips. “So you know about sugar daddies and not Studio Ghibli movies.”

“Gossip travels in our world too,” he shrugs, and you put the air fryer down, leaning closer to his face. From this proximity, he can discern the delicate curve of your eyelashes and the way they frame your glowing eyes—how can your eyes shine so brightly even under the shittiest kitchen lighting he’s ever seen?

"Hello? Did you hear me?" you wave a hand before his face, and he snaps back to reality, your voice flooding his senses again.

“Hm?”

“Never mind,” you shrug your hand dismissively in the air, “should we celebrate your third day of knowing me?”

“That's cause for celebration?” he frowns, and you playfully hit his arm. “I feed you, I clothe you, I put a roof above your head—” Your words are muffled as he clasps a hand over your mouth.

“Can you hear that?” he wonders.

You shake your head no.

“It's quiet, finally.”

His hand, a feeble barrier, does not manage to muffle your offended gasp, and in that moment, Yongbok laughs for the first time in his existence, a sound that ripples from the roots of his being, washing over his sadness and erasing it for a split second.

His eyes are closed as he tips his head back in laughter, and he misses the way your eyes soften, your retort withering at the tip of your tongue. 

He’s beautiful when he smiles, you think. You hope for all his powers he cannot hear your thoughts. 

…

Yongbok does not know what’s there to celebrate on his third day in this world, for all he had felt so far was excruciating sadness. But he complies with your wishes, rising at dawn to join you on the shore of the nearby ocean. Seated on the sand dampened by morning dewdrops, the remnants of melting snow resemble ink on a page not yet dry. 

He watches as the last threads of the night unfold before his eyes, leaving way to a mesmerizing palette of soft pinks and oranges, the sky blushing from a night spent with the moon.

You brought him to witness the sun rising above the ocean, said that it would help calm down the frenzy of his heart. You are quite right, since the rhythmic dance of the waves acts like a spell, unraveling the knot in his tongue and coaxing him to recount everything that has led him up to this moment, to you. You were the main reason for his journey, he did not see it fitting to conceal the truth from you. He did not know yet how to deceive or lie. 

“So you wanted to feel?” you conclude softly and Yongbok nods, eyes not peeling away from the sky before him. It looks grander from below, a vast ceiling you never fear might collapse on you.

“That’s why it overwhelmed you a lot, every emotion is heightened because it was the first time, I suppose” you muse. 

“Yeah, but does it ever lessen with time? Isn't that why you cry often?” he asks, now free of the bounds that once restricted his curiosity.

“Can you please not bring this up again?” you hide your face, and he tilts his head, a perplexed expression etched on his features.

“Why is that?”

“It's embarrassing that you saw me cry this much,” you mumble, your words nearly drowned out by the crashing waves.

“It's not embarrassing. It's... fascinating,” he asserts. You stare at him incredulously, prompting him to elaborate. “You go down the same path, fully aware of where it leads, and yet, you do it again on the off chance that you'll receive the same kindness you show.”

“I sound stupid,” you giggle, and he mirrors your smile, not to mimic you, but because the corners of his mouth yearn to curve upwards, refusing to leave you alone in your grin.

“No, you sound brave.”

Your eyes soften at his words, the light of the rising sun filtering easily through your irises, causing your pupils to widen with each passing second.

“Thank you.” 

A tranquil quiet settles between you, the soothing sound of the waves filling the silence. The sun hovers directly above the water now, perched on the horizon, the sky much bolder in the colors it showcases.

“I come here when my heart feels too heavy to bear. I suppose that looking at the sea calms me,” you murmur, your cheek pressed against your knee.

“Why is that?”

“For these waves to reach the shore, they go through a lot, you know? Storms and tumultuous roads, and rage fills them, anger, sadness too at being away from home for too long. But then, they always reach the shores at last. And they calm down, and they’re at peace.” 

You turn to look at him, the hues of the sunrise reflecting off your face, dancing with the shadows that mold your features.

You look beautiful, so much so that he almost misses what you say next.

“So it is comforting to know that no matter how grand my worries are, there will come a time when they too will grow tired and rest.”

“It will pass,” he whispers and you nod cheerfully. “See, you’re already getting the gist of it.” 

“No,” he contradicts, “everything I know about humanity is from you.”

The colors of the sky seem to seep through your face at his words, and an unfamiliar warmth spreads through his being at the thought of making you blush.

He licks his lips tentatively, bringing your hand to rest atop his heart, hoping that the pressure will help ease its tension.

It does, ever so slightly.

“It feels like my heart is squeezed between two narrow walls,” he explains and you nod in understanding.

“Like it’s been sucked through a straw that drains you out of life.”

“Yes,” He exhales with contentment at the thought of someone understanding what he means, of what he feels no longer being an anomaly, but the norm for most.

“Will you move in with me?” he suddenly asks, and you startle, your fingers growing limp in his hold. 

“What?” 

“Your apartment is shitty, you hate your landlord and I’m pretty sure there is mold growing on your walls.”

“Okay, no need to attack me,” you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“I’ll buy the apartment you wanted, it technically doesn’t cost me anything and it’s closer to your university too, you no longer have to commute. You can get the library you wanted and the painting space too.” 

“But—”

“I’m a fallen angel tasting humanity for the first time, I don’t know what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do. I haven’t looked in a mirror yet because I don’t know who I’ll find there. And I’m so scared, Y/n, so scared,” he confesses, breathless, his hand still pressing your palm against his erratic heart. 

A few seconds of heavy silence pass, Yongbok senses a resolve in you unfold. 

“And in return?” you ask tentatively. 

“I want to be happy,“ he breathes out, eyes flickering over yours like a swaying candlelight, “Could you show me how it’s done?”

Act 3. What’s an angel to a human?

“I want a better body, I want better skin, I wanna be perfect like all your other friends"- Black Friday, Tom Odell.

“So, happiness.” You stand near a blank whiteboard in the middle of your cramped living room, the one you just asked Yongbok to conjure out of thin air. 

You’ve been slightly abusing his ability to make your every wish materialize in a fleeting second, but only for useless things, like a bar of soap that smells specifically of these notes combinations you always thought would pair heavenly together (they did not), or a tube of salted caramel ice cream at 2 a.m. because you were too lazy to walk to the fridge (it was mere two meters away). Or just like now, a huge whiteboard so you’d explain to him, visually, how to achieve happiness. 

You told him that you’d only allow him to buy you a new house if he truly felt happy, for the very first time in his life. When he asked you how he’d know, you said he’d simply do, when the time comes. You shook hands on that promise two days ago. 

“Was this really necessary?” he questions, cocking an eyebrow at you. In response, you place your palms against your hips, eyes squinting at his dubious figure. 

“Do you want to be happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then, shut up.”

“I don’t think violence is the way to go about joy,” he quips and you quickly shut him up with a glare. Yongbok came to find that annoying you brought him a strange sense of satisfaction— he enjoyed seeing you pivot away, trying your best to conceal your amused smirk at his teasing. You always fail, or perhaps his perception of your being is heightened by the bond you share.

“I was saying, happiness is a byproduct of biological reactions.” You draw in a smiley face with utter concentration, and he stifles a giggle at the simplistic representation of the feeling. “There are four main hormones that allow us to feel happiness.” You pause, pointing your pen at him. “Yongbok, do you know which these are?”

“If I did know, why would I be here?” 

“True,” you nod vigorously, looking back at the whiteboard before locking eyes with him once more. “Can you please play along? I’ve always wanted to be a teacher,” you smile excitedly, speaking in hushed tones as if it was meant to be a shared secret between you both, far from the reach of the angels and peers that must be looking down at you both right now— you in indifference, him in disdain.

He shudders at the thought. 

“Fine. No, I do not Miss,” his smile is small, it grows when your eyes soften at him playing along. “Care to explain?” 

“So, in theory, we have dopamine, serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin.” You flip the board, revealing some intricate drawings of what looks like the human brain, different arrows going out of it, filled with many inscriptions that he assumes are definitions of the hormones you just revealed. 

“But all of this is…” you play the drums on the board, leaning forth in suspense. “Useless!” you shout, throwing your marker and eraser in the air. Yongbok claps diligently at your dramatics.

“You know for humans with limited amounts of time on this earth, you sure do love wasting your precious minutes,” he taunts and a fire seems to light in your eyes, flames surging higher each time you poke fun at one another.

“You know for an angel who desperately needs my help, you sure do talk a lot.” 

“Touché,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Please grace me with your special knowledge.” 

“Fine.” You plop down next to him on the couch, your knee bumping against his. A pang of ache flares in his being before disappearing as quickly as it came. It leaves him no time to decipher its cause.

“Happiness is the hardest thing to get in this life. Sometimes you follow all the instructions on how to be happy and yet fail to achieve it.” You speak with a lingering bitterness in your tone as if you’ve spent the best part of your life following defective manuals. 

“Happiness won’t come to you, Yongbok. It doesn’t come knocking on our doors. You’ll have to search for it. Especially on days when everything seems grim and dark, you’ll have to squint your eyes and find it in the small things all around you. And when you do, hold on to them with all your might. Even if your hand bleeds, you hold on just as tightly.”

“What small things?” he asks, turning his entire body towards you. He is almost breathless, waiting for you to spell out the secret to tasting life’s sweetest fruit.

“Things that remain gentle no matter what time does to you. Like looking at flowers, sitting underneath the sun, watching the sea, being kind and helping people, enjoying your favorite hobby… “ you enumerate, your eyes never leaving his. “Do you have a hobby?”

“No?” he replies, though it comes off more as a question. You pick up on his uncertainty, waving a hand quickly through the air.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you find one. I promise.” 

His response comes as easily as an autumn breeze. 

“Okay. I believe you.”

You beam at him, sunlight seemingly pouring into your pores, brightening your face from within. He finds it strange that he suddenly sees the sun in you, a star he has never taken an interest in. But he quickly brushes the thought aside, mirroring your grin.

“I was also thinking,” you add, “you should work with me at my café.” 

“Me?” he points at himself and you giggle, nodding. “Yes, you! Do you want to just sit here all day waiting for me to come home from uni?” 

“What? Who said I don’t want to be your trophy wife?”

You snort, bewildered. “A what?”

“I did a deep dive into Urban Dictionary yesterday.”

You blink once. Then twice. “Crazy words to hear from an angel. And it’s a no, to being my trophy wife.”

“Please?” he pushes, tugging at the outskirts of your sleeve. 

“No,” you sing-song, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “We needed a new barista anyway. And I’ll teach you how to make coffee. Also, I think you’ll enjoy people-watching.”

“That sounds creepy!” he shouts from the couch.  

“Says the guy who told me I cry an average of 160 times per year!”

“It’s 165, actually,” he corrects. 

You peek your head out of the kitchen, pointing a threatening finger at him. “Die.” 

“What happened to live laugh love?” 

“Just how much did you stay on Urban Dictionary?”

“A lot,” he shudders, shaking his head. You burst into uncontainable giggles, and the same satisfaction floods Yongbok’s being. Although this time it is much stronger.

It is a weird thought that suddenly brushes his mind— he thinks that if the sun ever spoke it would be your laugh spilling out of its mouth. 

… 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you grin, spreading your arms wide as you open the door to Haven Café. Yongbok follows closely behind, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black jeans.

“It’s nice,” he says absentmindedly, his eyes sweeping across every surface of the interior.

“Nice? This is my baby. Please be more expressive,” you retort, pointing a finger at him threateningly. He shakes his head, amused.

“This is the most beautiful place my fallen angel eyes have ever seen,” he says with mock reverence.

He isn’t lying, though. Resplendent flower vases adorn every corner, and a warm, inviting atmosphere permeates the space, evident in the comfortable auburn chairs and the books scattered on the sage shelves.

“I was actually wondering… What makes something beautiful?” he suddenly asks. You pause in your tracks, then resume opening the blinds.

“How it makes you feel,” you say simply. “Help me?” you add. Yongbok nods, sidling up to your side to open the remaining windows.

“This place is beautiful to me because it makes me feel at ease. I know that whatever happens, I can always escape here. Between the flower vases, the aroma of coffee, and the large windows, I feel good. At home,” you explain.

“But isn’t home your house?” he asks earnestly, tilting his head to the side. Your smile, warm and comforting, brushes over him like a fleeting sunbeam.

“Home is where you feel most like yourself.”

He does when you’re nearby. 

Does that make you my home? He wants to ask, but something inside stops him. He thinks it is too big of a confession to be uttered at the rise of dawn. 

“When did you start working here?” he asks, watching you refill the ice.

“Seven years ago.”

“Oh,” he gasps softly, suddenly remembering that he hasn’t known you your entire life. He wasn’t there to guard you through your childhood, to watch you stumble off the steps, or swing high to the sky. He realizes how little he knows about you. He suddenly aches to learn more, to know everything.

“The owner was our old neighbor, so when I was sixteen, he got me my first job here. I’m very attached to this place and its memories so I still come here.” 

“Memories,” he repeats to himself slowly, as if tentatively tasting the way the word feels on his tongue.

“What was that?” you ask, as you sweep the counter with a purple rug.

“It’s nice to have memories,” he smiles and you scrunch your nose, shaking your head slightly.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I have no memories. None worth getting attached to anyway because all my life was spent feeling the same way. So, in a way…” he pauses, licking his lips tentatively. “I have never lived anything that shaped me. Except for meeting you.” A few silent beats pass, and you feel as if he has more to say, so you remain quiet. 

Yongbok opens his mouth, only to close it again, deciding against speaking. Yet again, too early.

“It’s your first life, in a way,” you finally say, “there are all these unknown feelings that you are experiencing for the first time. It’s unfair to you if you expect yourself to figure it out from the get-go.” 

Your palm rests upon his back, swiping gently left and right before you move around the corner to filter the coffee. But Yongbok feels as if the clock orchestrating the universe has halted, the seconds freezing the moment your hand touched his back.

It is a heavy, gruesome knowledge that he bears— knowing that beneath your warm, comforting touch lies a map of butchered skin and scars running down his spine. His powers had fallen short of erasing the remnants of his lost wings, leaving behind clots of skin that starkly highlight all his imperfections in one place.

Yongbok had looked at his back only once, a fleeting glance before he vowed never to set eyes on his abomination again, this grotesque reminder clinging to him like skeletons overflowing from his closet.

He felt ugly, and worthless for carrying such a vivid reminder of who he once was. Who he failed to be. No one should ever see his back.

Especially not you.

“There are twenty minutes left until opening. Shall we discover what your favorite drink is?” you ask, snapping Yongbok out of his haze.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat with an inhuman effort. “That sounds nice.”

Yongbok doesn't like coffee—you could tell from the scrunch of his nose and the squint in his eye after one sip of his iced Americano. “Are you bad at making coffee, or does it always taste like this?” he asks, and you throw a dozen napkins at his head in response.

“People ask for me specifically to make their coffee. Know your place,” you squint threateningly. He raises his hands in surrender, biting his tongue cheekily. Your eyes linger a bit too long on his lips, shaped like a cupid’s bow, their arrow striking straight through your heart.

It sometimes astonishes you how pretty your guardian angel is, and how seemingly unaware he is of the beauty he carries within each one of his features, each worthy of paintings and sculptures to immortalize them for eternity to come.

“This is good,” he grins, sipping his caramel Frappuccino happily.

“Because it’s ninety percent sugar,” you smile just as brightly. He puts down the drink slowly, eyeing you curiously.

“Why do I feel as if this is a secret insult?”

“It’s not a secret insult. I’m doing it to your face,” you smile, and he rolls his eyes so much they almost reach the back of his head. You can’t help but giggle quietly as he grabs the vanilla matcha drink. “Wow I can’t believe the sassy men apocalypse affects angels as well,” you sigh.

“I literally have no idea what half of these words are.”

“What happened to Urban Dictionary?”

“Die.”

“Aww, look at you picking up my slang already,” you coo at him. 

It's his turn to fling balled-up napkins at your face. You dodge them perfectly as if in a dance you’ve rehearsed thousands of times before.

“Anyways,” you clap excitedly, “you have five minutes to make me a latte.”

“Me? But I don't know how to.”

You place a recipe book before him, tapping the counter diligently. “I expect the world’s tastiest latte.”

A small smirk draws upon his lips as he shakes his head slightly. The sight of him makes you flustered all of a sudden.

“Anything else, your majesty?”

“No,” you grin. “Have fun!”

You wander through the café, dusting the books on the shelves– your most prized possessions, ones that you bought and others that customers themselves have donated. You return to Yongbok’s side when his voice booms through the place, calling your name.

“Here,” he slings the drink toward you, and your face contorts in shock.

“What the fuck? Since when do you know how to do this?”

“Do what?”

“This intricate latte art?” you point to the foam forming a perfectly drawn white swan.

“Ah, this. One time you were in the kitchen, very frustrated because you couldn’t get this shape right. So, I did it for you.”

“Are all angels as sweet as you?” you grin, taking a sip of the drink and holding his gaze over the rim of the glass. His heart catches in his throat for two reasons—anticipation as he awaits your reaction, and hunger as he aches for you to describe him even more, to dress him in all the adjectives linked to his being so he wouldn’t feel like a stranger, a blank canvas in his own body.

“How is it?” he asks. You remain silent, taking another sip.

“Mm.”

“Mm?” he echoes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s opening time!” you sing-song, walking away, and he follows behind you. “Why won’t you tell me? Is it that bad?”

“I don’t want to!” you speed up walking, and so does he. You end up running, skirting around the chairs, your laughter coating the room like golden honey. “Leave me alone!” 

“You have to tell me!” he shouts, chasing after you in an impromptu game of catch. He suddenly manages to grab your arm, spinning you around until your back is against the table, his arms on either side of your body. His eyes are suddenly drawn to the languid rise and fall of your chest, and then to the way your tongue slowly swipes across your lips, wetting them. 

A sudden warmth pools in his lower stomach, and he lets out a shuddered breath, his heart caught in a web of unknown feelings.

“Am I interrupting?” an unknown voice breaks in, and Yongbok quickly takes three hurried steps away from you, his cheeks ablaze as if flames are latching onto them—he doesn’t know if it’s from his embarrassment or from the golden specks he could decipher in your eyes.

“Mr. Kang!” you shout excitedly, skipping over to stand by the man’s side. He’s shorter than you, his back slightly hunched from time’s morphing hands, and his smile is warm as it lands on you. He reaches out to ruffle your hair in greeting before his gaze lands on Yongbok.

“Is this your friend?” he asks, the same smile still etched into his lips. You nod, and Yongbok bows deeply before straightening up.

“Can he make nice coffee?” Mr. Kang asks, and Yongbok stares at you expectantly.

“The best,” you finally grin, and a worried breath dissipates from his chest.

“I think we’ll get more clients too. He’s very handsome!”

“I know, you should see his freckles,” you giggle, pointing to a lightbulb that needs fixing on the other side of the café. Yongbok stays rooted in place, trying his best to steady his breathing. He is sure his face has turned the shade of the sky after a crimson sunset.

…

“This is Chris,” you say, standing by Yongbok’s side two hours later as he diligently wipes the counter. Yongbok follows your gaze to a young man nodding his head to the rhythm of his headphones. He looks serious, eyebrows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line. His hair is hidden beneath a black cap, but a few strands escape, swooping like a duck’s tail.

“We take a music theory class together. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, a true social butterfly. I think the term was coined for him,” you explain. As if summoned by your words, Chris looks up, his eyes finding the two of you. He tilts his head in greeting, clicks a few keys on his laptop, then rises to join you.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he grins, and you roll your eyes. “When are you going to drop the cheesy nicknames?”

“Never,” he smiles, dimples deepening. They remain as his gaze shifts to Yongbok.

Yongbok isn’t used to smiles that don’t falter when they land on him.

“Hey, mate,” Chris says, extending his hand. Yongbok nods, shaking it.

“I’m Chris.”

“Yongbok.”

“Are you new here?”

“No, we just found him outside and forced him to make coffee,” you tease. Chris bumps your shoulder playfully. “Shut up. Good luck having to stand her for so long.”

“As if you aren’t obsessed with me,” you scoff, turning to Yongbok. “He refuses to drink coffee anywhere else.”

“Because you give me free sweets.”

“In this economy?” Mr. Kang appears suddenly, and the two of you burst into laughter at his timing. “Did your daughter teach you that?” you giggle, and he nods, almost desolate as if forced to acquire this knowledge.

“Anyway, we should hang out at one of my parties, Yongbok. Let’s catch up,” Chris grins before winking at you— “My usual, please, baby.”

You send him a playful middle finger. He blows you a kiss as he returns to his seat.

“We’ve known each other for three years now. He’s very annoying,” you smile, shaking your head. “But he’s a good friend.”

Yongbok feels something chip away in his heart, as his eyes land on Chan’s figure yet again. A slow ache swirls in his stomach like thorny vines. Time seems different for humans. He has known his fellow angels for much longer yet he doesn't think anyone would ever speak of him with this fond of a tone. 

---

“You did well,” you smile, patting Yongbok’s shoulder at the end of the day, the café as empty as it was at 6 a.m.

“Thank you, it was nice,” he replies with a tired, yet genuine smile. You nod, a slight yawn taking over you.

“Will you help me get some flour from the back? Then we can go home.”

Home. A concept that seems less foreign when you are near.

“Sure.”

“It’s there,” you point to a high shelf in the storage room. “We usually use a staircase, but we broke ours last month. I almost fell on my head— “

“But ended up magically walking away unscathed?” he interrupts. “I know.”

You slam a hand over your mouth, staggering back. “How?”

“Y/n... please don’t be surprised when I tell you this,” Yongbok frowns, placing a hand on his heart.

“Tell me,” you whisper.

“When I told you I was your guardian angel, it meant that I actually guarded you from harm’s way.”

“No,” you shake your head.

“I know,” he nods solemnly. “I’ve saved you from many, many clumsy falls.”

“My savior,” you giggle. “Lift me?” you say, and he nods, squatting down until you climb atop his shoulders before rising again.

“Okay, get a bit closer,” you instruct as you grab a packet of flour. “Shit, okay, this is heavy,” you giggle nervously.

“Why are you shaking? I’m the one carrying you,” Yongbok chuckles.

“When have you ever seen me around the vicinity of a gym?”

“Just hang in there, I’ll squat slowly,” he reassures.

Your feet are almost on the ground when the bag slips from your hands, falling with a resounding bang. Clouds of white envelop you both, shrouding your clothes in powder. You freeze, only to erupt into laughter as Yongbok grabs your waist, pulling you down to him.

“My god,” you manage to utter between chuckles, staring at the flour scattered all over the ground. Your laughter intensifies as Yongbok stares at you blankly, his face completely covered in white.

“What should I do?” you giggle, clutching your stomach. Yongbok can’t hold in his laughter much longer at the sight of the tears rolling down your cheeks. His giggles stream through your veins like a cup of hot tea, making your entire being warm up from within.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, your palms settling atop his cheeks, slightly wiping away the powder.

“It’s okay,” he chuckles still, swiping his knuckles across your cheek to remove the flour, as well. Your hands cease their movements as you take in the fully concentrated look on his face.

“Can I ask you something?” you inquire quietly, and he nods.

“You seemed quiet today,” you note. He stiffens slightly before turning your cheek to the left, wiping the other side of your face. “Or was I wrong?”

“I don’t really know how to talk to other people.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m scared they’ll be able to tell there is something abnormal about me.”

“Yongbok...” you speak his name softly as if it was molded after your voice alone. “That’s nonsense. There is nothing abnormal about you.”

He avoids your gaze, so you place your hand atop his, tilting your face to catch his eyes. “Hm?”

“Just because my wings aren’t here doesn’t mean my past is erased.”

“Who said it should be? No one’s asking you to be perfect. No human is, Yongbok.” He remains silent, so you sigh softly, inching closer to him.

“If a straight line goes on with its path...” your fingertip drags a straight line across his chest, the white shirt he’s wearing suddenly igniting from the warmth of your touch. “It will remain undisturbed for the rest of its life. But what good is that? If a line doesn’t go down,” you trace a curve down his shirt, then one up again, “how will it ever know how sweet a high is, right?” you smile, before bopping your fingertip across the tip of his nose.

“You have pretty freckles, by the way,” you smile, and he clears his throat, nodding furiously. “Thank you.”

“You know, the guy who ordered the matcha latte, he spent his entire time here observing you,” you grin knowingly, and he frowns. “Really? I didn’t notice.”

“Yes, and when you gave him the change, he did the... what was it called again?” you muse for a few seconds before clapping. “Ah, yes, the triangle method.”

“What’s that?”

“He looked into your left eye, then your right one,” you demonstrate with your gaze gliding across his like a skilled ice skater grazing the surface of ice. “Then... his gaze flickered to your lips,” your eyes follow your words, and his breath suddenly catches in his throat, an unknown feeling swelling in the pits of his stomach. Tender and aching all at once. 

“Did it work? Did I fluster you?” you giggle, leaning to place your ear atop his heart. Yongbok pushes your head away, grateful for the dim lighting that conceals his blushing face. He doesn’t know what emotion will burst into him if your head rests across his chest.

He doesn’t think his heart could handle it.

“No, you didn’t, um—” he’s flustered. He prays with all his might you can’t tell. “Let’s clean this up, I’m hungry.”

“What should we have for dinner?”

“Sushi?”

“No, let’s have kimbap.”

“Then why did you ask me?”

You shrug happily. “I’m giving you the illusion of choice.”

Your words send a chill running down his spine, his hands freezing in place. Is this what Chris has offered him? An illusion of choice. Of a different ending. Of a fate different from what he has always thought would be his.

No, Christopher can’t be that cruel, right? Yongbok shakes his head, cleaning the entire room with an absentminded swipe of his hand.

A fool made to believe he can change a prophecy.

But Yongbok can’t help the small voice growing in his head, feeding off his worries and anxiety, echoing mindlessly within his mind.

But he can.

He can.

He is.

…

Time passes differently on humans than on angels. It now marks Yongbok in different ways, too. 

The hours he spends feeling sad are excruciating, stretching long and long till he starts to question whether the sun does rise at the end of the night. Or if it is a cruel lie recounted by humans to make the sadness less harsh, easier to bear. 

But those same hours he spends happily pass within the blink of an eye, their fragments stitching into Yongbok’s memory, a tapestry woven with threads of your silky voice and glimmering eyes. It is those happy moments he lived for the past month that he wishes to remember. 

Only those. 

He's gotten better at latte art, taking pleasure in drawing different shapes, animals, and even faces into the drinks. It’s less the satisfaction of being good at a task, and more so the smile that blooms on the faces of whichever customer gets their drink. Delighted by something he did, for once.

He’s good at making brownies. And apparently, his brownies are the best you’ve ever had. He’s only ever discovered the joys of baking because you were craving some but were feeling too lazy to make them. It was arguably hard to bake in the dark, as if ashamed of what your reaction would be if you found him struggling with pots and browned butter. 

But all of his embarrassment dissipated when you tasted them first thing in the morning, your eyes lingering longer on his figure when you found the plate. 

Mr. Kang agrees, too, so much that he’s asked him to put up these brownies for sale. Yongbok spends a lot of time with the kitchen staff, where Mrs. Kang, the head chef, teaches him the intricacies of carrot cake and cinnamon rolls. She calls him “son”,  Yongbok doesn’t know why an urge to weep overtakes him each time he hears the nickname.

You took him on picnics across the Han River, bowls of steaming hot ramyeon in your hands as you watched the sunset, sometimes the sunrise too. He reads books lying on the grass field, your shoulder brushing against his own. He doesn’t know why he remembers the swipe of your skin against his, or the specific scent of your perfume as it intermingles with that of the salty river. 

Sometimes it is bike rides across the river. You chasing the sun and him chasing something else— was it your smile, your happiness, a glimpse of your face each time you turned back to look at him? He doesn’t know the exact answer, but he knows that when your gaze met his across your shoulder, the wind swaying your hair as if spelling out lullabies for his soul, something excruciatingly tender bloomed within his soul. 

Sometimes it is day trips to neighboring cities, where you can see the beach once again. Where he swims and floats atop the water. Where he closes his eyes and feels at peace, where the water chases off images of his pain and leaves only images of you. 

He also volunteered at your local food kitchen. The people who eat there have called him kind, too. He feels as if you sat the course of how he would be perceived when you described him as such, the very first night you spoke in. He likes being there. He likes talking to people, he’s gotten better at it, too. 

He met Chan, and his two friends, Han and Changbin. He doesn’t remember how he ended up singing ad-libs for their newest mixtape. But they complimented his voice, said it’s perfect for harmonizing. You had simply grinned as if you already knew that from the moment you had first heard him speak. You spent the rest of the night eating grilled meat and playing video games over at their dorm. Yongbok doesn't think he laughed as much as that day. 

And each time he thinks the heights of his happiness are attained, that this is as joyful as he can get. That sorrow will undoubtedly follow closely, as it lingers just around the corner, waiting for the cup of his happiness to be filled to the brim. You prove him wrong. You make him laugh harder. You broaden his heart for him to receive even more happiness. 

As you are doing now, missing every target to win this pink cat plushie in Lotte World. 

“This is embarrassing, how can you miss all of them?” he sighs amusedly and you turn around, pointing a finger at his face. 

“Because you are staring at me with your…” you stammer, waving your finger in front of his face, “eyes.”

“How am I supposed to look at you then?”

“Just don't. I don’t do well with scrutinizing.”

“Okay, I’m not looking.” he turns around, closing his eyes for a second, waving his hand discreetly through the air. He knows that your delighted scream will follow. 

“Did you get it?” he feigns being surprised as you shake his shoulder, turning him around. “I did!” 

Your smile is as wide as an ocean, as beautiful as the sunsets you take him to witness. He’s lost in thought as he takes in your grin. 

“You look so pretty, Yn,” he says honestly, earnestly, because it is the only way he has ever known to speak to you. “Pretty like the sun.” 

“Oh,” your excitement fizzles out, the plushie growing lump in your hold. “Doesn’t the sun burn the more you look at it?” you giggle nervously, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. They are rebellious, refusing to stay still, so Yongbok steps forward, gently doing it for you.

“Because the sun shines a bit too brightly to make sure everything else in the universe does.” he pauses, running his tongue across the expanse of his lips. “Just like you, with me and everyone else in your life,” he says. My light is a reflection of yours, is what you hear. 

“You are very honest,” you smile softly, bringing a hand to your ablaze cheeks, hoping to cool them down. 

“Is it a bad thing?” he asks. Nervous. You quickly shake your head, despising the thought of a negative emotion trapping his heart.

“No, no. It’s a good one. Truly.” 

“Okay.” 

“Should we go to the ferry wheel?” you suddenly ask, hugging the plushie closely to your body. 

“Yeah, sure, let’s go,” he grins. 

Yongbok’s limbs are slightly achy from all the rides you went on today, but nothing seems to deter the smile on his face, even as the line stretches for meters ahead. Nothing, except for the discomfort slowly growing on your face, your thumb tearing at the skin near your nails. 

“What’s wrong?” he questions, trying his best to catch your fleeting gaze. 

“There are too— too many people around, I feel a bit suffocated.” 

Yongbok doesn’t think, he simply grabs your hand and you are suddenly on the top of the ferry wheel, humans morphing into tiny ants to you from high above.

“Better?” he asks worriedly, tucking a strand of your hair behind the cuff of your ear. 

You’re still slightly dazed, but the wind that slams into your body feels like a gulp of cold water. 

“Your hands are shaking,” he notices, entwining your fingers with his, naturally, as if it is second nature for you both. “And they are cold. Are you dying?” he asks and you finally burst into giggles, shaking your head.

“No, I… I sometimes get anxious around people; it usually turns into a panic attack but I think you stopped it.”

“I helped you?” he asks, eyes softening and you nod. “Why are you surprised? you always do.”

Yongbok doesn’t know how to face the gentleness of your tone. It is a much harder opponent than the harshness he was subjected to. 

“Do they happen often?”

“It depends. They come and go like the seasons. I actually… I learned how to help you from my mom. Do you remember? back on the rooftop?”

“Really?” he asks, bringing your interlocked hands to his mouth and blowing warm air onto them. His lips almost graze your knuckles in the process. 

“Yeah. She got them frequently and she taught me how to ground her. And then I used those techniques on myself. Then on you.” you sigh, closing your eyes and tipping your head back. 

“Hers happened because of a past accident. She once got stuck in a mob of people and ended up fainting. it was my dad who pulled her up from the ground, it’s how they met, actually,” you grin slightly, before breathing in slowly.

“You know, I read that you can inherit trauma from your parents, but also from generations past. That  it changes the genetic structure of your mind. I wonder if that’s what triggers me.” 

“That's fascinating to think about. How emotions and experiences can be inherited.” 

“I know,” you smile, “I think it passed.” you gesture to your interlocked hands and he lets go promptly, staring ahead at the twinkling city lights, light pink dusting his cheeks. He’s embarrassed because he enjoyed the feel of your palm against his so much, maybe too much, enough to wish for your line palms to meld into one another. Becoming two indiscernible scriptures to the naked eye. 

“Wait. Does this mean we didn't need to wait all day for the rides?” you suddenly ask and he nods. 

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I don't… I don't like using my powers a lot around you.”

“Why is that?” 

“I'm scared that the more I use them the more you'll realize that I'm a fallen angel and that you have no business talking to someone like me.”

“You are very silly, you know that right?” you sigh, placing your cheek atop his shoulder. Yongbok’s world stops spinning right there and then. “I don't feel as lonely anymore now that you’re here. Angel,, human, or something else entirely… None of that matters to me.

To me, you’re just Yongbok.”

the question trickles suddenly into his being, tiptoes inside him gently like a droplet finding its way back to a waterfall— what is the grandest thing the universe has to offer?

To him you’re it. 

“I think I'm happy right now.”

“You think?” 

“I don't know how to describe it… But it feels like I have a little sun in my chest. It glows and it’s warm.” 

You tilt your head back to look at him, a wide smile on your face. He finds his answer in the sunset that filtrates through the strands of your hair, the last sun rays of the day coating your face in a warm glow, as if it was made to make your features shine the most, to make the shadows in your face look like a sculpture. 

“Yeah,” he says after a few silent beats, “I really am happy.”

“Does this mean we are moving?” you giggle, spreading your arms wide as if taking in the entire universe into your chest.

“Yeah, wherever you want us to.” His words are soft, resolute, draped with a gentle discovery— he followed you down to earth, he’d follow you everywhere in it.

…

“I don't know how I'll explain to people how I suddenly afforded this apartment,” you smile, hands on your hips, as you take in your new surroundings. 

Yongbok moves to stand directly behind you, his chest almost brushing against yours. you feel your heart palpitate at his proximity— so close yet so out of reach, simultaneously.

“Just say you moved in with me”

“Mm, I’ll say we are childhood friends and you just moved to the city.”

“Friends? Is that what we are now?” he grins, the light from the tinted windows bathing his features in a kaleidoscope of colors. He’s so beautiful, You you suddenly wish for a change to what you are. you don’t know by what exactly. But something, anything that will allow you to appreciate, venerate his beauty fully.

“Well, we aren’t strangers anymore.”

“I think you are my first real friend,” he says, a bit shyly, pink filling up the spaces between his tan freckles. 

Yongbok always speaks what’s in his mind, with this air of innocence tainting his words as if he doesn’t know that thoughts can be kept to himself. 

You never mind it. Though it churns your insides, makes you experience this particular attachment to him. You want to orbit around him, hear what he thinks of everything, of the colors it seems he experiences for the first time, the food he tastes, and the humans he speaks to.

And most importantly, you. 

You yearn to know everything he thinks of you. You don’t allow yourself to decipher where this need is coming from. You don’t think you’d be able to handle its consequences. 

“You’re lucky I'm like… The best human to ever walk on this earth,” you grin, throwing your hair over your shoulder and onto his face. He squints his eye to chase away strands of your hair.

“The humblest too,” he says, his eyes drifting across the living room. You chose an apartment on the smaller side, as opposed to his unlimited budget. But he likes what you did to the place. He doesn’t quite understand the intricacies of home decor, but he likes the plants everywhere, the flickering candles, and the fragrant flowers bathed in dim lightning. 

And he loves your painting room the most, with a neat library on the side. It feels like taking a walk straight into your heart. 

“Who painted that, by the way?” he suddenly asks, pointing to the painting in the middle of the room, right above the beige couch. 

“Hwang Hyunjin. It took me four paychecks to be able to afford it, three years ago. His pieces are now much more expensive.”

“Hyunjin…” he repeats, tasting the name on his tongue, it is familiar, and the memory suddenly hits him once again. “Oh, I talked to him before.”

“Did you?!” you ask excitedly, grabbing his arm and shaking it slightly. “Where, when, how?”

“At a bar, before I became... half human?” he says, unsure a bit of what he is now. “He actually invited me to his upcoming exposition. When was it again?”

“Today!” you nearly yell and he flinches.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I've been following his news. He's really my favorite artist.”

“Should we go?” 

“Actually?”

“Yeah. you seem to really like him.”

“Oh my god, I’m meeting Hwang Hyunjin. oh my god, I need a dress,” you grab his hand, pulling him away. “We need a dress!”

“We?”

“Let’s go shopping, we need to buy…”

Your words fizzle out in his brain, his whole focus on your entwined fingers as you push him through the room. Your palm feels like a soft petal brushing against his bruised skin. 

If he freezes time, just for a bit more, to enjoy the feel of your hand in his, would anyone blame him? 

The earth would understand surely— the desperate need to appreciate softness when all he has known is thorns pricking his skin.

...

“Yongbok!” Hyunjin's boisterous voice echoes through the art gallery, drawing every eye to you and Yongbok as you stride inside. Yongbok barely has a moment to take in the lavish surroundings before Hyunjin walks toward you, his polished shoes clicking rhythmically against the white marble.

“I knew you’d come!” he grins, grabbing Yongbok’s hand between his two large palms, shaking it warmly. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” 

“Of course I'd remember you,” Hyunjin says, his face darkening for a fleeting second, before his eyes rest on you. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hyunjin,” he smiles, grabbing your hand and shaking it a bit more softly. 

“Yn. I’m a big admirer of your work, truly.”

Yongbok’s eyes soften at your excitement— they don’t leave your figure when he tells Hyunjin that you have a piece of his hanging in the living room.

“Really?” Hyunjin’s face brightens up at the news, “which one?”

“The red roses in the vase. It’s one of my favorites.”

“That was in my beginnings,” Hyunjin muses, a hint of nostalgia tinting his words. “I put a lot of love in it.” 

“I can tell, the colors especially scream of passion.”

“Are you one for passionate love?”

“Is love truly love if it is devoid of passion?” you ask, tilting your head. Hyunjin’s eyes linger on Yongbok for a moment before turning back to you.

“Excellent! Please choose whichever artwork you prefer; it will be my gift.”

“Really?” you beam, brighter than Yongbok has ever seen you before. The sun suddenly perishes within him.

“Of course. The prettiest artwork for the prettiest girl,” Hyunjin winks smoothly, before patting Yongbok’s shoulder. “Shall I give you a tour?”

Yongbok’s voice is withered as it floods his ears— “Please.”

…

Yongbok’s eyes are fixated on the red liquid swirling around his glass. He fears that if his gaze deserts the wine he’s drinking then it would inevitably drift to you and Hyunjin, giggling together, like long-time friends. Or is it lovers? The lines blur so easily for humans.

He had feigned an ache in his legs, telling you that he’d sit down while you go on with the tour. You had placed a hand on his arm, a worried crease in your eyebrows. “Okay?” you asked. Comforting, warm. It is the adjectives that always come to his mind when he thinks of you with him. 

But you aren’t his to describe. His to be kind with. His. 

So, he hummed, a tight smile drawn on his face. 

It’s not that he despised Hyunjin’s artwork. On the contrary, Hyunjin is a skilled artist, he can see why he’s reaping the fruits he sowed years ago. And yet, what disturbs him is something silly, stupid, too feeble for an angel, a human even, to care for.

He doesn’t like how your laugh travels around the gallery, how you fell so easily into conversation with Hyunjin, talking about your shared interest in art. He won’t ever have a passion of years to talk to you about. How could he when his existence merely spans over three months?

Yongbok is shrinking more and more, till he becomes a single dot of paint on the painting in the very far end of the gallery. Forgotten, dim before all the others. How can he dream to compare if he doesn’t know who he is? If his memories of life don’t even contain the four seasons, pausing in winter, barely brushing against spring.

When his torn skin doesn’t bear blemishes from falls years ago, while riding the bicycle, while playing with other kids, proof of a childhood well spent. No, his scars are that of one stripped from his roots, cast into an unknown world, punished, ridiculed. 

He’s unworthy of being an angel, unworthy of being human, unworthy of being in your company. Why are you wasting time with someone like him, who’d only pull you down, someone who needs instructions to understand how to carry his heart? 

The thoughts play out in his head, again and again, on your ride back home. You are happy, radiating even at the thought of a painting delivered by Hyunjin himself, your favorite artist, sitting in your home. His skin ricochets off your happiness, morphs it into anger and bitterness, all directed at himself.

He hates Hyunjin. He doesn't. He hates Hyunjin with you. He wants you to be happy with him alone. Isn’t he horrible for wishing to strip you away from happiness? 

Horrible.

Horrible.

Abomination. 

“Can you help me take off my necklace?” you knock on his bedroom a few minutes after you arrive, walking in to find him sitting on his bed, deep in thought. 

He startles at your presence, backing away even more into the wall. You frown at the tumult you perceive in his eyes. 

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Please, get out.” 

He can’t bear looking at you. He can’t bear you looking at him. What will you see? Someone poisoned by jealousy, whose insides are collapsing on themselves, whose body rejects his bruised soul, over and over again. 

Where else is he supposed to flee? If he sheds this skin, which one would finally accept him whole? 

“What’s wrong? you’ve been quiet all night, avoiding my gaze. Did something happen that upset you?”

He’s panicking, on the verge of combusting into tears. How would he explain this hatred coursing through his veins at the thought of being perceived? By your kind, beautiful beautiful eyes, nonetheless. 

“I really–“ a pause, “ I really don’t want to see you right now.”

You falter, your hand curling tighter against the doorknob.

“Because each time I do, I– I see you with Hyunjin, and I feel as if flames are burning inside my lungs, choking me.” 

“What?” 

“And I hate- hate how I… look how I exist right now. So please, leave, I don't want you to see me.” 

You hesitate for a few seconds, rooted in place. 

And then you close the door. 

You are inside. 

“Talk to me, what is it you’re feeling?” you speak softly, your voice cautious, none of the things he’s used to. It angers him all of the sudden. 

“This is exactly what I hate. You are wasting your time helping me decipher my feelings, you are pitying me. Can't you see how burdensome I am?”

You shake your head, taking a step forward. 

“I don’t, I like it, I… I love helping you, I love seeing the world through your eyes again. It feels like I'm learning new things every day thanks to you and I—“

“I’m an ABOMINATION,” he yells, the walls seem to shake from the voracity of his voice. “From the moment I was created, I have been nothing but anomalous, I… I don't belong anywhere, who was I kidding by coming here?” he tears at his hair slightly, now pacing back and forth in front of you. “Did I really think that feeling would suddenly fix the void within me? that talking to humans would make me normal–“ 

“Yongbok!” you cut him off, no longer capable of bearing the sound of his shaky voice. “Please you are not listening to me!”

“No, you are not listening to me! Look! Look at how ugly I am, look!” he turns around, taking off his white shirt, exposing his butchered back to you. “Look at everything that haunts me, please look at it, hate me and leave.” 

He pleads, naked and vulnerable before your eyes. He waits for you to deliver the killing blow, to cement the horrible thoughts he bears for his body. 

If it is your voice speaking of how worthless he is then he’d believe it more. 

A pin-drop silence coats the room. Yongbok believes you somewhat vanished from existence. 

And then. Your lips on his back, brushing across the plane of his shoulder in the softest, faintest manner. He almost thinks he’s imagining it, imagining you kissing his scarred skin as if it is a delicate petal, worthy of care. Worthy of admiration. Worthy of love. 

“Is this what you hate about yourself?” you whisper, your knuckles grazing his scars. “Why are you so mean to your body, Yongbok?” your voice shakes. Hot tears pool in his eyes at the sound of it. “ Didn’t it scab its best to keep you alive?”

“You are such an idiot,” you breathe out quietly, your warm palms settling atop his waist. “I won't hate you for this. How could I hate you for this?” 

Yongbok is dizzy, drunk off your voice and the way your touch makes goosebumps ripple across his skin. “How could I hate you when all I see is resilience?” Your lips brush against his back, the faintest kisses peppered down his spine. “When all I see is what kept you alive?” 

Yongbok’s blood has spilled into the first snow of Seoul, what feels like a lifetime ago. But somewhat, it is underneath the caress of your hands that he has felt most exposed.

“So, I am thankful for your scars,” another tender kiss, this time to the nape of his neck. “Otherwise, you would have bled on the snow and I wouldn't have known you. And it’s a horrible horrible thing for me to imagine.” 

Your chin nestles across the plane of his shoulder, your hands wrap delicately around his chest. Can you feel his heart beating wildly? Can you hear it spelling out your name? 

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, Yongbok. Haven't you been through enough, already?”

It isn’t the thoughts in Yongbok’s head that finally make him breakdown. It is rather the feeling of your chest pressed to his back, your cheek resting across his shoulder, you hugging him for the very first time in existence, you enclosing him in a cocoon of safety the way his wings used to.  

“I’m here. you can cry all you want,” you reassure, soft and comforting. His grief for his wings suddenly seem too far out of reach, the safety of his feathers paling before the safety of you. 

Yongbok doesn’t think as he spins around, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You respond swiftly, bringing his body even closer to yours, running your hand comfortingly along his spine. 

He doesn’t mind your fingers grazing his scars, he doesn’t chase off your touch. On the contrary, he craves it, his cells calling out your name, thanking you for all the love you’re giving him. He wishes he could glue himself to you, crawl inside your veins, build himself a nest between the web of your nerves. He doesnt think he could ever survive mourning you. 

“Please— please don’t leave me,” he begs, lost in waves of uncertainty, he thinks that if he holds you tightly you won’t ever disappear from his hands, trickling between his fingers like grains of sand. 

“Don't be silly,” tears fall down your eyes too, landing on his back like dripping wax. You attempt to steady your voice but it still shakes like rattling branches. “Where would I go?”

“What if they take you away from me?”

A flash of white clouds Yongbok’s vision, the cold returns to his body tenfold. He blinks repeatedly, and then he finds himself atop an abandoned rooftop. The blood runs cold in his veins, his heart pausing in his chest as he hears heavy footsteps approaching. Did he place a curse atop himself? Did his worst fear come true as soon as he spoke of it? 

Are you gone?

Oh God, are you gone?

“Yongbok,” a familiar voice speaks, and life resumes its course inside his feeble body.

“Seungmin,” he speaks the name in relief, a breathtaking smile blooming on his face. He sees the scrunch in Seungmin’s eyebrows relax ever so slightly, before a placid look drapes across his face again.

“Why did you do it?” Seungmin asks and Yongbok’s grin falters. 

“Did they send you?” he asks, a hint of apprehension filling his words.

“No, I came to bring you back.”

“What?”

“I will fly you back and you will kneel before them and apologize. And you will vow to never speak to humans again, and it will be forgotten.”

“I don't want to.”

“Why are you— “Seungmin pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “they are humans,” he says the words in disdain, as if looking down at them from atop an unreachable altar. 

“I know they are.” 

“They are weak. Driven by things they cannot touch or see.”

“And I love them for it.”

Seungmin frowns. “You’re defending them.” 

“Seungmin,” he sighs tiredly, “why are you doing this?”

“Because I'm trying to help you. This, emotions, feelings, love. It isn't worth the pain they will end up causing you.”

Yongbok scoffs loudly, angrily. “What do you know about love?”

“You think you are special? You think you’re the first angel to go through this? I loved someone too Yongbok!'' Seungmin yells, taking him completely by surprise. “And they had him get in a car accident to punish me for it. I still hear the screeching tires; I still see his skull fracturing against the ground. I had to beg— beg for them to rewind the seconds and bring him back to life. And all for what?” he scoffs, grabbing Yongbok’s shoulders and shaking them. “You are on cloud nine because this is something new for you, you think that those humans would ever accept you? But you are wrong! Tell me, what’s an angel to a human?”

The shout that leaves Yongbok’s throat is a foreign one to his being. “That doesn't matter to me!” he yells, pushing away his hands. “Look me in the eyes, ask me, what’s a human to an angel? I’ll tell you it’s everything. Everything if it’s her.” 

“This will ruin you. They will kill you, Yongbok. She will be your demise.”

“I’d rather die by her hands than live by yours.”

“What if she ends up dying by your hands?” Seungmin speaks calmly, coldly. Yongbok feels the ground give up beneath his feet. “What if in the process of hurting you they end up hurting her, what will you do then?”

“I… they won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I don't love her.”

“Who said anything about love?” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head. He looks almost desolate, somewhat that terrifies Yongbok even more. “You have your answer, I fear they have theirs too.”

Seungmin walks away, pauses, before turning back once more. He hesitates to speak, and in the seconds of silence that ensue, Yongbok discovers how terribly heavy fear is to bear. 

“I’m sorry, Yongbok.”

His tongue is heavy as it moves to ask— “what for?” 

“For the things yet to come.” 

[000-pawz]

" fantasy romance tropes " bnd series masterlist °｡⋆⸜ 🪽♡🪄

coming soon!

a/n: i was listening to dawn in the adan by ichiko aoba and got inspired to start a series! i barely see any fantasy stuff on here and i'm a big lover of it so here this is :3 <3 (p.s. there won't be an order to posting! it'll be random >3<) i tried to put my own spin on these tropes, so i hope you guys look forward to them! <3

"bloom for me" - sungho x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

angel sungho x human!reader | modern-day au, forbidden love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

"sungho has been assigned to be your guardian angel, to look after you from afar, and to make sure you stay out of harm's way. the only rules? don't get too close and never interfere with true fate. but when you find yourself in a dark place, unsure of whether life is truly worth living, sungho finds himself unable to simply sit around and watch you fall apart. he wants to show you the light; even if he must sacrifice everything he has even known for it."

"night life stars" - riwoo x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

elf!riwoo x human!reader | old fantasy au, forbidden love, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

"growing up, you've always been told to never pass the flower field in the woods and to stay far away from elf territory because everyone knows that elves are the most violent creatures in the forest. one summer, a drought spreads throughout your village, and while fetching water from a stream in the woods for your family, you end up slipping and hitting your head on a rock. when you finally wake up, your eyes immediately lock on to a pair of glimmering green ones. eyes that belong to the enemy itself."

"safest sounds"- jaehyun x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

hybrid!jaehyun x human!reader | modern-day au, hybrids & humans, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, living together

"after another tiring day at work, you're walking back to your apartment when you hear soft cries coming from an alleyway. with your undeniable curiosity, you go to find the source of sound—and much to your surprise, you find an abandoned hybrid curled up in a ball, shivering from the cold. with a promise to take him to a shelter when the sun rises, you let him come home with you so he can eat and have a warm place to sleep for the night. in the morning, though, you discover that this hybrid has already claimed you as his owner."

"seneca" - taesan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

magic!taesan x non-magic!reader | modern-day magic, rivals to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort

"han taesan. the bane of your existence. he's been your academic rival at your boarding school ever since you transferred a few years ago, and you have despised him ever since. on your way home one day, you end up encountering some people looking for trouble. in the blink of an eye, taesan is there to help you get away, but something is off. might it be his glowing hands and eyes? no, no, no. you must only be imagining things... but taesan's threat to keep everything a secret says otherwise."

"dance on the moon" - leehan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

mermaid!leehan x human!reader | pirate au, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, hidden love

"there's nothing more that you hate than working as a maid on this deck. your captain and crew are worse than scum and you miss home every day, but you must do as they say if you want to survive. one stormy night, the crew catches a mermaid in their net while in the pits of the sea and your captain declares to sell him on the market as soon as they reach land. but when you become tasked to watch over the poor mermaid every night, you end up promising to help him escape back to his home. maybe he could find a way to help you escape too."

"seek for warmth" - woonhak x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

vampire!woonhak x vampire!reader | vampire au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

"woonhak never asked to be a vampire; he never wanted to live a life he didn't choose and be cursed to live forever. thankfully, there's another fledgling in the coven who sees the light still shining in his undead eyes. you're there with him through the insatiable hunger and the yearning for a past he never had the chance to live, holding his hand through it all. eventually, he begins to find solace in your warmth despite his fingers being cold to the touch."

masterlist

[queenofallimagines]

Omg hello!! I just read your devotee headcanons(they were all amazing I loved them) for the brothers and I just wanted to ask if you could do one for guardian angel simeon???in my religion we believe that every person has a guardian angel so imagine how funny it would be when you come down to the devildom and simeon is like :o it's you!!

Certainly beloved!💕 I think this one might be the longest😭

Simeon:

- unlike the others, notices right off the bat

- He’s been assigned to you since before birth like come on he could recognize you by just an eyelash

- Will be slightly hurt if you don’t recognize him

- “You don’t remember me?🥺 but I sing you a lullaby when you were 2”

- Sir…. Please be serious, that’s like 3 seconds of memory

- Will passive aggressively push for you to move in with him in purgatory hall

- Lucifer is exhausted because he’s always there

- “You act like you LIVE here. Go back to YOUR dorms!”

- “Bold of you to think I would leave MY precious, amazing human here will all of you unsupervised”

- He’s not about to stop being clingy neither

- Sharing old stories at student coy meetings like you have got to stop him before he gets out a photo album 😭

- Scolds you like a parent

- “I know you’re now doing what you shouldn’t be”

- Luke is your honorary baby brother

- Will ask Luke to watch you like he’s tall enough to reach the microwave

- “Luke I’ll be back in a minute make sure they don’t have any more sweets”

- Like you’re literally grown💀please tell him to back off a little or this will get worse

- When he realizes he’s falling for you in a way Guardian Angels shouldn’t. He panics

- This the same shit Lilith did

- And he got demoted for just AGREEING with Lucifer about the war

- Hides it like he’s gonna take it to the grave, especially from Luke

- You notice he starts avoiding you a little and will lie through his teeth that he’s just feeling a little under the weather

- Lucifer peeped game though, and he’s like yeah absolutely NOT

- he’s not letting anything else happen to any more of his Family

- Will lock your ass up until he gets Simeon alone to have a talk with him

- Like you now have a curfew 😭

- Listen…. He would tear apart the entire exchange program over lesson 16,,,,

- Like y know how Diavolo said Simeon is the ONE person he doesn’t want to piss off?

- Yeah it’s like inconsolable now

- In any timeline any life any dimension he will feel you’re endanger

- In like Bible canon they really can’t help unless god gives them the okay so they’re often times forced to watch the one they were bound to protect suffer

- But this is the devildom and he don’t really got eyes down here. So who’s to stop him from coming to your aid??

- Even though you’re “technically” okay he’s still like not having it

- As soon as it happens he feels a sharp cold pain throughout his entire body and drops whatever he’s holding

- Struggling to remember how to breathe all he can think about is sprinting to the house of lamentation

- Busts open the doors to see you in mammon arms, and it’s like his whole world shatters

- He hears belphie laughing, and he’s never felt rage like this before

- Lucifer is fighting for his LIFE because he’s having to balance feeling grief, shock,rage, and also try to keep his brothers from going off the deep end so he’s like frozen

- Can’t think fast enough to stop Simeon from unleashing some divine punishment on this spoiled brat

- Lucifer does snatch him up because he will literally kill him in cold blood right there if he doesn’t reason with him

- Almost snaps back on Lucifer before you show up again for the intermission

- Shaking and crying with relief

- You’re gonna make him literally faint MC please😭

- Like don’t the angels use a LOT of magic to keep their emotions in check so they don’t go crazy like demons do?

- They’re having to suppress every emotion ever and dull those

- So he’s got like a couple of eons of just raw feelings pent-up beating his ass all at once

- When you explain the reveal he’s like REALLY about to throw up

- Lucifer and everyone are like feeling relief and are glad you’re okay

- Almost wants to break mammon arms for holding you and barely letting anyone else get near you

- But he’s frozen in shock too

- Lucifer side eying Simon like,,,,, me too bro, but he has NO idea how to talk to him about that?

- Settles for holding you as tight as possible and whispering a prayer into your hair for protection

- Teaches you to use your angel powers

- But doubles down on his over protectiveness

- Helicopter angel now

- Which doesn’t really mesh well with Lucifer’s attachment anxiety

- will come pick you up at random ass times and whisk you away for no reason

- Like the exam is in a month why are you studying devildom history now???

- Causing Lucifer to freak the fuck out when he does his randomly scheduled MC room check-ups

- Doesn’t even think to text you before hyperventilating

- Luckily enough, the first time you come back with Simeon attached at the hip

- Him and Lucifer have gotten into it a few times over this

- Dia is forced to call a student council meeting without you present

- You and Luke think the meeting is tomorrow and are making snacks

- he’s like okay Simeon you can’t keep doing this

- And he goes OFF

- Like this is HIS fault for not watching and protecting you

- Like if this is supposed to be for human angels and demons to coexist you’re doing a shit job

- Almost single-handedly shuts down the program by saying he will take you home and make sure they never get near you ever again

- Lucifer feeling so much guilt he can’t breathe is trying to be in his best behavior and be rational, but Simeon is relentless

- He’s talking out the side of his neck until he snaps back on some “you’re literally following in Lilith’s footsteps! Do you not think that the celestial real won’t also deal out a punishment for MC? You falling from grace isn’t the only thing on the line here.”

- OOP

- It’s suddenly crickets

- Even Barbados is like 😦🫢

- He can’t even deny those allegations so he’s just like glaring at him

- Solomon steps in bc WOW this is getting crazy

- Reasons with him that because you have a pact with all of them now they CANT hurt you and you’re training under him as a sorcerer so you’ll be fully equipped to defend yourself from anything

- Simeon relents at least sitting back down in his chair

- Explains there really nobody best as a candidate for representing the three realms than you being a part of all three of them

- (Lilith when she died wasn’t an angel or a demon but something in between so in my head MC has always been all three; human demon and angel and that’s why they’re extra immune to demon magic)

- Simeon agreeing to chill out a little bit swearing if anything else ever happens to you, he wouldn’t hesitate to target whoever’s directly responsible

- Imagine how awkward the actual meeting is tomorrow 😭

- You’re having a great morning and everyone holding they breath

- Barbados my beloved is the only one who’s got enough sense and acting skills to act like nothing happened

- When you stop lord Doavolo mid-sentence to ask what the FUCK is up with these rancid vibes

- Barbatos kindly informs you that it’s the stress from a new school event that diavolo has yet to announce

- “It happens annually (lie) and it’s usually very exhausting to put together. Perhaps you can alleviate some of that for us.”

- Everyone subtlety lets out the breath they were holding seeing you so excited to help out

- Barbatos stirring the pot a little more ALSO suggests you run the maid bunny café

- Suddenly everyone forgets what the elephant in the room was and is now talking over each other

- There was no school event btw LMAO so they just had to make one up and then take three weeks to prepare for it.

- Great way to lift the spirits though✨

[huntinglove]

Imagine your F/O being your guardian angel:

💚 They were assigned to look after you when you were very, very young and ever since then, your bond has only gotten stronger. Your family figured you just had an imaginary friend and shrugged off most of your interactions, and as the years went by you became more and more secretive about their presence.

🍓 They never fully explained who or what they were, but their company always made you feel so cared for and safe that it never crossed your mind to question them about it. And on the other hand, they could feel themselves falling for you more and more with each passing day.

💚 As you got to know each other better, your relationship blossomed and developed in it's own unique way, but you were never apart from one another. From domestic moments at home to saving you from danger and looking out for you, your F/O was always by your side.

🍓 You have always been the only person who was able to see, hear and feel them, and they thrived on that fact. You were never starved of affection and praise, there simply wasn't enough time for any of your insecurities to even cross your mind with them around. They were always ready to embrace you and shower you in praise whenever you'd like.

💚 Through the night, their embrace around you kept you from having nightmares or any discomfort, and the softness and warmth of their wings was more comforting than any blanket could ever be. Nights never felt dark now that their glowing eyes and halo could guide your way.

🍓 Heaven knows you're all they could've ever dreamed of, and their love for you went far, far beyond human bounds and labels. All that matters is that you have one another and that they'll always take good care of you.

[maehemthemisfit]

❬ ✰❛ MASTERLIST ❀❜ ❱

› 〉 .ೃ had to make a list of all the yan!mikey (platonic) x reader x yan!sanzu (romantic) asks I get because I'm falling in love with them everyday : „ ↴

꒰⚘݄꒱₊ YANDERE CHRONICLES : ♡ ⤹ ぃ

ﾟ — ➴ Thank you anon for sending these

⊹₊ ⋆ BLURBS ꜜ

🗒 ❛ guardian angel ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► exposition based : looking out for mikey leads to sanzu having his eyes on you

🍓 ❛ wingman ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► toxic friend Mikey getting reminded of Emma and Draken when he sees you and yan Sanzu

🗒 ❛ hiding wounds ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► hiding wounds from mikey and sanzu is necessary, especially when sanzu is so eager to take care of you

🍓 ❛ marriage? uh... not really ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Bonten timeline Mikey pressuring reader to marry Sanzu

🗒 ❛ just needed some air ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► reader using their connections as excuses to get away from mikey and sanzu

🍓 ❛ spilling the tea ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu loves telling mikey about the cute things you do, you tell koko what really happened and he takes pity on you

🗒 ❛ mikey fluff ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► as the title says :D

🍓 ❛ the good old days ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► times you used to play with mikey's hair

🗒 ❛ hug em too ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► hugging mikey in front of sanzu

🍓 ❛ shh... he's sleeping ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu wants a hug but you're carrying mikey (to avoid him)

🗒 ❛ koala bear ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► only you can carry mikey, and everyone wonders how your back isn't broken yet

🍓 ❛ lemme see ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Imagine Sanzu catches u crying and like he’s all like what’s wrong I’ll kill them but it’s HIM and ur like hahaha no I just stubbed my toe....."

🗒 ❛ too much? ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu gets the bright idea to come back drenched in blood just so you can clean and "pamper" him

🍓 ❛ sanzu started it! ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu and the haitanis has a fight over you and it causes an all out brawl, mikey happens to walk in

🗒 ❛ it's my turn ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Mikey, whether in KM or Bonten will probably have a time limit when Sanzu cuddles/hugs you"

🍓 ❛ excuses, excuses ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu using mikey as an excuse to get you away from others

🗒 ❛ benkei and waka for the rescue ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Waka and Benkei walking up to you and giving you those old man ointment for back pain since you carry Mikey around everyday.

🍓 ❛ caretakers ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► oh great, you injured your leg. good thing mikey and sanzu is here to take care of you!

🗒 ❛ say ahh ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu feeding you soup but you didn’t open ur mouth and so he’s just pressing the spoon against ur lips like :) ?

🍓 ❛ hugging sanzu ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► sanzu trapping you in a hug

🗒 ❛ distraction ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "what do you think would happen if you caught sanzu hand mid way as it was about to attack a person who was in the wrong place in the wrong time of sanzus rage..."

🍓 ❛ can't stay mad ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► mikey and sanzu can't stay angry at you for a long time... they'll find a way to make it up to you

🗒 ❛ insecure? not on my watch ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "I can imagine that if you have really bad eating habits they changed once Mikey and Sanzu are around. Mikey'll have Sanzu make sure you're eating properly, Sanzu making all your favorites. And ofc they both comfort you when you feel insecure about yourself and your body :( "

🍓 ❛ handkerchief ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Imagine if you saw Kaku getting back to the KM base after Mikey assigned him to fight someone..."

🗒 ❛ (interaction) ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Mae I really love the irony you wrote on your recent drabble <3 The one where you would do anything to keep Mikey's joy alive even it costs your life, when in reality you're the reason for his joy and your death is the last straw for him.

🍓 ❛ mixed feelings ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► You know how Brahman's other purpose is to bring Mikey back ? I'm pretty sure that Akashi and Draken has mixed feelings about you. You're from KM and you're loyal to Mikey which means that you're supporting Mikey to remain in that path, however you're the one taking care of Mikey like he's your family. The mixed feelings they have when they saw you buying food alone, and when the vendor asked about it you just said, "My boss can't really have breaks, so at least I want him to eat well"

🗒 ❛ not so bad ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► MAE, imagine Takemichi being shooketh when he saw how polite you were. He's going somewhere near a food stall only to saw an executive of KM aka you. So he hid in case you beat him up, only to hear you say this to the vendor saying how he's thankful to you for being a loyal customer, and you replied with, "I should be the thankful one. My boss really likes your cooking and he's eager to eat unlike before". Takemichi's speechless, a KM executive has better manners than most ppl he met!

🍓 ❛ til the very end ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Bc you mentioned a what if that involved you dying in the future, HERE I GO. Imagine if the reason for your death is..."

🗒 ❛ rest in chains ༉‧₊˚✧

╰►"I think the other reason why Mikey went batshit like you said (and my imagine that you die, although I have a similar one with a happy ending that I didn't tell you hehe) is because you..."

🍓 ❛ bittersweet ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Okay so imagine if you're an executive of a powerful gang and you befriended Mikey in the toman era..."

🗒 ❛ im fine! ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Mae so I read something about psychogenic fever aka fever due to stress, and I think that as KM reader grows older, her health's getting weaker. Especially the work stress from Bonten and also having to deal with two possessive men aka Mikey and Sanzu. You try your best to hide it from Bonten, you definitely don't want Mikey to start treating you like glass. "

🍓 ❛ overtime ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► you resort to working in secret whenever you're away from sanzu and mikey

🗒 ❛ bombastic side eye ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► just the haitanis giving sanzu the side eye because do he really think he could bag somebody like you??

🍓 ❛ evasive maneuvers ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Sanzu's so good at finding you that you've developed a sixth sense to help avoid him

🗒 ❛ hotel room ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► when Bonten requires staying in a hotel you're off limits to Sanzu at night

🍓 ❛ prowerpoint ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Sanzu's makes a powerpoint to convince mikey to let you stay in his hotel room

⊹₊ ⋆ ONESHOTS/IMAGINES/HEADCANONS ꜜ

🗒 ❛ ten minutes wouldn't hurt ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► delivering food for mikey and accidentally falling asleep in his office

🍓 ❛ stop movin ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Imagine if you ended up being a self taught medic bc you don't want Sanzu to treat you..."

🗒 ❛ only him ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► mikey doesn't like leaving you alone, so he has sanzu watch you

🍓 ❛ why aren't you with sanzu? ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Before Mikey starts supporting your relationship with Sanzu, buying snacks for you and Mikey was your way of avoiding yan Sanzu. It changed when Mikey started encouraging the relationship though. Imagine that you went back to the base with snacks, and after thanking you Mikey asked, "Why aren't you with Sanzu ?" "

🗒 ❛ insecure? not on my watch ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "I can imagine that if you have really bad eating habits they changed once Mikey and Sanzu are around. Mikey'll have Sanzu make sure you're eating properly, Sanzu making all your favorites. And ofc they both comfort you when you feel insecure about yourself and your body :( "

🍓 ❛ snack tour ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "During the earlier times of being in KM, you're quite distant with Mikey since he's very hard to talk to unless it's like gang business. However, you know other shortcuts to the base which has tons of street food stalls like dorayaki, taiyaki, crepes, etc so you ended up buying taiyaki for Mikey saying that you passed by multiple stalls otw to the base, might as well buy some. Both of you start bonding when you offer to take Mikey on a ✨street snacks tour✨. Just vibing with your boss."

🗒 ❛ mother hen ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Mikey following you around like a kitten especially in the office. You want to go out and buy food? Either it's him assigning someone bc you have to spend time with him and Sanzu, or him following you as well."

🍓 ❛ don't say nothin ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► Sanzu as always is taking his sweet time tending to your wounds and a member comments on it

🗒 ❛ play pretend ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "Imagine you hearing Koko's name from Mikey's office when you came back from an assignment, and you overheard Sanzu saying that they should warn Koko about getting too close to you. You don't want Koko getting hurt, so you texted Koko before knocking on the door. The whole day you're the clinging to them, intending to distract them so that they wouldn't go for Koko."

🍓 ❛ lion's den ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► "If toman Mikey couldn't sleep without the towel/blanket thing (it's in the manga), KM and Bonten Mikey most likely couldn't sleep without your KM coat or blazer. It's really difficult to persuade Mikey to give your coat or blazer back though..." how far would you go to get it back by any means? all you have to do is not wake up the lion.

🗒 ❛ political marriage ༉‧₊˚✧

╰► an allied gang of bonten let's their tongue slip and mentions how it'll be a wonderful idea for you to marry their leader or one of their executives. Mikey and Sanzu aren't too fond of the idea

⊹₊ ⋆ IN SEMI-ORDER ꜜ

guardian angel

wingman

hiding wounds

marriage? uh... not really

just needed some air

spilling the tea

mikey fluff

the good old days

hug em too

shh... he's sleeping

koala bear

lemme see

too much?

sanzu started it!

it's my turn

excuses, excuses

for the rescue

caretakers

say ahh

hugging sanzu

ten minutes wouldn't hurt

distraction

stop movin

only him

why aren't you with sanzu?

can't stay mad

insecure? not on my watch

snack tour

handkerchief

mixed feelings

not so bad

til the very end

rest in chains

bittersweet

I'm fine!

mother hen

overtime

don't say nothin

play pretend

bombastic side eye

evasive maneuvers

lion's den

hotel room

powerpoint

political marriage

⌢ : ♡ ⤹ ぃ ﾟ.

This is the majority of it! and all future scenarios related to this will go here ✨

[milliesfishes]

How about guardian angel Billy? He becomes one after he dies and instead of a sword he fights demons with a special gun that can only harm the evil. If you’ve got a demon haunting you or posessing you Billy can shoot a hole right through it and force it to exit your body so he can finish it off—and you don’t feel a thing! I’ve been watching Supernatural can you tell

OKAY THIS IS TEA

I’ve never seen supernatural but I’ll run with this

imagining you’re a person a lot of demons are after because you’re so good and sweet and Billy gets assigned to protect you and falls in love with you 😭😭🫶🫶

[hyperfixatinglove]

Hi Roe! Can I get uhhh... 🪽, ✨ and 💛 for Jacob plz (assorted ask game) <3

🪽 - imagine an au where your f/o is your guardian angel. what kind of relationship dynamic do the two of you have? are they the type to be more exasperated by your silly actions or protective over you?

Jacob would be very protective as guardian angel. I think he would show himself to humans a lot more than it's safe or even allowed to do so, as Jacob is romantic at heart & what could be more romantic than literal guardian angel falling for their charge?

He'd still be just as silly as in canon, as he would love to be source of laughter and for mortals to forget their troubles for just a moment. I also think he'd be curious about mortal world and how it would work, even if he wouldn't understand everything.

I think his halo wouldn't be golden but silver & he would have something about him that doesn't make him entirely an angel or different from other angels. Maybe clipped wing or accessory from past charge.

Our dynamic would mostly remain the same. Him being the teaser and silly one with vulnerable moments, with me being the quieter and serious. But he would be the one defending & protecting me, it comes with being immortal angel.

He would love to just float next to me when I'm doing errands and talk to me, as I bet only the person who's assigned to an angel can see that particular angel.

✨ - share some headcanons about your f/o! this can be visual headcanons, sexuality or gender, disabilities and neurodivergencies, etc!

Well considering his 80's outfit is literally sports jersey turned into crop top, I do headcanon he likes to dress sporty & collects sports clothes. He does also dress up more casual & bland, as his 50's and default outfit are gray & black.

For sexuality headcanon I must do something for Jacob as the game presents him as straight since his former love interest is Emma. As I'm not a woman and not a man either, Jacob has to put it mildly, crisis during the story I've created. This part is already over when Quar.ry as a game starts. Jacob does think of himself as straight but then unlabeled as Eden comes along and flips his thoughts. Perhaps he doesn't label himself at all or maybe he's either bi or pan.

Actually I think he'd like pan, as he can make as many jokes & puns before queerphobes can. And I think he'd like the flag colors & it would suit him more.

Given how clumsy he is & how he seems to be impulsive or not think about his actions having consequences I do think he could be neurodivergent but I don't feel that as confidently as I do for Ryan & Bobby who both strike me as autistic. He could just be naturally clumsy etc.

But I do headcanon he does end up disabled by the end of the night. In ch 6 of the game he will step on bear trap regardless of player input & if he isn't bitten he will have that ankle fucked up the entire night. He can still outrun Chris as Werewolf for a short time but it could be adrenaline working. I think getting your ankle fucked up by bear trap & then not getting medical help until morning, which is canonically at least 7 hours could end up making him disabled or at the very least have a limp for the rest of his life. Maybe the wound will ache like phantom pain occasionally?

Jacob loves romance movies & genre. He especially has soft spot for romcoms as it combines the two things he loves the most, jokes & romance. He is ashamed of this and hides it from other counselors expect of course Kaitlyn knows. He hasn't seen period drama romance before he gets together with Eden & survives events of the game but he's open to watch some and becomes a kinda of fan. He prefers more modern romance, but he won't say no. His biggest guilty pleasure are the bad romance christmas movies.

And now I headcanon Jacob as Barbie fan.

💛 - what is something most people consider a flaw of your f/o that you find endearing? why is it that you like that trait?

Let's see here. Clingy, possessive, clumsy, arrogant, careless.. There's a lot of traits people consider massive flaws of Jacob.

Many fandom people utterly despite him but considering how many thirst over Travis whom I consider to be way worse than Jacob, I don't put much weight into fandom opinions. It seems like tumblr fandom is dead anyway.

Clingy is fine to me, possessiveness is actually kinda hot, clumsy is just adorable & makes him doing sports much harder and he still tries so admirable since he has muscular build & is canonically jock stereotype and described as athletic.

Arrogant is mostly player determinant, the only ways it shows in canon is him trying to be brave about seeing werewolf in cage & taunt it & ask if it wants to fight him.

One could consider him still pining & trying for Emma's love who wants nothing to do with him but can't convey that as arrogant. But I can't exactly put all that blame on Jacob since it takes two to tango & Emma still flirts with him and sends mixed messages until the end of the game. I firmly believe Emma & Jacob bring out the worst in each other. Their theme song could very well be Unlike Pluto - Worst In Me

He's careless & arrogant when he sabotages the van at the start of the game, but honestly I can't bring myself to cast such harsh judgement most players do. Jacob could not have known about werewolves & if player chooses to steal tiny part the van is repairable. Besides it was Kaitlyn who gave Jacob the explicit details how to sabotage as Jacob did not know how. He just wanted innocent, one more night of fun & memories and hoped he could ''repair¨ his relationship with Emma. Selfish yes, but like he said, ultimately harmless. And yet he blames himself for everything. If anyone dies during the game you can fucking guarantee he will feel responsible. Most of the fandom already does, as this, this one act, is sited as the main reason why people kill him off, why they hate him, why he's the worst character.. The writers forced him to do it, without him we wouldn't have the game.

Some of the other characters have done worse, namely Laura & especially Travis. For fucks sake Travis has canonically kept two people imprisoned for two fucking months after drugging them.

No one blames Hackett family for having two werewolves, their niece & nephew running around at night killing people. The said niece & nephew being the reason why the original werewolf Silas is running around free and why they're werewolves. They have cages to keep them in, Chris himself is chained in their attic for fucks sake. Without Hacketts, the counselors would've spent one more night playing truth and dare, swimming & spending time together, without trauma.

But Jacob is the most hated character. Yeah okay.

@the-green-knight

[mothgodofchaos]

Slip

A continuation of my guardian AU.

Angel!Host x GN!Reader x Demon!Author, TW: religion Words: 873

Having guardians on your shoulders is a tale that they tell small children, as a way to help them understand their thought process sprouting in their subconscious, teaching them morals by personifying it. What the old wives won’t tell you, is that angels and demons once sat on the shoulders of people, and that they usually keep themselves hidden after the great witch hunts blaming demons and devils for possessions when in reality it was greed for power and the insecurity of men that led to those witch hunts. 

Now they’re hidden, don’t come out unless it’s absolutely necessary, and usually make their assignments forget they exist. Because in the end, they both want you alive for as long as possible so you can make more decisions that lean one way or another. Some angels and demons get along with each other, some fall in love, others fight with each other constantly.  You happened to have twin brothers who constantly acted like they were teenagers competing to take the same person to the dance. Charming to you, with snide comments to each other. It became a balance, and you frankly didn’t mind the company.

“The Host would like to know if they’re going anywhere later, and if they’d like for him to come along.”

“As if you two are going anywhere without me, blinds.”

“While he appreciates his brother’s offer, The Host is perfectly capable of watching over their assignment on his own. Seeing as he was the one saving them from the hole in the ground in the first place.”

“Only after I pointed it out! You can’t see, right?”

“The Author is indeed correct, but The Host sees through the divine connection he has with his go-”

“BORING! Imagine giving up personal autonomy just to get a “holier-than-thou” attitude.”

“The Host is going to pretend The Author is not there.”

“Oh! Just gonna ignore me again! Gonna narrate my mouth shut or something? Huh??”

You laughed to yourself as they argued with each other in your living room as you ate your dinner at the dining room table, watching the giants as they stand facing each other. Author gets up in Host’s face, who stands stoic with his arms crossed in Author’s direction. Author’s devil tail points and flicks as he yells at Host, whose halo glows brighter as you see him get progressively more annoyed.

“You can both come with me. We can go to a bookstore or something. Maybe a record shop?”

“Finally! Something to do!”

Author’s demeanor changes immediately, hopping around as he shrinks, landing on your shoulder. Host sighs, shrinking down and floating over to your opposite shoulder.

“The Author acts as if he is stuck here without personal autonomy that he was happily bragging about before.”

“And leave you to bring them to the bright side? Nah, I’ll pass. Sorry, feathers, I’m not making it that easy for you.”

“That was not the angle that The Host was trying to get at, but The Author has a point that he will acknowledge.”

“Thanks, finally!”

“Will you two cut it out! I’ll put you both in a jar and poke holes in the top if you don’t knock it off!”

They both glare at each other, as much as Host can glare through his bandages, and stop arguing. Author flops down, pouting on your shoulder with his arms crossed.

“Fine…”

“Thank you. I’ll let you each pick out a record if it keeps you occupied.”

That seemed to improve both of their moods, and they both nodded to you. You exit your apartment, walking down the stairs and down the sidewalk. The bell above the door jingles as you push the door open, shopkeep nodding to you and gesturing to the crates upon crates of records that cover the tables. Flipping through the nearest one, your guardians hop off your shoulders and travel to different sections.

It’s quiet as the player in the corner goes through a classic rock record you don’t recognize. You pull out a few that you recognize and like, taking them to the counter where Author and Host meet you.

“Duke Ellington, Hostie? Really? I thought you had better taste than that.”

“The Host promises he has better taste than The Author.”

“AC/DC is good! Damn you!”

“The Host will pass on the damnation, as that is The Author’s job.”

Host lets out a chuckle, which Author matches with a snicker. You pay for the records, and Author insists on carrying them back to your apartment. You tried to insist that you are perfectly capable of carrying them yourself. Your request was denied, guided to the door by Host.

Walking back you were frankly distracted in conversation with the two of them, talking about your individual tastes in music. A slip of your foot sends you flying to land face first on the pavement, until you feel a firm grip on both of your hands. They gently tug you back upright, as each of the men squeeze your hand tight. The rest of the walk is quiet, blush crossing all of your faces, but none of you wanting to let go.

That’s one way for them to keep you safe, at least.

[chaomother]

Okay I think I’ve got the list. I’ll elaborate if wanted but here’s what I think. Also 🦊, I’m so flattered, thank you so much. I definitely try my best so I’m happy it’s being recognized!

- Sonic (Angel, feel like we all already agree with that)

- Tails (Angel, just can see it)

- Knuckles (Fallen, he was made to protect the master emerald and became too aggressive and possessive of it so he was banished)

- Amy (Fallen, she loved humans too much and willingly left to live among mortals and fall inlove)

- Cream (Angel, again can just see it)

- Big (Angel, honestly I’m not 100% sure but this felt the best)

- Blaze (Demon, not because of her powers but I can imagine her as demon royalty who is mostly calm and collected but is absolutely dangerous if provoked)

- Silver (Fallen, meant to protect the hero who would keep the future safe but failed so the future is ruined. He was banished but told if he somehow stopped the current future he would be allowed his wings back)

- Espio (Demon, he’s noble sure but he’s still an assassin. The best in fact, can even kill high rank angels)

- Victor (Demon, he’s like the best hustler and knows how to hunt people down like a blood hound. But the scariest demon makes the best dad to little demons)

- Charmy (Demon, he’s just a little mischievous. He’s when your alarm doesn’t ring and your missing your keys. A little menace)

- Shadow (Fallen, come on. He loved the world and his best friend, but when she was murdered he grew vicious and heartless. He believes he can’t love anyone or anything again)

- Rouge (Demon, this just felt like the right fit. She’s the greed people feel when the push in all their chips at the casino even if the cards in their hand is bad)

- E-123 Omega (Jokes on you, he doesn’t have a soul, at least not like the others 😈)

- Babylon Rogues (Fallen, they all were best friends in heaven, the gave people the love to explore but when Jet was banished for becoming too selfish the others left with him and now find lost treasure together on earth)

- TC anon, okay this is part 1! I have more characters I want to do but I didn’t want this too long. If you think differently that’s also 100% cool and am interested to see what you think and why. Also again if you want more details on the backstories let me know and I’ll go into more detail. Hope you enjoy, see ya in a bit!

more under the cut!

"Here’s part 2 y’all!

- Mighty (Angel, he’s so sweet and protective. A guardian Angel in his core!)

- Sally and other freedom fighters (Angels, they all are protectors of earth too. Kinda like a valkyrie of heaven.)

- Scourge (Fallen, him and Sonic were twins but when Sonic kept getting rewarded for his good work Scourge got so jealous he tried to kill him. Of course he was banished into hell instead of earth and he absolutely tells everyone he was hell born instead)

- Sonia (Angel, high rank angel really. She’s super responsible and keeps everything moving)

- Manic (Fallen, he was lazy and didn’t care much for his duties so when he was kicked out he didn’t care too much. Of course he misses his sibs but they still talk)

- Tangle (Angel, she’s a brand new baby Angel. She’s so sweet and trying her best)

- Whisper (Demon, again assassin but is slowly becoming better due to being so close to Tangle)

- Sticks (Demon, in the same boat as Charmy I feel. More mischievous than evil)

- Surge (Demon, she believes that she can take Sonic’s wings and Halo by force and become just as loved as he is)

- Kistuname (Fallen, I can see him as a good kid. A good kid who just admired the wrong person and was influenced to help her. Helping out a demon is a no-no unless they are trying to reform. And surge is not)

- Eggman (Demon, kinda obvious)

- Infinite (Demon, a poor soul that when he saw his friends, his family really, die, his rage made him into a dangerous demon)

- Starline (Fallen, he inspired many for growing academically and was assigned to study demons so when the inevitable war against heaven and hell they can know what to do. But he became obsessed with Eggman and became more cruel and vicious so he was kicked out)

- TC anon (that’s everyone I could think of. Hope you enjoyed it! If you got other thoughts, I’d love to hear about them!)"

I NEED TO HEAR MORE ABOUT KNUCKLES AND SILVER... the takes on them being fallen angels is super intriguing to me, i can definitely see that you've thought of all this and have some worldbuilding lore present so i'm really curious!!

honestly i absolutely adore amy's—having her want to live among the mortals she loves so much in hopes she can find true love is just like her!

i can't say i disagree with anyone here tbh~ i'd like to learn more about shadow and why you think he'd be a fallen angel! (^q^) i'm so into this////

(and i'm sorry for the belated reply, tc!! :'( thanks so much for sharing hehehe)

[penandprompt]

May 2nd: Baby Day

Contemporary: Write a romantic comedy where a couple unexpectedly becomes the caregivers of a baby left on their doorstep, and they must navigate the challenges of parenthood together.

Fantasy: Craft a fantasy tale where a fairy couple adopts a human baby abandoned in the mystical forest. The baby grows up with magical abilities and a unique connection to the enchanted realm.

Mystery: Write a mystery novel where a detective must uncover the truth behind a series of mysterious baby disappearances in a small town, uncovering a hidden network of secrets.

Drama: Create a character-driven drama centered around the life of a couple who, after years of trying, finally welcome a baby into their lives and the emotional rollercoaster that follows.

Adventure: Describe an adventurous journey in which a group of friends must protect a magical baby dragon from an evil sorcerer who seeks to steal its powers.

Horror: Develop a horror story where a family moves into an old, haunted house, only to discover a baby's crib hidden in the attic, leading to terrifying paranormal events.

Science Fantasy: Write a story about a parallel universe where babies are born with unique elemental powers, and the protagonist must protect a special baby from a dark force seeking to harness their abilities.

Romantic Fantasy: Craft a fantasy romance story about a guardian angel who is assigned to protect a newborn baby and ends up falling in love with the baby's parent, despite the rules.

Dystopian Fiction: Create a dystopian story where the government strictly regulates childbearing, and a couple decides to defy the authorities and have a baby in secret, exploring the challenges they face.

Children's Adventure: Develop a children's story where a group of young friends embarks on an epic quest to retrieve a magical pacifier stolen by mischievous forest creatures.

Superhero: Write a story that explores the origin of a superhero who gains their extraordinary powers as a baby and grows up to protect the world from supervillains.

Satire: Create a satirical piece that humorously examines the absurdities of parenting advice and trends, from unconventional baby names to the latest, questionable baby-rearing fads.

Journaling: Reflect on a memorable experience with a baby or a young child in your life. What made the moment special, heartwarming, or entertaining?

Journaling: Imagine the ideal environment and upbringing you would wish for a child or a future child of your own. Describe the values, experiences, and lessons you'd want to impart to them.

[dreamkidddream]

I absolutely loved the doll! mc one with the brothers and diavolo. Could I ask for the same idea with the rest of the undateables and luke? If it isn't too much though. Thank you very much, don't forget to take care of yourself and stay hydrated!

I’m glad you enjoyed the first part!! I hope you’re staying safe through this pandemic and that you’re drinking plenty of water. I’m so happy that people liked the Doll!MC scenario so much (it even became one of my top posts and I was NEVER expecting that to happen 😳 click here to read it with the Bros and Diavolo). I got an UR card for Barbatos today and immediately thought back to this scenario cause I was just imagining the different situations with Doll!MC. Hope you enjoy!

Also, Luke’s part is strictly platonic, just FYI!

The Undateables (Minus Diavolo) with Doll!MC

Barbatos

Let me just say, you make this man’s day so much better

Your presence is just so calming for him. You could just be standing there (which is heavily enforced in the kitchen), not doing anything, and he would still be fully relaxed

Definitely loves you being in the kitchen with him, and will find ways to invite you so that you guys can spend time together

“MC, the young master has a tea party planned for this afternoon, and I’m afraid I may need your assistance to help prepare.”

“But Barb, I thought you didn’t want me touching anything-”

“I don’t want you touching anything that can cause you harm. I can easily handle the labor, but I do have a task for you...”

Cue to you sitting perfectly still and taste testing his sweets

“Barb, are you sure that I’m helping you like this? I don’t want to be useless to you!”

“Nonsense, MC. This is perfect. I needed someone with an exceptional palette, and you’re just the right person for me.”

Just you and him, and his sweet creations. What more could he ask for?

Maybe being in a relationship with you, but he is very sure that it’s going to be happening in the near future...and he didn’t even have to use his powers to know that

He stares at you a lot. He can’t help it, he loves to just admire you!

Barbatos is the type of guy where he doesn’t have to rely on words to express his love. His love language is acts of service: packing you lunch and extra sweets every week, giving you recipes that he wouldn’t even share with Luke, and gifting you mini accessories that you can wear with your outfits!

He gave you this adorable three-legged crow holding a cupcake hairpin and you’ve been wearing it ever since

He tries to hide his blush everytime he sees you and now he has to work even harder because of the pin lmao

HAVING YOUR OWN TEA PARTIES WEEKLY

You both have a designated day and time where you don’t plan anything in order to have your own tea parties

No Diavolo, no noisy demon brothers, no other exchange students (sorry Luke). Just you and him, enjoying each other’s company and him basking in your glow

If someone did try to harm you, he would already know of it and properly disposes of the problem. Lord Diavolo can’t afford to have any issues interfering with the exchange program, and he can’t afford to have anything happen to you so...no harm no foul, right?

Please continue to do what you’re doing MC. Stare at him with your bright, doe eyes and give him that lively smile everytime. It makes his day go by much easier, especially since he knows that you’ll still be there, waiting for him with your own desserts and that smile reserved just for him

Simeon

Was convinced that you were an angel

Lowkey still convinced that you’re an angel

Really, you just look so...angelic

Wasn’t upset when you revealed that you were in fact human; he was happy because this meant that he could show you around the Celestial Realm!

Speaking of Celestial Realm, be prepared for Simeon to be your very own personal tour guide everytime. This could be your 50th time up there and he’ll still try to point new things out

“And over here is-”

“Michael’s favorite resting place, since the lilies always seem to bloom whenever he’s around,” you giggled. “I remember Simeon, you tell me this everytime we visit!”

He’s a tad embarrassed

“Forgive me, MC. It seems that I get so elated over the fact that you’re here with me, I tend to repeat some things over.”

“That’s okay! I still have fun with you everytime!”

Oh MC, you’re too adorable!

Which causes him to worry over you. While he knows that the brothers and Diavolo (along with Barbatos) wouldn’t dare cause you any distress, the same couldn’t be said for the other demons lurking around, both in and out of RAD

But not to fear, Simeon your friendly guardian angel is here!

I am so sorry for the rhyme lmao

He may not have been personally assigned to you, but that doesn’t mean he can just let anything happen to you! He’s only doing his heavenly duties in protecting you! He’s also being a good friend by watching over you too, his little lamb

He wouldn’t attack anyone, but if he made a complaint or a very serious concern to the right person (Lucifer or Diavolo), consider the problem handled

You have your own tea time as well, and Luke would join you sometimes. But, every now and then, Luke would have to finish some homework or study, or Barbatos would miraculously call for him at the castle, or if it was just too late and Luke just had to go to sleep, then it would just be you two. Sitting by the fireplace, discussing matters ranging from RAD to your life in the human world, drinking tea that you would take turns preparing

Not to mention the downright dainty little cakes you would bring. One time you brought him angel cakes and he found so lighthearted and precious that he requested you bring them everytime, just for him

May or may not base a character in his new story around you

Simeon wants to shield you from the horrors that are surrounding you both. You’re so pure, he just wants you safe. From the way that you would dress to the way that your eyes would just look so amazed and innocent at him, he just knows that he needs to watch over you, always. The brothers do get a little wary when they see how much time you do spend at Purgatory Hall, but they know that Simeon couldn’t possibly have feelings for you, and you were always so giddy after leaving there, they couldn’t bring themselves to say anything

And Simeon knew that he was starting to feel more than he should. He couldn’t profess his love for you now in risk of falling, but he can wait until you get your wings. Just imagining you in your cute little Ceslestial Realm outfit (which he hopes still mimicked your current style) with your very own beaming halo was enough to keep him waiting and to make sure that you stayed on the right path

He deemed that you were worth the wait

Luke

BFFs! BFFs!

When he first saw you he could just cry

Someone innocent like you got sent down here with these monsters?! He had to keep you safe!!!

Simeon thought you were angel and then realized that you were not; Luke thought you were an angel and refused to believe that you weren’t

You didn’t have it in you to burst his bubble so soon, so you just let him run with it until Simon broke the news

It was like telling a kid that Santa Claus wasn’t real; you can only imagine how Luke took the revelation

Not well from what Solomon told you. Simeon kept saying he just needs some time to process things, and you just felt so awful about the whole thing

Which lead to you bringing him so much sweets that it made Beel jealous and very upset

But we all know how Beel can be around food, so it wasn’t a huge surprise. He chased you around all day and you had to use your pact to get him to stop!

And you promised to make him double the sweets in he forgave you so all is well

Luke was still obviously sad, but he wasn’t going to stay sad forever. Especially not after you brought this many sweets just for him!

Lucifer was not a happy demon when Simeon arrived at the HoL’s doorstep with you groaning and clutching your stomach. And Solomon took so many pictures of Luke while he passed out from his sugar high that he dedicated a whole album in his phone to it

Favorite activity to do together: Baking! (Obviously)

Trading recipes, shopping for ingredients together, baking things for each other to try (where really it was just to have double the desserts)

When you two are in the kitchen together, no one else is allowed (except for Simeon, but only if he’s looking and not touching). It’s now MC and Luke time, everybody else is gonna have to wait!

Luke only wants you to do the the activities that he sees as harmless: which is everything that doesn’t include sharp items and anything else that can hurt you

“MC get away from that! That can seriously hurt you! Let me get it for you instead!

“Luke, honey, it’s just an oven it’s not my first time using one-”

Too late, he already took it out of your hands into his own, mitts already on

Speaking of oven mitts

You guys have matching aprons and mitts!!

Barbatos may be a little bit jealous, but he likes the bond that you two have. And he knows that Luke won’t be a romantic rival so he’s alright lol

Luke is your deemed protector/bodyguard, and he proudly wears the title since no one bothers you because of him (or so he thinks). Everyone makes fun of him calling him a chihuahua, but jokes on him, when Luke complains, he complains

Won’t take long for Simeon or even one of the brothers to pick up on his whines complaints if he thinks someone is bothering you

Luke believes that while he’s small, he can protect you and try to keep you free from danger. He may be young, but he sees himself as the older brother out of you both (even though it’s really you being the older sibling and him being the baby). Always looking out for you especially since you’re too fragile to be left alone!

You’re one of the only people that genuinely likes him and don’t make fun of him. You’re dear to him MC, please don’t ever change!

Also, he definitely talks to Michael about you all the time so excitedly and sends him sweets that you both made together. Michael is a proud dad at this point

Solomon

Knew you wasn’t a doll but loved to tease you about being one anyway

Was there a spell that can really turn you into a doll? You wouldn’t mind if he tried it out on you, right MC?

Don’t tempt him please because he WILL do it

“Tell me, MC. Hypothetically speaking, if I were to purchase-”

“No Solomon, you can’t shrink me down to fit me into a dollhouse, no matter how nice it sounds. Besides, I can’t bake in a dollhouse, the oven wouldn’t work!”

“I can fix that.”

You’re very amusing to him for some reason. Was it because of how doll-like you are? The fairytale way that you dressed? How you were still human and was able to live with seven of the most powerful demons and not die? Maybe it’s the way that you still radiated such positivity despite being in literal Hell?

Honestly all of the above

TEACHING HIM HOW TO COOK/BAKE

Poor Solomon doesn’t realize that his cooking isn’t...the best

And you took the best approach in helping him atleast cook something that looks edible

You didn’t say his cooking was disgusting like some people (literally everyone else), so he took that you giving him lessons was a date of sorts

He wasn’t complaining. Your time spent in the kitchen was scenes straight of a romcom (no matter how cheesy it sounds); his arms wrapped around your waist and dotting icing on your pretty nose

May or may not have licked some icing off of you at one point, will definitely do it again

Solomon is a very confident man, borderline arrogant (Oh who am I kidding he IS arrogant). So yes, while people may see you as an easy target, he’s here to remind them that you’re not. And that if they want to try, chances are they won’t be walking away in one piece

He’s powerful, too powerful in fact. He may not be the strongest physically, but if even the entire student council recognizes his knowledge and what he’s capable of, no one should be dumb enough to test him (keyword: try)

But he wouldn’t mind showing off if it’s for you

You’re one of the only beings to ever peak Solomon’s interest genuinely. Yes, he loved to tease and bug you whenever he pleased, but you also made him want to come around you more and more. He was drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen a lot with him (at least without ulterior motives)

*coughcough* making pacts *coughcough*

You were the only thing that made Solomon feel weak, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still The Greatest Sorcerer, but he couldn’t help but feel himself get weak in the knees when you gazed at him with so much sincerity. He loves it and loves you

Once your back in the human world, he’s going to be so selfish with you. I mean, he already kinda was now, but this time there won’t be any interruptions or distractions around to take your attention

Us humans have to stick together, and what better way to stick together than to be together, wouldn’t you say MC?

[thewitchandtheassassin]

What Would An Angel Say, The Devil Wants to Know Part Four (Lena Luthor x Reader)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Summary: Why can’t you learn to control your emotions?

Words: 1576

Warnings: Language, angst, talks of violence.

Taglist:  @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami​ @aznblossom​

A/N: So I did a thing. And here we are.

-X-

Planning a demise wasn't terribly time consuming when someone like Lockwood was helping. Dastardly and vile, his ideas were straight to the point as you discussed your options. While you couldn't outright end the human's life with your own hands, he was quick to point out the most effective options that even a great angel like Lena couldn't stop. Cars were too uncertain and, while the elevator had been a good touch, something like that was too preventable.

"You need quick. Abrupt. No possible room for survival," Ben advised, sunglasses obscuring his face despite having no need for them as he eyed the blonde strolling briskly past you, none the wiser of your existences.

"True, but we have to be smart," you added, glancing around in search of Lena's tell: her "heavenly" glimmer.

"Yes, yes, I know. Your little angel is cunning but I think you give her too much credit," Ben replied, his eyes undoubtedly rolling as he sneered at the humans walking along.

Snorting, you jabbed your dagger into his side, ignoring his hiss of pain or the way he swatted at your hand. "No, I'm just not arrogant enough to underestimate her."

Your eyes strayed back to Kara as she slipped back into her office building and then - only then - did you seem the shine of the angel that often haunted your thoughts. The cretins of the earth couldn't see her but you could, her dark locks fluttering in the wind as she gazed back at you pleadingly.

Pieces of you hated her. Truly. Deeply. You would bear marks for the rest of eternity because of her.

But in the same token, you couldn't deny that your memories with her often left your stomach twisted in knots as you reminisced over the smile that made your heart ache. It hurt, remembering how things had once been. Before you were forced to fight with her; fight for your life.

You could see Lena's expression shift the moment it dawned on her who was standing beside you. The way her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, defiantly glaring at the smug demon beside you.

"Uh oh. I think your little angel recognizes me," Ben cackled, fingers curled into a taunting wave.

Snarling your lip, you growled, "She's not my angel, you ass. Now shut up before I cut your fucking tongue out."

Ben clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Testy, testy, (Y/N). Such a killjoy."

Cutting your eyes at him, your grip tightened on your dagger. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

You glanced back over to the building, but Lena was nowhere to be seen.

-X-

Querl studied his ward curiously, occasionally reading whatever Nia was writing though his stare always returned to the woman he was sent to protect. She was so entrancing and for once in his existence, Querl wished to be human again. If only for a day.

So enthralled by Nia, he didn't notice Lena's presence until her voice startled him off the desk he'd been perched on.

"Gods, Lena, you scared me!" he yelped, clutching his chest as he stared at the openly bothered woman.

"Maybe if you had been paying attention to your surroundings and not gawking, you would've noticed me," Lena scolded, though her words held no real bite to them.

"You seem troubled." Querl's brows furrowed together worriedly. "Are you okay?"

Shaking her head, Lena snagged her bottom lip between her teeth before sighing. "No. Complications have arisen and I'm unsure of what's going to happen."

"What complications?"

Peering over at Kara's messy desk, her nostrils flared slightly. "It appears (Y/N) has been given a helper. Lockwood."

Inhaling sharply, Querl's eyes flitted between Nia and Kara. "What should we do?"

"Be watchful. And careful. (Y/N) might have once been a friend but with Lockwood here, we must be vigilant or they'll both be dead before we can stop it."

It was difficult, accepting your new role in her life. Mortal enemies instead of teasing rivals you'd once been. Friends no longer, especially if you were willing to work with him.

A monster in every sense of the word.

"If she's working with him, you need to be careful. This seems way more personal than just an assignment," Querl advised sagely. "I want to believe it isn't but I can't imagine Ben will let this finish without trying to end you. Or having her try to kill you, to prove herself."

Your punishment had been no secret, most of the guardians far too aware of what your friendship with Lena had left you with, the bad blood thick and the scars deep.

"(Y/N) wouldn't..."

"Maybe the old (Y/N) wouldn't but now? Everything is different, Lena. You must accept that. Putting too much faith in her could cost us everything."

Swallowing dryly, the angel nodded. He was right...

She just wished he wasn't.

-X-

"We could always send a helicopter crashing into the building," Ben mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "If that didn't kill the human, surely the building collapsing would."

"That would kill too many others," you argued, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. "We're supposed to be discreet. Dropping a building on a bunch of them definitely wouldn't be discreet."

Lockwood shrugged, completely unbothered by his suggestion. "The human must die. At least we'd know for sure she was dead. Plus Querl's little charge is up there. Two sad, pathetic birds. One mighty stone."

"Not a chance, Woody, pick a new idea."

Ben sneered. He hated that nickname and you knew it, only using it to get under his skin. "Fine."

Smirking at his obvious annoyance, you peered up at the sky absently, noting the darkening clouds. You couldn't remember life as a human (if you'd ever been one to begin with) but you almost wished you could if only to feel the rain on your skin. It seemed like such a peaceful experience, the water trickling over flesh, soaking into clothes instead of rolling off dark wings.

"I'm going to see if I can come up with a better plan," you jeered, heading for the building before he could reply.

Stretching your wings, you kicked off the ground and slowly maneuvered to the floor your mark resided on, eyeing the oblivious blonde through the window. You were well aware you'd be attracting unwanted attention but you couldn't stand being around Ben any longer. If you didn't get a few minutes of space, you were likely to ram your dagger into his throat and send him back to the underworld without his body.

The shift of the air was apparent and you smirked knowingly at Lena's reflection in the glass.

"Stop smirking at me," Lena demanded, arms crossed in frustration.

Snorting, you twisted to face her, brow arching in amusement. "Or what?"

"You're working with Lockwood now?" she questioned, ignoring the challenge hidden in your words. "You hate that spawn of Hell."

You shrugged nonchalantly, peering at the throngs of people below. "He's my ticket to survival."

"He's a slimy coward who wants you dead!"

"Clearly so do you!" you shouted, eyes narrowing into a venomous glare dripping with disdain. "At least he's trying to keep me alive a little longer."

"You're an idiot if you really believe that."

Rolling your eyes, you inched closer to the infuriated woman. "No, I was an idiot thinking you ever cared about me, Lena. At least Lockwood doesn't lie to my face and pretend to be my friend."

"I am your friend!" Lena screamed, the green of her irises dissolving as energy flowed through her. "I don't want you to die!"

As if sensing the tension, the sky went alight with lightning as rain began to flow, startling the humans and hurriedly soaking them to the bone. If only it could wash away the anguish and pain twisting your insides; silence the beasts banging around in your head.

"Bullshit! You pretend to be some pure, precious guardian but you're really just as manipulative and cruel as every other angel. You think that energy of yours makes you above everyone but you're no better than me! And I should've seen that instead of falling in love with some white-winged bitch!" You shoved her, hard, barely containing the want to strangle the guardian who'd ruined you.

Fury washed over you in waves, rendering you heedless of the unwitting admittance that had passed your parted lips, only the sounds of your enraged breathes ringing in your ears. A flurry of emotions crossed Lena's features but you didn't care, simply wanting to either bolt away from the angel or toss her into the sun.

Whichever was easier.

"Y-you're in love with me?" she whispered, the power draining away and leaving behind imploring emeralds that were glassy with something.

The blood drained from your face as you poured through your last words. You had never meant to say that. Because you weren't in love with her. Couldn't be. There was no love in your heart, especially for her.

"I..."

Lena's fingers twitched, the urge to reach out overwhelming as she silently begged you to stay. To help her understand.

"(Y/N)-"

Shaking your head violently, you jerked backward. "No! No, no, no. I don't - I can't - fuck!"

Red lips dipped open but you didn't stay long enough to hear what she had to stay.

Fire erupted...

And then you were gone.

[alreadyblondenow]

Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever,  but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,  

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe)  Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos​ @sunshineleedonghyuck​ 

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.  

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.  

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.  

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.  

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.  

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.  

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”  

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

 I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?  

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”  

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.  

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.  

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.  

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.  

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.  

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.  

[akachaan]

the golden-winged king [xiao]

genre: angst

warnings: death, blood

notes: pls im so proud of this writing BYE

The gentle chirps of birds graced Xiao’s ears. He recognized this as a melody of nature, the sunlight cascading a loving warmth onto his pale skin. Lush and rich grass blew in the breeze, one of the few somethings that Xiao actually appreciated from the Wind Archon. He chuckled breathlessly, a feeling of lighthearted mischief settling upon him. Xiao imagined how Venti would pout and scold him for his unbearably disrespect remarks, as he liked to call them. The grass entwined itself into his gloved hand like a silky ribbon. The light, fluffy clouds passed by, drifting away like dandelion seeds floating in the winds.

Xiao’s legs began to ache— the reason unknown —so he’d sat himself down, assuming he’d been basking in the beauty of the flower field for much too long. Ah, flowers. He’d almost forgotten just how intricately designed they were. Well, as a Guardian Yaksha, there’s only so much you can stop and admire. What were the names of these? The petals were pale blue from the bottom fading into a remarkable teal color, four pastel purple strands sprawling out from the top.

Glaze lilies, he recalled. These flowers only bloom once sung to, yes? He remembers this from a certain... human. He smiles fondly at the thought of them. “Xiao, Xiao!” A familiar and soft voice called. Speak of the devil.

Xiao turned to them, and his breath was caught in his throat. It’s like time slowed down, just for them. Just for him. He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, showing vulnerability he’d been hiding for a millennia. Your shining, soft locks framed your face, [c] eyes shining with love and purity. Xiao had seen skies like an ethereal dream, twinkling like sparklers trapped in the deep cerulean sky... But none of those galaxies and any to come would even compare to your radiant image. You were an angel sent from heaven, one to remind him what life can truly bring upon humanity; people like you.

You were like his little secret of sorts. Not a secret of the world. Anyone could meet or find [Name]. He knew anyone could come and sweep you away from him— though he doesn’t enjoy thinking of such ideas —he knew. It could happen. But, he also knew, and he trusted that you wouldn’t truly leave him, after all they’ve been through. He knew that you confined in him just as he did you, he felt like he was finally certain in his eternity of suffering and emptiness. Days that went by where he felt as if he were just existing. He was not living, he never was. Xiao was simply a guardian, assigned to protect Liyue until he drops dead from exhaustion. He was existing as The Guardian Yaksha, Conquerer of Demons.

But with you, he was not any of those. He was not just existing, watching over a nation til his last breath. Your presence alone made him feel warm. Him feeling was already an achievement in itself, after all these years as standing on the sidelines, secluded; no matter how close to Liyue he physically was, he felt so different and disconnected from his people. He’d only be remembered as tale to be told. The way that you made him feel. Not only have you made him feel, you’ve made him feel warm. A ‘warmth’ that he wishes to bask in for the rest of his existence. Warmth. Xiao knew this wasn’t the word to describe how he truly felt. By definition, yes, Xiao admits, albeit hesitantly. But he couldn’t help but feel it was so much deeper than that. You made him feel a warmth that burned his insides. The feeling had words caught in his throat, he often struggled to form a single coherent sentence when you eyes twinkled with a joy he can’t quite grasp. It made him stutter, the way you looked so blissed and euphoric in his company. He loved it. He loved how the butterflies in his stomach never seized, fluttering and flying with each second. His heart raced like a tiger running after its prey, running at miles per minute. He felt so human. So alive. So loved, and he’s finally experienced what it’s like to love. He never wanted it to end.

You laid yourself onto the luxuriant meadow of nature, the blades of green tickling at your cheek. The sun caressed your skin like a mother would her child, giving you an angelic-like glow. Your eyes had drew closed as you listened to what was around you. Distant animals chirping and buzzing filled your ears along with the synchronized breathing of you and the boy next to you. You smiled, your heart thumping against your chest as savored the peace of this moment.

Xiao turned his head to admire the gift the Archons had given him. He saw how amicable this whole ordeal was and how much you were enjoying it. It wasn’t everyday the two of you had the time to lay down and appreciate each other and what the Earth truly had to offer, though I’m sure that’s been made clear. The soft whisper of his name felt like a melody being sang to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Another sweet murmur of his name was called. And another. And another. Xiao grew worried. With every purr of his name, he could hear desperation and panic in your tone. That alone had him sick to his stomach. He sat up, his eyes now greeted with an all-too-familiar setting.

The sky was dark with stormy clouds, rain thundering heavily onto the bloodstained ground. The air was no longer crisp and clean but instead reeked of the metallic scent of blood and sweat. He could almost taste the blood on his lips. Xiao looked at his hands, dirtied and course with dried ichor. What was once his peaceful escape of serendipity was now a horrid sight of what he used to be. The murderous machine of what he promised himself to cast away since The Archon War. Screams of retreat, pain, defeat and victory mixed in his head, which was now throbbing from the sudden change in scenery. Why was he here?

More importantly, where were you?

“Xiao... Thank god you’re alive.” Your broken voice chuckled, growing dryer in the passing seconds. His head snapped to you, who was laying on the floor, absolutely beaten up. His heart ached at the sight, and he reached to gently cup your face, as if one wrong move could completely shatter you. You gasped for air before continuing, “I knew you would survive. There’s,” You paused to cough harshly, your body crumbling as the cough was let out, “no way the Xiao I know would loose to anyone.” He pulled you closer to his lap, panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew there was nothing he could do. But he still tried. He still tried to grasp onto what little hope he had left; it was all happening too quickly.

“Hang on. I’ve got you, okay?” He choked out after the initial shock. The time you have left and the time he would be able to get you proper medical attention were so obviously not in his favor. He picked you up, carrying you on his back. And he just ran. His legs moved like he was going to die if he didn’t hurry. Quite frankly, he would most definitely die emotionally. Xiao couldn’t loose you. Not now, not ever. He wanted to live with you until your died of old age, peacefully where you could’ve smiled on your deathbed. He remembers how you used to get mad at him for carrying you like this. The way your cheeks heated up and you buried your face into his neck always got a goofy smile on his face. But now, you were clinging onto his back as best you could— though it was a loose grip, you used what energy you had left in you to let him know you were still there with him.

But soon, too soon, you wouldn’t be, and you both knew it. “Xiao,” you called weakly.

“I said hang on. I’ll get you medical help soon. Please, keep your eyes open. You still have time.”

“Xiao...”

“You can’t leave me like this. I swore to hold you and protect you and love you for the rest of my life. Out of the many promise I’ve broken I can’t... I can’t break this one.”

“Xiao, listen...” The utter amount of suffering in your voice tore him apart more than the searing pains in his limbs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time no matter how fast he ran. So he obliged to your request and set you in his lap once again. He stared at your face, covered in dirt and scars. Yet you still looked at beautiful as ever.

“Please. Don’t go. I won’t know what to do without you.”

“I’m always here with you even if...” You trailed off, both from the lack of oxygen you had and the discomfort of finishing your own sentence. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, as you saw Xiao in such a vulnerable and tormented state. “Xiao...”

He caressed your face like a mother would her child. The sting of his heart drowned any physical injuries he had. Nothing would hurt more than the thought of losing you. The grass scratched at your cheek, and you winced at the feeling. Xiao tucked a hair strand behind your ear. As he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Xiao... You are and forever will be my Golden-Winged King.”

And that was when the tears spilled. Your body went cold and limp in his own very hands, your eyes that shone with love and purity where now dark and lifeless. The smile that lit up his world was gone; replaced with a face of sorrow eternally etched onto your features. Xiao wondered. Death was a pitiful punishment, yet somehow so enchanting. You still looked as heavenly as ever. It was only then the pain of truly losing you settled in. You were never going to grace his ears with your melodic voice. You were never going to grace his eyes with your smile. You were never going to grace his senses with your adoring hugs.

You were never to grace his life again.

The Golden-Winged King had a fall from grace, just as you did in his own very arms.

[tcm]

Interview with Richard Benjamin on Making Comedy Look Easy in MY FAVORITE YEAR (’82) By Donald Leibenson

To hear Richard Benjamin tell it, MY FAVORITE YEAR was a charmed production. For his first film as a director, he had been looking for a comedy (“I’m just kind of bent that way,” he jokes) and the stars aligned to bring him a script that, he says, was everything he knew. He had Mel Brooks as the film’s guardian angel. He had a bona-fide movie star that his wife, Paula Prentiss, recommended after another actor regretfully declined the film’s plum role. And he heeded Carl Reiner, who gave him succinct advice about making a comedy: “Get funny people.”

Which he did. The film is character actor heaven, with Joseph Bologna, Anne de Salvo, Selma Diamond, Adolph Green, Basil Hoffman, Lainie Kazan and Bill Macy.

MY FAVORITE YEAR is set in the mid-1950s when television was live and comedy was king. Mark Linn-Baker stars as Benjy Stone, a young comedy writer on a variety show reminiscent of Your Show of Shows, where he ardently pursues the show’s not-amused production assistant (Jessica Harper). During one life-changing week, he is assigned to chaperone the show’s guest star, his idol, former swashbuckling screen hero, Alan Swann (Peter O’Toole in an Oscar-nominated performance), who has a penchant for drink, womanizing and otherwise behaving badly. 

Benjamin spoke with TCM about casting O’Toole, trying to pin down Mel Brooks and why you should never end a comedy in a graveyard.

To quote Alan Swann’s great line, dying is easy, comedy is hard. With MY FAVORITE YEAR, you make it look so easy. How did the project come to you?

Paula and I were in New York. My agent, David Gersh, sent the script by Norman [Steinberg] and Dennis [Palumbo, credited as co-writer due to the Screen Writers Guild arbitration]. I remember reading it in the hotel room and as I finished, I said, ‘This is everything I know.’ I was in high school when Your Show of Shows was on. I would get on the phone with my friend Shelley Berger, who I am still close to, and we would do all these routines they had done on the show on Saturday night. I grew up loving Errol Flynn and those swashbuckling movies. I had also worked at 30 Rockefeller Plaza [the film’s setting] as an NBC page and guide, and I knew every inch of that place. [The script] was right up my alley, as they say.

Brooksfilms produced the film, and Mel Brooks was a writer on Your Show of Shows. Did he serve as the film’s guardian angel or offer any input?

Guardian angel’s good. He kept saying he would give Norman and I two full days to sit down and go over the script to see if we could make it even funnier. The truth of the matter is that the script didn’t need much of anything, but he promised that. Trying to get Mel to stop moving is a feat. We went to his house, and he invited us in and then said he was going out. He said he had to walk the dog. Then he comes back, and he said he had to go, that there was a crisis at Fox. I said, ‘No there’s not,’ and he said, ‘Well, there could be.’ So, what he ended up giving us was two hours, but it was a great two hours. And the next thing you know, he was gone.

But Norman and I came up with one of the best jokes in the movie while we were standing in his driveway watching him drive away. It’s the one where Swann falls off the roof and plummets past the two elitist guys. And one says, ‘I think Alan Swann’s beneath us,’ and the other guy says, ‘Of course he’s beneath us, he’s an actor.’

I cannot imagine anyone but Peter O’Toole as Alan Swann. Was he the first choice?

Albert Finney had been offered the role, but he had not committed. He was up in Sausalito making SHOOT THE MOON [’82]. They told me I had to go up there and convince him to do the film; otherwise they couldn’t make the movie. The list of people M-G-M would go with was very short, because who are you going to believe with a sword in their hands? So, I’m on this mission, because if he says yes, I’m going to get to make a movie. We arranged to have lunch together. He’s completely charming. I get ready to ask the question – which could change my life, by the way: ‘Will you do it?’ He said, ‘Well…,’ and I could tell it was going to be a no. He thought the script was really good, but he had done two or three movies in a row and he said he wanted to get back to the theater. Then he said to me, ‘Why don’t you get O’Toole?’ He said, ‘We do this all the time. I turn something down, he does it, he turns something down, I do it.’ When I got back home, Paula who had made WHAT’S NEW PUSSYCAT? [’65] with Peter, said, ‘Get Peter. He is perfect for this.’ Finney said it, Paula said it. And I asked [co-producer] Michael Gruskoff if M-G-M would make the film with O’Toole, and Michael said yes.  

What was the meeting with Peter like?

(Laughs) That meeting! That meeting was quite something. First of all, we couldn’t find him. We could tell we had the right person because the behavior was just like the character. He had a farm in Ireland with no phone. You had to call this pub to get a message to him. I called the pub and they said Peter wasn’t there. His agent didn’t know where he was. I called his manager and said, ‘We’re trying to find your client.’ He said, ‘He’s at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. He’s been here for a week.’ 

So, I’m actually talking to Peter O’Toole, and he said he had heard about the project and to send him a script and we would get together the next day. I go over and there he is in a beautiful suite wearing a smoking jacket; he is the character. He said, ‘Here’s the thing…’ and I thought, ‘Here we go again.’ He said he liked it very much, but he hadn’t read the last ten pages and to please indulge him and he would call tomorrow. The next day, on the dot, he called and he said to turn to the last page of the script.

Now, in the original script, there’s a scene which I shot that would have played after what’s in the movie. It took place in a Hollywood cemetery, and Benjy is walking past the gravestones. He says in voiceover that Alan Swann made him promise he would do something on his birthday every year. Alan has passed away, and Benjy comes to his grave, kneels down and pours a bottle of Courvoisier over the tombstone. That’s what’s on the last page. Peter asked me to read the date that was on the tombstone. It was Aug. 2. He said, ‘Aug. 2 is my birthday; did you know that?’ I asked Norman if he knew that, and Norman said no, he had made it up. And Peter says, ‘Therefore, I must do the film.’

What happened to that scene?

I was terribly reluctant to take that out because Peter did the movie because of it. But people at M-G-M said I couldn’t end a comedy in a cemetery. We had two audience screenings, one with that ending and one without it. In the screening with it, the audience enjoyed the picture, but the scene put a pall over things. Then we had the screening without it and the audience was very enthusiastic and very up as they came out.

How did you find Mark Linn-Baker?

Our casting director Ellen Chenoweth said the first person to get was Mark Linn-Baker. Mark came in and read and was terrific. I said, ‘This is my first movie, I can’t cast the first person who walks in here.’ I saw maybe 25 to 35 more—some really good people—but she was right, so after all of that, I said to get him.

Peter and Mark had great chemistry.

They seemed to hit it off right away, but later, back in L.A. after we shot the long scene on the roof, which played like a mini-farce, Peter came up to me and said, ‘I like the lad, you cast him well.’

Was Peter game for the physical stunts?

I couldn’t stop him from doing them! The bathroom scene required him to fall headfirst into the wall. I came to him before we shot and I said, ‘The camera is so close, I can’t pad this wall.’ He said, ‘I was brought up in music hall. I can do this all day. Don’t concern yourself.’

Director Howard Hawks once said that a good movie was three or four good scenes and no bad scenes. I lose count watching MY FAVORITE YEAR of how many great scenes there are in it. Between those driven by comic banter, the TV sketches, the physical comedy scenes, the quieter romantic scenes and even the dramatic confrontations, did you have a favorite type to direct?

I can’t say there was a favorite. It’s all of a piece. I will tell you that one of the scenes I like is in the Stork Club and getting to do something that reminded me of all these kinds of wonderful comic movies I loved growing up. I do remember that one of the first things we shot was the scene in Central Park where Alan Swann mounts the horse. It just seemed to lack energy. And I was thinking, ‘I have to go tell Peter O’Toole that he has to pick up the pace and it has to be lighter.’ I went up to him and said, ‘It’s good, but…’ and before I could finish, he said, ‘You want it faster and funnier.’ I said, ‘You’ve got it,’ and he said, ‘And you shall have it.’ And I thought, ‘This directing thing is not so hard.’ (laughs)

Were there directors you worked with as an actor who particularly inspired you when you became a director? For example, you worked with one of the best, Mike Nichols.

Mike, yes. He directed me in the national company of Barefoot in the Park and [the film] CATCH-22 [’70]. Mike’s thing was he’d come up to you very quietly and say, ‘Just like in real life.’ That was his main thing. It meant that there should be no ‘acting’ here; your character responds to situations as they would in life. It’s like what [critic] Walter Kerr once said about Neil Simon’s jokes: They have the truth in them. This is what funny people know: You can’t try to get a laugh, because you won’t get it.  

At one point, Alan Swann says that doing the TV show was the most fun and the hardest work since the world was young. Was that what making MY FAVORITE YEAR was like for you?

It was the most fun, there’s no question of that. It was a magical experience because of the screenplay and everyone involved. Everyone’s game came up because of Peter. You don’t need many takes with him, that’s for sure. But how all of this came about and got to the point where I would be offered this, and what has to happen in your life to come to that moment – you can’t make it up. And when that moment comes, you’re hopefully ready. I was really fortunate.