#angels too pure and good for this world | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solxamber · 20 days ago

Text

Trash Novel Chronicles: My Consort Calls Me Shrimpy || Floyd Leech

You get isekaid into a novel where the perfect Empress got absolutely wrecked by the plot, and now you have to juggle a bland heroine, a traitorous consort, and a delightfully unhinged eel who’s oddly good at solving your problems.

Series Masterlist

You’re about three hours deep in line, squashed between a woman wearing an unsettling amount of dragon-themed jewelry and some dude intensely vaping in front of you. The line inches forward at the pace of continental drift, and you’re in no mood to be here.

You're here out of pure, misguided loyalty to your best friend, who’s practically shaking with excitement at the idea of meeting their favourite author—the world-renowned queen of girlboss fantasy.

In a valiant effort to distract yourself from your eternal boredom, you pull up her previous novels on your phone. Maybe, if you understood her work better, you’d understand why people would willingly spend this many hours standing on asphalt.

After skimming through some of her top titles, you can barely believe these are real book plots: Slaying the Patriarchy with My Stilettos? Lipstick and Blood Magic? Each one more ridiculous than the last, filled with protagonists who blast their enemies with a "feminine fury" and, honestly, you're just not buying it.

Why did I agree to this? you think, suppressing the urge to gnaw on your own hand out of boredom.

Suddenly, you spot a stray bird above—a pigeon, wobbling through the sky like it's had one too many lattes. You barely register the bird's existence until it lets out an alarming squawk and, in a tragic twist of fate, plummets from the heavens right towards your head.

In a perfect shot, it bonks you directly in the face, knocking you backward with an impressively dramatic flair. You spiral down, your vision blurring as you fall in slow motion, gasping.

In the last seconds of your consciousness, as chaos erupts around you, one solemn thought echoes through your mind: I hate pigeons.

And with that, you drift off into oblivion, serenaded by the panicked cries of your best friend and the distant wail of someone’s Lipstick and Blood Magic audiobook playing on full blast nearby.

You wake up, blink, and immediately realize that your bed is both way too luxurious and way too large. Rich, velvet curtains drape around you, shimmering with gold embroidery.

A chandelier overhead sparkles with enough jewels to fund at least three public libraries. The air smells like a mixture of incense, rose petals, and maybe faint hints of… burning tyranny?

Oh, dear God. You’ve been isekai’d.

Straight into that novel you were doom-scrolling through to survive the crushing boredom of line-waiting.

Your mind reels back to the summary you’d read. The heroine, a weepy maid with all the emotional range of wet toast. The consort, a charming traitor with “dreamy eyes” who betrays his own Empress for said toast. And then, of course, the villainess.

That poor, genius Empress who actually had talent and ambition, who could annihilate anyone with a flick of her wrist and yet was somehow destined to lose it all because of a love triangle involving a glorified housekeeper.

And now—you are that Empress. The Villainess Extraordinaire, Scourge of Kingdoms, War-Waging Prodigy, Mary Sue on Steroids… and now you're stuck in this tragic play of bad romance tropes.

You shoot upright in bed, taking it all in. Lavish room. Silk sheets. Jewels littered around like confetti. And then you notice a presence by your bedside. You whip your head to see… her. The heroine.

She's standing there, looking down at you with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who hasn’t yet discovered a single personality trait. Her face is soft, angelic, and you already know that beneath those doe eyes lies… absolutely nothing.

She's here to dress you, a task that apparently requires thirty minutes of excessive hair-braiding, enough layers to construct a mattress, and endless, mind-numbing conversation about the consort.

Oh, right. The consort. Your dear, disloyal boy toy who’ll soon be scheming against you. He’s probably off somewhere sharpening his cheekbones in a mirror, wondering if he can pull off “soulful yet traitorous” in the same expression.

The heroine starts tugging on your hair, a bit too enthusiastically for your taste. "Your Majesty," she coos, “Your consort was asking for you yesterday. He misses your attention."

You mentally scream. I'm running an empire, Susan! Who cares about his feelings right now? You're barely awake, freshly isekai'd, and trying to mentally tally your enemies, not exactly in the mood for his fragile ego.

And, technically, aren’t you the one in need of support here? Not the consort, who apparently needs a throne, a palace, and a shoulder to cry on every two hours.

"Oh," you manage to reply, voice dripping with an irritation that you pray she interprets as imperial grace. "Tell him… I’m thinking about military reforms."

The heroine’s eyes flicker in confusion. "Military reforms?"

"Yes. Reforms. Vital to the stability of our empire." You wave a hand, and she clearly has no idea what you're talking about. This maid was not hired for her intellectual curiosity, that’s for sure.

Then comes the worst part: her doe eyes start misting over. Great. You forgot. Crying is, apparently, her most crucial skill set. She clutches a sleeve to her chest, looking at you as if you’ve announced the arrival of a natural disaster. "Your Majesty… but what about your consort?"

You take a deep breath. Focus. How did this woman end up so crucial to the plot? What was it about her that was supposed to outshine an entire empire? It’s as if she’s constructed entirely from damp tissues and vague romantic inclinations. And this is the girl who’s going to take you down?

But you’re already devising a plan. You’ll keep tabs on her. Outwardly, you’ll play the role of the intimidating yet graceful Empress, while inwardly making sure that neither she nor the consort gets a single chance to stab you in the back. And as for the consort himself…

Well, when he finally arrives for his “audience,” you’ll be sure to give him the warmest, most menacing smile in your arsenal. For now, you’ll have to endure the heroine’s dramatic sniffles and the hundred layers of fabric she’s convinced you need.

As she fiddles with a particularly elaborate golden sash, you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “Tell me,” you say, feigning curiosity. “What would you do if the palace were to… burn down?”

Her face goes blank for a second. Then, she frowns and wrinkles her nose as if this question is somehow unsolvable. “Um… cry?”

Of course. Absolutely riveting. You sigh and try to look satisfied, which is hard when you’re mentally questioning how this woman has a heartbeat, let alone plot armor thick enough to take you down.

By the time she finishes with your dress, you've already come up with about sixteen ways to save the empire and seventy-two reasons why this love triangle is absolutely ridiculous.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re the picture of beauty and deadly grace, an unstoppable Empress who could wield the fate of kingdoms.

And they want to reduce you to a footnote in the saga of this girl’s whimpering romance?

Well, that’s not happening. You’ve read the novel; you know how this story ends. And now that you’re here, you’re rewriting that ridiculous fate.

You try to keep a dignified expression, but inside, you’re screaming.

The entire reason you’ve gathered the harem is to graciously cut them loose and rid yourself of the ongoing melodrama. Because if there are no consorts, there’s no backstabbing love triangle, no tearful betrayals, and no doomed political coups.

You can practically taste the freedom already—so you clear your throat and begin, putting on your most diplomatic voice:

"Esteemed consorts,” you say, hands clasped. “Thank you for your service and devotion. You are now free to leave and may claim land and titles if you wish to remain in the empire.”

You pause, waiting for cheers or at least some relieved sighs. Instead, dead silence. You glance around and spot the heroine sneaking glances at the traitor consort, eyes brimming with pure unadulterated… something.

She looks like she’s five seconds away from throwing herself across a fainting couch. The consort looks at her for a moment and then back at you, entirely unimpressed.

Maybe they’re just in shock, you think, trying to keep it together. Maybe they need a moment to process the incredible gift of freedom you’ve just given them.

But then, from the back of the room, someone clears their throat—Floyd Leech. He raises his hand, a gleeful glint in his eye that makes your stomach churn.

See, Floyd was not a character that should’ve belonged in this novel. The man was unhinged. Slightly terrifying, if you’re being honest. He treated warfare like a casual hobby and had a grin that said I could absolutely cause problems on purpose.

And the worst part? Floyd was actually one of the few who stuck around in the original plot. After the Empress dies on the battlefield, he takes her body back to his home country, out of sheer love.

He's also the only one who got to call the Empress Regnant herself "Shrimpy" and lived to tell the tale. You'd swoon over the romantic implications if you weren't that same Empress who had bigger problems right now.

You steel yourself. “Yes, Floyd?”

“Can I stay?” he says, looking entirely too happy. “These other guys are boring, but you’re kinda fun to watch.” He stares at you like you’re some sort of exotic animal in a zoo. “Besides,” he adds, throwing an arm over a very uncomfortable-looking consort, “who’s gonna protect you if I leave? These losers?”

God help you.

Before you can even answer, the traitor consort steps forward, expression so intense you can feel it from across the hall. He clears his throat dramatically. “My Empress,” he says, taking a deep, tragic breath. “My heart is bound to you, like—like the tides to the moon. Like—”

In the background, the heroine lets out an audible, swooning sigh. Oh, please, you think. You’ve seen better monologues in toothpaste commercials. The consort glances at the heroine, clearly confused, then goes back to gazing at you with what he probably thinks is soulful longing.

Meanwhile, Floyd is grinning at him, shark-like. “Nice speech, buddy,” he says, clapping the guy on the back hard enough that the consort nearly goes sprawling. “But I think she liked mine better.” He leans in to whisper, loudly, “Besides, I bet you don’t even know her favorite food.”

The consort’s face scrunches. “Do you?”

“Nope!” Floyd beams, looking at you as if expecting some kind of reward. “But I’m gonna figure it out.”

The consort looks like he wants to protest, but before he can, another one of the harem—Lord Something-or-Other—steps forward, visibly shaking with emotion. He kneels, clutching a hand to his heart as if he’s about to propose.

“My Empress,” he says, voice wobbling with way too much sincerity. “Without you, my life is a barren wasteland. I would rather endure the endless, scorching sands of—”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Floyd groans. “Do you guys hear yourselves?”

“Can you not mock me while I pour my heart out?” Lord Something-or-Other snaps back.

“Sure I can. I’m multi-talented,” Floyd replies with a grin that’s somehow both playful and threatening. He leans against the throne, looking completely at home while you fight the urge to dive out the nearest window.

Now everyone’s in a frenzy. Every last one of these men—your so-called “consorts”—are lining up to deliver heartfelt soliloquies, tragic metaphors, and similes so flowery they might as well be a bouquet. You can barely keep a straight face as the next one steps forward, proclaiming that he would “gladly suffer a thousand winters if only to see her smile.”

As if on cue, the heroine wipes a tear from her eye, sighing dreamily. The consort she’s apparently in love with looks at her again, this time with an expression somewhere between pity and terror. But she doesn’t seem to notice, too busy whispering to herself, “Oh, how romantic…”

And then Floyd leans down and whispers in your ear, voice gleeful. “Y’know, if you let ‘em keep going, they might just start fighting each other for you. Free entertainment. Whaddaya think?”

You feel a headache coming on. “Floyd, please, I’m begging you—”

“What?” he asks, grinning wider. “I thought this was fun. C’mon, Empress,” he drawls, giving the title an absurd little flourish. “Let me stay. I promise I won’t let any of these guys stage a rebellion.” He smirks at the traitor consort. “Unless you feel like rebelling, huh?”

The traitor consort scoffs, bristling. “Unlike some of us,” he says, glaring at Floyd, “my devotion is genuine.”

“And boring,” Floyd mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Fine, Floyd. You can stay,” you say, hoping that giving him what he wants will end this disaster. You’re immediately filled with regret as his grin widens.

“Awesome! And you know what? Since everyone’s so devoted, why don’t we all stay? Make it a real party.” Floyd tosses an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the death glares from half the room.

Now you’re stuck with fifteen poets, one unhinged eel, and a heroine who’s still making heart eyes at a man who clearly isn’t interested. And as you sit there, feeling your last shreds of sanity slip away, you think, This is going to be a very, very long reign.

You’re making your way through the moonlit palace corridors, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the… experience that spending the night with Floyd Leech is sure to be.

Mostly, you’ve chosen him because, unhinged or not, he’s at least the most loyal out of this whole ridiculous lineup. Plus, there’s a kind of chaotic charm about him, like a very large, very untrained puppy with fangs.

But before you can even make it to his side palace, you’re intercepted.

“My Empress…” It’s the traitor consort. You sigh as he blocks your path, looking like he’s about to burst into tears. He’s clutching his chest dramatically, as if he’s seconds from fainting, and his voice wobbles with pure tragedy.

“Do you not love me anymore?” he blubbers, eyes shining with tears. “Why do you never choose me? Have I done something wrong? Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve graced my chambers?” He’s practically sobbing at this point, clutching at your sleeves like some tragic hero in a soap opera.

You stand there, blinking. “Uh… dude. I… what? ”

He looks at you with the heartbreak of a thousand rom-coms. “I thought you cared about me. I thought I meant something to you…”

You’re trying to process what exactly is happening (and failing spectacularly) when you hear an all-too-familiar voice.

“Yoo-hoo~!” Floyd’s voice echoes down the hall as he appears at the other end, looking like he’s just won the lottery. He practically skips toward you, a grin stretched across his face, his shark-like teeth glinting in the moonlight.

“Shrimpy!” he calls out cheerfully, giving you an exaggerated wave. But his cheerful demeanor drops like a rock the moment he sees the traitor consort clinging to you, tears streaming down his face.

Floyd’s grin turns into a much darker smirk, and his eyes narrow dangerously. He tilts his head, sizing up the blubbering man like he’s something he might enjoy crunching on for a midnight snack.

“Oi,” Floyd says, stepping closer, voice dropping into a lower, much more menacing tone. “What’re you doin’, crybaby? Gettin’ all snotty in front of my Shrimpy? That doesn’t seem real respectful, y’know?”

The traitor consort pales instantly, his tear-streaked face going from tragic to terrified in half a second flat. “I—I was just…” he stammers, trying to find an escape route.

“You were just what?” Floyd grins, but there’s absolutely nothing friendly about it now. “You got somethin’ you wanna say to her? ‘Cause I could help you say it better, y’know.” He cracks his knuckles for emphasis, and you swear the traitor consort’s soul nearly leaves his body.

And you? You’re exhausted. Normally, you’re pretty sure the original Empress would step in, say something appropriately royal and dignified to diffuse the situation. But at this point? You’re too tired to deal with either of them, and honestly, watching Floyd scare this guy senseless is a little too satisfying. So you just sigh and cross your arms, waiting it out.

“Look, I— I didn’t mean anything by it,” the traitor consort mutters, eyes darting between Floyd’s unsettling grin and your unimpressed stare. “I’ll… I’ll just go…”

And before you know it, he’s stumbling off, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to escape Floyd’s glare. You can still hear his sniffles echoing down the hall as he disappears.

Floyd watches him go, then turns back to you with an exaggerated pout. “He didn’t even say bye. Rude, huh?” Then, just as quickly, his mood switches back, and he gives you a toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy! Let’s go. You’re finally here!”

And without another word, he loops an arm around you, practically dragging you the rest of the way to his palace. By the time you arrive, you’re half-expecting him to start a monologue or make a big romantic speech, but instead, he plops down on the massive, plush couch, pulling you down next to him with surprising gentleness.

“There we go! See? Ain’t this way better than dealin’ with crybabies?” He laughs, leaning back and throwing an arm over your shoulders.

You give him a look. “Do you actually scare all of them off on purpose?”

Floyd grins, showing all his teeth. “Only the boring ones.” He taps his temple like he’s sharing some brilliant secret. “Can’t have anyone else thinkin’ they’re more special than me, right?”

Honestly, you’re too tired to argue. So you just lean back, letting Floyd prattle on about his grand plans for “getting rid of the competition.” At least, you think to yourself, you’ve successfully survived another day of being Empress.

The banquet table stretches out in front of you, each seat filled by one of your fifteen consorts, who are locked in an elaborate battle of “who’s the cutest?” You watch, sipping your wine like it’s medicinal, as they coo, flirt, and — at least in one unfortunate case — attempt a juggling act.

A consort on your left even starts singing a heartfelt ballad he very obviously wrote himself. You silently make a note to ask Heroine if it’s possible to declare some sort of moratorium on public serenades.

Just when you think the evening can’t get any more surreal, the doors burst open. Floyd strides in, late as usual, with all the grace and subtlety of a pirate commandeering the dinner table.

Without breaking stride, he makes a beeline for the coveted King Consort chair, ignoring the man who’s been trying to occupy it and who now looks as if he’s about to faint.

Floyd’s “gentle” suggestion to move aside comes in the form of a rather forceful nudge, and the poor consort goes skidding two seats down, clutching his untouched plate of tiny hors d’oeuvres.

Floyd plops into the seat, throws his legs up on the table, and proceeds to grab a handful of grapes like he’s claiming territory.

Instantly, fifteen men start having what can only be described as a collective meltdown. One consort gapes at Floyd, cheeks puffing like an indignant chipmunk; another begins audibly hyperventilating. Somewhere on the far end of the table, a man has already shed a single, dramatic tear.

Your maid Heroine sidles up to you, wide-eyed. She whispers loudly, as if she’s sharing a forbidden secret, “Your Majesty! You’ve broken their hearts!”

You stare at her, bewildered. “How? By letting Floyd sit down?”

Heroine nods, lip quivering. “They think you’ve… chosen! That’s the King Consort’s seat!”

“What? ” You glance at Floyd, who’s now lying back, casually chomping on a drumstick he must have acquired from who-knows-where. He doesn’t seem perturbed in the least.

“Yes!” Heroine sniffles, pulling out a lacy handkerchief. “It’s the sacred chair of royal favoritism!” She dabs at her eyes, gazing at you with something akin to heartbreak. “And here I thought you were a romantic.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” You rub your temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I just wanted a quiet dinner!”

One of the consorts, evidently hearing this, begins to wail, “But why, Your Majesty? We loved you!” It’s clear he’s already going to be composing several tragic stanzas about this moment.

Then Floyd — who’s been watching this entire scene with the amused look of someone who’s just discovered he’s won the jackpot — clears his throat, aiming a rather shark-like grin at Heroine. “Hey, little miss servant girl,” he says, his voice sugary sweet with a terrifying edge. “Maybe stop making Shrimpy feel guilty, hmm? Unless you want to join ‘em in the Royal Seat Shuffle?”

Heroine squeaks, as if he’s just offered to turn her into a garden gnome, and stammers an apology, hands fluttering as she edges away.

In the silence that follows, you decide enough is enough. “Thank you all for coming,” you announce, giving your consorts a forced smile. “This has been… lovely. But we’re done for tonight.”

The consorts hesitate, as if they want to protest. But when Floyd gives them one of his very special grins — the kind that says he just might take a whole different seat next — they practically stampede out of the dining hall, leaving behind a trail of emotional debris: teardrops, wilted roses, and a half-eaten plate of pastries.

As the door closes, Floyd leans back with a smirk, throwing an arm casually over the back of his new favorite chair. “So, looks like Shrimpy’s all mine tonight.”

You chuckle, half-exasperated, half-relieved. “Well, seems you chased everyone else off.”

“Don’t be like that,” he purrs, clearly pleased. “You know, you’re different now. Last time, you’d have been practically begging those guys to come back.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’m just too tired to care anymore.”

He leans in, gaze softening. “Nah. You’ve just gotten tougher. And it looks good on you. The new Shrimpy’s got a spine.”

You smile, almost despite yourself, as Floyd raises his glass, winking. “To the new Shrimpy: long may she rule.”

The annual Talent Showcase Extravaganza for the Empress’s Affections has begun, and your consorts are pouring every ounce of drama and flair they possess into their performances, each desperate to secure that exclusive week at the countryside villa with you.

Unfortunately, it seems that the traitor consort — Mr. ‘I-know-the-theme-because-Heroine-can’t-resist-my-cheekbones’ — is dominating the competition. He’s wowing the audience with a perfectly themed tapestry, and you can already hear the maid giggling over in his cheering section.

This calls for drastic action.

You glance over to where Floyd is occupying himself by tormenting a pair of unfortunate ministers with tales of his more “creative” fishing techniques. With a sigh, you snap your fingers. He looks over, feigning annoyance at being interrupted in what he surely sees as “Minister Horror Story Hour.”

“Shrimpy, what gives? This is the first fun I’ve had since I got here,” he says, hands on his hips.

You clear your throat. “Actually, Floyd, I need you to… win this competition.”

He raises an eyebrow, incredulous. “What, by doing some fancy painting or something? Boring. If you want something painted, Shrimpy, I’ll fish out an octopus to do it for me.”

You take a deep breath. “If you do this, I’ll grant you any wish you want. Plus… an extra reward.”

Floyd pauses, smirking as he steps closer, his voice dropping into an exaggerated whisper. “Any wish, huh? Dangerous promise, Shrimpy.”

You raise an eyebrow, undeterred. “You in or not?”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he sighs. “Fine. But I’m not painting. I’ve got something much better planned. Just try not to faint in awe, yeah?”

When Floyd finally unveils his “masterpiece,” the room falls silent. Somehow, he’s cobbled together a mosaic made entirely out of shiny rocks he probably pilfered from the palace’s prize garden.

The piece is of you, looking bold and triumphant, wielding what can only be described as a “battle spoon” against some sea monster (you’re guessing it’s supposed to be a shark, but it might just be a rock that looked vaguely fish-like).

“Ta-da!” Floyd announces, throwing his arms out. “The Empress: Rock ‘n’ Roll Edition. I call it, ‘Shrimpy, Queen of the Waves.’”

Despite yourself, you’re mildly… no, very swoony. Somehow, it’s both absurd and… kind of amazing. Floyd’s grin is pure mischief as he winks at you. “Like it, Shrimpy? Don’t worry, I can make one for the garden too.”

But your moment is interrupted by a loud sniffle from across the room. The traitor consort, clearly irate at being outshone, is tearing up, looking at you with big, watery eyes as if you’re the villain in this scenario. Heroine looks one step away from bolting to his side, but he raises a hand, his voice trembling as he murmurs, “No, I only want the Empress to comfort me.”

You shoot a silent plea to the universe, practically chanting, “Please, mercy, mercy…”

Floyd, never one to ignore an opportunity, steps up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Sorry, bud. Shrimpy’s already spoken for tonight. You’ll have to get in line. Oh, and try not to tear up over her rock portrait, yeah? Not all of us can handle the majesty.”

The crowd erupts in applause, one point to you and Floyd — and you’re pretty sure Heroine’s sulking in the corner, still staring longingly at the sobbing traitor consort, but that’s a future problem. For now, you’ve got a mildly unhinged art piece to hang up and a certain mischievous consort to thank.

It’s another late night in the study when you notice the Heroine, your ever-loyal (if not a little clueless) maid, lingering by the doorway, watching you with an odd expression. At first, you chalk it up to her usual eccentricities. But as the minutes tick by, she doesn’t move, just stands there with a faraway look in her eyes. Finally, you set down your work and gesture for her to come in.

“Hey,” you say gently, “what’s on your mind?”

She hesitates, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “It’s nothing, really…” Then, in a small voice, “It’s just… I never got to study like this.”

Your brow furrows, and as she opens up, the full picture starts to form. The Heroine, despite her noble blood, was barred by her father from studying—her dreams of an education crushed under his outdated beliefs.

She clung to the traitor consort, she confesses, because he seemed like an escape, even if a flimsy one. He was a nobleman with some level of authority, and for her, he felt like the only ticket to a different life.

Understanding sinks in. It’s not love she feels for him at all. It’s desperation, something almost like a distorted version of Stockholm syndrome.

She’s convinced herself he’s her only way out, though it’s clear as day that he doesn’t deserve her loyalty. The man’s barely got two brain cells, but he’s got freedom—and for her, he must have looked like her only way out.

The realization hits you hard, like finding out your favorite dessert is made with broccoli. No wonder she’s been swooning over that guy. She’s not “in love”—she’s just starved for any path out of her cage. Your heart softens, and you give her a gentle, if slightly exasperated, smile.

“Well, that won’t do,” you say firmly. “How about this? I’ll teach you myself. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll get you the education you deserve.”

Her face goes through a series of hilarious expressions, from shock to joy to the kind of wide-eyed, wobbly-lipped excitement normally reserved for puppies seeing their owner after a long day. And so, your lessons begin.

Over the next few weeks, you teach the Heroine to read, and she devours each lesson like a kid in a candy store. She’s throwing herself into her education with such energy, it’s like she’s forgotten the traitor consort entirely.

And you’re thrilled—partly for her growth and partly because it means your coup odds have just dropped by a solid 90%.

Soon, Heroine’s loyalty to you is ironclad, her former starry-eyed infatuation with the traitor consort completely extinguished. You’re so relieved you could dance, and, maybe more importantly, you realize that the kingdom’s other daughters deserve the same chance.

In a flash of imperial inspiration, you draft a new law requiring all daughters, noble or otherwise, to attend the academy. The state will foot the bill, so no one has an excuse to hold their daughters back.

Later that night, feeling unexpectedly sentimental, you return to your room to find Floyd sprawled on your bed, grinning like he’s just heard the world’s juiciest gossip.

“You look smug,” you say, arching an eyebrow.

“Nah, just… pleased,” he drawls, giving you that signature mischievous smirk. And before you know it, he pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug, his arms wrapping around you with unexpected warmth. “Look at my Shrimpy, changing the world one law at a time.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks despite yourself. “Oh, stop it,” you mutter, though you don’t pull away.

He chuckles, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “Nah. You’re doing great, Empress. I’m proud of you.”

You’re speechless. Floyd? Sentimental? But as he holds you, laughing at your stunned expression, you can’t help but feel a little…smitten.

You’re reviewing reports in the study, savoring the rare, blissful calm, when the double doors burst open like some villain from a badly written romance novel. There stands the traitor consort, dressed in what looks like…a suit made of loose, strategically placed peacock feathers, a sequined sash, and—oh, yes—face glitter.

He strikes a pose, does a dramatic hand flip, and announces, “Behold! My love for you is eternal, as boundless as the stars, and as bold as my outfit!”

You're thinking about ordering Floyd to chase him out with a chair, when you catch Heroine’s expression—somewhere between horror and volcanic rage.

With a fierce gleam in her eye, she steps in front of you, looking like she’s about to deliver an exorcism. “You…” she begins, her voice so cold even the peacock feathers on his shoulders look like they might molt in fear. “You miserable, egotistical, fashion-disaster-in-waiting!”

He’s stunned, blinking like a child caught sneaking candy. “W-what? Heroine, you used to help me with my plans!”

“Yeah, well, that was before I got a brain cell,” she snaps. “I actually know my worth now, and it’s definitely not tied to whatever fever-dream cape situation you’ve got going on.” She points to his glittering sash. “What, did you rob an arts-and-crafts store on the way here? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

He stammers, visibly shrinking, feathers quivering with fear. “Y-you were always there for me…”

“That was when I was too naive to realize you were the human equivalent of a trash fire!” She’s in full swing now, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, spitting out insults that would make the court jester blush. “Please, the Empress has standards, and you’re down there with questionable cabbage soup.”

He reels back, totally caught off-guard. By this point, you’re honestly not sure if you should applaud or slowly back away.

With a smirk, you lean forward and say, “Well, since you’re dressed for the occasion, why don’t you strut that ridiculous ensemble back to your own country?”

He opens his mouth, gapes like a fish, and finally closes it, completely defeated. Without another word, he shuffles out, feathers dragging behind him in a sad little pile.

The second he’s out of earshot, you sigh, look up, and thank the universe for finally sparing you from that headache. The Heroine just dusts her hands off, grinning like she’s just won the greatest battle of her life, and you’re suddenly very aware of just how terrifyingly competent she’s become.

Floyd has been hounding you about his reward for days now, showing up at all hours with the persistence of a cat at dinner time. You’re mid-sentence in a policy meeting, mid-sip at dinner, even mid-bath when you hear him shout from outside the door, “Hey, Shrimpy! Remember my prize? Don’t forget now!”

Finally, in a moment of resignation, you sigh and wave him in. “Fine, Floyd. What do you actually want?”

He grins, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that should probably have you worried. “Make me king consort.”

You open your mouth, ready to laugh and then say something like, “No chance,” but then…you pause. Because—why not? He’s loyal, he’s your particular brand of chaos, and honestly, the idea of using it as an excuse to disband the harem is almost too good.

You’d get to tell everyone you’d found the “love of your life” and keep your mornings free of peacock-feathered declarations of eternal devotion.

“Alright, Floyd,” you say, shrugging as if you just agreed to a dinner plan and not a royal title. “You’re king consort.”

For a solid five seconds, he’s frozen, blinking like he’s not sure if you just announced the best prank of the century or an actual royal decision.

Then, with a roar of laughter, he picks you up, actually tossing you in the air like a sack of grain. “SHRIMPY, I’M KING CONSORT! WOOOO!”

Ministers nearby practically leap out of their chairs in terror, and one drops his teacup with a spectacular crash.

“Oh, and by the way,” he says, setting you down but keeping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t think I forgot—I still get that week alone with you in the countryside. Just you, me, and the great outdoors.”

You’d expected to feel dread, but instead…you’re kind of excited? Because it turns out, when there’s no glittered consort in sight, Floyd’s brand of mayhem might just be exactly what you needed.

You’re slumped on the throne, staring into the void as a minister drones on about the scandalous rise in scarf-wearing among the commoners.

The man is red-faced and foaming at the mouth as if he’s narrating the downfall of civilization itself instead of just… knitted accessories. With each drawn-out sentence, your urge to grab his own scarf and dramatically tie it around his face grows stronger.

“And, Your Majesty, don’t you agree that such… frivolousness undermines the dignity of the empire?” he sputters.

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, one mental toe dangling into the sweet abyss of existential crisis. How did your life get to this point? Did the previous Empress really deal with scarf politics? You contemplate just passing the crown to the nearest potted plant. Surely it couldn’t do worse.

Then, like a savior bathed in sunlight, Floyd appears. He slinks in casually, eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of glee and malice. He takes one look at Wedgeworth’s scarf-induced fervor and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I see the scarf issue is really eating away at the Empire,” Floyd deadpans, clearly unamused at the absurdity.

The minister stammers, blinking like he’s never been interrupted in his life. “Well, actually, I was explaining to Her Majesty—”

Floyd raises a hand. “I’ll take it from here, Lord Scarfington. Very urgent royal matters, wouldn’t want to keep the Empress from them, now would we, hmm?”

The ministers exchange horrified looks, but when Floyd locks eyes with them, his expression darkens into a gaze that could probably scare the teeth off a shark. Ministers shuffle out, muttering about “the sanctity of scarves” and how they “never liked those shellfish folk anyway.”

When you’re finally alone, you look at Floyd, and he gives you a grin. “Come on, Shrimpy, I’ve got a surprise.”

He leads you through a series of narrow, winding hallways you didn’t even know existed until you arrive at a small, hidden courtyard surrounded by high walls and shaded by some flowering trees.

In the middle of it is a picnic spread that looks… questionable. There’s food you don’t recognize: odd, glistening items that could pass as snacks in a very brave galaxy.

“I brought some delicacies from the Coral Sea,” Floyd announces, looking way too proud. “I even cooked some of this myself.”

You smile, hoping he means the less suspicious dishes, but as you take a bite of one of the “unique” items, you immediately realize your error. It’s a taste explosion, and not in a good way; you’re fairly certain you just ate something alive. Floyd’s already laughing, watching you try to hold back a gag.

“Oh, that’s rich, look at your face!” He claps his hands, doubled over with laughter.

But then you try the food he actually cooked, and it’s… it’s really good. Your eyes widen. “Floyd, you didn’t tell me you could cook!”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Guess you just have that effect on me, Shrimpy.”

As you eat, you feel the weight of scarf debates and mundane ministerial crises slip away. Floyd’s teasing you about your reaction to the Coral Sea snacks, you’re pretending to smack him, and somewhere between the laughter and the food, you realize you’re completely relaxed. You’re even… happy.

Then he casually picks up a pillow, eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, Shrimpy,” he says slowly, “bet I can take you down.”

“Bring it, fish-boy,” you fire back, grabbing a pillow.

A feather flies. Then another. In no time, the two of you are engaged in a full-on pillow war, feathers floating through the air in chaotic puffs. You swing a pillow with all your might, narrowly missing Floyd, who dodges and counters with a playful shove, sending you sprawling onto the blanket, laughing so hard you’re almost crying.

In the flurry of feathers and laughter, you realize just how much you care about him. And as if reading your mind, Floyd suddenly stops, pinning you down, his face hovering just inches above yours. His usual playful grin fades into something softer, more serious, and you find yourself staring up at him, completely captivated.

You kiss him, right there, surrounded by scattered feathers and half-eaten snacks. “I think I’m in love with you, Floyd,” you whisper.

He grins, looking almost smug. “Knew you’d come around eventually, Shrimpy. You’re a smart one.”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and pull him into another kiss, feeling lighter than you have in ages. Whatever royal nonsense tomorrow brings, you know you’ve got him—and for now, that’s more than enough.

Vacation plans with Floyd start out so simple in theory, but the minute he said, “Countryside? Nah, Shrimpy, we’re going under the sea,” you just nodded because, hey, you did promise a reward. Plus, how bad could it be?

Bad, it turns out, is relative. Upon arrival, Jade, Floyd’s brother, gives you a grin that says welcome, poor soul. “So, my brother’s finally gone and gotten himself an Empress. How unexpected,” he says with a glint in his eye that suggests he’s got a bet running on how long you’ll last.

But you’ve barely survived Jade’s interrogation when Azul, Coral Sea’s resident business octopus, swims up with an entire briefcase of contracts and a grin that spells danger.

“Welcome, Your Majesty! I thought we might discuss a mutually beneficial agreement,” he says smoothly, his tone so charming you almost miss that the contract slides in a 50-year lease on your kingdom’s fishing industry.

“So that’s how it is here,” you think, snapping back to business mode. You haggle until both sides are happy, but the second you reach across to shake Azul’s hand, Floyd swoops in, sighing dramatically. He grabs your hand, practically prying it out of Azul’s. “Alright, Shrimpy, enough time with the fish dealer. You’re mine this week.”

Before you can blink, he’s thrown you over his shoulder like you’re a stray potato sack, striding away from an open-mouthed Azul and an utterly delighted Jade who looks like he's a minute away from bursting out popcorn.

By the time he hauls you to your guest room and plops you on the bed, his usual grin has given way to an expression you’ve only seen on annoyed cats. He’s holding your hand in a grip that could rival steel, not letting go even as he sulks like a kid who just lost his favorite toy.

“Floyd,” you say slowly, “is something wrong?”

He looks away, puffing out his cheeks, refusing to answer. It's downright adorable in an overgrown, slightly unhinged eel sort of way. You squint at him, reaching over to grab his face, smushing his cheeks together until he finally makes eye contact. “Hey, I can’t read your mind, Floyd. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He mutters something too low to hear, and you lean closer, arching a brow. “What was that?”

“You’re my Shrimpy,” he grumbles louder, still not meeting your eyes. “And the handshake with that fish scammer went on too long.”

It takes every ounce of self-control not to burst into laughter. “So that’s it, huh?” A laugh slips out despite your efforts, and his pout deepens, though his grip on your hand stays as firm as ever. “You silly eel,” you chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “As if anyone could match me like you do?”

That does it. His expression softens, the pout melting into that slightly unhinged, overly excited Floyd smile you know too well. “See, Shrimpy, that’s why you’re the only one for me!” he practically shouts before pulling you into a spin that has you clinging to him for dear life.

He kisses you again, and you’re so breathless you half-expect a storm outside to rise to match.

But it doesn’t matter—he’s too busy swearing up and down that he’s not letting anyone else get a “single fin” on you. And somehow, as you laugh together, it feels like you really are on a vacation you never knew you needed.

The ceremony for crowning Floyd as your King Consort goes all-out, much to your delight—and, judging by the expressions around the room, their absolute horror. The whole throne room is so packed with flowers and banners it might as well be a festival.

You’ve made sure that this is a spectacle the diplomats and ministers will never forget. After all, the more smitten you look with Floyd, the less they’ll try to “reason” you out of it. And if they have any opinions about your choice, well, they can keep it to themselves—or they can talk to Floyd.

As you lean in to place the crown on Floyd’s head, he’s giving you a smirk so bright you swear it’s practically a stage light. The second the crown touches his head, he dips you into a kiss that is equal parts “fairytale ending” and “scandalized gasp from the old guard.” The ministers are barely holding in a collective gasp. Someone clutches their chest like they might need medical attention.

Over on the sidelines, you can see Jade and Azul clapping way too enthusiastically for the room’s mood. Meanwhile, everyone else looks like they’re watching you deface a holy artifact. You pull back with a satisfied smile, fully aware of the whispers swirling through the room.

Now, to seal this newfound reign in your own… unique way.

You turn to the front rows where your now-ex-harem stands, looking various shades of awkward and confused. These “prizes” will be going back to their respective nations, and it’s about time. “Ambassadors,” you announce, your tone absolutely oozing sincerity, “I believe you’ll be taking back your… prizes. Enjoy.”

The diplomats exchange looks, clearly unsure if they should feel insulted or relieved. You give them a regal wave and watch as they shuffle out with the ex-consorts in tow, one of whom lets out a dramatic sigh loud enough to reach the rafters.

Just as the room finally starts calming down, you glance over at the row of your ministers—many of whom look like they’d rather have run off with the consorts.

These are the ancient relics of nepotism who have only ever accomplished growing their own egos and possibly a few money-siphoning schemes. You decide now’s the time to deal with them, too.

Smiling so politely it almost looks sweet, you say, “Ministers, thank you for your service. But I’m sure you’ll understand when I say…” You pause, voice dropping to an icy sweetness, “You’re dismissed. Please kindly fuck right off.”

Several of the men freeze, as if unsure they heard you correctly. One or two start spluttering, “But—Your Majesty—this is—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Floyd cuts in, grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re free to go! You wouldn’t want to disappoint the Empress, would ya?”

It takes a second, but the room clears of protesting ministers soon enough. Then you turn to the waiting group of young scholars, women who fought their way up to the top on pure merit, many of them owing their presence here to your recently passed education reforms. “Welcome,” you say with a genuine smile. "Your interviews will be conducted tomorrow"

Their reactions are priceless. Several tear up on the spot, whispering thank-yous so heartfelt you nearly tear up yourself. One of them murmurs, “This is a dream come true. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

You feel a swell of pride. This is what you’ve wanted to see—a competent court, fresh talent, and the chance to make a real difference. Just as you’re soaking in the satisfaction of this triumph, Floyd leans over, clearly up to something.

“You’re done now, yeah?” he asks with a conspiratorial grin.

“Uh, yes?” You've barely said the words, only for him to suddenly scoop you up and throw you over his shoulder, entirely ignoring the royal dignity of it all. The young scholars stare, completely unsure of whether to salute or run.

“Floyd!” you half-laugh, half-scold. “You could at least let me walk out on my own!”

“Nah,” he says, casually strolling down the hall with you like you’re a sack of potatoes. “You’re mine now, Shrimpy. And besides, it’s tradition for the King Consort to carry his Empress, isn’t it?”

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” you mutter, but you wave cheerfully at everyone as you’re carried off.

As he strides out of the throne room, ignoring the horrified gasps and protests behind you both, Floyd grins. “Any more old men to fire? ‘Cause I’m having a great time.”

You shake your head, smiling. After all, you’re the Empress—who’s going to stop you now?

Your empire has transformed. The old guard, once weighed down by nothing but scarves and scandals, has finally given way to a bright-eyed group of scholars and ministers, most of whom—much to the old ministers' horror—are brilliant young women now leading the realm.

Among them is your ex-maid, the heroine herself, newly appointed as Minister of Diplomatic Affairs and already so intimidatingly competent that foreign diplomats quake just a bit when she enters the room.

And the grandest twist of all: you declare that your successor will not be by blood but by merit. The heir to the throne will be the sharpest, most capable mind in the empire, regardless of their birth.

You’re already giddy as you imagine the ambitious parents prepping their offspring for the grueling tests you’re planning—challenges you’ll design alongside your newly assembled council.

After hours of being regal and respectable, you finally get back to your chambers, ready for a night of blissfully ignoring politics. Floyd, your beloved eel, is already sprawled on the couch like he’s conquered half the known world, arms open and ready to receive you. You practically collapse into his embrace, sighing as you burrow against him.

“So, Shrimpy,” he drawls, smirking. “Fix the whole empire yet?”

“Almost,” you laugh. “At least I’ve retired the Scarf Parliament. That’s enough for today.”

You snuggle closer, closing your eyes, and for a second, you think back to the ridiculous, drama-filled story that threw you into this life. Maybe the original author had a point, or maybe she just really liked throwing you curveballs.

Either way, cuddled up with the love of your life while your empire flourishes, you can’t help but think, yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x you #floyd x reader #floyd x you #floyd leech #floyd #trash novel chronicles

794 notes · View notes

kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically

10K notes · View notes

cosmictheo · 2 years ago

Text

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦

(gif credits to @peace--n--love)

— summary: ao'nung calls you the way neteyam usually calls you, which makes him feel jealous and insecure, but that finally pushes him to confess something he has been feeling for too long. — pairing: neteyam x female!na'vi!reader — word count: 2k —warnings: pure and comforting fluff, ao'nung being ao'nung (an idiot), love confessions, jealous!neteyam, neteyam being the purest and most beautiful angel.

* Neteyam is aged up, for obvious reasons, of course; he is 19 years old. * Sluyang means flower.

neteyam's playlist i made for inspo

writer's note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

You liked to observe the beauty that Eywa gave to Pandora, you were still surprised by how beautiful the forest and the places it could hide, even after having grown up there and having been all those years among its leafy trees, even so, the forest hid secret and beautiful places, worthy of being seen and found by only those chosen ones.

Your mother was sure that you had a special connection with Eywa, practically since the day you were born and opened your eyes for the first time, green as a pair of emeralds. She told you that you had come into the world for a purpose, that you were Eywa's chosen one, in fact, those were her last words to you before she passed away in your arms, haunted all her life by an illness from which she never got better. And since then, Jake and Neytiri had taken care of you, accepting you into their family as if you had always been one of them. You soon became close to their children, especially with Neteyam, as you were close in age.

And because of that special fascination you had for the forest and nature in general, Neteyam made a habit of always bringing you things from his many explorations and hunts, things that reminded him of you; flowers, leaves and even rocks, bright and beautiful, out of the ordinary, that stood out among everything else, just like you.

“You don't have to, 'Teyam.” You always said every time he came to you once again with a new gift. But he would simply shake his head, offering you a charming and gentle little smile, ever so kind, ears slightly bent and gaze so bright every time he met yours that it seemed to dazzle you, leaving you completely mesmerized.

With a coy smile you tried to avert your gaze from his, analyzing the object now in your hands. “Really, it's not necessary.”

“I like to do it.” He would simply reply, seeking your gaze with his big, captivating, coaxing eyes, as if it were something insignificant, something that didn't matter, something that wasn't like the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. And you would do nothing but grin at him. You couldn't stop smiling, your cheeks felt almost numb, but you were happy, content, he made you happy. And you knew that this, in the long run, would bring serious consequences, not so good, you supposed.

And now, in the huge ocean, when you thought nothing would surprise you anymore, Eywa seemed to turn every assumption you had upside down. Jake had taken you with him and his family to the place where the Metkayina Clan lived, leaving the Omaticaya behind, leaving the shelter that the forest offered you, to now be surrounded by the ocean; salt water and sandy land.

They had been kind enough to accept you into their home and to show you their ways, noting the great difference from your own, but, apparently the younger members of the clan were not as friendly to strangers as the older ones.

Ao'nung had been rather harsh with you, especially Kiri, whom they had addressed as a freak, as they had nicknamed her, and from there, the problem grew larger, for you and Lo'ak had taken up against them in her defense.

“Look at her.” Ao'nung called out, following Kiri like prey, looking at her with big, disgusted eyes. “Is she a freak or something?”

“Don't call her that.” You stated in a not at all friendly tone, scowl and defiant eyes looking up at the chief's son, pointing at him with your index finger and thus causing him to move backwards. “You have no right to call her that, did you hear me? The Chief's son or not, I'll kick your ass.”

With a tilt of your head, you stated the threat, making him snort ungraciously, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“For such a pretty little girl, you sure have a big mouth.” His big eyes narrowed as he spoke, demonstrating a smug attitude as he heard a couple of snickers from his little friends at his words. “You are one of us, little flower. Why you waste your time hanging out with these aliens?”

“Hey!” Lo'ak exclaimed, appearing at your side, fists clenched and face angry. “Don't call her that, get away from her!”

“Please, leave us alone.” Kiri grumbled behind your back, hearing how now, you were the target of annoyance from the little group.

Your mouth hung open wide, totally offended now, feeling the fury shake your body from head to toe, your tail wagging angrily as you lunged at him at the same time you heard an 'oh uh' from Lo'ak.

But your movement was halted as you watched as a body larger than yours stepped between you and the bully, leaving you in view of nothing but a broad back you knew all too well and blocking Ao'nung's smug, sneering face from your view.

“That's enough.” Neteyam said in a stern tone, deep voice and tense body, always as diplomatic and calm as ever, braids moving under the command of the wind and his head, which rose slightly, giving him a more stern and much more menacing stance. “As long as we are here you will treat my family with respect and call no one by other than their names.”

His head moved so that he could look at the faces of the little group that had formed, friends of Ao'nung, as silly as he was, apparently, but who, in Neteyam's presence, seemed to have been brought back to reality and put back in their places. They were not so foolish after all, they knew that against him they would have no choice but to flee. Cowards.

“(Y/N) is just fine for you, got it?”

“Whatever.” Ao'nung replied, rolling his eyes and starting to walk, bumping his shoulder against Neteyam's as he walked past him, his eyes met yours for a couple of seconds and he offered you a smirk, making you grunt and by the time you could take a step towards him, a hand found itself on your forearm, stopping any act of violence you had planned to do.

“Cowards.” Kiri spat, rolling her eyes.

When you looked back, Neteyam was looking at you with eyes, dark, but now filled with concern, his fingers barely caressing your skin before he pulled away from your arm.

“Are you okay, syulang?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing heavily. “I'd be better if I'd beaten that skxawng—”

“Hey.” He interrupted you, noticing how your ears were still bent and your tail twitching behind your back and he laid both of his hands on your shoulders now, in an attempt to reassure you, giving you delicate petting strokes. “It's okay, it's all over now.” His gaze traveled to his siblings behind you, moving his head and face transforming to one of authority, chin up. His voice came through loud and clear, almost scolding. “Home, now. You've had a lot for today.”

Lo'ak lifted his hands, looking incredulous. “But they were bugging-”

Neteyam was quick to interrupt him. “Home. We will talk to father later.”

The younger boy let out a snarl and without further ado, began walking back to where his family was staying, followed closely by Kiri, who kept a glum face, arms crossed over her chest.

And now, all of Neteyam's attention landed on you, as it naturally did, as his body always seemed to do instinctively, even though he didn't even intend to, he always focused on you, as if you were the center of the universe, the sun of his world, the core of his heart, the magnet of his mind and the horizon of his eyes. He saw you. He had always seen you. And practically everyone in his family knew, perhaps everyone on the whole planet, except for you, of course.

Neteyam had expressly refused any offer or even, even idea from his parents to find him a Tsahik as his position as the future leader of the clan, it was his duty and it behoved him to follow to the letter the duty that rested on his shoulders as the future chief, but now, all that had been left behind with his leaving. Now all he cared about having was you. All that mattered was you.

With a beautiful sunset behind him, he began to speak to you once again, hands gently running over your shoulders and arms, becoming more attentive, affectionate, but still concerned. His brow furrowed slightly and you knew immediately that a scolding was coming now. “What were you thinking, hm? Fighting them all?”

He was always like that with you, especially when you were alone together. Neteyam never felt he was enough for his father, and he too never seemed to be satisfied of him, let alone see all that his son did for his family, for his siblings and for him, but with you, with you everything was different, he could be different, he could be himself and he knew that was enough for you, you made him feel enough, you made him feel special.

“If that's what I had to do for protecting Kiri, Lo'ak and their family's honor, of course.” You answered immediately and with your words, sounding so sure and affirmative, Neteyam felt his heart be flooded with a most familiar warmth, an emotion quite well-known to him whenever you were near him and said things such as those, always putting others before yourself, putting the welfare of his family before yourself.

A smile tugged at Neteyam's lips, admiring you with bright, big eyes, his hands trailing down your shoulders, sliding down your arms to your hands, taking them between his own tenderly, fingers toying with yours absentmindedly as he watched the clear size difference.

“He called you little flower.” Neteyam stated after a silence of a couple of seconds, twisting his head. His jaw was clenched and ears barely tilted back. “I call you that.”

You bit your lower lip, holding back the smile that threatened to curve your lips at his clear display of jealousy. He was upset about it and you had to reassure him. Your fingers caressed his wrist, tracing imaginary lines down his forearm. “I like it better when you do it.”

“I sure hope so.” He smiled again and tugged on your hand, inviting you to walk with him, both of your hands tangled between his arm, and he didn't waste a second in drawing you to him. “I want to show you something.”

. . .

Neteyam had found the spot walking along the local beach, it was a bit far from the place where his family was staying and it was far from the town in general, but that made it a perfect location. It was a small bay, surrounded by coastal vegetation, a couple of palm trees and soft silky sand, but what was really amazing, was the glows of bioluminescence under the clear ocean water, algae of all colors, small animals swimming, with the sunset light bathing exquisitely over the turquoise sea.

It was beautiful, of course. But your reaction at the sight of it was even better; mouth half-open, eyes huge and amazed, face in wonder.

“'Yam… it's beautiful.” You murmured in a soft, barely audible tone of voice, but he was right next to you, as close to you as possible, so he could hear you perfectly. His fingers were intertwined with yours and he pulled you with him across the sand to the perfect place to sit.

“Yes it is. I found it as I was passing by... I immediately thought of you.” His gaze lowered with a hint of embarrassment flashing across his pretty face. “I know how much you love nature, all the things our great mother has given us, so, I thought, you would like it.” He stated and then shrugged, attitude becoming quite braggy now. “I've seen more beautiful things, though.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing your shoulder against his in amusement as you wrapped your arms around your knees, admiring the scenery in front of you. “Don't lie now.”

“I'm serious.” He laughed, looking up at you, analyzing every expression on your pretty face. “I'm no liar, you know that.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning your head so you could look at him now. “Really, huh? So what have you seen? What possibly have you seen prettier than this?”

Neteyam smiled thinly, stirring his arm lightly, his hand passed down your back, resting on the sand, fingers fiddling with it. “Something prettier than this?”

“Hm.” You hummed, looking at him curiously.

His ears perked up, gaze dropping to his lap, steeling himself inside, trying his hardest to calm the nerves that were practically eating him alive. And then, he moved his eyes up your body, until he met yours. “I'm looking at it right now.”

Your breath hitched and your mouth parted, feeling your body freeze. Your arms fell to either side of your body, adjusting your position.

“Nete…” You whispered in a shaky voice.

“Yes, sluyang?” He tilted his head softly. “I'm being honest.” He swallowed saliva, his hand trailing up your arm, caressing your shoulder and tracing your jaw, down to rest on your cheek, fingers tracing every inch of skin he could, arranging your hair and tucking it behind your ear. “I've always seen you as the most beautiful thing…” His lips trembled, faltering for a few moments. “I see you, (Y/N).”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I see you too, Neteyam.”

He closed his eyes too, caressing your face with his. “When that idiot called you flower and treated you that way… like you were nothing.” His hands cradled your face now, and you rose up to face him, completely silent, breathing agitatedly. He was breathing in an agitated way too, looking frustrated, disturbed. “I was furious. They should respect you. Every one of them should know that you are mine and they should treat you as such, as my equal, as my mate.”

You opened your eyes to find his eyes already on you, your fingers stroking his arms subconsciously. Your lips brushed his as you opened your mouth to speak in an agitated voice. “I want to be yours, Neteyam.”

“I can't pretend anymore.” He declared between shaky breaths, gaze traveling between your eyes and mouth as he shook his head. “I don't care what anyone else says, I don't want anyone else. I have already chosen. I just want you, (Y/N)... I was made for you.”

“Then just take me.” You murmured against his lips before joining them with yours in a needy, agitated kiss that felt as if everything at last, made sense, as if life had been created just for this moment, as if you had been brought to life just this moment, for each other.

It felt as if all the constellations had aligned for you, as if you had all the stars just for you, and that was given just once, you knew. Everything made you feel as if Ewya had created you for each other. You were made for each other and perhaps the Great Mother had aligned the whole universe for it, for you.

“I am yours.” He promised. “I always have been.”

Your legs tangled between his as you landed on his lap, being drawn in by his arms chaining themselves around your body, massaging your waist, tattooing his touch on your skin.

“Forever.”

#avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam one shot #neteyam sully #sully family #neteyam x female!reader #neteyam x f reader #avatar: the way of water #avatar #avatar: twow #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam #na'vi reader #lo'ak sully #cosmictheo

14K notes · View notes

sorryimananti-romantic · 3 months ago

Text

Light

angel!mafia seonghwa x chemist!mafia reader

evil man possessed by an angel who falls in love with the evil chemist who is basically a devil au LOL

genres and warnings: angst, suggestive, mafia au, obsession, morally black ppl again, mentions of drugs, human experiments (a few details), violence, blood, themes of corruption and forbidden love, lmk if i missed anything, dni if uncomfortable ^

word count: 32k (oops i did it again)

synopsis: when you summon an angel to enhance the town's drugs, the angel ends up being stuck in seonghwa's body- the mafia boss who supplies the drugs itself. the line between good and evil start to blur, complicated by your feelings for each other which lead you to make some difficult choices.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (she insisted hwa pure evil i said your wish is my command)

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive.

Without evil, there cannot be any good in this world. Evilness creates the need for good. And if there’s only good in the world, there would be no reason or purpose anymore. There must be evil for there to be a desire for goodness.

Good and evil are the two elements that weigh down the pans of a weighing scale. They hover in the air, tipping up and down endlessly, never balancing because there is always too much evil or too much good at each fraction of time in the world. Perhaps, it is meant to be that way- perhaps, that is the balance this world needs.

Similarly, there is also good and evil coexisting in an individual. Sometimes, there is more good than evil, while other times evil outweighs the good . People can argue if humans are inherently good or evil but it has never mattered- if you live in society, you will learn what is considered good and what is considered evil.

However… sometimes when you look at Park Seonghwa, you wonder if all the foolish rambling about evil being an inherent trait might be true after all. You’ve known him almost all your life and you are convinced that the man does not possess a single good bone in his body.

Again, it was arguable. What is the criteria of being good or what ultimately labels you evil? Perhaps, he is good in an unconventional way- though there’s hardly been evidence of that when all his good intentions have an evil motive. Maybe that was his purpose on earth- to make sure the scale does not tip too much towards good.

A tiny part of you thought that maybe he was the only person holding the burden of that responsibility- but then you would look in the mirror and realise you were no better. You would scoff at the audacity to judge the poor man when you yourself were his equal in every way. Perhaps, you possessed a few morals, but you had always been reprimanded on that.

You could not be a good human in your field. Not when you were making sure that the society was entangled in the web of your deception- attracted like flies to the things that glittered like gold but were dark at their very core. Not when you fed the people with the lies of pleasure and they willingly took bait, losing the conscious part of themselves that would ever warn them that maybe this was not a good idea.

Not when you were the devil who was ruling both the underworld and the world from the shadows.

You did not need to be a good human when you were manufacturing and producing drugs. You just needed to possess a brain that functioned better than the average human, possess a heart that did not function as good as the average human, and finally, stay away from whatever you created.

Bonus points if you had a little streak of-

“This is insanity, sweetheart.”

That. Insanity. The key ingredient.

“But insanity has always made sense. Especially when it comes from me,” you pointed out and Seonghwa couldn’t help but agree, uncomfortably crossing his legs while sitting on his office chair and contemplating deeply.

“Theoretically, it can work-”

“Theoretically,” Seonghwa reminded you with a pointed glare that was a warning to not get too ahead of yourself. He never failed to assert that he was ultimately the one in control. “Theoretically, anything is possible. But if you really believe that angels exist-”

“I don’t have to believe that they do,” you insisted. “But I have to try.”

You were unsure about this, that was true. Summoning demons for ritual was something common in the underworld, though you had never witnessed it yourself, having heard that it was better to avoid that. You had suppliers, though, claiming that they had stored the ‘essence’ of the demons that they summoned. The essence was a powerful thing and had to be mixed in miniscule quantities in large amounts of the base product for it to work- you learned that the hard way too. It took you years and an uncountable amount of dead test subjects to learn that the human body could not tolerate the essence of a demon unless it was barely there.

Did you believe that demons exist after all these experimentations? It was still arguable, but the vials of the essence stored safely in your lab was proof that the world was not only home to humans and animals, but other creatures too. You recalled observing exorcisms when you first started studying dark arts, hoping to expand your knowledge and mix the scientific and the supernatural. You once convinced the mafia lord to join you.

That sure did end well. Here you were, seated right in front of that mafia lord, trying to convince him that if humans could successfully extract demonic essence to create the ultimate drugs, they could extract the essence of an angel to create something new too.

It could change the course of this world, if you were right. You had no idea if the essence would work like the demonic one. Maybe it worked similarly, but at least you would have the satisfaction of having tried. There was a chance though that the angelic essence could open new opportunities for your business. And if it had medicinal properties, you could control the capitalistic net too. You could rule the world.

“Come on,” you insisted, getting up and walking around the table to lean against the surface, bending down just a fraction to meet his eyes. “This could be our salvation, Seonghwa.”

“Or doom,” he challenged, leaning forward while still seated, his fingers going to play with the lapel of your coat. “This could go very, very wrong. I can’t lose my mad scientist now, can I?”

You smirked. “Is that all I mean to you? Mad scientist?”

“You know what they say,” Seonghwa shrugged. “Behind every drug lord is a mad scientist.”

“They don’t say that, but sure,” you scoffed. “Come on. We’ve been partners for years now. Give me some credit, and let me try this. I’ll only try it once, I promise. If it doesn’t work, we let it go.”

Seonghwa considered your proposal- he always let you try stupidly dangerous things at least once, no matter the fear in his heart that he would end up endangering your life. He told himself he did not care for you, but that you were simply someone essential to him and his business. He convinced himself that he had no attachment towards you as someone who grew up with you and survived with you in the darkest period of his life.

And you believed him. That he really did not have any personal attachment towards you. You were just someone useful to him. You always said that you returned the sentiment, but you were more human than him in some ways, and being human meant that you inevitably caught feelings for him.

Not that you would ever admit that to a soul. They could pin you on the very stretcher you tied your test subjects to, cut you open or drug you but nothing could be capable of extracting that confession out of your mouth.

It didn’t help that the person in question was the Park Seonghwa. He could look like an angel and a demon at the same time, and that was perhaps the worst combination you could have encountered. It was his ability to transform his face into the epitome of innocence that was his weapon. He had bewitched every person that possessed any semblance of power, took advantage of any individual that could be of use to him, whether alive or dead, and climbed his way to the top.

And you had been by his side all along. Partner in every sense, sharing brains and planning schemes in the dead of the night, alone in the woods huddled against each other because you had a single blanket that you managed to grab when you both ran away from the orphanage. He was too busy leading the path to worry about grabbing anything useful, he told you.

You had been by his side all the years that you spent after, being protected by him when he teamed up with the street gangs and earned for both of you. You helped wherever you could, his little mad scientist from the beginning, experimenting with drugs and burying your nose in books, observing the doctors and surgeons who were expert on cutting up people to extract organs, learning every practical skill you needed to stand on your feet and make Seonghwa proud.

And you did. You made him proud and you made him strong. You cut ties- in the most literal way- with your previous gang and emerged as a strong duo, Seonghwa operating in the light while you worked in the shadows. He kept you close, within an arm’s length. He made sure you had everything you needed- a roof over your head, food in your stomach, a lab for your experiments, and him.

You were too afraid to ask him if he would treat you the same had you not excelled in this knowledge. You already knew the answer to that. That man possessed no human heart, and the moment you would be useless, he would stab you not in the back but in the front, locking eyes with you and proving that ultimately, it was him in charge. It was why you never risked saying or doing something stupid, because you were content this way.

You were content with the way his fingers travelled up the lapel of your black coat, finding the skin on your chest just below your neck where the shirt stopped him. You were content with the way he traced patterns there as he weighed the pros and cons of trying this damned ritual. Him locking his eyes with you and holding no hint of remorse that was otherwise a permanent expression in his eyes was enough. The squeeze of his fingers around your neck was enough.

And whatever his decision was… it would be enough too.

“Alright. Just once. It should not go wrong, you understand?”

You failed to stifle your smile, soon grinning and Seonghwa chuckled at the way your eyes so dangerously twinkled.

“A devil about to summon an angel. Who would’ve thought?”

“Two devils,” you corrected. “You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, no, no,” Seonghwa shook his head adamantly. “I trust you. I’ll send men-”

“No, you need to witness this moment, Seonghwa,” you insisted in all seriousness, your eyes widening just a fraction. “If it’s a success, we will change the world. You need to be there. For me.”

Seonghwa thought he heard just a bit of an underlying threat in there but he chose to ignore it, like he always did. Only you could talk to him in this tone, demand anything- even his life from him. He had already given you all his life, like you had given him all yours.

He could give you this, too. It made sense- and he really needed to witness this one himself, otherwise if it worked, he was positive he would never believe that they weren’t manipulating facts.

“For you,” Seonghwa nodded. “Make sure it’s safe, and have some human offerings ready in case we need that.”

“I don’t think an angel would be interested, but sure,” you gently pushed his hand that was playing with your hair away. “I’ll have everything ready- we’re doing it exactly a week from now. May the Lord be with us.”

Seonghwa’s cackle roared in the room as you exited. You felt like you were floating in the clouds, now that you had his approval.

You would prove that angels exist, hence proving there was good in this world.

And then you would wonder where the good in your old friend’s heart went.

“More candles?” One of the men helping you with the summoning ritual asked.

You looked around the room before turning your attention back to the book you had borrowed from one of your crew members in charge of collecting demonic essence. He was under the impression that you were trying a different demon summoning ritual, and you intended to keep it that way- not everyone needed to know that it was an angel you would be summoning.

“It’s not a fucking birthday party, those are enough candles,” you said and when Seonghwa snickered under his breath, the man skittered away.

“Someone’s on edge,” Seonghwa elbowed you lightly and you looked at him helplessly.

“I’m just trying to make sure this won’t be unsafe even if it goes wrong. The candles are just for aesthetics.”

“Ah, is that so?” Seonghwa looked around. “And the circle they’re sketching? Will that serve as a cage?”

“The spell and the items I’ll place around the room will serve as the cage, the circle is just a location pointer, you could say,” you explained, shutting the book and taking a deep breath. “I’m going to make a final check. Can you ask everyone to get out of this room and wait?”

“Will you really be here when they summon the angel?” He asked and you nodded. “Do you have to be?”

“Yes, I have to be,” you told him for the umpteenth time, beckoning him to go away. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry. And if anything bad happens… it’s not like you care anyway.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you and you grinned- you had a habit of making these jabs and he was quite used to that now.

“I’ll keep your word for it,” he promised. “If anything bad happens, don’t expect me to come barging in to save you.”

“Got it,” you sighed, putting on a show of offence. “If I die tonight, it was me who stole your precious diamond ring.”

“I know,” Seonghwa smirked and you stared at him, slack-jawed. He only shook his head and turned away, clapping to get everyone’s attention and asking anyone who wasn’t conducting the ritual to leave the room.

The room fell silent once again, the hushed voices of the people present inside echoing off the walls. You weren’t sure if the chilly feel to the room was because it was in the basement of an abandoned building in a very remote area, or because of the deed that was about to take place.

You waited until everyone had left before taking your position at the far end of the room. Your partner’s crew members naturally knew what to do as if they had trained for this their whole lives. They set the holy items at the four corners, and then some unholy ones at the other four corners, creating an eight-pointed star. Once you were satisfied, you went to pick a holy sword- the sword you had earned after your contribution to the dark arts, the very sword that had given you the idea of summoning an angel.

You dipped it into the tub near you, collecting wine on its blade, its translucent drops marking the earth with evidence of the forthcoming act. You turned your neck to look at the window, finding Seonghwa and the others- human sacrifices- waiting. Seonghwa shared a nod and you fished out his lighter from the pocket.

Once the sword caught fire, you walked with heavy steps to your final position in the front so the angel would meet your eyes. You put on your shades for caution like the rest of them did, and then you signalled the summoner to begin.

The sound of his spell filled the room- it sounded foreign even to him, considering the way he stumbled upon the words- the words for this spell were different from a demonic spell. The summoner sliced his palm and let his blood taint the etchings on the floor, continuing muttering the spell.

For a moment, you wondered if it was all a waste as seconds ticked by without a movement but a collective gasp sounded across the room when the flames of the candles blazed angrily. You gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, keeping it raised in the air. You tried not to let the fear gripping your heart get to you as the temperature in the room dropped significantly.

When the summoner said the final words of the spell, the final call to have any angel in the vicinity answer him, a strong breeze circulated around the room, blowing out every candle and almost extinguishing the fire on the sword. You gulped to swallow the scream forming in your throat, the sword in your hand the only source of light now. You thought you heard someone knocking at the window but the little glimmer of light in the centre of the circle had caught your attention.

Slowly, the glimmer turned into a blob, which then turned into a shapeless source of light- blinding golden light so bright that it appeared white, harsh enough to make your eyes water even through the shades. You narrowed your eyes to focus but there was too much going on-

Especially the warning song echoing inside you- you knew that it wasn’t coming from you. It was coming from that being and everyone else in the room could hear it too, considering how they started backing away.

“Stand your ground,” you ordered, and the men stilled. Your word was as important as their boss Seonghwa’s, perhaps even more important than their own life. “Make sure the barricade remains intact.”

It was only then you spared yourself a moment to meet Seonghwa’s eyes through the window, who looked astonished, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend the glorious sight in front of him.

The glorious sight that was now taking the shape of a person, the edges sharpening enough to make out its silhouette yet remaining blurry. It seemed to be a crouched figure, taller than anyone you had ever seen, a cascade of hair covering the entirety of its upper body and anything that was not covered by its folded wings. There was no need for a halo when the being glowed from within, though even if there was one, it was too blindingly bright to make out.

“Which little bird summoned this weary angel? Pray tell, pray tell...”

Oh, you were doomed.

“Was it the man that connected us with blood? Was it the man that offered me good, or was it the one that chained me with the bad? Pray tell, pray tell…”

The said men were now leaning against the walls, praying to whatever god that had sent his angel here to save them. Save them from what? It was too late-

“Or is it the little bird that holds the key to my freedom?”

Key to freedom? You looked down at the lit sword. You recalled reading something about how such a holy relic could also be used to undo spells and though you had thought the information was insignificant, you were wondering if you needed to undo the spell right now-

“What purpose must I serve to earn my freedom?”

The tone of the angel turned soft, almost beckoning you forward. You weren’t sure if the angel was speaking out loud or if the voice was still inside your head. You dared to take one step closer before you felt a crushing sense of weight on your shoulders.

“It is I who called you,” you managed to say. “I have questions to ask.”

“You called me to satisfy your humane curiosity?”

There was a warning in his soft voice now. A warning that one wrong move would ensure your end. You looked helplessly at Seonghwa who was no longer present at the window and you wondered where he was. You thought you heard the creak of a door open but he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come inside, right?

You contemplated making a deal with the angel, but your tongue fell limp. With demons, you had heard that it was pretty easy when it wasn’t one of the stronger demons. A little deal, some nasty business, ensuring their essence would do damage that they would like, or in rare cases, a price to be paid usually got the work done.

What could you offer the servant of God? What could an angel need?

“Do I really hold the key to your freedom?” You asked, a strange tugging in your mind. The angel lifted its face just a fraction- you still couldn’t make out its features but you could tell that it was staring at you.

“I have a feeling that you do.”

And you had a feeling that this wasn’t about the freedom from this spell anymore. Entranced, you took another step forward, and another, unable to deny the pull. The being was ethereal and you had no chance against it. You had no chance, and you had no choice but to step inside the circle with this sword, damned be the consequences, damned be the very familiar voice shouting at you to stop-

It all happened too quickly to process- you were suddenly and forcefully being pulled away and the angel latched out, the sword falling on the ground with a dreadful clatter that echoed in the air, intermingled with the shrieks of the people present in the room. Your eyes widened when you noticed the tip of the sword within the circle.

This was the end.

“Get out of here, now!” Seonghwa ordered through gritted teeth in your ear, pulling you away with him and you went along this time, trying to tell him that it was too late, that he shouldn’t have come inside.

He would later wonder why he went inside. Perhaps, the angel himself had called him. Perhaps, he had been attracted to the angel’s pure energy when he was the embodiment of darkness himself.

And if that was the case, why did the angel choose him as his medium of freedom?

The last thing you saw from the corner of your eye before you lost consciousness, amidst the chaos of the summoning ritual gone wrong, was the angel’s hand latching onto Seonghwa’s back and Seonghwa’s eyes rolling back in his head before he fell, dragging you down with him.

All these years of your life had been dedicated to the mafia boss Seonghwa- your friend, your family, and your everything. Even your worst nightmare.

He was the reason you were alive and not sold off as nothing more than a repository of useful organs. If you ever think back to what your life had been like when you were just a child, barely 10, it was rough. It was dark, and Seonghwa was the only light in your life. No matter how dim that might be.

Seonghwa always shined. And you were just a moth attracted to his light.

However, you did not expect the man to physically shine. There was a sheen of actual golden light across his skin as his body burned with a fever meant for no human. You had bitten through the majority of your thumb nail while you wracked your brains for a solution- but did you really want one?

All these years, you had put Seonghwa’s ambitions and goals first. He wanted to escape the abusive orphanage and he wanted you to come along- you couldn’t be more grateful. He wanted to mix with the street gangs and provide for you so you could make a breakthrough in science (specifically, drugs) one day- sure, who were you to deny that blessing? He wanted to become the most notorious mafia boss, earn a social repute and keep you by his side, wanting you to help him become a true drug lord- to be the owner of the most unique and sought after drug. That aligned with your personal ambitions, so who were you to say no?

But your actual goal- if you ever had a moment of clarity without Seonghwa clouding your thoughts, it was to make a breakthrough in science- not just drugs. And Seonghwa knew your heart’s deepest desire, which was why he always prevented you from doing so, warning that you couldn’t be in the public eye. If you wanted to make breakthroughs, you could do so in the field of drugs, and limit yourself to the underworld.

Well, this was what he wanted. Here he was, burning with an inhumane fever, golden ichor dripping from the corner of his eyes that you were sure to collect, already a few vials full. You wondered if this was the essence. And you wondered if the angel really was inside Seonghwa’s body now.

The two of you had lost consciousness when the angel attacked you- thankfully, his loyal servants were quick to take you both back to your hide-out where your lab was located. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself and Seonghwa lying flat on the stretchers. For a moment, fear gripped the entirety of your being before you realised you were just laying down and not tied like one of your test subjects. A sigh of relief later, you turned to find Seonghwa tied, and for all the right reasons.

Thankfully, your subordinate was someone who could be trusted. He made sure to keep the rest of your staff outside and waited for you to wake up. Now the two of you were almost huddled against each other, fidgeting with your clothes and biting your nails- anything to cope, at this point.

“Do you think he will ever wake up?” Dr. Choi asked, his sharp features softening into worry. “Or will he… burn to death from within?”

“I hope he doesn’t,” you nodded slowly. “If he wakes up and remains alright… he will be my greatest product.”

Dr. Choi San chuckled darkly at that comment. “It will only be your greatest product if you let the world see it.”

“That’s the thing,” you looked at your thumb, finding it smeared with your trademark cherry red lipstick. “I would want to keep him all to myself.”

“What a dilemma, huh?” He shook his head. “Well, I for one don’t want to be present when the demon lord wakes up. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“What if the angel inside him kills me?”

“Well…” Dr. Choi shrugged. “I guess I’ll proceed to take over this institution like you have willed-”

“Not helping,” you glared at him but you both knew that this was a situation you couldn’t do anything about. You were helpless, and your only choice was to wait and hope that Seonghwa would be okay and the angel wouldn’t want to kill you at the first sight.

Another hour must have passed with you waiting endlessly, wiping the sweat off his skin and collecting the tears before he finally opened his eyes, groaning inhumanely and beginning to shiver slightly. You rushed to his side, startled at the sudden shift and poked his side.

“Seonghwa? Is that you?”

“What’s happening to me?” His voice came out strained and before he could ask something else or get your response, his eyes rolled back and he shut them tight, finally settling down and laying limp. Your heart sank and you checked if he was breathing, feeling relieved upon finding that he was. You contemplated untying his wrists and legs but you had to play it safe-

Though you were pretty sure the angel would be able to break free anyway.

When Seonghwa opened his eyes the second time, there was a slight glaze to it as if he was wondering where he was or recalling the events of the previous night. He tried raising his arms but gave up instantly, not even bothering to check why he was unable to do so. You frowned at his unusual behaviour and cautiously called his name again.

“Where am I?”

“My lab? You passed out, remember?” You gently told him.

“No, where am I?” He looked at you, his eyes scanning your face as if this was the first time he was seeing you. “And who are you?”

You felt your knees go weak and you clutched at his stretcher. “Seonghwa? It’s me, y/n. Don’t you remember?”

Seonghwa tried to raise his arms again but he shut his eyes as he groaned. “Untie me. Now.”

You couldn’t say no to that. You unclasped the belts and he sat up, swaying a bit. You passed him a glass of water and he made a face, setting it aside.

“Why did you call me?”

“I was trying to wake you up-”

“No, why did you call me?”

This time, his voice sounded inside you and you took a step back, your lower lip trembling at the shift in his demeanour.

“It’s- it’s not you, is it? You’re not Seonghwa?”

“I’m not your rotten excuse of a human, correct.”

It was the angel inside him speaking. He raised his hands, examining them carefully, finding them rough and calloused. He looked sideways, finding a blurry reflection of himself and shook his head in disappointment.

“Who are you?” You dared to ask.

“You called me,” he said calmly, a dangerous undertone in his voice. “You know exactly who I am. You know my name- do not dare to call me by my name with your filthy human tongue.”

You blinked, narrowing your eyes. “Is an angel allowed to talk like that?”

“Well, I’m human now, aren’t I?” The angel shrugged carelessly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “Thanks to you.”

“I’m not the one who asked you to possess him. That wasn’t my idea,” you tried to explain, sweat oozing out of your pores the more his glare turned darker.

“Well, what was your idea, then?” He got up, a bit shaky on his feet as if walking after a long time. That didn’t stop him from invading your personal space and standing right in front of you until you could feel the warmth radiate from his body. His brows furrowed and you thought he looked incredibly sad at that moment.

“What were you thinking, little bird? Trapping an angel?”

“I-” you clutched at the table behind you, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I only wanted to ask if an angel’s essence could be obtained.”

“For what?”

“Medicinal purposes,” you smoothly lied.

“Well, you have your answer,” the angel looked towards the vials as if having sensed them. “Though I’m sure it will not work. And you won’t be getting any more of my tears. I shall leave this body soon- if only this cursed human would let me-”

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out small, and you hated the effect he had on you. You weren’t sure if it was the angel, or if it was Seonghwa that made you still cower under him.

“I shouldn’t have been able to possess such an evil human,” the angel tilted his head threateningly as he leaned towards you, scanning your face. “You were who I intended to possess. Maybe he had a change of heart and allowed me to take him?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” you muttered. The Park Seonghwa you knew would never risk his life for you.

Okay, he might, a little. To the point of getting hurt, but not to the point of… this.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m stuck, and I’m unable to get out.”

“Do we need to do another… ritual?”

“Humans,” he spat with such bitterness that you almost wondered if this was Seonghwa himself, testing you. “You should have learned about this properly before you summoned me.”

“Do you know why you’re unable to get out of this body?” You asked.

The room fell silent, and when a subtle shake of his head told you that he indeed was as clueless as you, you finally relaxed and let a smirk grace your lips.

“Well… it looks like you and I are going to have some fun then… angel.”

It didn’t take long for you to convince the angel that you needed to run some tests in order to see if Seonghwa was okay- but you used this excuse to extract some blood, run every test possible, take every scan and monitor his vitals. Hours later, you were still stuck in the lab with him, the smell of food and antiseptics filling the room.

“You have to eat,” you said for perhaps the tenth time. “You’re in a human body, and you will have to live like a human while you’re stuck.”

“I could choose not to eat and let this body die. Maybe that is how I can get out,” the angel considered. You shot him a glare- while the angel wasn’t the considerate creature you thought he would be, his tone was a lot softer than Seonghwa’s ever was.

“Or maybe that’s how you end up perishing,” you placed a piece of meat on top of his rice bowl. “Food for thought.”

The angel glared at you for a moment and fumbled with the chopsticks until you showed him how to use them. He caught up pretty quickly and picked the piece of meat, sniffing it and frowning. You watched him curiously as he stuck out his tongue to take an experimental lick, and after deciding the taste of the meat wasn’t so bad after all, he finally put it in his mouth and chewed slowly.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate,” he confessed and you urged him to try everything on the table.

“As an angel… you do not eat, right?”

“We don’t need to eat to live,” he confirmed and you nodded. “Sometimes, we are sent as a human to guide another. At the rare times that we have to play along, we get to experience some humane things- like eating.”

“So… you’re telling me that angels walk among us as humans?” You asked cautiously.

“So do demons, and other creatures that your mind can never comprehend,” he said, taking another bite of the food- at least he seemed to be enjoying this human experience. “Humans think they own this world. They are no more than specks in this infinite cosmos.”

You nodded slowly- you were not going to argue with that. You had felt less than a speck when you saw the angel back in the basement.

“Was that your true form, earlier?” You asked.

“If you ever saw my true form, your eyes and your limbs would burn,” he said casually and you made a mental note of that. “We are not the angels that you read about in your books. Even demons- you have seen them. That is not their true form- we take the shape of what the human eyes and mind can try to comprehend.”

“How do you know that I’ve seen them?”

The angel tapped the side of his- Seonghwa’s head. “I know everything about this human now that I’m in this body.”

“Is he really alive in there?”

“He is. I can’t say for how long,” he finished eating. “He is fighting for dominance. Perhaps, he might be able to take over after some struggle, but I will remain inside until we find a way to let me out.”

“You should know if there’s a prayer or ritual for that, right?” You asked.

“Hmm… let’s see. Would you like for your human to die? For you and your entire group to perish from the face of the Earth?”

“Of course not,” you narrowed your eyes. Was the angel trying to intimidate you, or was he serious?

“Then I suggest we do not tell the world that this poor angel is stuck in a human. May the Lord help us.”

“Your Lord must know, though. Will he help us?” You asked and the angel chuckled darkly.

“We’re just two pieces in his game of chess now.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you got up to clear the table. “Well, it’s late now. I suggest we pause the game and get some sleep then?”

“Sleep is for the humans-”

“And you are a human now,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t care if you sleep or not- just come with me.”

You instructed the angel to keep his mouth shut and let you do the talking. You told Dr. Choi to take care of the scans and with that, you both left for the Park Residence, a mansion in the most elite area of the town. You watched the angel look out of the window with curiosity and a hint of amazement- you couldn’t blame him. The mansion was truly something ethereal, especially from the outside with its white corinthian columns and stained glass windows.

“Someone like this human should have been living in the dungeons,” the angel whispered and you put a finger to your lips, unable to stifle a grin. “He does not deserve this beautiful palace.”

“He earned it through his blood, sweat and my tears. Give him some credit.”

“Who are you to this human?” He asked as you got out of the car. The secretaries welcomed the two of you and you dismissed them for the night.

“Can’t you tell?” You asked, tapping the side of your head like he had earlier.

“I can only see the memories. I cannot comprehend his emotions or feelings.”

“Do you not feel?” You asked, entering the mansion and being welcomed with the subtle warm lighting of the chandelier- dimmed for the nighttime- that reflected on the polished white marble. The subtle veins of gold running through the floor reminded you of the angel’s tears. You glanced at him and he hummed.

“This is a nice house.”

“See? You felt that it’s a nice house,” you pointed out.

“No, I can tell that it is a nice house because I can appreciate its craft,” he walked towards the staircase, fingers softly caressing the golden railing and its sleek curves.

“So you cannot feel human emotions? Sadness, happiness… love, hatred, anger?”

“And who said those are human emotions?” He asked, leaving you speechless. You followed him upstairs, letting him navigate through the empty corridor- if he had Seonghwa’s memories, he probably knew where to go.

“Humans possess the same attributes as angels and demons,” the angel explained. “Inherently, these attributes are innocent in nature but as a human lives and learns, they take a shape and become uniquely human. No human is angelic enough, nor demonic enough- though… this one might take the crown for being the most demonic.”

“There are worse humans, trust me. At least this one possesses some morals,” you muttered.

“And how do you weigh your morals? What is your scale to weigh them, human?” He asked and you shrugged- he was right. You couldn’t be the judge of that when your own morals were skewed.

“Well, you did see some good in me, didn’t you? When you were about to possess me?”

“You were the only good option, do not think of yourself too highly,” he almost reprimanded and your shoulders sagged in disappointment. He looked at you for confirmation before reaching the last room at the left section of the upper floor and you nodded. Once he entered the room, he looked around carefully.

The room was… lifeless, to put it simply. For starters, Seonghwa was meticulously neat and far too organised. There wasn’t a single thing in his room that was out of place, and the housekeepers made sure to maintain that as well. The pillows on his king-sized bed were neatly stacked. The monochrome aesthetic of his room with a hint of gold surprisingly both fit the aesthetic of the house and felt a bit odd. There was only an abstract monochrome painting with a splash of colours on one wall, and that was it.

“Well, this is where you will sleep- or try to,” you said, taking a seat on the grey couch that was far too comfortable and often somewhere you lounged when you invaded Seonghwa’s personal space. “And this is where I will watch you sleep.”

The angel regarded you with suspicion. “You will kill me in my sleep.”

“You’re far too valuable for me to kill, don’t worry,” you assured him and the angel felt an odd sense of comfort, though he questioned the reasons behind that. “I’m a doctor, so you can rest assured that I won’t let anything happen.”

“Are you not a shame to the medical community?” The angel candidly wondered out loud and you felt a pang of hurt.

“I won’t be when I’m done making use of your essence,” you promised bitterly. “Besides, I’m not your conventional doctor. I’m better than that.”

“You cut up humans to learn medicine. You are the worst kind.”

“And what is your scale to measure my morals?” You questioned, just a tiny bit of the pent up rage leaking in your voice. “Are you sure your scale is the right one, angel?”

The angel smirked- smirked at that, looking too much like the mafia lord in that instance. You released a short breath and got comfortable on the couch, unlocking your phone to check the updates. You paid no mind to the angel looking around and messing the room up until he got exhausted and lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I wish to return to the realms of the angels,” he whispered softly as sleep overpowered his consciousness. You looked up and watched his eyes flutter close, his breathing steady.

The angel was asleep. All you had to do was wait for the morning now.

“Fucking… bastard, thinks he is something to take control of me!”

The sound of two books colliding against each other with a thump, and the pent up sigh of frustration.

“Someone is going to die by my hands, and this fucking angel will be responsible for it-”

A smash- or perhaps, it felt like a smash because of the pounding in your head. You yawned unceremoniously, wiping your mouth and rubbing your eyes as you looked around-

You were in Seonghwa’s room- Seonghwa, who was now shirtless and sweating with anger, his upper body almost heaving with breathlessness. The muscles on his body seemed more pronounced and his veins were popping out. You considered pretending to go right back to sleep- maybe you could disappear into the couch if you stayed here long enough-

“You.”

“Hold up-” you raised your hand but when he started taking big steps towards you, you swallowed the scream that built in your throat and got up. Unfortunately, there was no way to get out of here and if you dared jump on Seonghwa’s freshly made bed (man was organising the mess the angel had made out of his room in his absence), the chances of him letting you live would lower exponentially. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and you slid under his arm to jump over his bed, making him curse some more under his breath.

He was quick, though. In a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the wall, his arm splayed across your neck to hold you in place and you grimaced.

“What have you done, y/n?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“You’re back, though, right?” You asked. “This is a good sign-”

“The angel is still inside- I can feel him here,” Seonghwa dug his finger into his temple. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you let them lower until they fixated on the big tattoo on his neck. MATZ, a reminder of what he had lost.

“Alright, let me go,” you demanded gently. “And we can talk like two civilised beings.”

“What will you do about this, huh?” Seonghwa asked, no longer simmering with rage but unmoving with his position.

“Why did you come inside the room during the ritual?” You questioned, awfully curious of the reason. “You heard the angel, right? The angel didn’t mean to possess you- I was his target. Why did you interfere, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa glared at you for a good few moments as if the answer to your question could be found in your eyes. However, there was no answer, and he let go of you. You took a deep breath, rubbing the soreness out of your collarbones.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. “Notice anything different?”

“Just a bit feverish, that’s all,” he admitted and you made note of that. “Find a way to undo this as soon as possible.”

“Already on it, don’t worry. I don’t like these turns of events. But… I’m also going to check the properties of the essence I managed to retrieve, and if I’m in need of more…”

“Get the angel out of my body,” he ordered, pronouncing every word threateningly.

“Got it,” you said in dismissal. If the angel’s essence was something of value… you would wring the angel dry before you would ever let him go. However, Seonghwa did not need to know that. You meekly smiled before walking towards his bed and smoothening the sheets. “What are you going to do?”

“Work,” he responded, “I’ve got a few meetings to attend and a few politicians to bribe.”

“How wonderful,” you commented. “Want me to come along?”

“I can handle it-”

“What if the angel… comes back?” You asked and Seonghwa paused in the middle of buttoning his black shirt. “Are you sure you can handle the consequences?”

For once, Seonghwa was silent and you sat on the edge of his bed, smirking. “I think I should stick with you until we’re sure the angel won’t take over randomly, at least. In case I see the angel is back, I can do most of the talking and make the angel shut up.”

“Why are you so sure that the angel won’t jeopardise my reputation?”

“Because, Seonghwa dear,” you got up and walked to him, buttoning the rest of his shirt and patting his chest. “I can end up killing him, and you in the process. The angel knows I’m capable of that.”

“I know you’re capable of that too,” Seonghwa said in a low voice, peering down at you. “Question is… will you?”

“Stay curious about that,” you told him with a smile, pressing on his chin affectionately like you always did. Seonghwa scoffed though he couldn’t help but break into a smile as well. You told him you would join him downstairs for breakfast and went to get ready.

Once in the privacy of your room, you took a deep breath, thinking and planning for what was next. There was absolutely no way you were going to leave Seonghwa alone. He was stuck with you and would have to remain under your supervision until this matter was sorted. It wouldn’t be unusual to tag along to his meetings and visits- you were his partner, and you were often present alongside him, but you were also a very busy person who was more occupied with lab work.

The lab wasn’t far from here, and while you trusted Dr. Choi, you never trusted anyone enough. You were going to monitor his progress and work with him too. You needed to see the composition of the angel’s tears and experiment with it- but when?

You looked in the mirror, the bags under your eyes more prominent and your cheeks looking sunken. You sighed deeply- it looked like you would be sacrificing your sleep quite a lot now.

And if sacrificing your sleep meant you would be basking in Seonghwa’s presence? So be it. That’s all you ever wanted anyways.

While Seonghwa was the same old person that he had always been, albeit more distant than ever thanks to the being inside his head that ‘wouldn’t stop whispering to him’, as he claimed. You could not blame the mafia boss for being on edge- apart from the fact that he was running a constant low fever, his senses seemed to be heightened as well. The lights felt too bright to him, the noise was too loud, and you-

You gulped as he flicked the dagger between his fingers effortlessly, contemplating if he wanted to slice you open or slice his own head open to extract the source of the constant whisperings.

“Look, it’s only been a few days, it will get better-”

Yet another dagger thrown at the board behind you, narrowly avoiding your cheekbone but definitely trimming the strands of your hair that were sticking out. You didn’t even flinch this time, but you were losing your patience too.

“Park Seonghwa,” you warned. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will. I won’t be responsible for what happens next. You have a meeting with Assemblyman Hwang later. He’s willing to buy drugs from you, and I know you want that meeting to go smoothly.”

Seonghwa slumped back in his office chair and folded his arms as if feeling cold. “I never said that I want you to leave me alone. But the sight of you… how do I put it…”

“Yeah, I know you hate me for obvious reasons, but technically-”

“Don’t say another word.”

You lowered your finger and zipped your lips. Technically, it was his fault and he knew that, which was the reason why he was so agitated.

Seonghwa and the angel inside him were in a constant battle for dominance of their body. For Seonghwa, there was a motive- it was his body, and the angel was a foreigner. A parasite, almost. You still did not know why the angel wanted to be dominant in this body and take control so badly when all he did once he managed to take over was crouch in a corner, away from the rest of the world. He would barely answer any of your questions and you half-wondered if he wanted to kill himself.

There wasn’t a specific trigger either. Seonghwa would be functioning as normally as a feverish human could- a bit sluggish in his movements but alert nonetheless- and a loud groan of pain later, the angel would take over, finish doing whatever Seonghwa had been doing and go to sulk. You were pretty sure Seonghwa did not need to tell the angel to act like a human- the angel himself did not want to be seen.

Perhaps, that was why he chose the darkest of the corners to hide, away from the light of this world.

The angel must miss the light of his world.

“The meeting is in a few hours,” Seonghwa reminded himself. “And I would like the angel to not take over-”

In some sort of a twisted notion of revenge, or karma, or whatever word you could use to explain the unfortunate luck of the mafia boss, he let out a foreboding painful groan and clutched at his chest, his eyes rolling back before he shut them. You watched with mild interest, shaking your head.

The angel was back.

“Hello, angel baby,” you called, beckoning him to open his eyes. His brown pupils glowed momentarily before he regained focus.

“Do not call me such terms,” the angel commanded and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I cannot call you by your name with my ‘filthy human tongue’,” you reminded him and he frowned. “I cannot call you angel, or angel baby- which is my favourite term, by the way. I like the look you have on your face when I call you that-”

The angel was beginning to look weary already and you smiled guiltily.

“What do I call you?”

“I… do not know,” he looked down at his hands, the dagger falling to the table with a clatter when he noticed that it was in his hand. “Did I say that you have a filthy human tongue?”

“Yes? Back when I summoned you in the basement?”

“I must have been very angry. I apologise. You do not have a filthy human tongue.”

You let out a short laugh. “I wasn’t affected by it, don’t worry. You don’t need to apologise, you’re literally an angel.”

“Has your heart been hardened so much that these terms no longer affect you?” The angel asked softly and you licked your lips in thought.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I guess I’m used to hearing things like these.”

“This man cares for you yet hardened your heart to this point,” the angel commented, clasping his hands and watching you with curiosity. “It is interesting what humans say out loud as opposed to the words they choose not to say.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re quite talkative today, angel.”

“I suppose I got tired of the solitude- it gave me no answers. You might, though.”

You raised your shoulders to tell him that you were right here and as oblivious to the situation as he himself was.

“Since you’re in a good mood,” you began. “We must talk about some important things. It might help speed up your, uh, departure process.”

“Let’s hear what you have to say,” the angel said, tucking his hair away from his eyes and looking to his left at his reflection, wincing at the sight of Seonghwa’s half-tied hair and glamorous suit.

“Why do you take over this body at random times? I mean, is there a trigger, or do you just say fuck it we ball?”

“What does that mean?” The angel frowned.

“Just… tell me why you took over Seonghwa now, of all the times,” you sighed.

“Because he has an important meeting, and he thinks that he can keep me at bay,” the angel responded, straightening. “I am here to prove that he, in fact, cannot keep me at bay. It is I who chooses to be dominant, whenever I prefer.”

“Well,” you drawled. This was news to you. “If you want to coexist in this body without any drastic consequences, I suggest you not try to mess with Seonghwa, especially when he has something important coming. It’s for the sake of both of you, because I know that he will try something stupid to get you to cooperate, and I would rather make an agreement with you and solve this predicament like civilised people.”

“I will take over whenever I like,” the angel insisted.

“Please?” You pouted and he stared at your doe-eyes with an intensity that made you want to take back your words.

“Fine. I can leave him alone when he has something important, but I do not have to answer why I take over any time else.”

Just like that? You frowned momentarily.

“While we’re at it…” you asked experimentally. “Can you be a sweetheart and come with me to the lab? There’s just a few things I have to check- vitals, bloodwork and such. I won’t ask you to cry and give me your essence, don’t worry.”

“What if I do not want to?” He cocked his head and asked.

“Do you want me to beg again?” You laughed. “Please, come with me. It’s for your sake.”

The angel tightened his lips in thought and nodded just a few seconds later. “Fine.”

“You’re not hard to convince,” you commented as he got up.

“I have no choice but to cooperate.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” You teased, going towards the hatstand and grabbing Seonghwa’s coat, sliding in front of the angel and offering to help him wear it. He gave you a sceptic look before slipping the coat on, a hint of a smile on his lips that you decided not to comment on.

“Angels do not lie,” he said, taking the lead and pretending to be Seonghwa- of which he was an expert now, as if Seonghwa himself was instructing him what to do. You went to the parking lot and asked the driver to take you both to the lab.

“We don’t have much time, so I’ll make this quick,” you whispered once inside the car. The angel nodded and you spent the duration of the trip in silence, the angel watching the world from the tinted window of the car. You almost felt sorry for him in that instance.

Once inside the lab, you greeted Dr. Choi who was writing some formulas on the board.

“I’ve managed to break down the chemical composition of the essence. I’m surprised to see it’s very similar to the demonic essence we managed to acquire two years ago,” he said, watching Seonghwa with caution. “Is that the angel in front of me?”

“Yes,” you put on your reading glasses to skim through his notes. “That was one of the greater demons, right?”

“That’s what they claimed,” Dr. Choi muttered, motioning the angel to sit on one of the chairs. “What’s different is that the angel’s essence is more stable and safer to work with-”

“You will never be able to use an angel’s essence for medicine,” the angel declared casually and you both looked at him. “The existence of angels is supposed to be a mystery. There has never been an instance of an angel leaving a trace in the human world- by trace, I mean physical evidence. With demons, it is different- they have their own realms and rules.”

“We could change that,” you suggested. “This could be the first instance of it in history.”

“As soon as you spread it, and as soon as news of it reaches the realms of the angels, there will be a ‘natural catastrophe’ that will wipe off your existence and mine from the face of this earth.”

You cursed, looking at Dr. Choi who seemed more scared than annoyed, unlike you. You turned to the angel. “How will the angel realm ever know that we are using angelic essence in, say, drugs or medicines?”

“Demons track the consumers of their essence. When you and your evil boss sell demonic drugs, you put a red target on its consumers for the demons to prey on- and they feast on it,” the angel practically spat. “They make sure the consumers- the humans- do their bidding in return. So when you replace that with angelic essence, you will only be making it easier for the angels to find the humans they need to eradicate from this world.”

“Well, isn’t that lovely to hear,” you muttered. “What about experimentation here?”

“Your test subjects are bound to die. Any one of them that makes it out alive would not live long enough- and I told you that you cannot let the angel realm know that I am stuck inside this human. Does your life mean nothing to you?”

You looked at Dr. Choi who got the signal and left the room, saying he had to get dinner anyway. Then you turned towards the angel and walked closer, seating yourself in front of him.

“This is what my life means to me,” your tone was no longer soft. “I’ve worked hard all my life for this moment-”

“But some things are not meant to be,” the angel looked almost sad to inform you of that. “And that is okay.”

You gritted your teeth as you stared at him- how dare he look at you with pity? The rational part of your mind knew that he was absolutely right and that this was a shot in the dark anyway- you could still study the angel’s essence and at least learn something from it. But the emotional part inside you was currently fighting for dominance and for a moment, you felt sorry for Seonghwa- this battle inside him must be what he was going through at every moment.

It was your fault.

“I’ll check your vitals and take your blood,” you muttered, getting up and grabbing a kit. You wore medical gloves, checked his temperature and blood pressure, extracted some blood and ran some quick scans. Everything seemed normal and at least that was a relief.

When you finished and took off your gloves, you said that you were going to check his pulse and moved to grab his wrist. At the slightest touch, the angel pulled his wrist away as if your touch had burned him. You frowned and tried again, wondering if that was just a reflex, but he deliberately moved out of your range and you gaped at him.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, rendered speechless by the cautious look in his eyes. “Why won’t you let me check your pulse?”

The angel’s tense body never relaxed but he allowed himself to return to his original sitting position, eyes still a little wide from the previous interaction.

“Do you think my filthy touch will taint your body?” You asked, wariness dripping from your voice. You almost expected him to look at you with disdain.

“That is not why, no,” he sounded upset instead, moving to grab your wrist instead, flinching slightly again at the touch but relaxing soon after, curling your fingers with his. “I am sorry.”

You kept staring at him in confusion, watching him fidget a bit until he finally gave in.

“It has been a while since I remembered what human touch feels like.”

Oh.

All those times, deliberately moving out of your way and avoiding touching any humans, and now… caressing your hand and holding it with both hands, tracing the curves of your knuckles and marvelling at the sensation that he felt, cautiously meeting your eyes as if there was an implied sin somewhere that he was scared of committing-

All because he was touch-starved?

You shifted your fingers to rest your thumb on his pulse, locking eyes with him and silently counting while you found yourself relaxing, almost entranced by the way he looked at you. So shy, yet determined.

This was not Seonghwa. This was not the man you had spent all your life with. He had never looked at anyone this way.

“Hwa…” you whispered and the angel frowned in confusion. You squeezed his hand.

“I’ll call you Hwa.”

The fire behind those eyes, the flame in those pupils and the warmth of his touch. Seonghwa’s anger. ‘Hwa’. He held your hand between both of his as if it was a holy relic and planted a soft kiss on your knuckles, shutting his eyes and relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. The lips as soft as the petals of a flower. Hwa- that’s what the name meant.

“Thank you for giving me a name.”

You did not need to check your own pulse to realise that your heart was racing as much as his heart- perhaps, in a twisted synchrony.

The meeting with Assemblyman Hwang had gone smoothly without any disruptions with Seonghwa signing a deal that would expand his drug business while giving him protection from the law. However, your interaction with the angel at the lab had left a bitter aftertaste on Seonghwa’s tongue. While he never talked about that interaction or mentioned your new name for the angel, you could tell that he was conflicted about your behaviour with his ‘alter ego’, as you had termed it.

And how could he not be confused? ‘Hwa’ was a foreigner in his body, doing whatever he pleased. The angel was opening up to human experiences more with each passing day and trying different things that Seonghwa himself would never do. The angel seemed to have a fondness for water bodies and mostly, when he took over, he would find the pool and either sit with his legs submerged or just float in the water while staring at the ceiling, as if he could see the stars or heavens, or whatever the angel saw in the sky in his realm.

Seonghwa would be lying if he said that having an angel inside him wasn’t… enlightening, to say the least. While he could not look into the angel’s memories like the angel could, he was intrigued by everything the angel had to share. It made him question his beliefs, but it also strengthened his ambitions.

As for you… it had only been a few days yet the little things were starting to get to Seonghwa. You spoke to the angel so gently and carelessly. You indulged in whatever the angel had to say or did. You entertained him and satiated his curiosity. You let him look at you or touch you however he wanted.

Were you doing it because you wanted something out of the angel? Did you think you could win his heart or convince him to create the medicinal drug for you? Or were you doing this out of fear? Fear for your life, for Seonghwa’s life? Or… was the sadistic side of you enjoying Seonghwa’s misery?

He would not be getting answers to that any time soon, and he would not dare ask you for a multitude of reasons- the first and foremost being that he did not want to sound like he cared. Whatever you did with the angel should not be affecting him as long as you remained within your limits and didn’t cross some invisible boundaries, he told himself and hoped you were aware of that too.

He was not going to lie and say it didn’t sting a little that you barely looked at him anymore when he was Seonghwa. He had to do stupid things to get your attention now, such as-

“If you poke me one more time, god help me Seonghwa, I will break your fingers.”

There you were.

You did have phases like these, where Seonghwa would wonder if you were growing distant from him or had found something- or someone- better than him. Seonghwa was a manipulative bastard and he always made sure that you were within his sight. He never allowed you to look too far, and whoever looked your way? Well… they would be subject to an unfortunate fate soon after.

You were his. His little doctor, his only friend, his family if he ever had one, his everything, yet… nothing. Perhaps, the last part was a lie, the angel had suggested in one of his whispers. Perhaps, the angel was right. But admitting it would mean that he had a weakness, and Park Seonghwa did not have any weaknesses. He had made that mistake once and lost a dear brother, the reminder of which was inked on his neck so he would never forget.

So why did this little phase feel different, almost threatening to him?

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You asked, but when he raised a brow in amusement, you shut up.

You had brought this upon yourself, bounding him with yourself to keep him ‘under surveillance’. He definitely did not have anything better to do at home in the late hours of night. He had wrapped up his work in the evening and accompanied you to the lab for the daily check-ups and for the past few hours, he had been rolling around on his bed. There was nothing to plan, nothing to scheme for once. He just watched you study and make notes on your devices and before you knew it, he had joined you on the couch, poking at your sides once in a while, making you swat at him in dismissal as if he were a mere fly.

Perhaps, all his talk about being ‘the boss’ had not worked very well, after all. He should have never let you get so close- or gotten so close- because you sure had a way of acting like the one in charge sometimes. The small, almost non-existent emotional part in his brain told him that you certainly helped with his loneliness and he had to agree. You were a crutch now.

“You know I can’t sleep well with all this incessant sound of your typing- why do you type so loudly on a screen?”

“The sounds help me focus,” you told him. “Let Hwa take over. He’ll sleep for the both of you.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “You want me gone that bad?”

“Aw, is the mafia boss hurt?” You mocked, going back to highlighting an important line in the research paper- perhaps, the tenth paper of the night. You were scrounging through them for any information on working with a chemical bond as unique and complex as the angel’s essence.

When Seonghwa didn’t answer or threaten to kill you, which was the likelier response, you looked at him to find him with a sombre expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Something is,” you shifted your attention to him. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… confused,” he admitted. “Having someone live inside you does that to you, I suppose.”

You shrugged, watching him carefully. “If you have a problem, you can ask me. You know that, right? Forget about the ranks for once, Seonghwa. You know you can trust me.”

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “I just don’t like this. That’s all there is to it.”

You pouted. Nothing you could do about that.

Seonghwa had a multitude of questions to ask you about the angel but he decided to hold them for now. Instead, he locked your devices and took your hands, steering you to the bed. You laughed- your old Seonghwa was back. He tucked you in the sheets, just like he had done a thousand times now when you were little and would fall asleep in the middle of studying. Dimming the lights until there was only one lamp at the front of the room, its white light creating a soft halo effect in the room, he got on the other side and silence took over. The sounds of your unsynchronised breaths started to fill the room.

You turned your neck to find him wide awake, staring at the ceiling. You felt a pang of longing inside you- you wished you could hold him and tell him that it would soon be over, that you were sorry, that you wished you could make it better and you did not like seeing him acting so unlike himself-

“Shut up, you’re too loud,” he said and you snickered. You shifted until you were facing him though he didn’t move.

“What did you hear?”

“You’re sorry. You don’t like when I act strange, though you do enjoy it,” he spared you a glance and you grinned.

“That’s only half of it, though.”

“Would I want to hear the other half?” He asked.

“Well… some things are better left unsaid for a reason, eh?”

Seonghwa shifted to mirror your position, now facing each other. It was a good thing that there was still a respectable distance between you two. Sleeping like this had never been a problem- you didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in separate spaces for most part of your childhood, and once you did have the luxury, you would find each other anyway.

“Something tells me I should hear it anyway.”

“Ah, it’s the sentimental Seonghwa tonight, I see,” you retorted and when he shot you a glare, you gave in. “I wish I could make this situation better for you.”

“Hmm… you’re doing your best, though. Try harder from tomorrow,” he ordered and you muttered a ‘yes sir’. “What’s the last bit?”

You bit your lips- would you dare tell him now? If he pushed you away, you would have to live with that.

But then… he pushed you away all the time anyway, and there was Hwa. He made up for it.

“I just…” you started, finding his hand under the sheets and brushing your fingers against his. He remained still. “I just want you to hold on if things get hard.”

“Things will get better,” Seonghwa said, the words sounding like a lie even to himself. “I know I could die, we both could if the angels or anyone finds out about this, but… it will be okay. We will survive this, y/n. We always do.”

“I don’t want to live through that pain again,” you whispered.

“Tsk. You’re strong. You’re a warrior, and you will survive,” he assured you. “I will make sure you do.”

While he did not hold your hand, he let your fingers remain where they were, caressing his and you moved just a bit so you could lightly link them. A shaky breath left your lips as you allowed yourself to relax, welcoming sleep and leaving Seonghwa to wonder if he could say the same about himself- would he survive this ordeal?

He would wonder about that later.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you were greeted by the sight of Seonghwa who was already awake and watching you. You frowned, rubbing your eyes and moving to check the time before slumping right back- you could still get a few minutes of sleep.

You shut your eyes and curled your body, fisting the sheets, your head spinning with drowsiness. About a minute passed when you realised that the person watching you sleep wasn’t Seonghwa-

It was the angel.

You opened one eye to find him watching you with the softest gaze, lips parted. Your heart would have swooped if you weren’t half asleep.

“Never watched a human sleep, eh?” You asked, voice raspy.

“Not like this- not so closely,” he admitted.

And perhaps, the drowsiness was getting to your head. You moved closer, tucking your head under his chin. The angel’s body tensed and you grinned to yourself- your bodies were still maintaining a distance but at least he wouldn’t be able to see your sleepy face.

“There we go. You can take an even closer look now,” you said, preparing to go back to sleep.

“I cannot see you anymore,” the angel complained.

“Perhaps, that is the whole point,” you told him.

“I suppose I can try something else then.”

Before you could ask what was going on in his head, he was tucking you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. For a few moments, drowsiness left and clarity overcame your senses- Seonghwa had never cuddled like this with you. This- one arm draped over your waist, keeping you close, his other hand caressing your hair in an attempt to lull you back to sleep, your breaths synchronising with the rise and fall of his chest…

Heavens above.

“Do I scare you?” The angel asked cautiously and you made the mistake of looking up, finding his eyes filled with worry.

“No,” you admitted, watching his expressions morph into what had to be happiness.

“Then relax, and get your fill of sleep.”

Easier said than done. The fact that it was ultimately Seonghwa’s body and his voice made this entire situation more difficult to comprehend. However, there was no other choice but to relax in the angel’s touch and perhaps, that’s what you were meant to do for now. You relaxed a bit and fisted his shirt- Seonghwa’s shirt- instead of the sheets.

And when you woke up later, the angel was asleep, looking content. You knew it was the angel because Seonghwa looked like he was fighting demons even in his sleep. You smiled at the sight, daring to caress the angel- Seonghwa’s- face, feeling something sad building inside you. You tucked his hair away, the strands as soft as you remembered from years ago. You ran your fingers through his hair-

Wincing when you felt a sharp burn against your finger. You drew away your hand, finding a small part of your index finger singed- was there something in his hair? You cautiously ran your hand through his hair again-

A little yelp escaped your mouth as you felt a sharper burn this time and you clutched at your hand, a small red welt near your thumb now-

“Oh, dear,” the angel was awake and inspecting your hand worriedly. You looked at him in confusion and surprise as he shut his eyes to say a prayer, holding your hand to his forehead and then bringing it to his lips, planting soft kisses on the burns that seemed to be patching up as if there was never a wound in the first place.

You gasped in disbelief, inspecting your hand. “How did you do that?”

“I am sorry,” the angel’s brows were furrowed in pain as if he himself had received those burns. “I did not mean to- it is probably my halo. I did not know it would burn even as a human.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, examining your hand. “I’m all patched up now, aren’t I?”

“I hurt you-”

“It’s okay,” you broke into a smile. “It didn’t hurt too much- I was more surprised.”

“I burned you-”

“Hwa,” you cupped his face, making him look at you, his eyes glazed. “I’m a strong girl. These little burns don’t make me feel much. I receive burns all the time, see?” You showed him your hands and arms, littered with faded scars of burns. “In my field, you get used to it.”

“Your skin is not meant to be marred like this.”

“But humans carry the marks of their life all the time,” you told him. “Don’t you carry something like that too? If not on your body… in your heart?”

Hwa looked at you with thoughtful eyes, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, never letting go of your hands as you moved to sit in front of him. He sighed deeply, unable to meet your eyes.

“Do you want me to heal them?” He asked cautiously. You shook your head no.

“Each mark on my body tells a story. I’d like to keep them,” you explained.

“Can I… kiss your hands anyway?”

Oh. He was going to be the death of you.

“Do you have a thing for my hands, sir?” You joked. “These aren’t the prettiest hands ever, I can find you a better pair-”

The angel ignored your rambling, planting soft kisses on the back of both your hands before he looked up. “To me, they are beautiful, because they tell your story.”

“Hwa- you can’t just kiss my hands and act all normal afterwards. This is not normal.”

“I am an angel,” he told you, kissing each of your knuckles, looking almost drunk with his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “Normal cannot define or bound me.”

Your eyes twitched in half anger and half… submission.

“What are you trying to do, Hwa? What are you trying to pull?”

“Do you think I have some hidden intentions?” He asked almost dangerously, and you thought that he looked obsessive for a second. “I- I only wanted to experience this feeling, and if you want to push me away, I will go back to hide in the corners-”

“What feeling do you want to experience so badly?”

“Being human,” he said, almost spat as if the idea appalled him too. “I cannot tell if it is the human in me making me feel so strange, but I want to touch and be touched. I want to live- I want to eat like humans do and savour the flavours on my tongue. I want to bask in the sun until it starts to burn me and float in the pool until I feel one with the water. I want to hold another human, feel their heartbeat against mine, do something about the yearning in my heart- I’ve never felt like this.”

For once, you had nothing to say. You simply watched the angel curl in on himself, looking like a broken piece.

“And I’m scared,” said the wounded soul. “I’m scared that I will never be able to go back to my realm. I’m scared of being okay with that. I’m scared of enjoying these human experiences. What if I do not hate the idea of being human and they find me? I do not want to die a human, yet…”

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding you,” you did not hesitate to pull the angel in your arms. If this was what he needed, you could give him that. The angel sucked in a breath but quickly melted in your arms, clutching at you almost childishly.

“I think I understand you,” you caressed his head, not caring how it burned your skin. “You’re a human, for now, whether you like it or not. This is your chance to experience what it is like to be a human without any boundaries. No one is stopping you, and I… I will protect you… until you are ready to go back. I hope you will be welcomed with open arms when you go back. You must miss your home so much, Hwa. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that- you do not have to be human to miss your home.”

Hwa buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep breaths. You winced at your damaged hands, resorting to hold him still instead.

“Have you always been this mellow, oh angel?” You asked.

“This is who I am,” the angel admitted, drawing away. “But you have seen how angry I can get.”

“Yeah, angry is an ugly look even on angels,” you agreed, shivering at the memory when you felt like he would have obliterated your existence with a mere swipe of his finger. You showed him your hands and he winced, looking apologetic but you smiled, making pride swell in his heart. With a prayer, he kissed every burn mark until your hands were back to normal.

“I will try to refrain from caressing your head from now on,” you stretched your fingers. “My hands are precious to me, thank you very much.”

The angel laughed, a small part of him knowing you wouldn’t be able to do that. You shared a laugh, smacking his back and asking him to get up and join you for breakfast.

Once again, in the privacy of your room, you crumbled to the floor.

What were you doing? Letting the angel touch and hold you like that- he was supposed to be the touch-starved being, but you were no better. How could you do this to yourself- to Seonghwa?

Just what were you getting yourself into?

And why did the consequences of your actions not scare you?

Everything seemed to be in order in your life and Seonghwa’s, yet it had never been like this before.

Seonghwa never talked about your intimate interaction with the angel- you knew that he was able to see fragments of what was happening through the shared subconsciousness, and if he tried, he could even share consciousness now given that the angel would not resist.

Either Seonghwa did not mind, which was unlikely, or for once, he had nothing to say, which was odd. He always had something to say about every situation, and his silence was louder than ever.

However, his behaviour was the same- in fact, he had grown more understanding in the past few days. Understanding of his situation, of the lack of control he had over his own body. Understanding that you were still trying to find ways to get the angel out of his body, contacting every demon summoner and going to dangerous places with him to learn more about the dark arts. You would never tell a soul that you were doing this for an angel.

You had also started to look into the history of angels, and while the angel himself didn’t share much about his realm- sworn to secrecy, perhaps- he guided you anyway. He was able to confirm or deny whatever you read about angels.

You came across his real name in one of the books and learned that he was an angel of fire- while he was not an archangel, he was considered to be one of the angels with their own conscience, which meant that he was capable of sin. You were confused about that topic so the angel silently turned the pages of your book until you were at the section of ‘Fallen Angels’.

That day, the angel wished to go out and fly, so you took him to the mountains instead where you sat on the edge of a rock and watched the world below. That’s when you asked him if there really was good and evil in every human.

“Humans are not inherently good, but humans lack the desire to sin when they are younger. As they grow older in their intellect, the desire to sin becomes something appealing to them. The more a person sins, the more evil they become until the goodness in their heart is nowhere to be found.”

“Do you think there’s any good in Seonghwa’s heart?” You asked and the angel looked at you. Dressed like Seonghwa in a fur coat with his hair twisted back and tied, you almost thought it was Seonghwa himself sitting beside you.

“Do you believe there is good in this human’s heart?” The angel questioned.

“Maybe,” you pouted.

“Does it matter to you if there is?”

“If it mattered, I would have left long ago,” you admitted and the angel nodded.

“I cannot say if there is good in this heart, but there was something that pulled me to him instead of you, when I was going to possess you. Maybe the evil inside me resonated with his nature.”

“But you’re an angel,” you looked at him. “You’re not evil.”

“There is the desire in me to sin, therefore I am capable of being evil,” the angel responded. “I feel as if I am sinning even now. Sitting with a human, stuck inside one, unable to perform my duties…”

“Do you hate being evil so much? If this is what evil is to you?”

The angel did not answer your question. And it got you thinking that maybe, there was a goodness inside Seonghwa that created the space for the angel. If that was the case, there was evil inside the angel too. Maybe, this was the true meaning of balance- a human too evil, and an angel too good, yet both containing a little kernel of pureness and darkness in their hearts- both coexisting inside one body.

But if being human was what encompassed the idea of being evil for an angel, this angel sure was enjoying the most mundane experiences. He was no longer opposed to trying out new things- a smoke, which had him coughing his lungs out later, cotton candy from the stall because it looked like clouds (Seonghwa was not pleased about that, claiming it left an aftertaste in his mouth), and food. Food of all kinds because apparently, the human had not been enjoying eating lately.

The angel’s curiosity wasn’t satiated with just that. You almost felt as if you were teenagers again and going on dates. From picking flowers in gardens to learning how to ride a bike. You made sure all your outings were away from the eyes of the staff or anyone who could recognise you, because you were sure no one would like the most notorious mafia leader in the town wiping dust off the petals of flowers or screaming like a banshee before falling down from the bicycle unceremoniously.

The angel- Hwa- was laughing like a human and it warmed your heart because Seonghwa had never been able to laugh like that. His laugh was pure and unrestrained, something humans usually wished for. His eyes sparkled as he observed the human world, watching and learning the concept of a family, of friends, of lovers. You could only wish Seonghwa was learning something along with the angel too.

While the angel started growing closer to you, the human started growing distant. Whenever Seonghwa took control of his body, he would busy himself with work and not correspond with you much- on anything. It would be up to you to update him of the recent developments, or learnings, or whatever you wished to tell him- he seemed the most uninterested. He didn’t care anymore if you wanted to talk, keep him under your surveillance or leave him alone. It was almost as if he had sworn himself to the silent treatment.

This wasn’t the first time he behaved that way, but it was different this time. Whenever you did something wrong or made any sort of mistake, it was a given that Seonghwa was going to give you the cold shoulder for at least a couple of weeks. You could try to make him give in- bribe him with something that he could not resist (the latest Lego usually did the trick- he may be the mafia boss but he loved his legos) or treat him to something nice. That usually solved the matter, but each time you were not allowed to defend yourself. Sure, he would hear you out occasionally, but he would rarely ever be convinced.

This time was different. While he did not consciously push you away, his behaviour was doing nothing to help you. It was getting harder for you to not look forward to Hwa taking over- at least he didn’t look at you with contempt. Something was off about Seonghwa, and you were trying to ask him what was bothering him so much- he refused to meet eyes with you or converse with you properly and you knew no bribery could resolve this.

“Have we dispatched the first batch of drugs to Assemblyman Hwang?”

“We have, it’s written there,” you pointed at his tab and he hummed, dodging your question once again. You decided to change the topic.

“Do you think we should try something like exorcism? An angelic version of it? The theory doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel like.”

You stared at him- he was trying so hard to act normal. This wasn’t going to work.

“Are there any more documents to sign? My fingers are starting to hurt- you know how I was in the lab all day working with specimens-”

“So?” Seonghwa dropped the pen and finally looked at you, eyes cold enough to send a shiver along your spine. “Do you want the angel to take over and worship your hands again?”

You scoffed in disbelief, wondering if that was a joke. When he went back to marking notes, you tapped on the table to get his attention.

“Say that again,” you challenged.

“We all know how much you crave affection,” Seonghwa muttered. “Good thing the angel is willing to show you some, at least.”

Unbelievable. This was what was bothering him?

“I asked you time and time again to tell me if something was bothering you- why did you keep your feelings bottled up only to stab me with your words now?” You asked. “You think I enjoy the fact that you’re sharing your body with an angel? Forget about what the angel does, you think I really want you to disappear?”

“It sure feels like that sometimes. You’re doing well without me, aren’t you?” Seonghwa scoffed.

You felt blood rush to your head, making your vision go red for a moment. Rage.

“I’m cooperating with the angel, Seonghwa. I’m playing along with anything the angel wants so you don’t have to suffer, you miserable, miserable bastard. I’m doing all of this so that the angel shares consciousness with you and does not mess up your business- or would you rather have the angel taking over and actively fighting back? Fuck you,” you spat, throwing your own pen across the table which he barely caught.

Not a hint of remorse in those eyes, though his little smirk had disappeared.

“You’ve always sheltered me all your life,” you got up, lowering your voice and this time, guilt did flash in his eyes for a mere second. “You’ve made sure I had no one except you, and you made sure my eyes only found you- that I only looked at you. So forgive me, Seonghwa, if you finally look back for once and I still find my defences crumbling when it isn’t even you.”

With that, you turned to pick up your belongings and leave-

And when you heard the familiar sigh that marked the angel taking over, you froze.

Had Hwa perhaps heard that? All of that?

You cautiously looked at him, finding his eyes filled with hurt. He almost looked grieved.

“Hwa-”

“Stop,” the angel raised his hand in the air, his voice dripping with sadness. “Not another word-”

“No, listen-”

“I know what I mean to you now,” Hwa said with a restrained voice as if still struggling to accept what he had heard. “There is nothing more that you can offer me.”

“I only said all of that because of Seonghwa,” you explained gently. “I did not mean that-”

“Yeah, Seonghwa heard that,” the angel said, shutting his eyes. “The damage has been done, human. To both of us.”

“Hwa, angel,” you dropped your stuff and took a few steps towards him but he left the room, leaving you regretting every word that you had said. Your eyes welled with tears and you took a few deep breaths, the tight feeling in your throat growing with each passing second.

You needed to find him- Hwa.

You looked in Seonghwa’s room first, but he wasn’t there. You wondered if he went to the pool and on your way there, you searched the rooms, asking the few staff members who were present if they had seen their boss around. None of them had.

And when you found the pool empty, you sank to the ground and buried your face between your knees, letting out choked sobs- it had been years since you had cried. You were not sure if you were crying because of Seonghwa, or Hwa, or just everything-

But it looked like you would be filling the pool with your tears tonight.

You cried until there were no more tears left, until your clothes were soaked. You sobbed until your throat felt raw, your nails leaving dents in your skin where you dug them in your palm. You silently cried until you heard the familiar footsteps, and it was almost surprising how that triggered a fresh stream of tears.

Was that Seonghwa? Or was that the wretched angel who had taken over your mind and soul? It didn’t matter anymore-

“Why do you cry, my dear?”

The damned angel. You brought your knees closer in an attempt to hide your face, but it looked like the angel was not going to give up. He sat in front of you, taking your hands in his and making you flinch visibly. Hurt, he let go of them.

“What is the reason for your tears?” He asked gently. You took a deep breath, sneaking a peek and finding his eyes puffy as well.

“Don’t tell me that you cried and wasted your essence,” you muttered, making the angel shake his head in disbelief.

“I told you that the essence is of no use to you. I wiped every trace of it, don’t worry.”

You sighed, burying your head back between your knees. This time, when the angel hesitantly brushed his fingers against yours, you didn’t flinch away. However, he made no attempt to hold your hands either, only tracing the outlines of your fingers.

“I am sorry for my behaviour,” the angel said and you looked up at him. “I should have given you a chance to speak. I know humans say things they do not mean all the time- and if it is of any relief to you, your human Seonghwa did not mean to hurt you like that either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “The damage has been done.”

The angel gave you a look. “You have a habit of throwing my words back at me.”

“It’s the truth, though,” you said, getting up and the angel followed. You wiped your face, tired. “I meant what I said. Every word of it. Yet…”

You looked sideways, biting your lips to keep more words from spilling. The angel looked at you expectantly.

“Seonghwa is not able to hear or see anything right now- I’ve pushed him back. So you can say what you want to me.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m not spending time with you because I’m scared of you, or scared of what you will do to Seonghwa. Yes, initially I was- of course I would be. I’m only a human and you’re a divine being. However… I don’t know, Hwa. I’ve always wanted Seonghwa to really look at me, to acknowledge me. And when you look at me, when you are with me… strangely, I find myself forgetting all about Seonghwa.”

“Is that the truth?” He asked cautiously and you nodded. You weren’t going to lie now.

“I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing, but I just want you to know that I like you. I’m not simply cooperating with you, I like spending time with you- just you, the angel who’s beginning to live like a human. I know I’m supposed to get you out of this body even if it means that you get hurt in the process, and frankly, I’m still searching for a way to get you out, but…”

“But?” The angel asked and you mustered the last bits of courage in you, for the final declaration- the one you were too afraid to admit and even more scared to say out loud.

“Tell me,” the angel beckoned, taking a step towards you. You let your eyes scan him- the body of Seonghwa, clad in a black shirt and slacks, yet not his demeanour. Seonghwa’s face, yet unlike any expressions he had worn. His messy curls falling on his face only made him look more human, and it hurt.

“I don’t want you to leave, angel,” you confessed with a short laugh, letting the angel wonder what that meant. You turned to leave- at least you could put distance between the two of you-

“Then stay. Make me stay,” the angel’s voice was firm, almost as commanding as Seonghwa’s, but authoritative in an entirely different manner. A request, a favour. A plea.

“You’re an angel,” you reminded him, your voice wavering. “You are supposed to be performing your duties, you are supposed to be righteous and not give in to sin.”

“Yet here I am,” he shrugged, smiling in defeat. “Falling from grace and finding pleasure in sin- if this is what sin is.”

“Can I really ask you to stay?” You held your breath.

“You could ask me to fall from the heavens, and I would. I think I have already fallen. And I’m afraid of what I will let myself do for you, so stay, please.”

This was an angel, ready to sink to his knees for you. Your breath quickened as you turned, your heart ready to burst from the sheer amount of emotions.

“Where’s Seonghwa?”

“Not anywhere near,” the angel confirmed, the two of you moving towards each other, the magnetic pull stronger than ever. Your arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, laughter bubbling out from the angel’s body and you soon joined- smiling in relief.

This was where you were meant to be. In his arms, feeling safe. Feeling loved.

You broke apart, his hands resting on the dip of your waist. You brought your hands to wipe the remnants of his tears from his eyelids, shaking your head and he smiled guiltily. Your gaze stuck on his parted, plump lips and before the angel could express any doubts, you secured your confession by capturing his lips in a soft kiss, making the angel freeze.

You drew back and looked at him in confusion, anxiety starting to bubble in your throat once again- had you made a wrong move? However, the angel seemed as if he was in a daze, his eyes travelling all over your face.

“What do you think you are doing, love?” He asked, cupping your face and tucking your hair back, not giving you a second to respond as he kissed your forehead sweetly, moving to pepper kisses all over your face, sometimes letting his lips linger as if he was relishing the feel of his lips against your skin. You fisted his shirt and raised your face right when he leaned down, your lips colliding in a passionate, slow kiss that soon started feeling heated as you moved your mouths in tandem with each other, pulling each other impossibly closer.

You broke apart for breath but it looked like the angel was not planning to let you go. He sucked at your lower lip and you welcomed him with an open mouthed kiss, making the angel lose his footing and take a few steps back, your laughter and breaths mingling. You grinned, leaping in his arms and making him back away another few steps as he struggled to maintain balance while kissing you at the same time-

And due to his own fault, forgetting there was a pool full of water behind, he let the force of your kiss physically push him back until there was no ground under his feet and he clutched at you, both of you yelping as you fell in the cool water.

You almost swallowed some but managed to find your way up, laughing helplessly at the state of you two- absolutely drenched. The angel swiped his hair back and you let your eyes roam all over his upper body, the fabric of his shirt clinging to the muscles that Seonghwa had worked hard to build. For a moment, a tiny moment, you remembered Seonghwa but any thoughts of him went out of your head when you spotted Hwa scan your body with a searing gaze that stuck on the way your clothes clung to you.

“Like what you see?” You teased. The angel licked his lips in response, swimming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing your bodies flush against each other. You breathed heavily, letting his shoulders act as a brace as you lifted your body and captured his lips in a wet kiss, tasting water and kissing him as if he was meant to quench your thirst. You made out for what seemed like hours, his hands travelling all over your body, alternating from kissing your lips to feasting on your neck, his groans and moans fuelling you, your hands and arms singed in various spots, even nicked at places.

“Oh, angel,” you whispered against his ears, sucking at his earlobe. “They might clip your wings for this.”

“I do not need to fly if I am with you,” he declared, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “How did you entrap me with that demonic heart of yours, human?”

All you could do was smile devilishly in response. “Maybe you have craved darkness all your life.”

“Perhaps,” he kissed your lips sweetly. “If this is what darkness is… I wish I will never see the light again.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, hugging him tightly.

Angel. Your angel. The light in your dark life.

He kissed the cuts and burns on your arms, preparing you to get hurt for him again. A pain that you were starting to get addicted to.

Seonghwa had never had to apologise for a thing in his life.

Every decision he made came with consequences and he might harbour regrets but he would never bow down in front of someone and apologise. The other parties involved would just have to make peace with that.

He did not believe in the idea of apologising, even when time and time again he caused you hurt or discomfort and you demanded that he show some remorse to make things better. He preferred to let the tension die down instead and let your defences lower until you would forget that he wronged you in the first place. You only had him, so where would you go if you broke things off with him?

However, as Seonghwa got a look at himself through the reflection of the mirror-engraved wall of Assemblyman Hwang’s office, he shut his eyes for a moment and saw red. He willed himself to maintain his composure and smiled at the Assemblyman.

No wonder the man wasn’t taking him seriously.

“- rest assured, we’ll do our best to keep this inside the underworld channels and not let any scandals surface, so you can keep on providing us with the goods, okay?” the man said, pouring red wine for the both of them while Seonghwa clenched and unclenched his fists. “I mean, I know we almost messed up but we were quick to clean it up-”

“If another mess-up happens,” Seonghwa started in a low voice, making the middle-aged man frown, “Not only will I retract and clean up your mess, but I will make sure to wipe all evidence. And that, of course, includes all consumers. You understand that, right?”

Seonghwa took a sip of the red wine, watching the politician fidget with his clothes, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth. “Of course!”

Seonghwa set the glass on the table. “It’s a dark world we live in. Gotta make sure it doesn’t get any darker, yeah?”

The politician, who always rambled about eradicating darkness from the world in his campaigns, grimaced at the mockery of his slogan. Seonghwa got up and left the room, hiding his face with his fur coat as much as he could.

Once inside the privacy of his car, he glared at the driver who squirmed but got the message. Seonghwa slumped back and wiped at his left cheek where the very vivid and recognisable red kiss mark was printed.

He was going to kill you for making a fool of him.

It was his fault- the driver had tried to warn him with a ‘Um, sir… you might want to freshen up before the meeting’. Thinking that the driver was just suggesting that because he was meant to meet a politician, Seonghwa told him that there was no need. He did not need to look anything else than the crazy man that he was. His appearance was crucial in making first impressions, and with this rough look, he wanted to show the politician just who he was dealing with. He had some points to get across.

However, the kiss mark on his cheek watered down that roughness wantonly. No wonder the politician had been smirking for the entire duration of the meeting.

Seonghwa sighed deeply. Again, it was his fault, ultimately. He never apologised for the argument you both had, and after regaining consciousness and finding himself under covers with you, snuggled way too close for his liking, he waited until you got up. He did not like the way your expressions darkened when you realised it was not the angel anymore.

You simply informed him that the angel and you had a talk, and he had decided to block Seonghwa from watching his consciousness. Seonghwa and you got into an argument again where he wondered if you were trying to do something behind his back- an assumption he immediately regretted making- and you told him that the only time Hwa would be blocking Seonghwa would be when you and Hwa had something ‘personal’ going on; nothing regarding Seonghwa and his state- or his business, even. Seonghwa tried to probe in hopes of getting an answer as to what ‘personal’ entailed but you didn’t give in.

And it seemed like he got his answer anyway. While the angel was consciously trying to block him at times, he saw the way you looked at Hwa very well. You used to look at him like this before, eyes wide and expectant, something like affection dripping from them. And now you had found someone else-

Except this was also Seonghwa, technically. One body, one mind, but two different souls.

He just needed to find out if you were serious about this- the angel inside his body was going to leave one day. If you were doing this just to piss Seonghwa off… it was working, but you did not need to go to such extents.

He did not want you to go to such an extent. He did not want to carry your kiss marks just anywhere- those things were meant to stay in the privacy of his house, right? He did not want to wake up with you in his arms anymore, without any memories of how you got there in the first place. He was supposed to be the one who tucked you in bed- only him. He did not want to hear the echoes of your laughter in his subconsciousness- he did not want you to laugh like that in front of just anyone. He did not want his lips to hold the whisper of your name or the taste of your skin- no one could touch you like that.

He was going to kill you. For sure. But first, he was going to block the angel out of his mind.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure how that would work, but he tried his best to focus on what was here and what was real instead of the being inside his head. Once he arrived at your lab where he was supposed to pick you up and take you home, he asked the driver to stay, opting to find you himself. The lab was a nice place to get rid of you- he wouldn’t need to clean the mess. Your own people would clean that up for you, just like they had always wiped the evidence of your sins.

At the sight of your tired figure making a chart on the wall with the progress of your ‘angelic expulsion’ discoveries, all his resolve crumbled.

You had a habit of making charts and calculating probabilities to visualise your learnings- whether it be about your scientific data, theoretical data or mundane things- would Seonghwa be able to kill the rival gang’s leader? Probability– 89 percent. Factors– temper, first and foremost, which affects his strategy and attack. Accounts for 11 percent though the figure may vary on how his day went. Factors– me. Am I in danger? If I am, the probability of winning increases exponentially because he won’t let a fly hurt me. If I am not… does it decrease his willpower? Check-

Seonghwa found himself smiling at the memory- you were making this effort- for him, right? Despite everything, you were trying to get the angel out of his body so he could leave you both alone, right?

You caught Seonghwa staring at you from the window and beckoned him to come inside. He entered with a huff and you frowned at his cold stance.

“What? Did the meeting not end well?” You asked.

“It went well, but it could have gone better were it not for-” Seonghwa pointed at his cheek and it took a moment to click.

“Oh,” you grinned. “Did I forget to wipe that? My bad-”

Seonghwa walked in front of you but you did not move. He peered down at you, watching you with a threatening gaze. It would have worked on others, but it didn’t work on you- not anymore.

“Have you made it your life’s mission to get back at me? This is playing dirty, Doctor.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘Doctor’ now, eh? Keeping it professional this time?” You narrowed your eyes. “Honestly, I forgot to wipe that-”

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t deliberately placed there,” Seonghwa countered.

“It was deliberately placed. Just not for you,” you patted his chest before turning away, wanting to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist and brought you right back where you were- even closer this time.

“This is not the first time, though,” Seonghwa smiled dangerously, fixing your glasses for you and tucking your hair back. “It’s a repeated offence, darling.”

It was. You were purposely trying to mess with Seonghwa, that was partly true. From making the angel try Seonghwa’s least favourite drink just before he was about to switch so there would be an aftertaste in Seonghwa’s mouth, to messing up with his appearance or clothes. Seonghwa’s patience was running out for all the right reasons.

“Hmm, well,” you tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m guilty.”

“I came here planning to kill you for once and all,” Seonghwa admitted, cocking his head and watching his finger trail down the curves of your face. This wasn’t the first time you had heard this phrase, but something told you that he might actually have been considering it. “But it looks like you are making some effort. Progress, even?”

“Ah, this?” You gulped, looking at the board. “Yeah, I think I’m onto something- but there’s a catch, and… I’ll have to talk with Hwa to make sure this doesn’t end bad for any of you-”

“For any of us?” Seonghwa frowned. “You’re only supposed to care about how it ends for me. That being is an angel, he’ll make it-”

“But I want him to make it out safely,” you interrupted, trying to get a point across but Seonghwa seemed too frustrated to process it. “It would be in our best interests if the angel leaves safely-”

“Your best interest,” Seonghwa pointed his finger at you, giving in and huffing. “Not mine. It was never about me, was it?”

“You’re right, not everything is about you. Just listen to me for once, you fool,” you scolded, making him sit on a stool so you could meet his eyes properly and hopefully assert some authority. “Suppose the angel somehow gets hurt or dies. That’s going to be the end of your empire- a horrible, miserable end. We’re lucky this angel got stuck inside you and all his rage dissipated because you’re too stubborn to let the angel take control. You understand?”

“I understand everything,” Seonghwa said calmly. “I just don’t understand why you care about the angel- what is he to you, y/n?”

What was Hwa to you?

The angel who looked past the sins that covered the entirety of your heart, scratched through the darkness to find a home in your heart. The angel that burned you and hurt you with his love, shed tears for you and healed you only to put you through the pain of loving him again. The angel that wanted you to release him from the clutches of the demon that Seonghwa was, yet wished to stay and give up who he was so he could be with you.

If someone would hear that out loud, they would laugh in disbelief, but you had never craved something good and pure all your life until you met Hwa. You were content in the darkness next to Seonghwa, were you not?

“Cat got your tongue?” Seonghwa asked and you shook your head, but there was nothing else left to say. He asked you to join him in the car and you followed after a few moments with your belongings, the ride home awfully silent.

That night, you did not join him in his room. You stayed in yours, darkness swallowing your room and you. Perhaps, if you stared long enough into the distance, you would become one with the dark.

However, a few hours and a soft knock later, you were joined by your doom and your salvation- only you did not know which one it was thanks to the lack of light in the room. The figure plopped down next to you on the floor with a heavy sigh, his shoulders brushing with yours and you both sat in utter silence.

When his fingers brushed with yours, you almost thought it was Hwa- he must have heard your conversation, must want answers. But when he wrapped your hand in his and squeezed it with a promise, you knew it wasn’t the angel.

It was the demon- and you were no longer sure if he was your doom or your salvation.

“This isn’t a sorry attempt at an apology, is it, Seonghwa?” You asked and you could almost hear him smile.

“I’ll be dead before you hear those words out of my mouth. You know that,” he said and you squeezed his hand back.

A few moments of silence passed, thick with confusion and tension. You caved in and asked, “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know, but the angel is asleep for once,” Seonghwa told you. “It almost feels like I’m back to who I was, except… even when the angel is asleep, I’m carrying remnants of him.”

“What does that mean?”

Seonghwa squeezed your hand in answer- this. This was unusual- sure, there was a certain extent of physical ‘affection’ between you two, if it could even be called affection. It was reserved for teasing, and in rare cases, support.

“I don’t know why I’m here, but I am, and I don’t want to leave.”

“You love me,” you teased and he laughed a bit, but when he did not deny that, your smile fell- and for once, you were glad it was so dark.

“You’re incapable of love, Seonghwa. I think something in you broke when you loved your other half only to let him go so soon.”

His brother- not in the biological sense, but a family nonetheless. While you and Seonghwa were reflections of each other, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been as similar as they were different. Hongjoong was the light, pulling Seonghwa out of his darkness while Seonghwa pulled him back in. And what a pair they made, balancing each other out in every sense yet never clashing, each rotten in their own twisted ways. It had been Hongjoong’s idea to leave the orphanage and mingle with the gangs- he did not leave with you two but found you just a week later, covered in soot and blood but smiling like a free spirit.

He had freed all the kids from the orphanage that destroyed you all- the people who clipped your wings when you hadn’t even learned to walk. He freed the kids, burned the building and all the guilty parties involved- at the mercy of luck. He got the kids to another orphanage through his connections-

And when Seonghwa asked him if you could use those kids to test your drugs on, Hongjoong had shaken his head in amusement but allowed it. It was ultimately bad luck that took his life only a few years later, right before Seonghwa’s career peaked.

He had not been the same since- and you understood. Hongjoong was your friend too- you grieved with him but he never moved on. He got their nickname tattooed on his neck so he was reminded every moment of what he lost.

“I think I’ve always been like this,” Seonghwa countered. “You just need an excuse to justify my behaviour towards you.”

Well. That was also partially true.

“But you’ve always accepted me as I am,” Seonghwa continued. “Some might think you actually love me, y/n.”

“But I do,” you admitted with a whisper. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“You love the whisper of good that you think I possess, dear,” Seonghwa corrected gently. “And once I got possessed by the angel, you found an excuse to love me without harbouring any guilt in that twisted heart of yours.”

If words could tear your heart apart- this was why the truth was so harsh. You took a shuddery breath and Seonghwa caressed your hand.

“You weren’t meant to live in the dark, y/n. I pulled you in and clung to you because you were the only one who saw me for who I am. Perhaps, even a better version of who I was, though I didn’t need that.”

“That’s arguable,” you laughed a bit. “I’ve got more blood on my hands than I can ever atone for. All for what? For science? For you?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” he teased. You both chuckled at that, knowing very well how bad it was. You let a few moments pass, clutching on to his hand and he sensed the question before you said it out loud.

“Why did you come inside the room that day, Seonghwa? Why did you try to shield me from the angel?”

Silence. Only the sound of your breaths in the room.

“To protect you, of course,” Seonghwa answered. “Because you are my weapon, and I am your shield.”

Oh, him and his words.

“Isn’t it the other way round?” You pondered out loud. “You act like my weapon sometimes too-”

“Because,” he said, almost sounding as soft as the angel. “Because I saw the angel look at you the way only I am supposed to look at you. Did he take a look into your heart? Did he find it captivating- is that why he decided to possess you? I could not let the angel taint my warrior any further, so I shielded you.”

“Except the angel liked that,” you sighed in realisation. “The angel found your courage more attractive and got pulled towards you.

“Yet the angel continues to taint your body,” Seonghwa clasped your hand in his. “I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.”

Silence. The sound of your heart beats.

“There is a pureness in your heart, Seonghwa,” you concluded. “And… there is a darkness in the angel’s heart- I’ve seen it. You balance each other just right. That is why the angel is stuck inside you, and I’m beginning to wonder if you two are beyond help now.”

Deafening silence this time.

“You will try, at least once. For me,” Seonghwa declared.

“I will try more than once for you, if it means it will work and you two will be separate entities, and-” you faltered, the whisper of the promise you made with Hwa ghosting on your lips.

If there was a guarantee that the angel would be able to stay in the human realm after leaving this body, you would perform whatever ritual, whatever sacrifice was required. But if there was none… you would not let him leave this body.

And now with Seonghwa right next to you, you wondered if the promise you made came from your heart. Hwa made you promise that and put the words between your lips, but did you mean it? Were you really going to keep that promise? Would you risk Seonghwa’s well-being for the angel?

Or were you just caught between two utterly selfish beings, holding the key to freedom for one or the other, or none?

When you got a call from Dr. Choi in the middle of the night, asking you to check the files he had sent you and come to the lab if possible, you were glad that Hwa had not taken over tonight and you were in your own room, which meant that you could sneak out without the angel’s knowledge.

And in the middle of tiptoeing through the hall did you realise-

Why were you wary of the angel now?

Sure, the angel had told you time and time again that you could not possibly make use of his essence- you could learn from its chemical composition if that pleased you, but he was adamant about you not experimenting with it. You understood why- working with demonic essence had been risky business and this time, there was the threat of the angel realm finding out about your work too.

However, one thing you had realised in the past few days was that the angel was a soldier at his very core. A soldier of god, bound to duty and true to his morals despite being in a human body and trying to live like one. There were still some boundaries the angel was unwilling to cross, and you were beginning to think if his righteousness was what was hindering you from making some groundbreaking discovery about the essence or if you were simply too trusting of him.

And then there was the fact that the angel wanted you- wanted to be with you. He spent all his conscious hours by your side, looking past your sins and loving you for the person that you were at the very core. He claimed that that person was beautiful and everything he could ever have desired for. He held you as if you were fragile, kissed you as if that was the last time he would get to do so, and loved you like no human ever could. He bowed in front of you and thanked you for seeing him as something other than the being that he was. His love was burning but it was pure.

His love was pure, but it was starting to cloud your judgement and you needed to recalibrate yourself every time you were alone.

So good timing from Dr. Choi too. You drove to the lab yourself and found him wide awake, which was odd because he liked his night sleep very much. You entered the office and asked, “I couldn’t read the notes because I decided to just come and visit. Brief me.”

“You asked me to extract and replicate any components of the angelic essence that is similar to the demonic essence, right?” Dr. Choi pulled a stool for you so you could examine the sample under the microscope. “Take a look at this.”

You gave him a sceptic look before examining the two samples in front of you. For a moment, you were confused before it clicked-

“These samples- they are existing independently, without being linked in any way to the essence as a whole, right?”

“Bingo,” Dr. Choi smiled proudly. “Almost killed myself during the extraction process but I’ve managed to get the non-volatile compounds out of this. Similar to the demonic essence, but still different enough in its properties that experimentation seems like worth giving a shot to.”

“Even if this does not have medicinal properties,” you started to read the notes, “It can still become a different type of drug.”

“A new line of drugs- that’s the least that can come out of this. As for the medical side, we can always keep researching, right?”

“Seonghwa’s gonna be so pleased to hear this news-”

But Hwa.

“The angel won’t be,” Dr. Choi said out loud for you and you pursed your lips. While the doctor was not aware of the shift in your relationship with the angel, he knew very well how adamant the angel had been in not letting you conduct experimentation with his essence. “Does the angel need to know about this?”

“I mean… we could conduct our experimentation in secret. According to him, we might be under threat if we let the essence be consumed as a drug of any sort. Something about how it becomes a marker for the angels. But if we’re just experimenting and erasing any evidence of human consumption simultaneously… that shouldn't be a problem, right?”

“And technically, even if we are found by the angels or whatever, we just… die. Poof. We’re used to living under those conditions anyway- do or die.”

You shared a grin with the doctor, but could you really give him and yourself a go-ahead for human experimentation with angelic essence?

The answer was simple- you could, and you can. This was your decision, and if it were not for the angel interfering with your work, you wouldn’t even be so cautious about making your decisions. This was not you. Were you scared of the angel’s wrath? Sure. You were scared of Seonghwa’s wrath too, it wouldn’t be any different.

But this- this was your realm, and you set the rules here. No one- not Seonghwa, and certainly not Hwa could interfere.

“Contact the orphanage and the prison. We’re getting busy in the coming days.”

People argued about what was something that made them feel alive. What sort of human experience was exciting enough to make them feel charged, have electricity buzzing through their veins and heighten their senses?

Some called it ‘the thrill’. They searched for it in the dark pits of this world, succumbing to their desires and inevitably losing themselves, becoming as hollow as shells. While searching for a way to feel alive, they would end up losing all purpose.

Others searched for it in human experiences- love, happiness and other emotions and feelings. They would go out seeking ‘adventure’, connecting with nature and finding meaning in the simplest things- in the creation, in everything around them, in life itself.

You, however, might be the odd one out. You stood at the threshold, tipping between ‘the thrill’ and ‘human experiences’ constantly and finding home at that tipping point. Some might argue that you were delusional and your means of feeling alive was something that deserved a special kind of judgement to have you sent into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Was hell not simply a concept that humans created to delude themselves? Some found ‘the thrill’ in the hell they created for themselves, while the others used hell as an excuse to shape themselves into what they imagined a human should be.

Your means of feeling alive- you felt the most alive when you were working in your element, in your field. When you were playing with chemicals and experimenting on live subjects - or inspecting the dead. When you were performing practically, creating products and testing them, unhindered by any ethical or legal boundaries. In this lab, you were the creator, the judge and the creation. You were the action and the consequence. Here, you found both the thrill and the human experience. Here, you were truly alive.

“Another one passes,” you watched the vitals of one of your test subjects drop significantly- nothing that could be done about it. You had fed the young adult the angelic essence and though the timespan of the reaction towards it had lengthened a bit, he went into shock soon after. You tried saving the young adult but to no avail. “Another one bites the dust.”

“The things you say sometimes,” Dr. Choi shook his head in amusement, passing you a scalpel and you carefully made a vertical incision along the subject’s upper body, grimacing at the sight of the discoloured blood. “Shit, that’s just like what happened with the demonic essence.”

“Except we’re using the same quantity- that means the angelic essence might be stronger than the demonic one. We need to dilute it further,” you decided and he agreed, continuing with the inspection of the internal organs which appeared almost burnt.

You had been spending more time in the lab in the past few days especially at night to start testing how practical an angelic drug would be. Seonghwa was aware of your recent occupation and was also a little proud of how driven you were this time. He made sure the angel would not look into his memory too much and you both decided to keep the conversation about this topic to a minimum. Seonghwa was also taking over at night time more so he could get proper sleep, he claimed, although you wondered if it was so you could have more time working in the lab.

While the angel wondered if it was because Seonghwa wanted him to stay away from you.

Hwa had no idea of the recent developments in the lab and was only aware that you had contacted the summoner from the ritual that chained him to Seonghwa and were preparing to try another ritual, currently researching if it would be safe for the both of them. He thought that was what you were busy with during the day and was wondering if that was what occupied your thoughts when you were with him.

And if the angel was a little honest with himself… he was a little scared of what you felt for Seonghwa.

He understood that Seonghwa was the only person in your life from the beginning, and your bond with him was something irreplaceable. He also tried to be understanding when Seonghwa started blocking his memories and consciousness actively- if the angel could do that to him, so could he. The angel had no right to complain anymore. However… what did the two of you do when the angel was out of the picture?

Nothing, was the answer. You would work in your respective spaces, sometimes chat about something or anything. On rare occasions when one of you was feeling sentimental, you would find the other and share comfortable silence or tease each other. That was it.

However, the angel may be oblivious to some things but he was no fool, nor was he blind. Seonghwa did feel something for you that went beyond what the word ‘love’ encompassed, and if the angel was really honest with himself, that was what he was scared of.

So at the first opportunity when Seonghwa’s defences lowered just as he was about to fall asleep, the angel violated their recent agreement and took over forcefully.

Hwa looked around, expecting to find you in the room- weren’t you supposed to keep watch on both of them? Or had you gone to your room to rest?

The angel found himself shrugging on a robe over the black tank top that he was wearing before exiting Seonghwa’s room and going towards yours. He knocked softly and opened the door, worried about waking you up if you were asleep, but he found the room empty and your usual belongings gone. So you were not home.

And that meant you had to be at the lab. There was no place else you could be- even your car was not in the garage.

So the angel found himself outside the lab, sensing something off about the air even before he entered. He found the lab room where you usually worked with Dr. Choi empty, your belongings dispersed around the room. So where were you?

A warning song- similar to the one he used to sing to the humans who needed a little reminder of how small and insignificant they really were in this world- started sounding in his head. The angel wasn’t sure if he was singing it or if it was being sung for him.

He got his answer when he found you in the dark basement, the stench of blood and something rotten filling his nostrils. He froze at the sight of you- you were beautiful, lit by the dim white overhead light, but so, so tainted with blood and sin. The dead bodies all around you… the humans that were alive but silently begging to be killed. Your eyes, sparkling as you looked around, blood splattered across your scrubs. The angel looked around and his heart sank as realisation hit him-

You were experimenting with the angelic essence.

The angel saw red before his eyes before he knocked on the door. You looked up and waved at the man, your smile falling when you realised it was the angel in front of you.

“Uh… I’ll be back,” you told Dr. Choi who told you to take your time. You were nearly done anyway and you could go home soon.

You opened the door for the angel, his gaze unforgiving and suddenly, you were gripped with the same fear that you had felt when you first saw him.

“I forbade you to not experiment with the essence, but here you are.”

“Why are you here?” You asked and the angel raised a brow.

“Funny that this is the first thing you ask,” he commented, glancing inside the room through the slightly ajar door. “Y/n… I trusted you to keep your word.”

“Look,” you sighed, taking off your mask and cap. “I’m not doing this for the medicinal drug- you told me that it would be no use and I took your word for it.”

“Then what is this for?”

“For…” you contemplated making an excuse or lying but it was too late. “For the drugs, Hwa. I’m just trying to see if a compound extracted from the essence can be consumed like the ones from the demonic essence are-”

“I told you not to experiment!” The angel raised his voice and you shut your eyes, exhaling. “Why do you need to make a drug out of angelic essence? Do you have any idea of the consequences if this gets out-”

“I do,” you started moving towards another room and once in some privacy, you glared at him, his features seeming sharper with the faint lights casting shadows on his angry face.

“It’s not like I’m manufacturing the drug, Hwa. We’re far from it- I’m only studying.”

“That is how you study?” The angel pointed towards the direction of the room and scoffed. “Killing humans as if their lives mean nothing?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms. “You know who I am. I have blood on my hands- more blood than even Seonghwa has on his. You call him a rotten excuse of a human for who he is, right? Then I’m worse. I’m a demon, and you knew it, yet you chose to love me and hold my hands as if they were a holy relic.”

The angel’s eyes flashed with hurt- of course he knew.

“You are heartless,” he breathed out as if saying those words was hurting him. “I knew that. You are right, I knew who you were. I just thought…”

“That I would change?” You shook your head. “You thought that I would become a better person? Well, this is who I am, angel. This is what my life is. You asked me not to experiment with the essence, but you know that my heart’s deepest desire is to create more advanced drugs. You can’t stop me from doing anything to get there.”

“That is what my word means to you,” his expressions shifted from hurt to anger. “That is what my love means to you. You heartless devil. You and Seonghwa really were made for each other.”

“I may be heartless but you’re naive, and don’t think for a moment that you have any control over me, angel,” you spat the words, taking a few steps towards him for emphasis. “And you- you’re a liar. You told me that we could not get anywhere with the essence. You said you could not lie.”

The angel’s eyes almost glowed with the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling, and your pointed finger in his face wasn’t making things better. He curled your finger back into your fist and held it in his hand, his touch physically burning you and you snatched your hand away with a yelp.

“Angels cannot lie, but they can hide the truth.”

A wave of anger washed over you and you looked at him in disbelief. “What other truths are you hiding from me? You know how to get out of this body, don’t you? Are you staying back on purpose? Are you not letting go of this body on purpose, Hwa?”

“You asked me to stay,” he smiled and you thought there was something sinister about his smile, especially as he started tucking your hair back and lightly caressing your face. “You think I am a liar, my love?”

You shook your head, nothing making sense anymore. “Just tell me if you know how to get out of this body without hurting Seonghwa.”

“I am neither lying nor hiding the truth about this. I do not know how to get out of this body.”

“Is that the complete truth?” You dared to ask and the angel didn’t answer, holding your hurt hand and saying his prayers before starting to kiss it wherever it was burned. Tears of frustration started stinging your eyes and you looked away from his burning gaze.

“Do you hate me?” The angel asked with a cautious voice and you did not respond.

It shifted something in the angel, perhaps indefinitely.

“Do not ever look away when I look at you,” he commanded, his voice settling in your bones and you felt as if you were almost compelled to meet his eyes. His face was void of expressions, gaze dark and he cupped your face, making you shut your eyes in pain when his touch started singing your skin but the angel did not care- he was far too gone in that moment. He moved closer, your bodies flush against each other and he trailed his lips along your forehead, peppering kisses along the way and then he kissed your wet lids, drawing back.

“Look at me,” he commanded again and you opened your eyes. You were frozen in place- not because you were scared, but because you simply could not believe that the angel was hurting you like this, his hands moving to your neck, wrists and any bare skin he could find, imprinting his touch in the form of light burns. He moved to kiss your cheek, licking the tears away and your breath quickened-

His love was pure, but this? This wasn’t who the angel was.

Or were you just now getting to see the true face of the angel?

As he continued to kiss your neck and leave more singes on your skin, your body responded almost automatically and you curled into his figure, shuddering. You recalled reading something about angels and fallen angels in a book– it said something about how the angels were just god’s warriors, hollow at their core, one of their wings marred with blood for eternity. You asked Hwa what really was the difference between an angel and a fallen angel at their very core, and he did not have an answer-

Was it because he was also someone like you, struggling to stand on the threshold between being an angel or becoming a fallen angel?

What sort of an angel would hurt their human like this?

And how did this angel go from crying because his touch burned you to purposely burning you? Maybe this was your fault too- you let his love burn and consume you. You were no better.

“I am violating the core of who I am in loving you,” the angel whispered in your ear, his hair tickling your cheekbone. “Do not take advantage of that… little bird.”

“Let me go,” you cupped his face, looking straight into his eyes, the name he called you finally giving you some clarity. “Let Seonghwa take over- please.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t ask me to go now-”

“You’re hurting me,” you said and it was as if he could finally see the redness all over your skin. “Go, angel. Give me Seonghwa back.”

The angel’s eyes flickered with hurt, his eyes travelling all over the places that he burned you and it was as if he finally broke from his trance- he muttered a prayer and started peppering light kisses all over your face wherever his touch had burned you, his heart aching as he saw the fresh stream of tears roll down your face. Before he could do something about your neck or your hands, you drew away.

“Please, that’s enough for now,” you hardened your gaze. “We will talk later, when you are in your right mind. Let Seonghwa take over.”

“Oh, heavens above,” he sighed, ashamed of his actions and silently cursing himself. “I hurt you too much-”

“It’s-” you paused before you could finish saying the sentence.

It was not okay. You wouldn’t be telling him that it was okay to hurt you ever again.

Before you could say anything else, the angel groaned uncharacteristically and you watched as the shift happened, visible in the demeanour change, except-

Seonghwa took one look at you and almost lost his footing, struggling to stand as he clutched at the table. You reacted immediately, making him sit on a stool and asking him if he was alright, but he only held your hands with his own shaky ones and hid his face between them.

“Seonghwa?” Your voice came out in a small whisper- you had never seen him so weak. He wasn’t crying but he very well might have been with the way his body was trembling and he was breathing unsteadily.

“Talk to me, Seonghwa,” you urged, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” he sighed heavily, looking up at you with tired eyes, the rage obvious behind them. “I fought for consciousness the moment I heard you cry. Who hurt you?”

You.

“It’s the angel, isn’t it?” He examined your hands, trembling with the intensity of emotions that he was feeling- perhaps, a leftover product from the angel too. “He hurt you.”

“Seonghwa,” you sat down in front of him, on your knees. “I’m okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“It’s not,” he shook his head adamantly. “You have no idea how much I’m struggling to not let the angel swallow me whole- I’m scared to think of what would have happened if the angel lost all control just now.”

You silently shook at the thought and he caressed your hands before continuing.

“Sometimes, it feels like if he takes over my consciousness, I will get lost in the dark pits of my own subconscious forever. But now… I realise why I’m sometimes hesitant to regain consciousness too. Because-”

He looked at your marred hands, caressing the burn marks on them lightly. “Do you know what I’m afraid of, y/n?”

You shook your head. “You’re afraid of nothing, as far as I know.”

Seonghwa smiled tiredly. “You’re right. I am afraid of nothing- I was afraid of nothing. But now… I’m afraid of seeing these burn marks on your skin whenever I wake up. How could you let him hurt you like this? You were supposed to be my warrior.”

“And you were supposed to be my shield,” you smiled sadly. “When you’re not there… I get burned.”

Seonghwa looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “This is what I’m afraid of. Hurting you and watching you love the very thing that hurts you. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life but now… I’m afraid of losing you like this, y/n.”

Seonghwa. The most notorious mafia lord with no such thing as a ‘heart’ was afraid of losing you. Afraid of hurting you and seeing you hurt. Was this not what pure love was supposed to be, as opposed to your angel Hwa’s, who had better things to worry about?

You once asked the angel what he was scared of- other than the obvious. He talked about punishment. He was afraid of doing the very deeds that he would be sent to give punishment for. He was afraid of divine intervention- it was something that was scary to witness even as the audience. He was afraid of the future, of this world and its corrupt nature.

And the angel was afraid of loving you only to lose you.

Was Seonghwa’s love for you not purer than the angel’s love, then? Seonghwa would go to hell and back for you. Seonghwa bowed down only in front of you- you, who were a part of him, a part of his soul, he would sometimes call you.

The angel would only bow in front of god.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised though the words were of no comfort to both of you. Overcome by his emotions and some hard truths about what his future looked like, he brought your hands closer with his own shaky ones and pressed a promising kiss on both your hands. When you shifted to hold his hands instead and tried to make him look at you, he shut his eyes.

He could not look at you. Not now.

“Seonghwa,” you called, lifting yourself up a little so you could be at eye level. “Won’t you look at me?”

He only lowered his head further and you embraced him, sighing in relief when he shifted so he could hug you back properly. You let him come to terms with whatever he was feeling- he wasn’t going to talk about it but at least you could help him through it. You caressed his head without a fear of getting hurt for once, and he mustered up the courage to kiss you on the cheek.

You froze momentarily- Seonghwa rarely ever kissed you anywhere except the top of your head (that was his form of silently apologising). He nudged your cheek with the tip of his nose, his warm breath caressing your skin and you moved back slightly, making the mistake of looking him in the eyes-

You had asked for it, though. And now that he was looking at you, so close, you forgot how to breathe.

His hand went around the back of your neck, craning it so that he could make space for himself. He joined your foreheads, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t let the angel ever hurt you again. That’s a promise, okay?” He whispered and you nodded, your noses brushing against each other. He shut his eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he deliberately nudged the tip of his nose with yours, your lips almost brushing in the process but the ghost of his lips remained on yours.

You whispered his name- a call, a plea, and he almost gave in, reminded of the memories of kissing you that he had seen flashes of from the angel’s memory- oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips himself. He felt a sharp pain in the head slice at him, a reprimand from the angel, a warning. Seonghwa brushed his lips against yours once again just to piss the angel off before drawing back with immense effort, kissing your forehead instead.

Your figure sagged in disappointment, tired from the yearning. You rested your head in his lap and gave yourself a few moments to recollect your thoughts.

You would not question Seonghwa and his actions anymore. You knew exactly what was happening. You knew what you had to do now.

There is always a moment in your life when it feels like you’ve had an awakening- as if all this time, you had been wearing the wrong pair of prescription glasses, or not wearing anything to help your blurred vision. So when you finally fix the problem, or realise what the root of all your troubles is, you start to see the world with a sudden clarity. Everything seems sharper, you can see the fine lines that you would otherwise have missed, and it’s like you have a new perspective to the world, even.

At least, that’s how you feel as you perch your reading glasses up your nose bridge, craning your neck to the right and flipping through the pages of a dark arts history book, recalling that you had read something in it which seemed to be connected to the current theory you were working on-

The theory being that angels were, in fact, worse liars than demons. Demons had a habit of being overtly honest- the only problem was that they were tricksters and spun their words such that it would be hard to unravel the truth from. Angels, however, were outright liars in the sense that they would conceal the truth and mislead you by not telling you the complete truth.

At least, that’s who Hwa was.

You spent the first couple of days trying not to have a mental breakdown and asking both Hwa and Seonghwa to leave you alone while you figured out your feelings for them but more importantly- just how much the angel had misled you? Was there anything he said about the angelic essence and its experimentation that was the complete truth? So far, there had been no warning siren ringing to inform you of some divine punishment. The heavens had not fallen over your head. You were just fine, and you were pretty sure that your experimenting was enough of a marker for the other angels. Why was no divine being interfering then?

And just what was the truth about the angel not knowing how to leave this body? Was he not leaving on purpose, a selfish angel who simply wanted to experience what it was like to not be a warrior of god? Was he staying because of you? Did he really love you or was that just an excuse to stay back in this world and delay going back to his own?

Because he did love you- oh, how he loved you. His love threatened to consume you whole with the way he held you like you were fragile and would break under his touch, contrasting with the way his touch would sometimes burn you when he was overwhelmed. His kisses were overflowing with emotions, a pure exhibit of his desire while holding a dark, almost sinister undertone to them when he would grip you tightly as if forgetting you were human. His whispers contained promises in a foreign language that you did not need to interpret- his vows were clear in his eyes and his possessive hold.

His love also threatened to break you in the way that a trapped bird was scared of stepping outside its cage for the first time. It was Hwa who made you experience what being normal would have felt like, were you not bound to Seonghwa and his drug business. You experienced so many of your firsts with Hwa and it was him who showed you what a normal life could have been like- you did so much with him that you could have never done with Seonghwa. Seonghwa had only given you limited freedom and while you did not hate that, you always wished to spread your wings and fly.

Maybe you flew too close to the sun. Perhaps, that’s why you were burning both from outside and from within. Maybe you were meant to love the moon but the moon liked to hide behind the clouds so you chose the next best thing. You had to fill the void in your heart somehow, and who better to fill it than a literal divine being that wore the skin of the man you had loved your whole life?

You were the only selfish one here, but selfishness had always been your greatest weapon and you would be sure to make use of it when the time would come. For now, you were coming to terms with how Hwa and Seonghwa were also selfish for their own reasons- Hwa, because he did not want to face the consequences of his actions and Seonghwa because he simply wanted to be free and whole again. He would probably kill you once he was- it didn’t feel like a bluff anymore.

However, there was also another hard truth about all of this, and that was that Hwa would give you up in a second for ‘the greater good’ or whatever moral code he needed to satisfy in order to please God and his fellow angels and get back to his realm if caught. You wanted to tell him that as an angel, perhaps he had sinned too much and if he ever went back, they would probably clip his wings and turn him into a fallen angel. You wanted to claw at him and make him stay with you forever simply because you could.

And the only reason you weren’t making him stay was because Seonghwa was the one who would burn down all of this world- the heavens above and hell below- for you. It might be out of love or out of a desire to prove that you were ultimately his, a dangerous obsession, but you were his priority. And you couldn’t help but wonder what things would have been like if he had kissed you that night in the lab and finally faced his feelings for you- though a part of you wondered if his feelings for you were partly because of the angel rubbing off on him.

So it was no wonder that you were losing your mind trying to put the feelings aside and work on finding a solution to this cursed turn of events. Now that you had an objective perspective (still arguable), you were realising that the divine punishment the angel was so afraid of might only be reserved for the angel himself. Perhaps, the human would be spared from it until it was their time to die and face judgement by their creator. It made sense because there were absolutely no instances of an angel summoning ever recorded.

Demons liked to be summoned, which was why there were countless records of it. Angels were summoned by force, though. You surely were not the first person in this world who had summoned an angel but you might make a difference if you recorded this summoning. That made you wonder- was it the recording part that was the problem or were the humans involved really wiped out if they interacted with angels?

If the latter was the case, you would have faced judgement a while ago- when you summoned the angel. Surely, other angels must have heard the call too. They would have intervened when their comrade got stuck inside a human or fell in love with one. Maybe the angels only interfered to make sure no traces were left of an angel summoning- that way, Hwa’s admission of the angelic essence leaving a trace and serving as a marker would be verified.

Whatever it was, the matter was in your hands now. So far, you had a few ideas- that you could use the angelic essence to lure the angels and face judgement- whatever it was, however it would be delivered. Chances were that only Hwa would have to face the consequences and while it broke your heart, you were sure the angels would at least wipe your memories to ensure another incident like this does not happen again. If your memories were wiped, you would not remember Hwa. That was probably the most risky route you could pick considering the angels could just kill you and Seonghwa and move on. You did not want to die just yet- at least not for Hwa.

Another idea was to try and attempt a reverse summoning ritual, which was a very theoretical concept with no specific details and no attempts recorded. For that, you needed an anchor in the realm that the being concerned was from, and you had no such anchor. Again, you could not risk involving another angel.

If you were the only one who could put an end to this, your resources were very limited. All you had was your drugs and your lab and-

Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock on the door and the door opened to reveal Seonghwa- as soon as you met the man’s curious eyes, you knew it was Hwa instead.

“You’ve been holed up in here for hours now,” his concerned voice said. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”

“Ahh, but I think I was almost there,” you straightened your back and stretched your arms, producing cracks. “Or not. Nothing makes sense.”

“That’s okay,” Hwa smiled. “Maybe some fresh air and a meal will help. When you get too focused on something, it’s good to reel back and change your environment.”

“You’re right, actually,” you got up, shutting your devices but letting the books and notes stay as they were. “I’ll join you after I freshen up.”

“Great- wear a coat. We’ll go eat something outside.”

“Someone is in a good mood today,” you eyed the angel with suspicion but he only raised his hands in the air, pressing his lips in a tight line.

“You know I’m still making it up to you. After what I did- I still feel ashamed.”

You frowned at that- you knew the angel was making an effort to be better. He had apologised until you got sick of it and warned him not to. He resorted to giving you space when you wanted but also trying to make you feel better- asking you before he touched you in any way, making sure you ate your meals and weren’t pushing yourself too hard. He could finally understand why you wanted him and Seonghwa to be two separate entities and for once, he was cooperating.

Another change you had noticed was that Hwa was starting to sound a lot like Seonghwa- in his speech, and often in his mannerism. It was unnerving but you were holding yourself back from complaining, focusing all your energy on finding the answer to this.

But for now, you supposed you could take a breather. You slipped on a black overcoat over your sweats and joined Hwa in the garage, deciding to get some ramen from the convenience store. You fell in step with him, walking down the dark streets of your posh society, lit by the full moon and the streetlights, and talking about what you had learned so far- specifically about demons. He was always willing to verify your facts on that subject.

On the way back, when he offered you his hand, you smiled and took it and he proceeded to tuck your hands in his pocket, making you shake your head.

“Have you been watching dramas, Hwa?”

“I was bored,” he went as far as to pout. “Those dramas are interesting. I’m learning a lot.”

“No wonder. You’ve been speaking casually,” you pointed out and he frowned.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, you sound like Seonghwa when he’s in a good mood,” you joked and he scoffed.

“I shall go back to the formal tone then. Perhaps you like that more?”

“I don’t mind either way,” you grinned. “Your formal tone makes you sound a little pompous, if I’m honest.”

“Noted,” he nodded in all seriousness and you squeezed his hand as you chuckled. He glanced at you with curiosity to voice a question that had been on the tip of his tongue all along, “Did you find something worthwhile today?”

You glanced back at him, gauging his expressions. “Not really. It’s too risky if we get a third party involved, whether it's another angel or humans.”

You didn’t miss how his shoulders slightly relaxed as if he had been tense all this time. He looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “If you want me to help, all you have to do is ask.”

“I know,” you swallowed the bitterness his words left in your mouth and covered it with a grateful smile- the trust he had broken in admitting that he had, in fact, lied to you had still not mended. You weren’t going to show a hint of doubt because you were scared of what Hwa would do once he learned that you were willing to let him go- even if that meant letting him go forever.

So for good measure, you stood on your tiptoes to peck his cheek, trying not to break into a grin when he let out a flustered sound. He quickly recovered from it and took it as his cue to wrap his arms around your waist and bring you in for a kiss, sweet and sure.

That was the easiest way to assure the angel that you weren’t planning something devious. There was an itch in your brain and you wanted to talk to Seonghwa before you would ever dare to attempt it. However, before that, you had to make sure the angel felt loved and safe with you- only then would he allow you to have some privacy with Seonghwa.

So you were glad the angel was still holding some guilt in his heart that was preventing him from having a heated session with you. You would rub it in his face by appearing scared or hesitant, sometimes succumbing to your own desires but keeping it restrained nonetheless- just like tonight. You had observed how the angel was especially demanding whenever you were researching on how to get Seonghwa back to normal.

Even now, as soon as you were back in your room, he was bringing your body flush to his to kiss you deeply. You had to admit that Hwa still made your knees weak and made you give in instantly, especially the way he was taking special care to not let you burn anymore. It still happened sometimes, but not like that night in the lab when he had lost control.

And it was ironically the angel’s glowing eyes that led you to your answer, a wave of understanding washing over you as the dots started to connect in your head. You zoned out as the angel finished healing your burns, his eyes going back to normal as he caught your gaze and raised his brow in question to your surprised expressions.

“Everything good?” He asked, caressing your cheek.

“Perfect,” you smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a smirk. “Everything is perfect.”

The angel patted your cheek, checking the time. “I should let Seonghwa take over soon. If you need me, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Of course,” you assured him. “I’m just gonna wrap this up and get some sleep. I think the lack of sleep is not helping me find answers.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Hwa laughed and you played along until he left the room. Finally realising what Archimedes must have felt when he had his own eureka moment, you rushed towards your notes- not the research material, not the history and dark arts books but your notes from the lab placed safely in a locker.

It could work. Dr. Choi had already unintentionally worked out the logistics of it and was writing a paper on it while he worked to make his research stronger. He was thinking of possible titles and had been rambling about how he wanted to include the phrase ‘angels vs demons’ in it. You were surprised it didn’t click earlier.

You needed to tell Seonghwa- if he was willing to try it, you would reach out to Dr. Choi and work with him.

You collected yourself and went to Seonghwa’s room, standing outside with your heart pounding uncharacteristically, about to knock when he opened the door, sucking in a breath when he found you right in front of him.

“I was going to come to your room,” he scanned your face, frowning at the sombreness in your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s you, right? Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously and Seonghwa nodded thrice- a code to let you know that the angel was nowhere near. He let you inside and you shut the door, facing him.

“I think I’ve found the answer,” you told him in a whisper. “But it’s risky, and I’m scared to try it.”

Seonghwa rubbed his face, tiredness evident in the way his shoulders seemed to be slouching. His hand settled on his neck over the tattoo that was visible from the black pyjamas. “Every method is risky. What do you feel about this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It could work. It’s scientific this time, I’ll tell you,” you shared a cryptic look and he understood. “No third party involved.”

“Has the time finally come?” Seonghwa joked with a faint smile on his lips. “You always said you would love to make me a lab rat one day.”

Your lips quirked in amusement and you looked sideways. “Didn’t imagine it would be this serious. I imagined it to be a prank or something. Old me would be ecstatic to learn that I get to tie you to my stretcher.”

“How kinky,” he scoffed and you shot him a glare- this was serious for you and you knew he was trying to keep the mood light for you.

A moment of silence later, he asked, “What do I need to do?”

You leaned against the door, your hands tucked between your back and the door. Oh, how you wished you could hold him and tell him exactly what he needed to do. How you wished you could turn back time so you were back at the office insisting Seonghwa let you try angel summoning, only this time he tells you off. It was funny how meeting Hwa, the angel, was both something you never wanted to forget and something you wished you had never experienced.

It made your yearning for Seonghwa so much stronger. Perhaps, Seonghwa could feel it in the air- the words you refused to say, the actions you refused to make.

“Say something, y/n,” he furrowed his brows much like the angel yet so different, demanding. True to Seonghwa’s nature. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Does it bother you when I look at you like that?” You asked.

There was a feeling in your gut, strange but so very familiar. Impending doom. A sign that you might never get a moment like this again. You always trust your gut, but actually listening to it was a different subject. No wonder you were here right now.

“Don’t avoid my question,” Seonghwa folded his arms but you shook your head, waiting for an answer anyway. Seonghwa took a deep breath, the small distance between your figures not helping with the lack of clarity in his head.

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” you repeated a phrase you had often used on him, shooting a teasing smile in his direction before letting your eyes wander around the room- anywhere away from his eyes.

“Does it bother me when you look at me like that?” Seonghwa repeated your question, grabbing your attention. “Of course it does. You look at the angel like that-”

“I’ve only ever looked at you like that, Seonghwa,” you sighed heavily. “You were just too blind to notice until you watched me from someone else’s eyes.”

Seonghwa’s heart did break at your admission.

Having to cohabitate with another being- an angel, specifically, had made him realise quite a few things. In the beginning, it was along the lines of how he never wanted to be a ‘good’ person if the angel was the example of that. The angel was dark at its core, though it wasn’t the type of dark people used to describe humans. It was different- otherworldly and all-consuming. The angel was fighting his own demons, and Seonghwa was fine embracing his demons instead.

However, as time passed, his heart softened despite himself. It would be an excuse to say that the angel had rubbed off on him- his perspective had simply shifted because he saw you and the world from an almost omniscient point of view. While his values had not changed, he had learned the value of the people who cared for him- especially you, who always stuck with him even when he did his worst. He didn’t care if it was simply an obsession anymore- he had seen what obsession looked like through Hwa’s eyes.

Your feelings for him, and his for yours… it was something the angel could never have and Seonghwa was fucking glad about it. He may have let the angel stop him from confessing his love multiple times but if this was the last time he was going to hold you close… he would risk angering the angel.

“Answer my question,” Seonghwa asked, his voice uncharacteristically wavering. You smiled sadly.

“All you need to do, Seonghwa, is promise that you will try to fight and that you will win. That you will stay- for yourself, for the empire you have built… for the sacrifices you made and the people you lost on the way,” you paused, your gaze falling on his tattoo. “And for me. Because I’m your weapon and you are my shield, and I cannot navigate this world without your protection.”

“I thought you hated how protective I was,” Seonghwa’s lips started curling into a smile, his eyes twinkling with energy as he stepped closer. “I made you a warrior, y/n. If anything happens to me, I trust you to continue my legacy-”

“You made me a warrior, Seonghwa, but I’m tired of this battle,” you declared, an angry streak in your voice. “Nothing will happen to you. I- I will make sure of that. You just have to stay strong and fight.”

“Even if I’m afraid of the unknown?” Seonghwa inquired, placing his hands on your shoulders and caressing the bare skin of your neck.

“The Seonghwa I love isn’t afraid of the unknown,” you reminded him and he locked eyes with you. “He’s afraid of… what was it? Hurting me? Watching me love what hurts me-”

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa warned, shaking his head but you laughed out loud, curling your hands around his wrists and holding his hands like he had held yours at the lab.

“Seeing burn marks on my hands?” You teased. “How sweet. Afraid of losing me- how romantic, Park Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa glared at you, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “Kind of regret saying that. If I had known you would hold that over me-”

“I’m holding that over you,” you gently interjected, “so you know that you won’t have to be afraid of anything when you come back.”

Seonghwa looked down at your linked hands, taking a few deep breaths and nodding slowly not only because you were right but also because he had learnt another lesson- that it was okay to love someone. Loving someone didn’t always result in losing them. After his friend Hongjoong’s death, he had grown so cold towards you, pushing you and his feelings for you away, tucking them in the deepest corner of his heart. He was lucky you never gave up on him and made him realise that loving someone wasn’t a weakness but a strength.

A reason for him to fight back against the angel. A real reason, not the materialistic ones- he could build an empire again if he had to, but he could not risk losing you.

“You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Seonghwa looked at you, watching your lips curl into a smirk. “You devil.”

“Yeah, well,” you took one step closer, looking up at him, daring him to say more. “You’re still here, so.”

Seonghwa stared at you challengingly, a smirk growing on his own lips as he crowded your personal space until your back was against the door. You didn’t shy away, the tension in the air so thick you could feel it caressing your skin along with Seonghwa’s fingers that danced against your collarbone, travelling up the slope of your neck to swipe at your parted lips, his gaze stuck right there.

“Don’t you ever get enough?” He finally asked what had been bothering him the most. How could you use him to satisfy yourself? Sure, maybe you liked the angel, but he would bet his life that it wasn’t the only reason.

“It isn’t you,” you simply answered. “It’s so different. I thought it’d be the same, but by then, it was too late, and now-”

Seonghwa put a finger on your lips to shush you- even though the angel was still dormant, he already knew what you were going to say.

And when you puckered your lips against his finger to kiss it, he wished the angel would die and never come back. He leaned in hurriedly, stopping right as your noses brushed, eliciting a gasp from your mouth.

“When are you doing it?” He asked, referring to your plan.

“Tonight,” you whispered in response, joining your foreheads and nudging his nose affectionately. “I can’t risk him finding out. Keep him at bay tonight, please.”

“If I don’t lose my mind,” Seonghwa whispered, brushing his lips against yours and tightening his grip around your waist. Craning your neck, he brought you in for the long overdue kiss, soft but strong, making your legs go weak and your arms go around his shoulders for support. He drew back to drink your expressions before diving right back in, this time unhurried but demanding, groaning with pleasure in between. When his tongue swiped your lips, you gladly opened your mouth for him, losing yourself in the overwhelming feelings of the love of your life finally caving in to you.

Not once did the angel cross your mind- not when Seonghwa kissed you softly, not when he held you like you would break, and certainly not when he let his desire fuel him as things heated up. You were soon shifted to the bed, Seonghwa promising you that he would make the most of tonight, apologising (for once) for not doing this earlier, holding on to your word when you assured him that you would somehow make this work and set him free.

You let his touch burn you in a way the angel’s had never- searing passion as opposed to a warning. You let your hands run through his hair without a worry, and let his hair tickle your bare skin as he shed the clothes off you. You let him obsess over you and lose control without the fear of getting hurt- yes, Seonghwa could hurt you in ways no one could but he would never hurt you like the angel had. Seonghwa let his desperation and emotions get the better of him tonight, feeling a sense of relief when he was finally one with you.

And only when you spotted the rays of the sun peak through the curtains, having spent all night in his arms, did you move away from his half asleep body to grab something. He peeked up and you smiled, snuggling into his body once again and sharing one last kiss, whispering confessions to each other. You hugged him after, letting your breathing synchronise with his and memorising the feeling.

And then you injected the tranquilliser into his neck, whispering sweet nothings and peppering kisses on his skin until he lost consciousness.

You had been with Seonghwa in the restricted section in the basement of your lab a few times.

Most of the time, he turned up there because he could not reach you- you had a habit of forgetting that time was an actual flowing thing and it did not stop still when you were in a certain headspace- which was experimenting with live subjects. He would watch you from the window, shaking his head at the monster he had created while his heart would simultaneously swell with pride. He would wait until you took a breather and knock on the window to get your attention.

A few times, you brought him to that section yourself, updating him on your progress. One thing you liked about Seonghwa was that he may not be the brains behind your drug production but he was fully involved in it, making note of whatever you needed and making sure you were safe here. He liked to be aware of whatever was going on as well.

However, never did you imagine that he would be your next test subject, tied to the stretcher and looking paler in the harsh white lights that lit up the room. He lay unconscious while you monitored his vitals and made sure the demonic essence being administered to him was not overpowering or harmful in any way other than expelling the angel.

You had a theory that the demonic essence could cancel every ‘impurity’ in the body to dominate as the only ‘impure’ or foreign object in the host. While working on this theory with Dr. Choi a few months ago, before you had ever summoned the angel, you had conducted an autopsy on your test subjects who had died because of the demonic drug. You noted that some of them who had underlying conditions and defects prior to overdose no longer had any defects in their body after death. It was as if the demonic drug had ‘healed’ them first before taking the spot for the sole cause of their death. A true parasitic drug, fighting for dominance to take over its host.

And if it were a demon against an angel… who would win?

You were hoping that the angel would be expelled from Seonghwa’s body, which would be the best outcome. You would quickly have to inject the angelic essence in Seonghwa’s body at that point to cancel the demonic essence- Dr. Choi and you had worked on it when you put Seonghwa in a comatose state, testing what amount of angelic essence was required to cancel out the demonic one.

In the worst case scenario though, one of them- or both- would die. According to Seonghwa, the angel was already eating away at his soul and it was a struggle for him to continue cohabitating in one body. The angel was powerful and stubborn. It wouldn’t give up so easily, so you would just have to pray that your plan would work and end well for all of you. This was your last and only resort.

Seonghwa’s body had started shaking a while ago, presumably when the battle between the angel and the demon began. You were constantly wiping sweat from his body and adjusting the drip, sometimes giving in and squeezing his hand as if to assure both Seonghwa and Hwa that you were here and that you were sorry for doing this to them. As more time passed, his body started to tremble fiercely and you tightened the clasps on his wrists and arms, not sure if they would be able to withhold.

With the damned book that brought the angel to your world resting against Seonghwa’s chest and the holy sword in one hand- tip soaked in wine but not ablaze- you started reading the section of the scripture that contained the angel’s name, Seonghwa’s eyes fluttering open when you repeated it for the third time.

“Hwa?” You asked cautiously, glancing at Dr. Choi who stood near you with the angelic essence vial in one hand and a lighter in the other. You squeezed his limp hand, making him look at you.

“Why did you call me?” He asked, tone as sombre as the first day he saw you. “What are you doing- what is happening?”

“You have to leave this body, angel,” you wiped the tear that rolled down his face. “Go back to your realm for now- just leave-”

You paused when he squeezed his eyes shut, your words eliciting a deep, pained groan out of his mouth. Dr. Choi recognised your signal and set the tip of the sword on fire and the two of you held its hilt, hoping the angel would not possess one of you if it exited the body. You checked the monitor- Seonghwa’s vitals were starting to drop which meant the demonic essence must be working with full force on his body now.

You took the angelic essence vial from the doctor and clutched it in your fist, moving to whisper in Seonghwa’s ear, calling Seonghwa’s name and reminding him of his promise- you have to come back. You have to fight back- you are my shield and I am your weapon, and I am fighting for you. I cannot navigate this world without your protection.

You did not know if it was Seonghwa or Hwa who turned his face so his lips met your cheeks, a confession and a promise tumbling from his mouth. You looked up to meet his eyes but he shut them and fell still.

Muttering a prayer to any deity who was listening, you poured the contents of the vial in Seonghwa’s mouth, Dr. Choi’s hand on your shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. The sound of your sniffles and the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room for a few minutes before Seonghwa sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes opened- unglowing.

“Seonghwa,” you breathed, holding your breath as you handed the sword to Dr. Choi and moved to cup his face, checking the vitals on the monitor before turning your full attention to him. He was already looking at you with a dazed look and you locked eyes with him, waiting for his touch to burn you as you caressed his hair, but nothing happened.

You were okay.

“Seonghwa?” You asked cautiously again. “It’s you, right? Tell me it’s you, please.”

Seonghwa gulped, his mouth awfully dry but he managed to move his head in a nod and the wave of exhaustion finally caught up to you, making your legs go weak as you slumped against his body, resting your head on his chest to catch your breath. Dr. Choi moved around and did the work, untying Seonghwa’s limbs and making sure he was responsive, taking some bloodwork and checking to see if there was anything amiss.

“There are still remainders of both the demonic essence and angelic essence in his body,” he said as he observed the blood. “But I think we’ve done what we could have. It will take a while for him to recover so we can continue to monitor him-”

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa insisted and you stifled a grin, looking up at him. “I’m done being the lab rat.”

Dr. Choi smiled. “Welcome back, Sir.”

Seonghwa shot a glare in his direction as he shifted into a sitting position, ignoring his chuckles and looking at you.

“What did you do?”

“Tried to expel the angel out of your body,” you linked your hands and he squeezed them. “It’s… happened, right? Can you feel him anywhere?”

“Not really,” he scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “This could have gone wrong.”

“Obviously. It could have gone very wrong,” you shuddered at the thought. “But I had to take a chance. Hwa was taking over your consciousness with each passing day, and as much as I loved the angel, I couldn’t let him do that to you.”

Seonghwa regarded your expressions, nodding. “And what if the angel ended up taking over?”

You pursed your lips and shrugged. “I think he would have probably killed me for hiding everything from him. I was prepared for that too-” you looked at your side where the sword now stood in the bucket, the fire doused.

“Anyways, the important thing is that you’re back, Seonghwa,” you smiled wholeheartedly. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Seonghwa smiled back though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed the back of your hand before letting you go, watching your body move with a newfound energy as you wrapped up everything in the lab, asking Dr. Choi to get some rest as well.

Once back at home, having washed up and eaten a hearty meal, you took Seonghwa to his room and held his hands, locking eyes with him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, scanning his face.

“Just tired, and you know how there’s still the after effects,” Seonghwa muttered, sighing. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re angry at me, now is the time to take it out,” you teased. “Though you knew very well what you were getting into.”

“I’m not,” he scoffed, amused. “Well, I am but not because of this,” he corrected. “But I think I’ve learned to let the anger go now. There’s a reason for everything that happens, and for the decisions we make.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Looks like Hwa’s still inside you.”

“What?”

“There’s no way you said that,” you teased, “You don’t compromise to understand other people- you do what you want.”

“Yeah, well,” Seonghwa shrugged. “The angel must have rubbed off on me.”

You smiled and Seonghwa noted the weariness in your eyes. “Will you… miss the angel?”

“I will… of course I will,” you admitted, looking sideways. “I just hope he’s okay. Can you tell what happened to him? Did he get out or… did he get hurt?”

“He got hurt,” Seonghwa confirmed and you pressed your lips, taking a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t think he made it, y/n. I can’t tell for sure right now, but it’s not looking good.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands and he moved to embrace you. There were no tears left to cry. You simply clutched onto him and let him calm you down. He let go with a kiss to your forehead.

“Everything will be okay,” he promised and you nodded.

Everything was going to be okay.

“Love, can you hand me the cinnamon powder?” Seonghwa asked, far too focused on the plating of his latest creation even though you were going to devour it in seconds. You told him exactly that as he sprinkled some on the pancakes, making sure the strawberries were set before drizzling chocolate over them.

“Perfect,” his eyes twinkled with the sort of gleam you used to see only when he was about to take someone’s life.

How the tables had turned.

“It’s just breakfast, Seonghwa, it doesn’t have to be that serious-”

“Shh,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “We need a good meal to be in good spirits. And then we can go and shed some blood- Assemblyman Hwang should not have used street gangs to try to expose our network.”

You shook your head, agreeing, but still amused as you watched him pour the freshly blended fruit juice into your glasses.

“Now eat,” he ordered and you bowed mockingly with a ‘yessir’ before you dived in.

The angel had definitely rubbed off on Seonghwa, because there was no other explanation to this. Soon after Seonghwa recovered, he was back to business, making new deals and expanding his network further as if he had some newfound energy- or perhaps, he was making up for the lost time. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t be complaining- you were simply glad that he was back.

Though he was a bit different. Gentler, yet still very Seonghwa with his demanding personality. He also picked up cooking, reminding you of your teenage days when he used to make whatever he could with whatever you had at disposal. He was always creative with his meals, but now, his creative freedom was almost surprising.

Park Seonghwa was back, but a changed man. Still insanely evil at the very core, still driven by his blood thirst and hunger for power. Maybe he had changed only where it concerned you- more welcoming towards you, more understanding of your actions, and so, so loving. His love was as gentle as the angel at times, and as fierce as Seonghwa’s devotion. Sometimes, you were reminded of Hwa- it was a given when they had worn the same skin.

But your Seonghwa was still very human. And that was all that mattered. His love did not burn you and he did not fear anyone.

You finished your meals and went to get ready to go out with him- he was letting you accompany him to his ‘little outings’ more and though he wasn’t getting his hands dirty most of the time, the lackeys doing that for him, he still liked going out in the field himself every once in a while. Today was one of those days and you went to your own room to arm yourself.

Seonghwa got ready first, waiting for you in the lobby, staring at the holy sword that was now a showpiece, perched on one of the walls. He felt almost compelled to trace the hilt of the sword, daring to touch the blade that was capable of harming angels, and with a little shriek he drew his hand back, the tips of his fingers an angry red, burned by the sword.

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, moving to the kitchen for some privacy before muttering the prayer he had said for aeons now, allowing his fingertips to heal. He caught his reflection on the glossy material of the fridge, his pupils glowing and he shut them, taking a few deep breaths to get his powers under control.

He heard the faint thumps of your footsteps as you came downstairs and he fixed his posture and his expressions to mimic Seonghwa before he stepped out of the kitchen, nodding in approval when you showed him your weapons before following you outside.

He let you call you by the name of the human that he was not, and he willingly played along, letting you think that your beloved human had defeated the angel when that was not the case at all. Your beloved human was gone.

Good and evil must coexist in order to survive. But sometimes, the good becomes the evil and the evil becomes the good- they were never meant to balance each other.

It was only a matter of which one would weigh more and tip the scale in its favour.

#the way i almost forgot to post 💀#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa angst #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez ff #ateez mafia au #not proofread so don't come at me

579 notes · View notes

livelaughlovesubs · 2 months ago

Text

~ 09.10 - Michael ~

Dom!reader x sub!michael - reader is gender neutral

Warning: thigh riding, dubcon (becomes consensual), dacryphilia, mind break, sub space, virgin Michael, corruption kink, slight hierophilia, public sex..?, a bit exhibitionist, teasing, kissing, making out, mentioned kidnapping, Michael cries a lot just saying, this is a little sad in the middle

~ Wordcount: 6.2k ~

Nini!rant: requested by @rae-pss - inspired by his evolution date, I SPEND TOO LONG ON THE PREMISE

Kinktober list 2024

It’s been a few days now that you’ve been brought to heaven by Raphael. He did promise you he’ll kidnap you one day, what you didn’t expect was for that ‘someday’ to happen this soon. As to how that happened? Well, the sky was clear that day, so much that he could see your silhouette from the edge of heaven. Leading to him darting down like a hawk who found its prey, and holding you between his arms before flying off again.

You didn’t even have time to yell or reach out to your companions, who were dumbfounded to the point of being frozen in place. It must have looked pretty stupid after all. Once you were brought to heaven, Raphael looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. “I’m not going to call you 'good boy', Rara, you kidnapped me.” You brushed him off, then sighed and asked, “I can’t go back down, huh?” He nodded his head. “As expected, fine, then show me around here.” This was a reaction he didn’t expect, why did you sound so done with everything—

The next few hours were spent with the little angel showing you around all excited, though he tried his hardest to not wag his tail. You followed closely, looking around this unfamiliar place. There weren’t any kind of fun things or shops in heaven, only houses for residents. It looked pretty depressing, especially because everything was rid of colors and purely white. When he asked if heaven ain’t better than hell or earth, you didn’t have the heart to answer honestly.

Soon you reached the last destination, his own place, where he would spend his nights. That’s when you found out all the seraphim’s sleep together, on the floor, with a thin cushion only. Compared to the devils, angels must have been real minimalists. To Raphael's dismay, Gabriel and Michael were also inside the building. You met Gabriel in the prayer room, where you almost got blinded by his halo. When your kidnapper saw him, he quickly tried to rush you out of the room, but Gabriel still noticed your presence.

“You brought Solomon’s descendant here? Why?” He shot you a glare, ready to put his scythe to use. You stared back all disgusted. “Don’t you dare, Gabriel. They belong to me.” He scoffed, and stood between you and the once-praying angel, to hide your form from his piercing gaze. The two of them were fighting like cats and dogs, basically not paying any attention to you anymore.

Which is why you took that opportunity to sneak away, tender steps as you backed out of the room. You aimlessly walked around their residence, exploring this new world, starting to pity their mundane lives. If you were to spend centuries in this boring place, where everything was white and monotone, you'd become a feral beast as well and probably lose your mind.

Like a miracle, you found something colorful, amid this white paradise. Carefully you stepped out of the building, into what seemed to be the garden. With a gentle swipe of your hand, you opened and closed the door, looking around to get familiar with your surroundings. There were flowers, everywhere, so many that it looked like straight out of a painting. It was simply beautiful. By the looks of it, this could be the garden of Eve that’s so infamous on earth, for this was a scenery so magnificent you didn’t anticipate it.

Heck, it looked a little out of place even, for so many colors to exist on this plain canvas that’s called heaven, as if god dropped a bucket of paint over this secret place. Slowly, you walked along the path to the huge apple tree in the middle. In front of it was a white pavilion, underneath it was a table with six chairs, but two of them had been stacked and pushed to the side.

“Beautiful…” you whispered breathlessly, eyes sparkling with admiration. There were so many kinds of flowers you’d expect the smell to be intense and intoxicating, but it wasn’t. This defied all logic, though you were kind of getting used to it by now. Only if you squeezed your eyes shut and focused solely on the smell, could you feel a sweet scent reach your nose, a scent you couldn’t quite describe. You tried to identify the smell and concentrated really hard, but to your surprise, you noticed a hint of sadness in the undertone of the scent.

Startled, you looked around, wondering if you were going crazy. Then you heard water flowing, no, to be more specific, someone watering the flowers. With even quieter steps, you approached the source of the noise and caught a glimpse of a figure with black hair. It must be Michael, you thought, and wanted to turn around and quickly leave before he tries to kill you, if not for him who mumbled, “Don’t run.” You froze in place, he didn’t even look up from the flowers, still tending to them.

You waited until he was done, nervously sweating as you clenched your hands. He wouldn’t kill you here, right? “Are you going to kill me?” Look at you, so bold, taking the initiative like this. Michael frowned, “Not here, I don’t want your filthy blood getting on my flowers.” So you were correct, Michael was the one who took care of those plants. “Ah.., ermm, understandable, those flowers are very pretty.”

The angel still had that distinct scorn on his face and a breath of arrogance, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His black hair stood out among all the colors, and the feathers of his wing that fluttered softly in the wind, as well as his right cheek which still hasn’t stopped crying. “Obviously they'd be pretty, I’m personally tending to them. Now get out, you are lucky I’m busy.” He walked past you, shoving you to the side and almost making you fall into the flowerbed, before filling up the watering can.

You stared at him emptily, then walked to the pavilion and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning back and watching him. “What do you think you are doing?” Michael then groaned, shooting you a furious look. “I’m looking at the flowers," You answered defiantly. “I thought I told you to get out—”

“Y/n!” Raphael’s voice rang through the garden, and he ran, almost tripping over Michael who was hovering near the entrance. “Urgh- don’t stand in my way, Michael.” When the black-haired angel heard that, he flared up, and his wing also flapped around very quickly, “Bloody hell Raphael, I was here first.” Quickly you stumbled across the yard and stopped the fight from escalating, grabbing the arm of the red angel, “Don’t fight, don’t fight, I’m here Rara. So, where did you want to take me?”

Raphael gave the other angel a final glare, before turning to you, "I haven't shown you your bedroom yet, come." Afterward, he walked away without looking back, holding your hand in his. Your gaze lingered on Michael for a while, longer than intended, before eventually turning around and following the much too enthusiastic boy.

That was your first day in heaven, and the days that followed weren’t all that different. It has become your daily routine to come to the garden, every single day. You were simply infatuated by the exotic flowers, and frankly, because you were curious about Michael. Why was he so dead on taking care of these flowers? Did he like pretty things, or was this simply his hobby? Every day, without fail, you’d bring some snacks and drinks with you and enjoy them under the pretty pavilion. Sometimes, more often than not, you’d be accompanied by Raphael as well.

Michael didn’t like that one bit, but since this garden belonged to all three seraphim’s, he couldn’t forbid Raphael from entering. Whenever you two spend time chatting and eating, he’d try to ignore you. Yet he couldn’t help but steal the occasional glances at the two of you being all lovely dovely. If you were to meet his face during these moments, he'd have an expression of pure disgust on his face, though he would never look away. Sometimes he also stares with an expression that wasn't disgust, it was something you couldn't put your finger on.

Particularly so when you’d pat and stroke Raphael on the head, hug him goodbye, or have him lay his head on your lap while you laugh all carefree. There was something about it, that seemed way too familiar, so intimate that it made him reminisce.

Back to the present, this time you came to the garden alone, which was rare, but not unusual. Michael hovered on the ground, the watering can placed next to him, he found it to be insane how used he’s gotten to your presence. Normally, he'd immediately luge for you and try to murder you, but now he's tolerating you for the sake of Raphael. You walked up to the angel, squatting, looking at the same batch of flowers he was looking at. He frowned at you for a split second, before turning his gaze back to the flowers.

“They are pretty, what’s their name?” You eventually asked, after admiring them for a good second. The flower had a pure white color, it hung from the thin stem, looking like multiple little bells. Michael stayed quiet for a moment, a gentle breeze running through his silky long hair, making them fly up a little. His soft feathers moved gently, proof of how soft they must be, you felt an impulse to reach out and touch them. He pondered over if he wanted to talk to the likes of you, then answered, “Lily of the valley.”

After hearing his answer, your eyes widened, you didn’t expect him to actually reply to you, and so calmly as well, it almost made you flustered. Wanting to continue the conversation, you quickly chirped, “Ah- it’s a pretty name.. erm, do these flowers have a meaning?” His head hung low when you voiced that question, the scent of sadness tickled your nose again.

Since you’ve spend so much time in the garden, you’ve come to understand it was the scent of Michael, who cried all the time. He debated with himself whether or not he should tell you, it was a little too intimate to tell strangers after all, yet there was something about you that made him feel weirdly at ease, and he whispered almost inaudibly, “They remind me of someone.” You didn’t need to ask twice to understand who he meant, instead, you chuckled. The boy grabbed your collar with an angry expression, and snapped, “What are you laughing at?”

You didn’t resist and explained, “Nothing, I’m not making fun of you. It was a bittersweet laugh.” Michael hesitated, the hand clutching your collar trembled slightly. “What do you mean.” He demanded, not even really asking. “It’s just… there’s someone I know who also plants flowers to remember his loved ones.” His grip loosened, and he pulled his hand back, you could swear you noticed his tears flow a little faster. “I think I know the name of the flower as well, it was— gardenia.”

He was a smart man, even if you beat around the bush he was fully aware of the person you meant. Seeing as you got him on your hook, it was time to spill the tea, just for the drama effect. You weren't sure where you were going with this, though you've always wanted to help these forsaken brothers, even if just a little, “but you know, he was a clumsy man. Even though he was the one who told me the name of the flower, he'd mistakenly call the flower ‘Michael’. What a silly man.”

Suddenly Michael darted towards you, tripping you over. You tried your best to not damage any of the plants around you, hands kept to your chest as the male got on top of you, pinning your head between his arms. Your head luckily didn't hit the stone floor, though his weight was a little uncomfortable. That's when you heard him scream, “Stop… acting like him..!”

“Hu-huh..?” The confusion was undeniable in your tone, and you tried to look at the man who was hovering over you. His hair blocked your sight, tickled your skin, and then wet droplets splashed onto your face. Were these... tears? Ah, probably from his- hold up, he was crying with both eyes. You gawked, surprised by his vulnerable emotional state. Guess angels were only neglected children after all. Gently, you brushed his hair to the side, seeing his eyes become watery and spilling hot tears.

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't deny your touch but instead leaned into it. His voice was quivering ever so little as he stated, “You knew from the start, didn’t you? So why.. why did you.. you and Raphael, you two..” his sobbing increased, blurring his sight with his tears. In the end, he stopped pinning you to the ground and straddled your lap.

With lingering doubts, you sat up, watching him wipe his tears with his now equally wet sleeves. You didn't know what came over you when you whispered subconsciously, “Beautiful.” It was what you thought at that moment, your most honest feelings. He stopped for a moment to look at you, then smiled bitterly, muttering, “You two are similar even in that regard..." Suddenly he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your neck and holding onto your back, clenching your clothes tightly.

Without missing a beat, he nuzzled into your neck, sobbing into your shoulder, all quietly, only the occasional hiccup could be heard slipping from his puffy lips. You knew all he needed was a shoulder to cry on, so you patted the back of his head, stroking through his soft locks, using your other hand to grab his waist. “It’s alright. And let me tell you something, I know Lucifer loves you just as dearly as you do." To your surprise he rubbed his wet cheek against yours, then turned to look at you, “…I guess you weren’t doing it on purpose?”

He had a meek smile on his face, an almost embarrassed expression. The tears didn’t stop flowing, though it seemed he calmed down a little. “I don’t know what you mean?” You retracted your hand from the back of his head and wiped his tears away. The angel stared at your fingers for a moment, then leaned even closer to you, uttering, “Lucifer Hyeong would have kissed them away.” For the next few seconds, you froze.

Why did he tell you that...? Was he hinting at you to do the same? Does that mean he thought you were similar to Lucifer?

“May I ask why you think so?” The question was a little out of pocket, but he knew what you tried to ask him. “You know what I... miss about Hyeong?" He looked down, clenching his teeth, muscles tensing before relaxing them again to finish his sentence, "Everything, I-I miss his laughter, his hugs, his soft strokes- And guess what you've been doing in front of me?” You went quiet at the last part, this time you knew exactly what he meant without further explanation.

Though you truly weren't doing it to spite him or with other ulterior motives, you were simply being yourself. The look you had was indescribable, it wasn’t quite pity, but more a cocktail of many emotions. “You…” he began once again, stopping to take a deep, shaky breath, to calm his erratic heart and stop the sobbing, before continuing, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I didn't mean to appear identical to-” you didn’t get the chance to end your speech when he interrupted you, “don’t you dare speak with my brother’s tone, while looking and acting like him.” At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, how could it be that everything you did reminded him of that person? Furthermore, you feared he was starting to have a twisted and possibly delusional image of you, to make you his substitute for Lucifer. You were sick of playing house after all that ordeal with the devils— especially Sitri.

All in all, no matter how similar their image of you and the person they meet in their dream is, you could never become the same. You were your own person, and not whatever others wanted you to be. The only thing you could think of doing was to somehow comfort him, this beautiful man who didn’t understand his own feelings, in a way his dearest older brother would never. So you hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace, something he desperately wanted and needed.

The results were him crying even more frantically, weeping like a baby bird while he cried out, “I missed you so much, brother.” You didn't like his choice of words. After a while, you said silently, like a soft exhale of air that grazed his ears, “I’m not Lucifer.”

His grip on you tightened, but nothing else happened until you commented, "And I'm not your brother or Hyeong." The angel whined out, “Stop..” yet you didn’t, you followed your statement up with, “Not to mention I doubt Lucifer will ever come back to heaven.” Micheal looked like he was devastated, unable to accept the truth, he was basically begging you now as he yelled, “S-stop! I demand you to stop talking—” You shifted in your seat, now grabbing his wrists with one hand, “Michael, I think the reason he left is because it’s time for you to move on.”

He stayed completely still, arms now placed above his head, cheeks, and nose completely red while he wore this lost look in his eyes. “I’ll say it again, I’m not Lucifer. No matter how I act, I won’t be able to give you the same solace as he does.” Slowly, you guided his wrist to your lips, and bit down, leaving behind a red mark and a flustered Michael. He whimpered at the pain, taking his sweet time to snap back to reality as if he wanted to stay in his own fantasy world. “I can at most comfort you in other ways.” You then added, holding him closer with your free hand.

The boy didn’t struggle anymore, his pupils shook slightly, cheeks rosy as he hid it behind his wing. His face has been decorated with those pretty, shiny water droplets, some even dried off already. “W-what..?” Before he could prepare himself for what you had in store for him, you guided his body to move back and forth on your lap. He almost shrieked at the sudden movement, and then he stared at you with a baffled look.

If he had to describe it, it felt like he was riding a horse, but why were you doing this? Rubbing his metallic chastity belt against your skin, wasn't it uncomfortable? “Hold on to me.” You then said, and he became even more confused. Nonetheless, he obliged all obediently, grabbing your shoulders but taking care to not use too much strength.

This shift in behavior wasn’t because of you, he was still seeing you as that person, as him. With gritted teeth, you pulled down the zipper to his pants, and his cheeks flushed immediately. “Wait! What do you think you are doing?!!” He screamed, obviously not prepared for that bold move of yours. The boy was being so loud your eardrums almost exploded.

Judging by his reaction, you were achieving the effect you wanted, breaking down his idolized version of you, “I’m guessing Lucifer never taught you sex education~?” You joked and stared at his chastity belt. It’s the second one you’ve seen, the first one was Raphael’s. This one looked a little different in shape and color, it was golden, like most of the accessories of Michael. Despite it being a few weeks already, you still remembered clearly how you unlocked that device, which is why it didn’t take long until you freed the poor member of the male from its cage.

Michael stared down at you, unmoving, eyes widened while being as red as a tomato. When he heard the click of the lock, he felt his heart leap for a second. “No- no way.. you opened this? So easily?” He blushed and seemed slightly disgusted by the looks of his erection, which was leaking glowing precum down his shaft. This is also his first time seeing his dick, you almost forgot about the fact, that angels are basically all virgins. Gosh, how cute~

With one pull, you threw his chastity belt to the side, staring at his half-erect dick. “Yep. And- oh my? You are way bigger than your brother?” To be honest, you weren’t even sure if you were impressed or terrified. Michael hid his face with the back of his palm, thighs instinctively trying to squeeze close when a gust of wind blew against his now fully hard cock, though of course there weren't any results, considering he was straddling your thighs.

“No, d-don’t look..! No one should... expect god…” more tears swelled up in his eyes, he was also embarrassed at doing it outside, here so many people could catch you two. It would be blasphemy if anyone saw him in this state, he'd probably rip off his own wings and join his brother in hell if that happened! Knowing that you almost felt bad for him, for all these sexually frustrated and very much depraved creatures.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll just help you jack one off. You’ll feel much better afterward.” With that being said, you got to work. Fingers sinking into his smooth flesh, moving him around on your thigh, making him rub the underside of his most intimate parts against your clothes legs. It felt so rough against his perfect and soft skin, and on top of all of it, it felt so weird and so hot. He mewled, unable to fathom all these sensations, eyes searching for some guidance from you. Though you deliberately ignored him, gliding him across your thigh, trying to stimulate the male.

He began trashing around, resisting, pushing you away while crying out, "No! H-hyeong would never do something sinful like this..!! You stop these.. unholy and inappropriate acts!" You only laughed in response, asking teasingly, "But tell me, Michael, doesn't this feel good?" Completely treating his request like some passing breeze, feeling grateful that he was still capable of making his own judgment.

"I- no, I'm not answering you?! Are you trying to slander my brother?" He sounded just a tiny bit angry with you, trying hard to ignore the building arousal in his lower abdomen. "No, I never claimed to be him. Do you understand what I'm getting at, Michael?" His mouth hung open, as if he wanted to say something, yet not a single word escaped his throat. On the other hand, a series of moans and choked-out whimpers reached your ears. "Nghh... ahHh- I, s-still, sto- hnNghhh!"

Not good, he was being swept up by those hellish sentiments, by the temptations of the flesh. Why did it have to feel so hot, and be so brain-numbing? Poor birdy could barely think straight after all that edging on your part. You were way too perverted and too much of a tease to be his kind and gentle Hyeong!

"Y-y/n...! Please, I-I don't want this... it's scary, stop..!" At last, he resulted to pleading, unable to deal with the weight of his emotions clashing and fighting internally. It was the truth that he sought comfort by your hands and wanted you to fill the hole in his heart, but then you went ahead and turned the table at him. He didn't want to be touched by someone who wasn't god... and Lucifer. He also didn't want his first sexual encounter to be with you, or if it had to be done, out in the open in a place like this, where he'll defile all these pure and pretty flowers.

"Don't touch me..!" Even though he was so deadbeat on his mindset, he didn't try to push you away, was it out of consideration for the flowers or because he didn't dare hurt you after seeing Lucifer in you? No, hardly so, you could see right through his facade. He was probably thinking about how awful this situation was, but you knew he was lying to himself.

To prove your point, you stopped, leaning back and using your arms to support yourself off the ground, you apologized almost half-heartedly, "Alright, sorry then, I won't touch you. So, you do as you see fit. Climb off if that's what you truly want." Once again you surprised the angel with your actions, he didn't think you'd be so willing.

Only when you stopped pleasuring him he noticed that he actually missed the bubbly and warm feeling of your touch or that his erection was throbbing almost painfully so. He glanced down in disbelief, humiliation filling his senses. If he had to be blunt he had absolutely no idea how to react to this, so he did the only thing he could think of, doing whatever you did. Mind you his brain was already turned into mush due to all the tension from before.

Skeptically, he rolled his hips along your thighs, squeezing his lips shut in a poor attempt to stiffen his moans. At this rate, he was going to overstimulate himself since he didn't know what he was doing. Pride thrown out of the window while he bit back his shame, desperately grinding against you with that flushed look on his face. Small, muffled whines still seeped through his almost, almost water-tight defense. "Don't you dare... say anything... mhm!!"

He knew how hypocritical he was being, doing exactly what he apparently ‘hated’, that's why he didn't want to hear any mean comments from You. But his body moved on its own, he couldn't stop chasing after his own bliss. Why did it have to feel so good anyway? To drag his cock along your thigh, grinding his pre into your clothes... You watched the show unfold with attentive eyes, smirking as if you were saying, "Told ya". His grip on your shoulders got tighter, almost painful to bear.

Then he laid his forehead against the crook of your neck, body shivering tremendously while he groaned, "I-I... bloody hell... you did this to me." That angelic voice of his grazed your skin, hot and laced with need. "I don't know why I'm.. hngg, reacting l-like this..." He continued, egging you on, not getting to the point. "So, what are you getting at?" Again, you were aware of what he wanted from you, but you wanted to hear it from him personally.

“What I mean is- you... you take over!” Suddenly he leaned back to stare right into your eyes, he was still crying from both eyes. This time you were sure it wasn't due to his self-pity and sadness. You reached out for his cheek, cupping his face. His skin was hot, so much so that your hand felt ice cold against him. He leaned into your touch, lips squeezed into a pout, brows furrowed as he held his gaze low. "I thought you didn't like it?" You cooed, rubbing his tears away with your thumb.

Michael stayed quiet, he couldn't argue with that, he was the one that desperately pushed your touch away. That's why he just slumped back against you, mumbling, "P-please... I don't like— this heat either... make it go away..." Just to mess with him some more, you hummed, tilting your head to the side, "Hmm, I don't know, can't you do it yourself?" Now the angel was gritting his teeth, you wondered if you went too far. Much to your surprise, he pulled you into a deep, clumsy kiss.

The salty taste of his tears grazed your lips, his tongue messily stumbled into your mouth and he slurped and swindled it around aimlessly. You stayed still for a second, partly due to you getting startled, as well as you being in awe about how bad he was at kissing. Perhaps it was his first kiss, how cute, he's willingly gifting it to you. Since he has given you something so valuable, you had to show him a good time now, ain't that right?

Slowly, to not scare him, you moved your tongue as well, meeting his eager kiss with a smile on your lips. Closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself, only after seeing the embarrassed look on his blushy features. While he was distracted, you placed your graceful fingers around his slim waist again, giving him little instruction on what to do. Then, once he got into a rhythm, you moved your leg to meet his thrusts.

His heat and wetness already seeped through your pants, soaking your skin with his sticky substances. Yet you didn't bother, focusing solely on him and his pleasure. After a few sucks on your side, against his willing body, he started moaning into the kiss. Long, drawn-out moans that ended with a high-pitched whine for more, "ahhnnngh.. mhmm-uhm!!"

His hips suddenly jerked forwards, his poor cock was leaking and twitching helplessly, wagging around like some kind of tail. The neglect was impossible to overlook. May it be for his red, swollen tip that was decorated with glistening pearls of pre, or his bulging veins that looked like they were about to pop, it didn't matter. All he knew was he wanted more of this ecstatic, hypnotizing feeling that only you could provide.

Gradually, his movements became faster and more sloppy, your grip on him was so tight that his skin bruised. He choked, gagging on your tongue, throwing his head back to break the kiss. This was too much, too intense..! That poor birdy needs a break, or his brain will melt! Despite that, you grabbed him by his wing and forced him to stay still, lips crashing against his again. The feeling of your hand on his wing only intensified his pleasure, making him more erratic as electricity coursed through him.

You weren't done nor satisfied yet, hence you shoved your tongue down his throat again. "Mffhhmm!! ♡♡~! Y/n- I- nghhH..!!" This sensation, of something tingling inside him, threatened to burst at any rate. How was he supposed to hold himself back? All resistance fell on deaf ears and crumbled, and he felt himself being brought over the edge of bliss and sanity. For a moment that was supposed to be forbidden for him, or downright sinful, he felt strangely warm inside.

He hadn't felt this fuzzy and at ease for a long time, and so, he did what his instincts told him, he embraced the feeling. Tears poured from his eyes like little waterfalls, his face ruined to the point of being unrecognizable, and his wing flapping around in a pathetic attempt to balance out the pleasure. He grabbed a fistful of your clothes, almost digging holes into them as he relentlessly rode your thigh. He felt weak, so powerless like never.

His knees have been shaking for quite some time now. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, he would have slumped forward and fallen into your embrace, that was how weak he was. More sweet whispers of pleasure slipped from his swollen lips, sending a tingle down your spine. "Hmmm... m' su-sumthin's cummin'..!♥︎♡!!" Michael tried to warn you, head so empty he couldn't form proper sentences. Not to mention you were still making out with him, rendering it almost impossible for him to speak coherently.

His dick twitched around a few times again, the tip was rather rubbing against your belly than your thighs, leaving behind strings of pre in its wake. Finally, after an eternity of tension and promised pleasures, he felt himself reaching his limit. The feeling was nothing he had ever experienced before, he couldn't even try to put it into words that was how mind-blowing it was. With one last meek try to warn you, which ended up sounding more like a high-pitched shriek of bliss and pure, primal ecstasy, he came all over the two of you.

“MhNMHHH~ aaAhHHnNNGGh♡♡♥︎♡♥︎～!!” Tridal waves of pleasure surged through his veins, making him shudder due to the intensity. His toes curled, wing flapping uncontrollably as thick ropes of white cum spurt out of his way too-overstimulated dick. It splattered across your clothes, and his as well. Judging by the amount of glowing fluids he shot out, he must have been pent up. Once again, you took the first orgasm ever of an angel, and it felt weirdly fun.

All this pleasure was too much for an inexperienced virgin angel like him~ his mind basically blanked out during his ejaculation, causing him to whimper and groan like some animal in heat, "Ah- uhm.? Nghh, uh-hnggh ♥︎♡♡!" He never knew there was pleasure like this, this amazing and tingly. It was just like the day he lost his eye.

You weren't even sure what he was trying to say, maybe nothing, maybe insults, whatever it was you didn't really care. Instead, you were fascinated by how different yet similar his reaction was to Raphael's. So it was true that angels were as bland as their buildings, with no real knowledge of what the pleasures of the flesh meant. You smiled, looking at his wrecked face. Still as red as ever, with dried-out tears stuck to his skin, and drool hanging out of his mouth, he has never looked more beautiful.

His wing has also calmed down, it was almost limping next to his head. Eyes still a little unfocused as he slowly regained his clarity, moving his hand to his face to rub his puffy eyes. That silky, untangled hair was a little messy more, and his clothes wrinkled. "That was a little too much stimulation for your first, huh?" You joked, and he didn't have the strength to give you a sassy answer, but he glared at you nonetheless. It was more of an I'm-too-tired-for-this glare than anything else though.

You didn't move from your spot, not wanting to rush him, giving him enough time to collect himself until he deemed himself ready to stand up from your lap. In the meantime, you noticed that the sad scent that radiated from him has dissipated, at least for now. Somehow, you felt really proud of yourself for that, smiling under your breath as you placed a kiss on his forehead.

Michael squeezed his eyes with a pout but didn't resist. His argument or defense for himself was that he was too worn out and tired, for now, and that he had enough opportunities to kill you in the future. It was nothing else but excuses, considering angels are just delusional beings at their core. As soon as he stood up on his wobbly legs, you wanted to ask how he was doing, that's when Raphael emerged from behind the doorframe.

His head peeked into the garden as he smirked darkly, mischievously even. "Pff, you look like a horny beast, Michael. Was it fun, screaming so loud I could hear your disgraceful moaning from miles away?" You stared at the blond angel with a skeptical look, he was acting as if he didn't act just the same. Then, he turned to you and said, "Anyway, y/n, you, come with me. I have something to show you." Now he stood in the doorframe with his entire figure, leaned against it.

You stood up from where you were previously sitting, and answered all carefree as you walked past him, "Okay ~ lemme get changed first." Raphael made way for you when you walked by and nodded in acknowledgment. Once you were gone, he made eye contact with his dear brother and had a slight scorn on his face. Michael frowned back at him, brushing off the dust from his clothes, even though there were bigger problems about his appearance than that. Like his disheveled hair, or the traces of shining cum on his shirt.

“What, don't like the fact they aren't only yours?” After a quick glaring contest, Michael spoke up, a sneer present in his voice. He got closer to Raphael, now standing right in front of him, crossing his arms around his chest. Though it seemed he had recovered very quickly, his legs and knees were still a little uneasy. "...I can't say I'm pleased with it, but they are free to do as they wish." The Blondie said, averting his gaze for a split second.

“How unusual of you, sharing was never your strong point.” The black-haired seraphim commented. A snarky laugh erupted from the red angel, and he scoffed, "You are one to talk." Afterward, he turned around, waving his hand as if to say goodbye, "It's a shame that I'm not the only angel who has experienced god's given pleasure now, but oh well, I'm still their first, remember it well." With that, Raphael disappeared into the building, leaving Michael standing at the entrance to the garden, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

I found many different translations for the meaning of the mentioned flowers, but these are the ones that I liked best.

Lily of the valley: purity, happiness, nostalgia, sadness, pain, death

According to the bible, lily of the valley is most infamously mentioned in the Song of Solomon (2:11). It’s also sometimes used as a metaphor or comparison to Jesus Christ, due to its sweet scent and white colour (Ephesians 5:2). White, which is knows to be a sin-free colour, used to describe a person without sin -> Michael still sees luci as a person without sin

There’s also a saying that lilies are the tallest of flowers, but hangs its head down, symbolising humbleness (Philippians 2:6~8). Also it’s supposed to have a lot of medical qualities, so it fits lucifer, who’s a healer.

Gardenia: purity, harmony, sweetness, joy, secret love

Here, it’s also qualities and things lucifer wishes for Michael. Like harmony, joy. Then, how he sees him and thinks about him. I thought it’d be cute haha

I choose them very carefully, there was quite a lot of thought behind them, that’s why it got its own special mention here :]

425 notes · View notes