#genuinely nothing has me perk up more in delight

[takaraphoenix]

When a fic that starts out in a space after 3A includes Boyd and Erica being alive: ❤😍😘💖🥰😍💗🥰🥰💕😍😍💗😍😁💖🥰🥰💕

[fioredeciliego]

Sweet like Sin - Kim Minji x Fem!Reader

10k words

Y/N sat at a gleaming desk, absently twirling her quill as Archangel Gabrielle approached with her signature no-nonsense stride. A scroll materialized in her hand, glowing faintly with divine energy.

“Y/N,” Gabrielle began, her tone stern yet warm. “We’ve decided on your next assignment.”

Y/N perked up, brushing an errant strand of her halo-like light back into place. She loved assignments—they were her chance to guide humans toward a brighter path, to be the beacon of hope she was born to be.

Gabrielle placed the scroll on the desk. “You’ve been paired with a demon.”

The quill fell from Y/N’s hand, clattering onto the marble surface. “A demon?!”

Gabrielle nodded, the faintest hint of amusement in her usually impassive face. “Yes. Every demon gets a guardian angel. We believe this one has potential. It’s your job to bring it out.”

“But—but demons are incorrigible! They don’t listen, they don’t care, and they definitely don’t bake cookies for charity!”

Gabrielle raised a brow. “That’s why it’s your assignment, Y/N. You’ve always excelled in... stubborn cases.”

Y/N groaned, dramatically flopping her head onto the desk. “Fine. Who is it?”

Gabrielle unfurled the scroll with a wave of her hand, revealing an elegant name written in celestial script: Kim Minji.

Y/N squinted. “Never heard of her. Is she one of those fire-and-brimstone types? Or a sulky goth type?”

Gabrielle gave her a knowing smile. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

--

Moments later, Y/N stood in the assigned meeting spot, a tranquil meadow just beyond the pearly gates. She fidgeted, wings twitching nervously. In the distance, a faint shimmer appeared, growing closer and more vivid until a figure stepped through.

Y/N stiffened.

The demon wasn’t at all what she expected.

Instead of horns and a tail or a shadowy aura of menace, Minji looked... adorable. She had shoulder-length dark hair that framed her youthful, smiling face, and her black outfit seemed more chic than sinister. She waved enthusiastically as she approached, her grin dazzling and completely disarming.

“Hi there!” Minji chirped, practically bouncing on her heels. “Are you my guardian angel?”

Y/N blinked, unsure how to process the sheer sunshine radiating off this supposed demon. “Uh... yes? I’m Y/N.”

Minji clasped her hands together, eyes wide with delight. “Wow, you’re even prettier than I imagined! I hit the jackpot!”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat, her wings fluffing involuntarily. “Excuse me?”

Minji giggled, clearly enjoying the angel’s flustered reaction. “Oh, nothing. So, what’s the plan? Do we go cloud-hopping? Maybe you show me how to play the harp?”

Y/N shook herself out of her daze, glaring at Minji. “This isn’t a vacation. I’m here to help you grow kinder and—hopefully—redeem yourself.”

Minji tilted her head, looking genuinely intrigued. “Redeem myself? For what? I haven’t done anything bad today. Unless you count stealing Gabriel’s chocolate stash last week. But honestly, he shouldn’t leave it lying around like that.”

“You stole chocolate from an archangel?!”

Minji shrugged, her grin cheeky. “What can I say? It was calling my name.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering to herself. “This is going to be a long assignment.”

Minji stepped closer, hands clasped behind her back as she peered up at Y/N with an innocent expression. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m sure we’ll get along great. I mean, look at us—we’re a match made in Heaven! Well, and Hell.”

Y/N shot her a pointed glare. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to do my job.”

Minji smirked, clearly undeterred. “Sure, sure. But I bet you’ll like me eventually. Everyone does.”

“We’ll see about that.”

As they began walking toward their first session, Y/N tried to shake off the uneasy feeling in her chest. Minji might be a demon, but her smile was far too warm—and far too charming—for Y/N’s peace of mind.

“By the way,” Minji said, glancing at her. “Do guardian angels always look this good, or am I just lucky?”

Y/N groaned. This was definitely going to be a long assignment.

--

Y/N hovered just above the ground, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She scanned the meadow, her angelic senses on high alert. After the whirlwind that was Minji’s introduction, she’d spent the last few hours mentally preparing for whatever absurd antics the demon might pull next.

“This is fine,” Y/N muttered to herself, pacing in a small circle. “She’s probably plotting something. Maybe she’ll try to tempt me with—”

“Cookies!”

Y/N whirled around, her wings flaring instinctively. Standing behind her was Minji, holding a tray piled high with what appeared to be freshly baked cookies. The demon’s smile was wide and impossibly innocent, and the sunlight bouncing off her dark hair made her look far more angelic than Y/N was comfortable admitting.

“What,” Y/N said flatly, her gaze flicking between Minji and the cookies, “is this?”

Minji lifted the tray slightly, the smell of chocolate and caramel wafting toward Y/N. “Cookies! I baked them just for you.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily speechless. “You... baked cookies?”

Minji nodded enthusiastically, her grin never wavering. “Yep! I figured since it’s our first real meeting, I should make a good impression. I even used organic ingredients! You angels are into that, right?”

Y/N stared, trying to process the scene before her. “This has to be some kind of trick. Did you lace them with... I don’t know, sin or something?”

Minji gasped, clutching the tray dramatically to her chest. “How dare you accuse me of cookie corruption? These are pure, unadulterated baked goods. Scout’s honor!”

“You were never a scout,” Y/N deadpanned.

“Details.” Minji stepped closer, holding out the tray. “Come on, just try one. They’re not poisoned, I swear. Unless you’re allergic to deliciousness.”

Y/N hesitated, eyeing the cookies with suspicion. She wasn’t naïve enough to trust a demon, no matter how sweet they seemed—or smelled. But as Minji’s expectant gaze bore into her, Y/N found herself reaching out despite her better judgment.

She picked up a cookie, examining it like it was a cursed artifact. It looked... perfect. Golden brown, gooey chocolate chips, a sprinkling of sea salt on top. Against her will, her stomach rumbled.

Minji giggled, clearly pleased. “See? Even your celestial stomach knows what’s up.”

“Quiet,” Y/N muttered, breaking off a small piece of the cookie. She sniffed it, half-expecting it to burst into flames. When it didn’t, she cautiously took a bite.

The taste was heavenly.

Y/N froze, her eyes widening. The cookie melted in her mouth, the perfect balance of sweet and salty. It was, without question, the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“So?” Minji asked, leaning in with a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”

Y/N forced herself to swallow, quickly adopting a neutral expression. “It’s... acceptable.”

Minji’s grin grew wider. “Oh, come on! That was a celestial-sized bite of joy, and you know it.”

“It’s a cookie,” Y/N replied, striving for nonchalance. “Nothing more.”

Minji gasped, placing a hand over her heart as if wounded. “How dare you downplay my culinary masterpiece? That cookie could solve wars.”

“Or start them,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Despite her feigned indifference, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from taking another bite. She hated how good it was—and how much she hated that she didn’t hate Minji for it.

“Alright,” Y/N said after finishing the cookie, brushing crumbs off her pristine robes. “What’s your angle?”

Minji tilted her head, her expression genuinely confused. “Angle? What do you mean?”

“You’re a demon. There’s always an angle. Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll give you a glowing review? Or maybe you think if you act sweet, I’ll just ignore all your past sins.”

Minji’s smile softened, and she set the tray of cookies on a nearby rock. “Y/N, not every demon is out to manipulate you. Some of us just... like making people happy.”

Y/N arched a skeptical brow. “You’re saying you genuinely enjoy baking cookies for other people?”

Minji nodded, her gaze earnest. “Baking makes me feel calm. And seeing someone smile because of something I made? It’s the best feeling.”

For a moment, Y/N was taken aback. Minji’s words didn’t feel like the calculated charm of a manipulative demon. They felt... sincere.

“That doesn’t sound very demonic,” Y/N admitted cautiously.

Minji shrugged, her smile turning sheepish. “Yeah, well... I’m not exactly your textbook demon. I mean, I do my job—I tempt people, cause a little chaos here and there—but it’s not who I am all the time, you know?”

Y/N frowned, trying to reconcile Minji’s words with everything she’d been taught about demons. “If you don’t like being a demon, why not try to change?”

Minji looked away, her playful demeanor dimming slightly. “It’s not that simple. Once you’re marked as a demon, people expect you to act a certain way. Even if I wanted to... be different, it’s not like anyone would believe me. Except maybe you.”

The weight of Minji’s words hung in the air, and for the first time, Y/N felt a pang of sympathy for her assignment.

“Well,” Y/N said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood, “if you’re serious about changing, maybe start by not stealing archangels’ chocolate.”

Minji’s laugh was bright and melodic, a sound that caught Y/N off guard. “Noted. No more chocolate thievery. So... does this mean I passed the first meeting?”

Y/N sighed, glancing at the tray of cookies. “You didn’t set anything on fire or try to sell my soul, so I guess that’s a good start.”

Minji beamed. “I’ll take it!”

--

Y/N stood in front of the ominous-looking black door, wings twitching with unease. “So, this is your lair?” she asked, eyeing the ornate, gothic architecture with suspicion. “Why am I not surprised it screams ‘demonic chic’?”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, angel,” Minji said, her tone chipper. She leaned against the doorframe, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “You might actually like it inside.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I highly doubt that.”

Minji smirked, reaching for the handle. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t come in, you’ll miss out on my famous hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate?” Y/N repeated, her skepticism growing. “What kind of demon has hot chocolate in their lair?”

“The kind who knows how to live!” Minji chirped, pushing the door open with a dramatic flourish.

Y/N braced herself for the worst—screams of the damned, sulfuric smoke, grotesque decor. But as the door swung open, her jaw dropped.

Minji’s lair was... cozy.

The walls were painted a soft pastel pink, adorned with fairy lights and framed posters of serene landscapes. A plush couch sat in the center of the room, surrounded by mismatched but charming furniture. A fluffy white rug sprawled across the floor, and a collection of potted plants thrived in one corner.

“What... is this?” Y/N asked, stepping inside as if she were walking into an alternate reality.

“My humble abode,” Minji said proudly, kicking off her boots and flopping onto the couch. “Make yourself at home. Want a blanket? I have at least ten.”

Y/N blinked, unsure how to process the scene before her. “This doesn’t make any sense. You’re a demon. Where’s the fire? The brimstone? The souls writhing in agony?”

Minji propped her head up on one hand, grinning. “Oh, come on. That’s such a stereotype. Do you really think I’d live somewhere so depressing? I need good vibes to thrive.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re telling me the underworld lets you decorate like this?”

“Not exactly,” Minji admitted, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Technically, I’m supposed to maintain the whole ‘demonic doom’ aesthetic. But I figured, why not make it my own? Life—or afterlife—is too short to be surrounded by gloom.”

Y/N shook her head, utterly baffled. She wandered further into the lair, eyeing the eclectic decor. A small bookshelf caught her attention, filled with romance novels, cookbooks, and what appeared to be a collection of glitter pens.

“Are those... scented candles?” Y/N asked, pointing to a shelf lined with jars labeled Vanilla Dream, Ocean Breeze, and Pumpkin Spice.

“Of course,” Minji replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t have a cozy night in without candles.”

Y/N turned to Minji, hands on her hips. “How are you even a demon? You’re more wholesome than most angels I know.”

Minji sat up, crossing her legs beneath her. “Hey, don’t let the decor fool you. I can be very demonic when I need to be.”

“Oh, really?” Y/N challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Like when you bake cookies or steal archangels’ chocolate?”

Minji gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “That was a moment of weakness! Besides, I apologized for the chocolate thing.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible in a charming way, right?” Minji teased, winking.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t answer, instead continuing her exploration. She stopped in front of a cluster of framed photos on the wall, each showing Minji in various candid moments—laughing with other demons, posing with a giant plate of food, and even petting a golden retriever.

“Who takes these pictures?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious.

Minji hopped off the couch and joined her. “Oh, my friend Yeji. She’s a fellow demon, but she’s also really into photography. She says I’m her favorite subject because I’m so photogenic.”

Y/N studied the photos, noticing how happy Minji looked in every single one. It was hard to reconcile this carefree, radiant girl with the image of a scheming, malevolent demon.

“Do you ever take your job seriously?” Y/N asked, turning to Minji.

Minji tilted her head, her playful smile softening. “Of course I do. But that doesn’t mean I have to let it define me. Just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I can’t have fun or be kind. I’ve learned to make the most of what I’ve got.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, taken aback by the sincerity in Minji’s voice. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

Minji grinned, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “See? I’m not so bad once you get to know me.”

Y/N gave her a look. “Don’t push it.”

“Too late,” Minji said, grabbing a blanket from a nearby chair and draping it over Y/N’s shoulders. “Now sit down and try my hot chocolate. I guarantee it’ll change your life.”

Y/N hesitated but eventually let Minji guide her to the couch. Minji disappeared into the kitchen, and moments later, she returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and sprinkles.

“Sprinkles?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as Minji handed her a mug.

“They make everything better,” Minji replied, plopping down beside her.

Y/N took a tentative sip, and to her annoyance, it was delicious. Rich, creamy, and perfectly sweet—just like everything else about Minji’s bizarrely endearing existence.

As they sat in comfortable silence, Y/N found herself relaxing in Minji’s presence. Despite her initial doubts, she couldn’t deny that Minji had a way of making her feel at ease—a rare feat for anyone, let alone a demon.

“You know,” Minji said suddenly, breaking the quiet, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Y/N snorted. “We’ve known each other for less than a day.”

“Details,” Minji said with a wave of her hand. “I can already tell you’re going to be my favorite guardian angel.”

Y/N shook her head, hiding her small smile behind her mug. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Minji said cheerfully, raising her mug in a toast. “Here’s to our weird little partnership.”

Y/N clinked her mug against Minji’s, still unsure what she’d gotten herself into—but for the first time, she didn’t mind so much.

--

Y/N paced in front of the long, gleaming table, her pristine white robes shimmering under the room’s ethereal light. Wings twitching slightly, she tried to focus on the lesson at hand. Across from her, Minji slouched in her chair, her legs casually draped over the side as she twirled a celestial quill between her fingers.

“First rule of angelic virtues,” Y/N began, her voice steady despite her growing frustration, “is selflessness. A true guardian must think of others before themselves.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Minji drawled, inspecting the feathered pen like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“It’s not exhausting—it’s fulfilling,” Y/N shot back, her tone clipped. “It’s the foundation of everything we do as angels.”

Minji tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Let me guess—you were top of your class in angel academy. The kind who turned in assignments early and reminded the teacher about homework, right?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “And proud of it. Those principles are why I’m here to help you.”

Minji let out a low chuckle, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re adorable when you’re annoyed, you know that?”

“I am not—” Y/N started, but Minji raised a hand, cutting her off.

“Relax, angel,” she said, leaning forward with a grin that could melt glaciers. “I’m just saying, maybe you could learn a thing or two from me.”

“From you?” Y/N repeated incredulously, her wings flaring slightly. “Learn what? How to make everything into a joke?”

“Close,” Minji said, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. “How to live a little. Let loose. You angels are so uptight with all your rules and halos.”

“I’m not uptight,” Y/N said defensively.

Minji smirked. “Oh, really? Then prove it.”

Before Y/N could ask what she meant, Minji grabbed a stack of perfectly organized training materials from the table and tossed them into the air. The papers fluttered down like snowflakes, scattering across the room.

“Minji!” Y/N’s voice was sharp, her eyes wide with horror. “What are you doing?!”

“Making things more exciting,” Minji said with an innocent shrug. She picked up one of the papers and held it like a victory flag. “Doesn’t this feel more... free?”

“This is chaos!” Y/N exclaimed, crouching to gather the fallen papers. “And it’s my job to fix it.”

Minji crouched beside her, their shoulders brushing as she reached for a paper. “Maybe that’s your problem, angel. Always trying to fix things. Maybe you should just... let go.”

Y/N paused, her fingers hovering over a page. For a brief moment, the warmth of Minji’s proximity made her thoughts stutter. She glanced sideways and caught Minji watching her with a soft, teasing smile.

“Stop distracting me,” Y/N muttered, looking away quickly.

“Admit it,” Minji said, leaning closer. “You’re having fun.”

“I am not—” Y/N began, but her words faltered as she met Minji’s gaze. There was something disarming about the way Minji looked at her, like she wasn’t just teasing anymore.

“You’ve got that little smile,” Minji pointed out, her own grin widening. “Right there.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she turned her attention back to the papers. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Minji said softly, “you’re still here.”

--

Later, after the mess was cleaned up and Y/N had regained her composure, they moved on to the next lesson.

“Gratitude,” Y/N announced, trying to refocus the session. “It’s about recognizing and appreciating the good in your life.”

“I’m great at that,” Minji said, her grin returning.

Y/N gave her a skeptical look. “Really?”

“Of course.” Minji placed a hand over her heart. “For example, I’m incredibly grateful to have a guardian angel who’s so dedicated. And cute.”

Y/N’s wings twitched. “That’s not—”

“And I’m grateful for this lovely lesson, even if it’s a little... rigid.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. “Gratitude isn’t about flattery, Minji. It’s about genuine appreciation.”

Minji’s smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “You mean like appreciating how hard you’re trying, even when I’m being... well, me?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Minji’s voice. “I—well, yes. That’s... part of it.”

Minji leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “Then I think I’m starting to get it.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. The warmth in Minji’s tone left her feeling strangely unsteady, like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn’t quite see.

“Guess you’re not such a bad teacher after all,” Minji added, her grin returning. “But don’t let it go to your halo.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Minji said, her voice low and teasing.

Despite herself, Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “Heaven help me.”

--

“Remember, this isn’t a vacation,” Y/N said, glancing over her shoulder at Minji.

Minji twirled in place, arms stretched wide, her dark coat billowing like wings. “It’s not? With scenery like this, it might as well be. You sure we’re not on a date, angel?”

Y/N sighed. “We’re here to help humans, not to fool around.”

Minji stopped spinning and grinned. “I don’t know, Y/N. Humans seem pretty good at fooling around. Maybe I’m just fitting in.”

“Minji,” Y/N warned, her tone heavy with exasperation. “Please focus.”

Minji clapped her hands in mock seriousness. “Yes, ma’am. Focused and ready to spread some good vibes.” She paused, then nudged Y/N. “You know, for someone with wings, you sure are grounded.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed patience—heavenly patience—to handle this mission.

--

Their first target presented itself in the form of a woman struggling to carry an armful of groceries while chasing after a particularly sprightly toddler.

“That’s perfect,” Y/N said, pointing. “We’ll help her first. It’s straightforward.”

“Straightforward?” Minji echoed, trailing after Y/N. “Helping someone while they’re also managing a tiny human tornado? Sounds like advanced-level heroics to me.”

Y/N ignored her, stepping up to the woman with a polite smile. “Excuse me, ma’am. Would you like some help with those bags?”

The woman turned, her frazzled expression softening. “Oh, thank you. That would be amazing.”

Y/N took two bags with practiced ease. Minji, eager to participate, reached for another but underestimated its weight.

“Whoa—!” Minji yelped as the bag tipped, spilling its contents across the path. Apples rolled into the grass, a loaf of bread landed in a puddle, and a can of soup wobbled precariously near a storm drain.

“Minji!” Y/N hissed, rushing to gather the scattered items.

“Oops,” Minji said, crouching to help. She grabbed an apple and held it up triumphantly. “At least this one didn’t bruise!”

The woman laughed, clearly amused despite the chaos. “You two are so sweet. Thank you for trying.”

As Y/N handed over the recovered groceries, she shot Minji a pointed look. “Maybe let me handle the heavy lifting next time.”

Minji just shrugged, her grin unrepentant. “Hey, at least I made her laugh. That’s helping, right?”

--

Their next stop was an elderly man sitting on a bench, fumbling with his shoelaces.

“I’ll take this one,” Y/N said firmly.

Minji raised her hands in surrender. “Go for it, angel. I’ll stay right here and admire your handiwork.”

Y/N crouched in front of the man, offering him a gentle smile. “Let me help you with that.”

“Why, thank you, young lady,” the man said, his voice warm and kind.

As Y/N tied the laces with efficient care, she glanced up to see Minji digging through her coat pocket.

“Here,” Minji said, holding out a wrapped candy to the man. “A little treat for your walk.”

The man chuckled, taking the candy with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, isn’t that thoughtful? Thank you, miss.”

Y/N stood, brushing her hands off on her coat. She gave Minji a wary look as they walked away.

“Candy?” Y/N asked.

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts,” Minji said, popping another candy into her own mouth. “Besides, he seemed to like it.”

Y/N sighed, but her annoyance was tempered by the warmth spreading in her chest.

--

The final test came when they stumbled upon a group of children gathered around a tree, pointing up at a small, frightened cat perched on a high branch.

“Oh no,” Y/N murmured.

“This is my moment,” Minji declared, already marching toward the tree.

“Minji, wait—”

But Minji didn’t wait. She grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted herself up, her movements surprisingly agile for someone so prone to tripping over her own feet.

“Hey there, kitty,” Minji cooed as she climbed higher. “Don’t worry, I’m here to save you.”

The cat hissed, its ears flattening.

“Be careful!” Y/N called, her wings twitching instinctively under her coat.

Minji waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, I’ve got—”

The branch beneath her foot cracked ominously.

“Minji!” Y/N shouted, her heart leaping into her throat.

“I’m fine!” Minji called back, her voice slightly less confident. She reached for the cat, managing to scoop it into her arms. “See? Easy—”

The cat swiped at her face, yowling loudly. Minji yelped, losing her balance. She slid down the trunk in a flurry of leaves and landed in an ungraceful heap at the base of the tree.

The children gasped. Y/N rushed forward, kneeling beside Minji. “Are you okay?!”

“Ta-da!” Minji said weakly, holding up the now calm cat.

The children cheered, running forward to take the cat from her. “Thank you, lady!”

Y/N stared at Minji, torn between exasperation and something softer, something warmer. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, helping Minji to her feet.

“And you love it,” Minji said with a wink, brushing leaves out of her hair.

--

By the time the sun began to set, the park was quiet, and Y/N and Minji found themselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond.

“You’re impossible,” Y/N said, though there was no real heat in her voice.

“And yet, here you are,” Minji said, leaning back and stretching her arms over the back of the bench.

Y/N glanced at her, the golden light of the setting sun catching in Minji’s eyes. She looked so out of place, yet somehow perfectly at home.

“Today wasn’t a total disaster,” Y/N admitted.

Minji gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Was that... a compliment? From my angelic mentor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“No promises,” Minji said, her grin softening into something genuine. “Thanks for letting me tag along today. I mean it.”

Y/N’s heart did a little flip at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. She looked away, focusing on the rippling water. “You’re welcome. Just... maybe next time, try not to climb any trees.”

Minji laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Deal.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the world around them bathed in warm hues of orange and pink. Y/N felt something shift—something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

But as Minji leaned closer, nudging her shoulder playfully, Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this demon wasn’t so bad after all.

--

Minji’s lair, a surprisingly cozy space lit by warm, flickering candles. Plush cushions and quirky trinkets fill the room, making it feel more like an artist’s studio than a demon’s lair. Y/N sits on a velvety armchair, scribbling notes in her celestial journal. Minji lounges nearby, her legs dangling off the side of a sofa, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Hey, angel,” Minji said lazily, propping her chin on her hand as she rolled onto her side. “What’s got you so focused over there? Writing a love letter to the Big Guy upstairs?”

Y/N didn’t bother looking up from her journal, her pen scratching purposefully against the page. “I’m writing down all the ways you’ve tested my patience today.”

Minji let out a melodramatic gasp, clutching at her chest. “That many, huh? And here I thought I was being charming.”

“You’re something, alright,” Y/N muttered, glancing up to narrow her eyes at the demon.

Minji grinned, her sharp canines peeking out. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re no fun when you’re all work and no play.” She paused, her eyes glinting with a sudden idea. “Speaking of play... you haven’t noticed anything missing, have you?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Missing?”

“Mm-hmm.” Minji sat up, looking far too pleased with herself.

Y/N hesitated, her hand unconsciously reaching up to the space above her head. Her fingers touched empty air.

Her heart sank.

“Minji,” she said slowly, her tone dangerously low. “Where is my halo?”

Minji’s expression teetered between guilt and amusement. “Oh, that? It’s safe! I promise!”

“Safe?” Y/N’s voice pitched upward as she stood abruptly, her journal falling forgotten onto the chair. “Where is it, Minji?!”

The demon tried to wave her off, but Y/N was already scanning the room, her sharp gaze darting from corner to corner. “I swear, if you’ve done anything to—”

“I hid it,” Minji blurted out, holding up her hands. “But only as a joke!”

“A joke?!” Y/N’s wings flared slightly, their usual ethereal shimmer pulsing with irritation. “Do you even understand how sacred a halo is?”

“I... uh...” Minji rubbed the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “No?”

Y/N groaned, pacing the room. “It’s not just some shiny accessory, Minji! It’s—ugh!” She spun to face the demon, her eyes blazing. “Where. Is. It?”

Minji flinched under the intensity of Y/N’s glare but quickly scrambled to her feet. “Relax, angel. It’s right here!”

She darted over to a cabinet, pulling open a drawer and retrieving the halo. It shimmered faintly in her hands, casting a warm golden glow over her sheepish face.

“See?” Minji said, holding it out like a peace offering. “Perfectly fine. No scratches or anything.”

Y/N snatched the halo from her hands, cradling it protectively. The moment it touched her fingers, she felt its reassuring warmth seep into her skin, calming the storm in her chest.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, her wings drooping slightly as the adrenaline left her.

“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Minji offered, her voice unusually soft.

Y/N glared at her, but there was less heat in her eyes now. “You don’t get it, do you? This halo isn’t just a symbol. It’s part of me. Tampering with it is like...” She paused, searching for the right analogy. “It’s like me messing with your... your horns or something.”

Minji tilted her head. “I don’t have horns.”

“That’s not the point!”

Minji’s shoulders slumped, her usual confidence dimmed. “I really didn’t mean to upset you, Y/N. I just thought it’d be funny. You know, lighten the mood.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Y/N said sharply, though her tone softened when she saw the genuine remorse in Minji’s eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The golden light of the halo cast their faces in warm hues, accentuating the raw emotions lingering between them.

Finally, Minji broke the silence. “You’re right,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t get it. I don’t get a lot of things about you... or this whole guardian angel thing.” She gestured vaguely between them. “But I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in Minji’s voice. She watched as the demon ran a hand through her dark hair, her usual mischievous energy replaced by something quieter, more uncertain.

“I’ve spent centuries being good at one thing—causing trouble,” Minji continued, her voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s easy. It’s what I’m supposed to do. But this? Trying to be better? Trying to be someone worthy of a guardian angel?” She shook her head. “It’s terrifying. And I guess... I use jokes to cover that up.”

Y/N felt her heart soften, her earlier anger dissipating like mist in the sunlight. “Minji,” she said gently, stepping closer.

The demon glanced up, her dark eyes filled with an uncertainty Y/N had never seen before.

“You’re not a failure,” Y/N said firmly. “The fact that you care enough to even try says more about you than you realize.”

Minji let out a soft laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “You’re way too nice to me, angel.”

“Someone has to be,” Y/N replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

They stood there for a moment, the tension in the room shifting into something lighter, warmer.

“You know,” Minji said, her usual playfulness creeping back into her tone, “if you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you like me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that followed. “Don’t push your luck.”

Minji grinned, her confidence returning in full force. “Noted. But I’m still counting this as a win.”

“Of course you are,” Y/N muttered, though her tone was more fond than annoyed.

As Minji flopped back onto the rug with an exaggerated sigh of relief, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a small spark of hope. For all her flaws, Minji was trying—and maybe, just maybe, they were both learning something from each other along the way.

--

Y/N: “Alright, Minji. We’re starting simple. Hand this bread to that old woman. It’s an act of kindness. Easy, right?”

Minji: grinning “Piece of cake!”

Minji confidently strides toward the woman but trips on her own shoelaces. The bread flies out of her hand, soars through the air, and lands directly on a pigeon, sending feathers flying.

Old Woman: shocked “Good heavens!”

Minji: holding up her hands “I-I can explain! It’s… artisanal pigeon bread?”

Y/N: facepalms “We’re off to a great start.”

Minji turns back with a sheepish smile, while the old woman cautiously retrieves the bread and pats the dazed pigeon.

--

The celestial garden was tranquil, a lush expanse of flowers in shades of soft pink, lavender, and white. The air felt like it was laced with magic, as though the very atmosphere itself was imbued with a sense of peace. There were flowers that bloomed with each step, a testament to the care the celestial beings had for this space. Birds with iridescent feathers flitted through the trees, singing melodies that resonated with the purest notes of heaven.

But despite the serene beauty of it all, Minji was nowhere near as calm as the surroundings. Her shoulders were tense, and she had been pacing for the past several minutes, her footsteps light on the soft grass but full of restlessness.

Y/N watched her from a distance, her hands clasped behind her back, her gaze soft but observing. Minji’s usual playful demeanor was absent, replaced with a kind of anxiety that Y/N wasn’t used to seeing.

“Minji,” Y/N called out, her voice carrying through the quiet garden. “Are you alright?”

Minji froze mid-step, glancing over her shoulder to meet Y/N’s eyes. The playful, mischievous spark that usually danced in her gaze was dimmer, replaced by something Y/N couldn’t quite place. She straightened up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” Minji replied, though her voice sounded strained. “Just thinking.”

Y/N frowned, stepping closer. “You’ve been thinking for a while now. What’s going on?”

Minji turned away slightly, looking down at her shoes, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There was a discomfort in her posture that made Y/N’s heart twinge.

“I… I’ve been thinking about this whole ‘trying to be good’ thing,” Minji admitted, her voice quiet. “I know I’m supposed to be working toward becoming a better demon so I can go to Heaven, but it feels like… like I’m just not good enough. You know?”

Y/N’s heart ached at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. For all the jokes and playful teasing, Minji was still a demon, and demons were supposed to be bad. But Minji wasn’t like that. She was far from it.

“Minji,” Y/N said softly, walking up to her and gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect. You’re already more than enough just as you are.”

Minji blinked at her, the vulnerability in her eyes surprising Y/N. The words seemed to hit her harder than expected, and for a moment, she seemed unsure of how to respond.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Minji said quietly, her voice breaking just slightly. “But sometimes… I just wish I could be more than what I am. More than just a demon.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at the admission. She had known Minji was struggling, but hearing her admit it out loud made it all feel so much more real. The weight of the situation was sinking in, and Y/N wasn’t sure how to ease it.

“You’re already more than a demon, Minji,” Y/N said, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re kind, you’re sweet, and you have so much to offer. You just… you just don’t see it.”

Minji let out a breath, glancing away as she bit her lip. “It’s hard to believe that when all I’ve ever been told is that demons are supposed to be bad. It’s hard to believe that when I can’t even seem to get anything right.”

Y/N frowned, her hand still on Minji’s shoulder. She gently squeezed it, trying to offer comfort. “That’s because you’ve been listening to the wrong people.”

Minji looked up at Y/N, confusion written on her face. “The wrong people?”

Y/N nodded, smiling softly. “You’ve been listening to the voices that tell you you’re not good enough. But the truth is, you’ve always been good enough. You just have to believe it yourself.”

Minji stared at her, blinking slowly as the words sunk in. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. For a long moment, they just stood there, the weight of their conversation settling over them like a warm, invisible blanket.

Y/N didn’t know what else to say, but she didn’t need to. The silence between them was comforting, as if they both understood without having to explain it all.

Finally, Minji broke the silence, her voice small but sincere. “I’m really trying, Y/N. I want to be better. I want to be… I don’t know… worthy of something.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She could feel the sincerity in Minji’s words, the vulnerability that Minji rarely showed. It wasn’t easy for her to admit these things, and Y/N felt honored that she had.

“You are worthy, Minji,” Y/N said, her voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You just need to be you.”

Minji’s eyes softened as she looked at Y/N, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Y/N replied without hesitation.

Minji’s expression shifted, something warm and tender flickering in her eyes. “You’re the first person who’s ever told me that. Maybe I can believe you, just this once.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at the sincerity in Minji’s voice. She hadn’t realized how much Minji needed someone to see her for who she truly was, not just as a demon or a failure, but as a person.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with something unspoken. The warmth in Minji’s gaze made Y/N’s chest tighten, and for a fleeting second, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was starting to feel something more for this clumsy, sweet demon who had wormed her way so deep into her heart.

Minji’s lips parted as if she were about to say something, but then she hesitated, glancing away nervously. “I, uh… I just… I’m really glad I met you, Y/N.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding in her chest. “I’m glad I met you too.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Minji’s lips quirked into a playful grin. “So, does this mean you’ll finally admit I’m the best demon you’ve ever had?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at her persistence, the tension between them momentarily lifting. “You’re getting there, Minji. But I’ll need a bit more convincing.”

Minji’s grin grew wider, and Y/N could see that playful spark returning to her eyes. “I can work with that.”

Y/N laughed softly, but the warmth in her heart remained, a quiet reminder that she was beginning to care for this sweet, imperfect demon in ways she hadn’t expected.

And for the first time, she felt a little less like an angel tasked with saving someone and a little more like someone who might just be falling for a demon who was trying to find her way.

--

Y/N: “Alright, Minji, this is simple. We’re just going to help that little kid with his lemonade stand.”

Minji: grinning “Got it. I’m a professional.”

Minji, in her excitement, lunges forward—only to knock over the entire lemonade stand, sending cups and lemons flying everywhere. The kid stares at her, wide-eyed, as Minji awkwardly picks up a cup, trying to salvage the situation.

Minji: blushing “Um, it’s... uh... It's the thought that counts, right?”

Y/N: facepalming “I can’t even. Just, let’s go before we cause a lemonade disaster of biblical proportions.”

--

The human realm’s sky was a canvas of brilliant oranges and pinks, the sun dipping lower with every passing second, casting a warm glow across the meadow. Y/N found herself still standing beside Minji, her gaze lingering on the horizon, lost in the beauty of the scene. It wasn’t often she had the luxury of these quiet moments, especially not with a demon.

Minji, however, seemed more fascinated by the reflections in the sky than the tranquil scene itself. She stood with her arms crossed, her usual playful grin on her face, as though the sunset was just another background for the ongoing banter.

“So,” Minji finally spoke, breaking the silence with a lilt in her voice. “You like sunsets, huh?”

Y/N looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you got out of all of this? Not the philosophical contemplation of life or the beauty of nature?”

Minji shrugged, her smile widening. “I’m a simple demon. I see a pretty view, and I think—‘Hey, nice view.’”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “That’s one way to put it.” She turned her attention back to the sunset. “I guess I do like sunsets. They remind me that even after the toughest days, the world still turns, and there’s always something beautiful to look forward to.”

Minji turned to her, eyes glinting with mischief. “A little poetic, huh? I didn’t know I was assigned to an angel with such a soft side.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm slightly, and she shot Minji a glance. “What about you, Minji? What do you think about sunsets?”

Minji leaned back slightly, contemplating the question with a furrowed brow. “Honestly? I think it’s the best time to sneak into a party.”

Y/N blinked, confused. “A party?”

Minji gave a teasing smile. “Duh. The sun’s setting, it’s cooler, and you can sneak in unnoticed. That’s like, demon 101.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at her absurd logic. “I don’t think that’s what sunsets are about, but okay.”

Minji smiled slyly. “Well, I’m all about the chaos, you know? I think life’s more fun when it’s unpredictable. You should try it.”

Y/N shook her head, her eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “I don’t know if I want to try your version of chaos.”

“Oh, come on. Just a little fun never hurt anyone.” Minji’s voice softened as she looked out at the sky again. “Maybe you could loosen up a bit. Life doesn’t always have to be so serious.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not that serious.”

Minji raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling upward. “No? I don’t know, you’ve got this whole angel thing going on. It’s kinda hard to imagine you cutting loose.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Minji continued with an unexpected sincerity. “But I guess I do get why you like sunsets.”

Y/N paused, looking at Minji. “You do?”

Minji nodded, her eyes flickering over to meet Y/N’s. “Yeah. I think they remind me of... new beginnings, or something. The day ends, and even though it’s kind of sad, you know there’s always tomorrow. It’s like, a reset button.”

Y/N was surprised by how deeply Minji spoke, her usual playful demeanor giving way to something more thoughtful. “That’s... a nice way to think about it.”

Minji shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m full of surprises.”

Before Y/N could respond, Minji’s voice lightened again, shifting the mood. “But I’ve gotta admit—if I was assigned an angel like you, I’d be pretty intimidated.”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Why?”

Minji grinned. “Well, you’re all virtuous and perfect, and I’m, you know, a mess.” She gestured vaguely to herself, as though the idea of her being a demon was self-evident.

Y/N laughed, unable to suppress it. “You’re not a mess, Minji.”

Minji smiled at her warmly. “You know, you’re probably one of the nicest angels I’ve met. But I think... I think I want to do more than just be nice. I want to be something more, Y/N.”

Y/N blinked, sensing the deeper undercurrent of what Minji was saying. “What do you mean by that?”

Minji hesitated, her voice quieter now. “I guess I want to show you that I can be good. That I’m more than just a demon, that I’m worthy of—” She cut herself off, not finishing the thought.

Y/N felt a tug in her chest at the vulnerability in Minji’s words. She stepped closer, her voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Minji. I’m here to help you, no matter what.”

Minji’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them stilled. “I know, but... I want to be better for you. And for myself.”

Y/N’s heart raced at the sincerity in Minji’s eyes. She didn’t expect this conversation to take this turn, but there it was—Minji, the demon who had been nothing but playful and mischievous, showing a side of herself that was raw and real.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the words hanging in the air.

Finally, Minji broke the silence with a mischievous smile. “Well, enough of all that deep stuff. I’ve got something to show you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Minji pointed toward a nearby bench where an elderly woman had just dropped her purse. “Watch this.”

With a dramatic flourish, Minji strutted toward the bench with purpose, ready to help. But as she reached for the purse, her foot caught on the edge of the bench, and she toppled forward, knocking the purse even further away.

Y/N couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed, as Minji scrambled to pick up the purse, all the while giving Y/N a sheepish smile.

“I swear, I’m getting better at this,” Minji said, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N crossed her arms, smirking. “If this is your idea of helping, I think we need a new plan.”

Minji stuck out her tongue, playfully unbothered by the failed attempt. “Hey, at least I tried.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t deny how endearing Minji’s clumsiness was. There was something about her sincerity, even in the face of failure, that made Y/N’s heart soften.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you handle the helping part,” Y/N teased, her voice laced with affection.

Minji looked at her with a mischievous grin. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we both know who’s actually in charge here.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

Minji winked, stepping closer. “Yeah. But hey, let’s see who can be better at helping next time.”

Y/N shook her head, unable to hide her smile. “You’re impossible.”

Minji’s gaze softened, and she took a small step closer. “But you like it.”

And for the first time, Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to deny it.

--

Y/N: looking exasperated “Okay, Minji. The goal here is simple: just get the coffee order right. We’re helping someone, remember?”

Minji: enthusiastically “Got it. I’m a professional!”

Minji confidently strides over to the counter, only to slip on a spilled coffee bean, sending an entire tray of drinks flying. She spins around, eyes wide in disbelief.

Minji: “Well... uh, I still got the coffee to them, right?”

Y/N: facepalming “Minji, what is happening?!”

Minji: grinning sheepishly “Hey, I’m learning, okay?”

Y/N: laughing despite herself “I think we need a new approach. Fast.”

--

The celestial courtroom shimmered with ethereal light, the walls made of translucent crystal that refracted rainbows across the grand space. Y/N stood beside Minji, her usually composed demeanor fraying at the edges. She clasped her hands tightly, resisting the urge to reach out and give Minji’s arm a reassuring squeeze. After all, this was Minji’s moment to prove herself—not hers.

Minji, on the other hand, looked... well, like Minji. She shifted on her feet, her trademark grin masking the nervous energy practically radiating off her. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her jacket as if she were trying to channel her jitters into motion.

“Kim Minji,” Seraphiel called out, his voice resonating like a choir of bells. The head angel’s towering presence dominated the room, his six majestic wings folded neatly behind him. “You stand before us today to demonstrate what you have learned. Your task is not to impress us but to act with true kindness and compassion. Do you understand the gravity of this moment?”

Minji swallowed audibly, nodding. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” Seraphiel said, gesturing with one glowing hand. “Your trial begins now.”

The crystalline floor rippled like water, and the courtroom dissolved into a new scene: a quiet park in the human realm. Birds chirped in the trees, and the scent of blooming flowers hung in the air. On a bench sat an older woman, her posture heavy with sorrow. She clutched a small bouquet of daisies in her hands, her knuckles white against the stems.

Minji glanced at Y/N, her playful bravado slipping as genuine uncertainty crept into her expression. “What do I do?” she whispered.

Y/N tilted her head toward the woman, her tone soft but firm. “You listen. You help her, Minji. And this time, don’t think about how you look or what you’re supposed to say. Just... be there for her.”

Minji nodded, taking a deep breath before approaching the woman. She hesitated for a moment, then lowered herself onto the bench, leaving a respectful amount of space between them.

“Hi,” Minji said, her voice unusually gentle. “Are you okay?”

The woman looked up, startled by the interruption. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face lined with grief. “Oh,” she murmured, blinking at Minji. “I’m fine, dear. Just... remembering someone.”

Minji’s brow furrowed. She glanced down at the daisies, then back at the woman. “Someone important?”

The woman nodded, her lips trembling. “My son. He... he passed away a few years ago. Today’s his birthday, and I always bring him flowers.”

Minji felt a lump rise in her throat. She looked down at her hands, unsure of what to say. She had faced countless situations in her demonic existence—trickery, chaos, even outright danger—but nothing had prepared her for this.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

The woman’s gaze softened, though her sadness remained. “It’s kind of you to say that, but it’s okay. It’s been a while. I just... miss him, you know?”

Minji nodded slowly, her usual wit and humor nowhere to be found. “Yeah. I get it.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone, but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough. Like you’re just... stuck with all these feelings, and you don’t know what to do with them.”

The woman’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from sorrow to understanding. “That’s... that’s exactly it,” she said softly.

Minji bit her lip, her usual confidence completely replaced by vulnerability. She reached out, her hand hovering awkwardly before resting lightly on the woman’s arm. “I know I can’t make it better,” she said, her voice trembling. “But maybe you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Even if it’s just for a little while, maybe someone else can help.”

The woman’s eyes filled with tears, but this time, they weren’t just tears of grief. She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her sadness. “Thank you, dear. That means more than you know.”

From her vantage point, Y/N felt a surge of pride so intense it made her chest ache. Minji wasn’t just fumbling her way through this trial—she was truly connecting with someone, showing a depth of compassion that even Y/N hadn’t fully expected.

As the scene began to dissolve, returning them to the celestial courtroom, Minji turned to the woman one last time. “Happy birthday to your son,” she said softly.

The woman’s smile widened, and then she was gone, the trial complete.

--

Back in the courtroom, Seraphiel rose from his seat, his expression unreadable. “Minji,” he said, his voice resonating through the space. “You have shown not only kindness but also vulnerability—a willingness to meet someone where they are, even when it is uncomfortable. You have passed this trial.”

Minji blinked, her mouth falling open slightly. “Wait... I did? I passed?”

Y/N laughed softly, stepping forward to stand beside her. “Yes, you passed, you ridiculous demon.”

A grin broke across Minji’s face, the tension in her shoulders melting away. “I knew I could do it,” she said, though the lingering disbelief in her tone betrayed her.

Seraphiel nodded once, his stern expression softening just enough to be noticeable. “You have a long way to go, but this is a promising start. Continue on this path, and you may surprise even yourself.”

As the courtroom dissolved, leaving Minji and Y/N alone in a quiet celestial hallway, Minji turned to her angelic companion, her grin now tinged with something softer.

“You were watching me the whole time,” she said, her tone teasing but her eyes warm.

“Of course I was,” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m your guardian angel. It’s literally my job.”

Minji stepped closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Maybe. Or maybe you just couldn’t look away because you think I’m amazing.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she refused to give Minji the satisfaction of a flustered reaction. “Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though her small smile betrayed her.

Minji chuckled, the sound light and carefree. “You like me, admit it.”

Y/N sighed, her smile widening despite herself. “Maybe a little,” she admitted.

Minji’s grin grew, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged with something unspoken. But then Minji pulled back, her expression shifting to something more genuine.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said softly. “For believing in me.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. “Always, Minji.”

--

Y/N: handing Minji a bag of dog treats “Okay, this one is easy. Just feed the puppies and make them happy. No tricks, no chaos.”

Minji: grinning “Puppies? Piece of cake!”

Minji kneels down and starts handing out treats, but one overly enthusiastic dog jumps on her, sending the bag flying into a nearby fountain. Chaos ensues as dozens of dogs dive into the water, barking and splashing everywhere.

Y/N: facepalming “Minji! How do you even manage this?”

Minji: shrugging sheepishly, now drenched and surrounded by soggy dogs “At least they’re having fun?”

--

The celestial bridge sparkled with an ethereal glow, its silvery surface shimmering as Minji took her first steps onto it. Above her head hovered the faint outline of a glowing halo—a symbol of her achievement and transformation. Around her, angels and celestial beings clapped politely, their approving murmurs echoing through the boundless expanse of stars.

Y/N stood off to the side, her wings glowing faintly with pride and relief. She had watched Minji grow from a bumbling, mischievous demon into someone who had not only embraced kindness but had become an embodiment of it. The sight of Minji, radiant with her new halo, made Y/N’s chest swell with a warmth she couldn’t deny any longer.

As the ceremony concluded, Minji walked over to Y/N, her familiar playful grin firmly in place despite the solemnity of the event. “So,” Minji said, tilting her head up to indicate the halo, “how do I look? Angelic enough for you?”

Y/N snorted softly, shaking her head. “You’re still you, Minji. Halo or not.”

Minji’s grin widened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Come on,” Y/N said, motioning toward a shimmering portal that led to the Garden of Eden. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Minji followed without hesitation, her wings fluttering slightly with each step. As they passed through the portal, the lush expanse of the Garden came into view. Vibrant flowers bloomed in every imaginable color, their petals shimmering like jewels. A soft, golden light bathed the landscape, and the gentle hum of celestial energy filled the air.

Minji’s eyes widened in wonder. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

Y/N led her to a quiet corner of the Garden, where a small stream trickled through a bed of glowing moss. They sat down together on a stone bench, the silence between them comfortable but charged with unspoken emotions.

“Minji,” Y/N began, her voice unusually soft. She stared down at her hands, unsure how to begin.

Minji tilted her head, her playful smile fading as she noticed Y/N’s serious expression. “Hey,” she said gently. “What’s on your mind?”

Y/N hesitated, then looked up to meet Minji’s gaze. “You’ve come so far. Watching you grow, seeing the way you’ve embraced kindness—it’s been incredible. But that’s not all.” She took a deep breath, her wings shifting slightly as if to steady herself. “Somewhere along the way, I realized that I... care about you. A lot more than I’m supposed to.”

Minji’s eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting in surprise. “Y/N...”

“I know it’s not exactly in the rulebook,” Y/N continued, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “But I can’t pretend anymore. You mean so much to me, Minji. More than I ever thought possible.”

For a moment, Minji was silent, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—a smile so warm and genuine that it made Y/N’s heart ache.

“Y/N,” Minji said softly, her voice almost reverent. “I’ve wanted to hear those words since the day we met.”

Y/N blinked, her blush deepening. “Wait, really?”

Minji laughed, the sound bright and melodic. “Of course. Do you know how hard it was not to flirt with you every second of the day? Well, harder than I already did, anyway.”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Minji’s smile softened, and she reached out to take Y/N’s hands in her own. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time. You’ve seen the best and worst of me, and you’ve never given up on me. How could I not fall for you?”

Y/N’s heart raced as Minji leaned in closer, her wings unfurling slightly behind her. Their faces were just inches apart, the golden light of the Garden casting a soft glow over their features.

“May I?” Minji asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching.

Minji closed the distance between them, her lips brushing against Y/N’s in a kiss that was tender and electrifying all at once. Y/N melted into the moment, her wings unfurling fully as a sense of completeness washed over her.

When they finally pulled apart, Minji rested her forehead against Y/N’s, her smile radiant. “So... does this mean I’m officially your favorite assignment?”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Don’t push it.”

--

Minji: holding Y/N’s hands dramatically “Y/N, will you do me the honor of being my one and only angel?”

Y/N: deadpan “Minji, we’ve literally been dating for two minutes.”

Minji: grinning “And they’ve been the best two minutes of my life.”

Y/N: groaning “You’re insufferable.”

Minji: winking “But you love me.”

Y/N: sighing but smiling “Yeah, I do.”

[lastweeksshirttonight]

Hey uh remember when I did retrospectives of Last Week Tonight episodes? Let's bring it back to 140.

Last Lee Tonight (wherein I'm definitely showing United Passions at my next bad movie night) Season One, Episode Six

(original air date: 6/8/2014) Major topics covered: FIFA, Bashar al-Assad's incredible iTunes library

"And speaking of Germans losing things, it was the 70th anniversary of D-Day this week."

It's really nice to throw this show back on again, on a note unrelated to the purpose of this project. I don't talk much about myself but it's been a rough few months with work scheduling, my chronic illnesses, and my mental health. For every "I'm taking a very spontaneous and ill-thought-out trip to New York to see John Oliver WOOO!" moment, there's been at least five "why can't I catch a break"s. When I'm not being beaten down by the collective forces of capitalism, I genuinely haven't been watching much John at all, mainly in an effort to play the large backlog of video games and read the large pile of books lying around my house. I've been moderately successful there (hey y'all should give Cassette Beasts a go, it's delightful), but there's nothing like going back home, so to speak. (I hesitate to call LWT a comfort show for me, given that it's basically A Record of the Decline of the United States in Real Time, but it kinda serves that function to some degree. I am a psychopath.)

Where we last left off in... May, Jesus Christ, I'm so bad at scheduling and writing and content creation - when we last left off in May at Episode 5, things were finally starting to coalesce into the modern LWT experience. We had our first viral segment on Net Neutrality, the first time a segment was uploaded in full to the LWT YouTube, and an opening news roundup that was starting to feel more thoughtful and themed. This episode continues that theme and gives us our second big viral topic.

There is a variant on the desk-slapping here, where John doesn't do it to open the show, but does a milder version of it to get the audience to shut up so he can move on with doing the show. One of my favorite things about him is his constant desire to barrel through clapping or any audience praise of anything he's done at a given moment in time and this opener is a pretty good example of that.

We open on John calling the week disappointing because California Chrome, a horse competing for the Triple Crown, did not win the Triple Crown. You can tell this is an early episode of LWT because there is no prerequisite horse-fucking/bestiality joke, just John angrily saying "fuck that horse" about Tonalist, the horse that defeated California Chrome. All of these horses sound like indie bands from my college years. I feel like Tonalist opened when I saw MGMT live.

We then move into German Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. This gives John an opportunity to plumb one of his favorite comedic depths, making fun of the musicality, smoothness, and romanticism of the German language. A German man used his lifeline to call Chancellor Merkle, who, thankfully, did not answer, as she was busy running Germany.

This transitions into China hiding the events of Tiananmen Square from their populace, including by censoring the Internet.

Attempts by protestors to use different trending words - and to put facts about Tiananmen Square in a sex tape - to get around that were also clamped down on, leading to this absolutely glorious screenshot of John's hypothetical romance novel:

I feel like someone on Reddit probably wrote When Spring Turns to Summer recently.

We also learn that Friends is incredibly popular with Chinese youth. I'm not really shocked by this, Friends has a weird international reach. I know multiple Korean idols who learned English partially through watching Friends. The fact that there's a Chinese replica of Central Perk? That's wild. The show edits a Friends clip to include historical facts about the massacre, and then we move to our central story.

I'm a big fan of whenever John talks about FIFA and football in general. Recently in one of her "posts relevant to my interests", @tellthemeerkatsitsfine noted that there's a strain with John and his contemporaries with them being nerds who really wanted to be jocks, and I think that dichotomy really helps John come off credibly when he talks about the deep-rooted corruption in this particular organization. The sport is something that is literally rooted into him, hardwired as something he deeply cares about... but there's the rest of it to consider.

In my opinion, someone who deeply loves something can really be the best at describing everything wrong with it. You don't really find the grime if you're only on the surface of something. I know that critical observation of a fandom while in said fandom is in short supply these days, but I wish it was more common.

Anyways. I think FIFA's corruption and grotesqueries are pretty known in 2023, but at the time, knowledge of their fuckery wasn't as widespread. Socially, we've definitely spoken a lot more about the cost-benefit analysis of the Olympics and taxpayer-funded stadiums, which is comparative to John's opening about the issues with FIFA and claims that World Cups bring money to the areas hosting them. (Not true!) Other items I'd completely forgotten about, like FIFA Court and their boardroom looking like something out of Dr. Strangelove.

The "And Now This" is "Chris Matthews Reminds Everyone Who He Used to Work For". (Answer: Tip O'Neill.) My abiding memory of Chris Matthews is Zell Miller accusing him of beating a woman and challenging him to a duel at the 2004 Republican National Convention.

SNL had a pretty great sketch of this where Will Forte played Miller that I can't find right now. PISTOLS AT DAAAAAAAAWN MATTHEWS!!!!

The final segment is on Bashar al-Assad's campaign of terror against Syria, rigged electioneering, and chemical warfare. More importantly, al-Assad's life history and iTunes library are discussed.

This was also the subject of the classic Bugle episode 187, which has a chance to go far more in depth about his favorite music, like "Sexy and I Know It". (Andy Zaltzman describing Lil Wayne and Busta Rhymes as a doubles tennis group is one of my favorite Bugle moments of all time incidentally.)

Right Said Fred coming out to perform an anti-Assad version of "I'm Too Sexy" gives us the first time John has had a celebrity come out basically to troll one single person, and thus almost the cornerstones of modern LWT have been established. Eagerly awaiting the first bestiality joke. Also, really love the changed lyrics, they put a hell of a lot of effort into this one. I wanna see Right Said Fred live now.

Random notes:

Lee will continue sexualizing one (1) older man damn it: light blue and dark blue checked shirt, black tie, and black jacket? I know I've said red is John's color but light blue is a very close second, 10/10

I feel like I made up for not doing these for two months by writing about five year's worth of unnecessary analysis of this damn episode. Hopefully you enjoyed it!

It was amazing seeing an ESPN ad for something not handegg-related. -groan-

LWT YouTube is still a bit confused, as we did get the two major topics as their own videos... and then 1 minute of the FIFA section as its own minisode. I really would love to know the logic behind why there specific jokes were isolated like this in the beginning of the show's airing.

My sausage, if anyone cares, is the Korean idol industry. It's an absolute cataclysmic nightmare and yet there's a lot there personally that changed me and a lot that I love out of it. It's complicated. Fuck SM Entertainment.

A reminder that John's LMFAO fandom has endured for a decade longer than the band itself lasted:

[anniebibananie]

mcu au 🎬 sam & bucky co-stars au     ↳ happy birthday grace (@rocketnebulas) sweet girl ↳sambucky au week day 7 :: free choice

“We just have to get through one more fucking movie, Barnes. Can you keep your shit together until then?” Sam followed the words with a drink from his coffee, scanning the set to see if they were needed yet. Nope, still setting up the shot.  He looked back to Bucky, whose expression had morphed from usual scowl to seconds from murdering you scowl. Then something miraculous happened because that scowl melted into what could almost be called a smile as Bucky shook his head, looking away.  “My shit is perfectly in tact.” Bucky’s eyes landed on Sam, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he just stared at him. Sam hated how he did that. That all-encompassing look, so singularly focused, often impossible to read. It was so fucking annoying. It was also why Bucky was so fucking good at what he did—able to convey so much in those eyes and on that face. And why their press circuit usually involved questions like There’s a lot of tension between your two characters, which has the fans wondering… what exactly is their future together?  Sam wasn’t going to miss the interviews, the two of them sitting next to each other and throwing insults back and forth that got turned into online listicles about their endearing friendship (or more!).  Because the truth was they hated each other. They’d hated each other since their first chemistry read. They’d hated each other throughout the entirety of the second film when on the first day Bucky had eaten the last everything bagel from craft services despite hearing Sam say it was all he was craving. They’d hated each other during stunt rehearsals and running lines and standing on set together between takes.  They hated each other. Period.  “You’re gonna miss me, Wilson,” Bucky said, that slow creeping smile that was more of a smirk, the way he delighted at seeing Sam get riled up. “Just admit it.”  “Barnes.” Sam reached out a hand and clapped Bucky’s shoulder, giving him his best you’re an idiot look. “Have you ever considered that you’re gonna be the one missing me?”  Bucky tilted his head, a mischievous amusement perking up on his face, and there was something so fucking genuine about the curve of his lips as he said, “Of course. I never said I wouldn’t.”  Then someone’s calling them onto set, and Bucky’s walking away like it’s nothing, like Sam’s not reeling in the wake of those words.  They hated each other: that was the one thing Sam knew with utmost certainty.  But now? Now he’s not so sure. 

📽 Bucky and Sam have been leading the popular Winter Falcon trilogy for years, and they’ve tolerated each other through it all… barely. They’re not friends. They’re coworkers at best, and begrudging ones at that. But now that the series is about to come to an end, something feels like it’s shifting. Sam’s not sure how he feels about it. Or, maybe, more aptly… he’s not sure why he likes how it’s shifting so goddamn much.

[spilledkauffie]

Sex With Loki · NSFW HCs

*xFemale!Reader || Oof, swoons ❤︎

Loves foreplay! Loki will spend a painful amount of time teasing you with words, looks, touches, etc. He likes it when you get impatient and start giving him threats, “Loki I swear, if my lips aren’t tasting yours in 5 seconds-” you’ll say. He’ll only amuse himself further, brushing his lips against yours before whispering “you swear what?”

He’s so handsy it’s not even funny, he wants as much skin to skin contact as possible. It’s not long before his hand is under your clothes, or trying to take them off you. Even during sex, he has to be squeezing, gripping, stroking, some part of you.

Though he can be quite dominant, it’s a turn on when you make the first move after all his teasing. Loki loves to see you hot and bothered, showing him just how much you want him. Sometimes if you’re really eager, slipping your hand up his thigh to palm him, he’ll chuckle at you, somehow remaining cool and collected saying: “so desperate, are we?”

He definitely has a begging kink, but he didn’t outright tell you. You found out when you were trying to see how far you could push him before finally giving in to you. Giving him a little dry sex teasing, grinding down on his lap you began to beg for what you wanted; almost instantly he gripped the back of your thighs, tossed his head back and gave a staggering, “fuck.” 

↳ you perked an eyebrow, gave your best bambi eyes and really sold the begging with “please,” and “I need,” and “only you can give-” swiftly feeling his cock hard against you through the fabrics between the two of you.

Choking, receiving. Loki absolutely adores it when you have your “pretty little fingers” wrapped around his neck while you’re riding him. He especially loves when you’re close to your orgasm; he can feel you dig your nails into the sides of his neck, your thumbs shaking as you press them against the base of his neck.

↳ he only encourages this by gripping your hips meanly, whispering a semi-demanding “cum for me, Darling,” tilting his head to look up at you, exposing his neck further, making it easier for you to scratch your nails down his throat as you give into his command, gripping him by the shoulders to stabilize yourself, as your knees tighten against him and your body tremble.

He’s the king of giving you multiple orgasms. You swear it’s part of his magic, because every time he just knows perfectly where to hit. You’ll think you’re done after one, attempting to close your thighs, until “keep those pretty thighs spread for me, Sweetheart,” he commands in a deep tone, fingertips pressing into your skin, keeping your position exactly where he wants you.

Loki loves when you get on your knees for him. It’s happened before (whilst someone was off planet) where he summoned you to the throne room, requesting you in nothing but gold lingerie and your sheer emerald robe. (If he left it behind, sometimes you’d wrap yourself in his cape.) When you arrived, you found it was just the two of you, doors closed from the outside, behind your entrance. Catching on fast, you knew what he wanted. Sinking down between his knees, you went to work. Pumping him with your hand, stroking his length with your tongue, you felt his body shudder, spreading your fingers out against his quivering abdomen, until satisfaction was reached. 

↳ he always returns the favor. Later, you’ll find yourself arching your back above the silk green sheets, with Loki buried between your thighs. An arm hooked under your leg, the other pushing two fingers in and out, while he switched from kitten licking to open mouth kissing against your clit. With your hands running through his dark locks he always has an idea of where you’re at and how close you are based on how tightly you’re pulling hair.

↳ Loki loves hair pulling. He’s not really physically rough with you except for his nails digging into your skin, or should you request something on the rough side. As for him though, he loves when you pull his hair, it makes him give that damn smile and a throaty moan, sometimes a soft sensual laugh. You frequently play with his hair, but during sex it’s a whole different thing. He can tell a lot by how hard you’re pulling, if you’re curling your fingers around the tips of his hair, or if you’re knuckles deep pushing his hair back, out of his face, desperately clinging to his locks.

Spoken orgasms, with a silver tongue like his he loves to compliment you when you get him there. You’ll typically know he’s close when he’s stuttering a curse word, but you know he’s there when, “oh darling, you are ethereal,” or something similar is being sighed, with heavy breaths, a pleasure dripping laugh, or soft hums of delighted bliss.

He knows how to, and loves to, use his mouth on your body. Hickeys are 100% going to happen during sex. One of his favourite moments is when he’s trailing his kisses across your skin and he decides the next one will be a hickey, without warning you. Feeling the little nip he always gives your skin after, you yelp his name, quickly giving a slightly embarrassed laugh at your own reaction. Loki loves that moment, finding it the cutest.

A f t e r c a r e ! Loki is actually perfect at aftercare. A lot of it is him sweetly talking to you, first reminding you how incredibly beautiful you are, then asking if you need anything. While you’re calming yourself down from your high, he places soft kisses against your skin, more comforting than sensual. He traces his fingertips against where he left bruises, either by accident or by hickey, soothing the bruise with a soft lingering kiss, he’ll say “I’m sorry, Darling, was I too rough?” because he genuinely does not want to hurt you. 

↳Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles- seriously, he loves when you still want to be close to him, typically you snuggle against his side, resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps you in his arms and keeps you close, kissing the top of your head or your forehead. Stroking his hands calmingly across your skin. 

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

How about a part two of Stella x owl reader? Fights between Stolas and Stella have become increasingly rare and his mood is improving, Stolas decides to ask about, unlike Stolas, Stella knows very well how to keep her piece of paradise a secret for now. Until one day y/n decides to visit Stella under the guise of business and to give his dear little owl a "luxury massage session", but things get a little out of hand when Stolas is caught with Blitzo. (you can ignore it if you want)

Stella with her Secret Owl demon S/O

Stella, for the first time in weeks, was having a good day.

They had actually become far more common in the weeks since your confession.

She had found herself being far less stressed as of late. So much so, she had only hadn't had a fight with Stolas in a full week.

She was relaxing in her study, enjoying a good cup of tea.

She was reminiscing on your night together, the next morning you had given her a small stack of letters.

They were all addressed to her, the condition of some of them implied they were written many years ago.

It only took a single letter for her to realise they were love letters.

Dozens of them.

She took her time, pouring over each letter. Taking in every word and detail. Emotions swelling in her chest as she read each one.

It was perhaps the most romantic thing she had ever seen.

The letters acted much like a record of your feeling for her.

It started from your more innocent affection for her as a child, all the way into your growing feeling for her in your youth, when you realised your feelings for her were beyond friendship.

And into your discovery of her betrothal to Stolas.

You poured your heart into each letter, telling her everything. Everytime you thought of her, how much you missed her, berating yourself for not just telling her how much you loved her.

You wrote about how much it pained you to remember you'd never get to tell her how much he loved her.

It was a roller-coaster of emotions. Some letters made her laugh. Others brought her to tears.

And by the end, she was clutching the letters to her chest. Her chest swollen with emotion as she experienced so many emotions all at once.

Her marriage with Stolas was... less than voluntary. The whole union being mostly political, arranged by there parents.

She had hoped love would bloom after Octavia's birth. But it hadn't, and after that she knew love was not meant to be.

But you, you genuinely loved her, for her.

You dedicated your life to being worthy of her.

You didn't want her for her status or wealth, you wanted her, for her.

She cood to herself dreamily, fantasising about your time together.

Her fantasising was cut short when there was a neck on her study door.

She quickly placed the letters into her draw before asking who it was.

Much to her surprise, it was none other then Stolas who entered her office. Her 'husband' looked about nervously, rightfully so, she supposed as he stepped in.

'Hello, uh, Stella.' He said nervously 'may I talk to you for a moment.'

Stella had a colourful collection of words she wanted to use at him. But instead she simply asked 'What do you want?'

Stolas cleared his throat, clearly not surprised by her callous tone.

Taking a few steps he began 'I've noticed this past few weeks you've been less... confrontation.' Stella's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue.

'And I was just thinking, if perhaps we could come to an agreement.'

That actually peaked her interest. 'What kind of agreement?' She asked warily.

Stolas looked thrilled she hadn't thrown him out yet. 'Well, I was thinking we could put our differences aside, put the whole incident between us behind us. FOr Octavias sake.' He quickly cut in. 'Our constant arguing has taken quite the toll on her.'

Stella clenched her hands, he claws digging into her palm. 'For octavias sake...?' she asked incredulously.

Rage swelled in her chest 'How fucking dare you!' She told him through a scowl.

She pointed an angry finger at him. 'You, YOU! Cheat on me! Betray our marriage. Betray our family. And you want me to act like nothing happened. "For Octavia's sake"?'

She stood up, she couldn't even look at him. 'You disgust me. Tell me, would you give up your little fucking Imp? If it would make everything like it was, would you give him up?'

Stolas didn't answer, instead opting to look off to the side. Stella just sighed, shaking her head.

'Your a selfish, pathetic coward. Hiding behind your own daughter, what a disgrace.'

Before she could tell him to get out, there was a knock at the door. 'Who is it?' She shouted.

The door opened slowly, revealing one of the palace Imps. 'What do you want?' She asked harshly.

'T-theres a Lord (Y/N) here to see you. They say it's a business matter.'

Stella instantly perked up, holding back a smile as she rose to her feet. 'Thank you. I shall greet them personally.'

Getting up she walked past Stolas, not even bothering to give him a second glance.

She made her way to the entrance, and much to her annoyance, Stolas had seemingly decided to follow her, for some reason.

She quickly made it to the entrance, you were waiting there, anxiously adjusting your attire.

Hearing her approach you turned, your face lit up when your eyes layed apon her, Only for it to instantly dull upon seeing Stolas.

Still wearing a smile, you reached forward and took her hand before planted a gentle kiss upon it.

'Lady Stella. Its a pleasure to see you after so long. You still look as enchanting as when we were children.' You tell her, sending butterfly's through her stomach.

The moment was sullied when Stolas but in, 'Children?' The butterflies in her stomich instantly falling dead. 'Do you know each other?' He asked.

Before Stella could speak, you cut in 'Me and Stella were childhood friends.' You told him extending your hand. 'Its been some time since we've met in person.'

Stolas took your hand, giving it a firm shake. 'Is that so? Stella never mentioned you.'

'Well until recently' you rolled your head, your smile just holding back a scowl. 'I was beneath notice. I've only achieving my status relatively recently.'

'I was from a lower house, you see, a vassel of her family. And through that, me and Stella became friends.' You gave her a warm look, staring for several moments.

Stolas went to ask another question but Stella cut him off. 'You had business to discuss, did you not (Y/N)?' She asked.

You snapped to her, delighted to not have to talk to Stolas any further.

'Yes, i do' you said happily 'I believe a mutually beneficial arrangement could be made, between our houses.

'Excellent' she proclaims happily. 'It been so long since we've had any real business. And perhaps we could use the chance to catch up. It has been far too long.'

You looked at her fondly, before Stella turned, signalling for you to follow.

You did, turning to Stolas as you left 'It was a pleasure to meet you, your highness.' You told him, the slightest hint of disdain in your voice.

The two of you made your way to her study, you opening the door for her, giving a slight bow as she entered.

She giggled at your antics, before you followed her in, shutting the door behind you.

As soon as the door shut Stella instantly spun around and pinned you to the door, locking you in a heavy kiss.

'You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that.' Stella told you, after breaking the kiss.

You just chuckled before raising an eyebrow, 'oh, i think I do.' You told her playfully.

Stella just giggled, giving you a peck on the cheek. Pulling away she got up and went over to her desk.

You followed close behind, wrapping her in a hug. 'Now, now (Y/N), we have business to attend to.' She told you, patting your arm.

You just chuckled, 'Stella, I didn't really come here for business. I came to spend time with you.'

Stella was a little taken aback, mostly for not seeing it, as on reflection it was quite obvious.

Kissing her neck you slid your hands onto her shoulders, gently rubbing the muscles around her muscle.

Stella moaned at your touch, this only emboldened you, as your hands rubbed deeper and rougher.

Digging your fingers into her shoulder muscles. Stella released a flurry of moans, gripping her desk as you worked over her shoulder blades.

You moved down her spine, slowly undoing her dress as you went.

Reaching the bottom she turned to you, moving her shoulders, her dress fell, leaving her in all her natural glory.

You took her then and there, the two of you wrapped in passion, you held nothing back, releasing years of passion.

When stella became more vocal, you tried to get her quiet down, in fear ztolas might catch you.

As you got rougher, she just cried out 'I want him to hear!'

You went on for a while, after you finished, you held Stella close, the Owl demon curled up on your lap.

You preened your lover, running your hands all across her body before gently plucking any feather you didn't deem worthy to stay on your perfect mate. Afterwards the two of you got dressed.

You meticulously inspecting Stella, head to toe, ensuring she was perfectly groomed from head to toe.

The two of you leaft her study, ensuring no evidence of your little escapade was left behind.

The small collection of Stella's feathers, were delicately placed in your coat pocket.

You followed her into the garden, strolling through the large hedges that sat behind the Goetia palace.

Confident you where alone, you held Stella close, sharing a public display of affection.

You made it deep into the hedges, finding yourself beneath a large tree. It was a beautiful reminder that there was still life in hell.

You took her hand, you lead her beneath the trees majesty.

You pushed your body against hers, pinning her to the tree as you locked your lips with her's.

As you deepened the kiss, The distinct sound of snaping twigs drew your attention.

Snapping your head to face the noise, you found its source.

An Imp had fallen through the hedge, leaving a large hole in his stead.

You locked eyes with the Imp and sighed, 'well, this won't end well' you thought.

The Imp seem to think the same thing, before you both exclaimed 'Well, Fuck!'

Thanks for the request. I really love writing for both Stolas and Stella, as I feel there just isn't enough story centred around them as individuals. It always about there family or Stolas and Blitzø. But I really enjoyed the request. I hope you enjoyed.

[mansions-maiden]

Hello! I am so happy your requests are open! Could you write for the grumpy bröer, Theo and prompt #19: "we can share, only if I can feed you." Thank you!

Hello dear anon! Hope you're having a wonderful day/night. Sorry it took so much time to complete this. Hope you enjoy this!

Prompt:19. We can share, only if I can feed you

Characters: Theo, gn! MC. (not in relationship)

words: 1.3K

A/n: Cedric is side character in Theo's route. He is Theo's client

The evident discontent in those stormy blue eyes only deepened the delighted grin on your face. An incessant amusement danced in your eyes, which only prompted Theo to deepen his skin prickling glare on his co-worker as if adding fuel to the fire.

His desire only grew more when he looked in your direction, or quite precisely, at the stack of syrup-dipped pancakes in front of you.

But he had to control himself, as he remembered that he had lost the bet to you. He impatiently tapped his fingers against the table, which didn't go unheard by you. Your smile became more sympathetic and less of amusement as you saw his impatience.

You reminisced how you got how you had won the bet.

THE PREVIOUS DAY:

You and Theo were out in the city to select the paintings for his clients. Both picked a painting each to sell to Cedric, your esteemed customer.

You looked at your selection and smiled proudly to yourself. "I'm sure Cedric will choose my painting tomorrow. Theo scoffed beside you and crossed his arms. "No, knabbeltje. He's going to choose MY painting. I know his tastes and likes very well. "

"Oh please, Theo! Just because you are a famous art dealer here doesn't mean that your customers wouldn't like other's selection!" You turned to him with a sigh.

Theo raised a single eyebrow, a look of amusement in his eyes. He ran his fingers through his chestnut hair, his ocean blue eyes focusing on the small figure in front of him.

"The pup is barking against her master now, eh?"

"Speak for yourself, 'master.' "You scoffed exasperatedly.

Theo laughed mirthfully, amusement dripping in his laughter. "If you're so confident in your selection, Why don't we have a challenge?"

Your eyes perked up in interest at his statement. "Whomever's selection is picked by Cedric will be the winner tomorrow. "

You turned to him fully and asked," What will the winner get?"

Theo thought for a while before replying," The winner will get a treat from the loser in the parlour. And the losing one gets nothing to eat." You naturally accepted the challenge.

You were fuelled with a competitive spirit and accepted the challenge. Deep down, you were nervous. You knew this enterprising devil was not famous without any reason. His sharp eye and spot-on guess of others' character gives him a huge advantage over you. He's a prodigy, after all. But it was too late to take back your words by now.

The following day, you both went to Cedric's home with your paintings. You and Theo confidently smirked at each other, both of you willing to win the challenge at any cost. There was a playful tense atmosphere engulfing you both.

You asked Cedric to select a painting between the two that spoke to him the most. Time seemed to flow slowly as Cedric's hand touched his favourite painting. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted with a baffled expression on Theo's face. Cedric's hand was atop your painting. Your lips immediately broke into the broadest smile they can form, and your eyes were brimming with the confidence of a person who overcame their greatest difficulty.

You both finished selling the painting to him and came outside. You tapped Theo's shoulder with a grin on your face and chirped, "Well 'Master,' looks like the amateur has won the challenge this time.'

Theo smiled back at you genuinely, his fine features making him look even more boyish and handsome than usual. Your heart skipped a beat at his rare but genuine smile on his lips.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Let's go to the parlour, hondje. Gotta reward you for your hard work and victory. Looks like you're shining under my training."

You both shook your hands and smiled at each other, equally happy and feeling admiration for each other.

Theo took you to the parlour as he promised, and your mind was urging you to avenge Theo harmlessly. You thought of ways to tease Theo, and a brilliant idea popped up in your mind.

You just had to confirm one thing with him. "What was the condition again Theo, the one who lost gets nothing to eat, no?"

Theo nodded in agreement. You both took a seat. You called the waiter and were ready to give your order. But- just to taunt him, you pretended to go through the menu, thinking aloud. "Um- I crave something sweet. How about I order pancakes, Theo-? Oh, and also, I should not forget the syrup."

Theo understood your trick. Yet, he was getting riled up because you were taking full advantage of the challenge in your own way.

"Order whatever you want. And make it quick. I am not going to sit here and wait forever as you nibble on it."

You pouted at him. "I wanted to savour the pancakes slowly as I worked hard. But it looks like I can't…." You looked down at the table.

Theo sighed as he replied, "okay, stop right there. You don't have to guilt-trip me, you know? Do whatever you want."

You smiled at him, knowing that you had won the 'argument.' You ordered pancakes, and of course, the sweet syrup.

At present:

While you were taking your own sweet time enjoying the pancakes, looking at Theo trying to distract himself from his all-time favourite snack made you feel a bit guilty. You thought you had your share of fun, but you thought a little bit more of it wouldn't hurt anyone.

You looked at Theo and said, "Theo, I can't eat at peace while you are sitting there both patiently and impatiently at the same time somehow. So shall I propose an Idea?"

Theo leaned forward in his chair, a hint of curiosity shining in his eyes. "We can share the pancake, equally between us. But-" you gave a pause, looking at Theo in the eye. "But, what? Continue it, hondje."

You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. "But- we can share, but only if I can feed you. "

Theo was taken aback by your proposal. He looked between you and the stack of pancakes, looking thoughtful. You were waiting for his decision. He looked hesitant, but he gave in to the temptation and accepted it. You laughed at him, amused by the way the tables had turned.

You cut into the pancakes and held your fork to his mouth, waiting for him to eat it. He nibbled at them, all the while looking away from you. The littlest hints of blush on his cheeks made you flustered as well, suddenly wondering how you look like to the other people. You looked at the glass window beside you, reflecting both of you. You looked like a couple, and suddenly, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

All of your confidence melted right there, just like the butter on the pancakes. You were about you retract your hand back, but Theo caught it gently before you could do it. He smiled at you and asked, "Are you taking back your deal? Will you leave me hungry? " You slowly shook your head, and Theo ate the remaining piece on the fork and grinned at you. "Eat fast. I also want to have my share of pancakes, as you said."

You realised it suddenly and nodded, quickly finishing up the remaining part of the pancake. Theo took the remaining half and ate it, still having a smug look on his face.

That entire evening, you were distracted, your thoughts filled with Theo and the failed challenge, which you thought would win by riling him up.

Hope you enjoyed reading it!

[mxvladdy]

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.    

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own.  Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.  

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.  

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.  

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.  

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - Afternoon Delight (Rated M)

Summary: When Aziraphale invites Crowley over for some 'afternoon delight', Crowley daydreams about finally making love to his angel. But there's a chance that Crowley may be misinterpreting Aziraphale's invitation. (1576 words)

Read on AO3.

"Crowley!? My boy, are you there? Are you all right? What was that frightful noise?"

"It's... it's nothing! I'm all right!" Crowley rambles as he drops to his knees and scrabbles for his phone. It slipped from his grasp after Aziraphale extended an unexpected invitation, and in response, Crowley blacked out for a few. "Could you just... ?" He knocks it with his knee, sending it careening across the marble floor like a hockey puck. With a growl and a frustrated snap of his fingers, he puts the call on speaker, then sits nearby, feeling it safer if he continues this conversation while planted firmly on his bum. "Could you repeat wot you said? So I know I've heard you right?"

Aziraphale sniffs in mild annoyance but cheerfully repeats, "I thought you might like to stop by for a little afternoon delight!"

"Yeah. That's wot I thought you said." Crowley swallows hard, his mind spinning in a dozen directions as he tries to sort out an appropriate response. Since he didn't foresee himself being in this situation today, he doesn't know where to begin. Left to its own devices, his brain lands on the least important, and the most ludicrous, reaction: how does an angel who doesn't particularly like bebop even know that reference? 

"Ungh... now?" he asks in disbelief because, well, now? After all the time they've known one another, there hasn't been a single mention of them having sex. Not a nibble. And now, all of a sudden, all at once? With no pretense, no awkward explanations, no negotiating?

An outright invite as if Aziraphale were speaking on something no more extraordinary than afternoon tea.

Not that Crowley hasn't thought about it. He has definitely thought about it, and at length. He just wasn't certain Aziraphale had, naive bastard that he is.

Well. Now he knows. 

"Yes, now," Aziraphale replies, getting huffy. 

"You want to share an afternoon delight... with me?" Crowley can sense Aziraphale growing short and becomes anxious that he may renege on his invitation, but he has to know that this is what angel means. 

"Yes! An afternoon delight with you! I know it's going on supper, but the opportunity has arisen, and I'm too excited to wait till tomorrow!"

"Are you really?" Crowley asks, warming up to the idea of driving over to Aziraphale's bookshop to satisfy his angel's spontaneous desire for sex.

"Oh yes! I thought I could wait, but the more I think about it, the more I need to get it in my mouth immediately!"

"Ngk!" Crowley's cock, twitching with interest, rockets to full attention. He's thankful he made the decision to leave his phone on the floor. The way his hands go tingly and cold, it was destined to fall again. "Okay, then. I'll come over straight away... for an afternoon delight."

"Great!" Aziraphale says, sounding immensely pleased. "Do get a wiggle on. After all the effort I put into beating it stiff, it would be a shame to see it soften."

Crowley responds with only a guttural noise after that as he chokes on his tongue.

***

Crowley drives to Aziraphale's bookshop as if God Herself is hot on his heels, threatening to hose him down with Holy Water. Normally he delights in the chaos he creates while speeding through the streets of London, weaving in and out of traffic, sending pedestrians scurrying for safety. But not today. Today, his mind is installed elsewhere.

Between Aziraphale's thighs, for one - his lips lingering on the delicate skin behind angel's knees before Crowley spreads his legs apart and...

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Slow down, for God's sake!"

"Arsehole!"

That last one, coming from a bent old lady eighty years older than Moses, breaks him momentarily out of his daydream and makes him chuckle. But, quickly, he's transported back to the magical realm of Aziraphale's corporeal form, starts to sweat at thoughts of kissing Aziraphale's plump, bitten lips, his soft moans filling the air with lusty amalgamations of Crowley's name. He's heard Aziraphale say his name hundreds of times before in as many different ways, though mainly in exasperation.

Begging would be a new, delicious addition to that collection.

Crowley parks his car out front, half-on/half-off the curb. He leaves it up to his Bentley to lock up and barrels up the steps of A. Z. Fell and Co., bursts through the double doors without contemplating the best way to make an entrance. Aziraphale opted for the direct approach with his invitation.

Crowley decides to follow suit and do the same.

And he's greeted by... nothing. Musty air and silence. But that doesn't stop him. He's there for a purpose, and with Aziraphale's express permission.

To finally make love to his angel.

"Aziraphale? I'm here!" Crowley calls, snapping his fingers to lock the doors and pull the shades. "I've arrived! Where are you?" He unbuttons his shirt, undoes the fly to his trousers, and begins to undress, searching the stacks and shelves. He sheds each article as he stumbles through, leaving them in his wake. If he weren't a demon, his dry cleaning bill would be atrocious.

One of the perks of his job.

But, honestly, he couldn't care less. He's waited for this moment for so damn long he can taste it, sweet on his tongue like candy floss. In his head, he feels Aziraphale and only Aziraphale, knows he's somewhere close by and alone. 

Waiting for him.

Crowley imagines the level of undressed Aziraphale may be as well. No bow tie and with his top button undone? That right there is enough to make Crowley’s mouth water - hints of pale, perfect skin peeking out from beneath his baby blue shirt. Or will he go further? Jacket gone, waistcoat hanging open, shirt buttons opened to part way down, sleeves rolled up and showing off his impressive forearms?

Oof.

Crowley stops walking to take that thought in, let it wash through him and feed his erection instead of disrupting it prematurely.

And what about the state of his trousers? Button unbuttoned, zip lowered, waistband shrugged to his hips, waiting for Crowley to reach out a hand and take the next step, trembling fingertips sneaking underneath the smoothest cotton fabric known to man…

“Good lord,” Crowley murmurs, stuttering to a halt one more time as he steps into a ring of light. His eyelids flutter shut as the light glows brighter, and another voice echoes his with its own utterance of, “Good lord.”

Crowley grins. He recognizes that voice.

“Aziraphale?”

“Who else were you expecting?”

Crowley opens his eyes and finds angel… slightly more dressed than Crowley had anticipated.

Aziraphale stares at Crowley wide-eyed, a flush of rose climbing up his neck, his holy aura as blinding as his cheeks. "Crowley! Why on Earth have you taken off your clothes!?"

“Uh… I don’t know?” Crowley looks Aziraphale up and down. Not only is he fully dressed, but he’s wearing an apron to boot.

So more dressed than usual.

“And you’ve tossed them all over.” Aziraphale tuts, shakes his head. “They’ll be ruined.”

Crowley is tempted to agree, gather them all up, put them on, and blow this off like one big joke. But he’s so genuinely baffled, he can’t force himself to act. "I... uh... might be confused. Why am I here again?"

"For some afternoon delight!"

Crowley nods, his head pounding from a loss of blood that’s causing other areas of his human-shaped form to throb. "And you know wot that is?"

"Of course, I do!"

"And you don't think that undressing might be in order?"

"Heavens no! Unless you're concerned about getting your clothes dirty… ” Aziraphale leans to one side and peeks over Crowley’s bare shoulder “… not that that makes much difference now. But you've always been a tidy eater."

Crowley's back teeth clench around a whine. Eat! Yes! Eat! Isn’t that what he’s here for (among other things)? "Eat wot, exactly?"

"This." Aziraphale gestures proudly to a round table in the center of the room, urging Crowley, with eager blue eyes, to investigate. Crowley shuffles over, too curious to be concerned by his nakedness. He looks down at the dessert sitting on its silver plate, surrounded by Aziraphale’s tea service, and quirks an eyebrow. 

“A cake?”

“Yes.”

"That's not wot afternoon delight means, angel."

"Of course, it does."

"How do you figure?"

"It says so right here in my cookbook." Aziraphale grabs a book from the table, its cover worn from decades of man-handling and food spills. He opens to a page marked by a tattered red ribbon and clears his throat. "Five-Layer Afternoon Delight: a strawberry and chocolate mousse confection divided by layers of pecans and meringue atop a light-as-air angel food cake slathered with sweet cream."

"That does sound scrummy," Crowley says, whimpering at the mention of angel food slathered in cream.

"Doesn't it?" Aziraphale sets the book aside so he can cut a slice for his companion. "Besides, I thought it would be the perfect prelude."

"Yeah?" Crowley snaps his clothes back on and takes a seat, reaching for his plate. Dusty and humiliated, he crosses his legs to kill his erection. He picks up his fork and prepares to tuck in, resigned to the fact that this is the only angel cake he's going to get his lips around. "Prelude to what?"

"To sex," Aziraphale says, grinning like a beast when he hears the China plate hit the floor.

[all-about-seggs]

A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

[justmaybee]

Feather Sensitive

Summary: Oh, Yamaguchi’s really done it this time. He should just keep his mouth shut from now on. Unfortunately, that’s the exact opposite of what Hinata wants.

A/N: Y’ello! Another off-brand one, but hopefully a fandom peeps recognize. I haven’t seen Haikyuu in a lil, but I love Yamigoops and this has been 90% done for forever so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Based entirely off the second headcanon here, by @ticklishnonsense — absolutely loved it and you can tell cuz I wrote this ages ago for no other reason than having it written down for myself~

A big thank you to OP for letting me use her work as inspiration!!

———

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

Yamaguchi can’t will his mind into more elaborate thought, because it’s all just suddenly sunken in.

Hinata’s weight, heavy but not uncomfortable, resting snug on his hips. The loose tank top, just slightly too big on him, stolen out of Kageyama’s stuff at some point during one sleepover or another. And that ridiculously giant feather Hinata’s got poised between his fingers, like it’s a quill and Yamaguchi is a trembling, twitchy sheet of parchment about to be marked up.

When had he told Hinata? Why had he told Hinata?

Tsukki had figured it out, years and years ago; during one of their many one-sided tickle fights, Yamaguchi thinks. It’s been used against him for as long as he can remember, stray fluff from down pillows and blankets brushed over his neck or feet to pull a sudden and squeaky laugh. He’s never, ever told Tsukki just how much it really tickled though, and Tsukki never asked.

So why did he have to go and mention this to a person just as skilled and merciless in tickling people—often Yamaguchi people—into boneless puddles of teary, hysterical laughter?

It’s got to be Hinata’s charm. If Tsukishima has his cold, borderline apathetic, poise to lay base for his killer teasing method, then Hinata’s strength comes in his natural curiosity. Wide eyes, a light voice, and an openness that makes Yamaguchi feel like he can talk to him.

This, apparently, is not the case in a topic involving feathers. Because Yamaguchi will apparently lose all sense of self-preservation and voice his thoughts on how unbearably sensitive he is to a thing most people will flinch at and brush away like nothing.

But of course, it’s too late for him to realize his mistake now. It wasn’t until Hinata came barreling down the hall, shopping bag in hand, to tackle Yamaguchi to the living room carpet that things started rolling into motion.

Now Hinata’s got Yamaguchi pinned, arms under his knees and a big, big smile stretched over his face. It’s so genuine and excited that Yamaguchi finds himself getting a little lost in it, at least until the feather comes back into focus.

“I mean come on, Yamaguchi.” Hinata holds the quill of the feather and traces the soft end up his own arm, dusting it over his collarbone and getting just a hint of a twitch out of his lips before twirling it between his fingers. “I almost think that you’re lying to me.”

But his face must convince Hinata otherwise, because he doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a lie. The tracing of the feather, even along Hinata’s skin has Yamaguchi twitching, breathing funny. Goosebumps rise along his arms, and Hinata is so riled up with energy—so ready to take Yamaguchi apart—that it’s practically impossible for the brunette to even try and stop the wobbly smile making its way onto his face.

Hinata is the one to burst the bubble of anticipation building slowly in Yamaguchi’s gut. He laughs, a delighted little sound, commenting on the cute pink of Yamaguchi’s blush before he goes in for the kill. And Yamaguchi has never been that great at holding back his reactions, especially when he’s already a tense and flustered mess untouched, so the result is pretty immediate.

The first giggle slips hesitantly out of his throat but clears the way for many more as Hinata gently traces the base of his neck, skimming over his collarbones like even a feather could break them if used too harshly.

It’s a little timid, a little reserved, which is a major change of pace from Hinata’s usual quick and dirty way of fighting. He’s always had a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of approach to a tickle fight; either win outright or die trying, but the new method seems to slow him down a bit.

He’s thinking, watching. And luckily, for him and most certainly not Yamaguchi, the change seems to work really well with the soft touch of the feather. Pulling giggle after giggle from his victim and making him sputter at the attention when he realizes how closely he’s being observed.

The plume travels slowly up Yamaguchi’s neck, high enough that he’s able to jerk his head to block out either side as it passes. Unfortunately, that just causes Hinata to speed up the back and forth strokes, attempting to dodge Yamaguchi’s blocks. And it’s effective and so much more ticklish, Yamaguchi chokes on his sudden snort and tosses his head back on impulse, laughter getting louder and more desperate as Hinata takes advantage of the newly exposed skin.

He keeps at it until Yamaguchi feels light-headed, a little delirious with his laughter completely unchecked. The feather strays to flick up over his ear, and the whimpering laugh that comes out keeps Hinata there until Yamaguchi’s shoulder is twitching spastically of its own accord, desperately trying to stop the light, constant brush over his sensitive skin.

He gets a break—thank God—after a few minutes of this. Being dubbed most ticklish in the house (after many, many tests) has left him with pretty high stamina. But somehow a few minutes of Hinata and a feather has him panting for breath like he’d just finished a hundred laps around the gym.

Yamaguchi is so caught up in catching his breath (and trying to calm that tic in his shoulder) that he doesn’t really think about how breaks aren’t much of Hinata’s style either.

His floaty mind comes to bite him when he feels two soft points of contact touch down on his wrists.

His arms jolt on instinct. His elbows move a smidge in either direction but stick firm to the ground. Hinata’s smile takes on a wicked gleam and...oh boy.

If Yamaguchi gets out of this alive, the others will have some real competition for scariest tickler.

The feathers sweep back and forth, back and forth over his arms. They start at the wrist, and would almost feel nice if not for the impending sense of doom that has blood rushing through Yamaguchi’s ears right now.

The swaying movement drifts up, painfully slow. He doesn’t even think it tickles that much right now, but that doesn’t stop him from physically biting his lip to stop the snickers from making their way out.

It’s when the pair reach his inner elbow that first crack appears. Yamaguchi gasps and Hinata perks up, keeping the feathers there a moment longer, letting them sweep side to side a little faster.

From there the cracks spiderweb exponentially.

The gasp ends up turning into a snort. As Himata continues his path upward, it becomes a whine. And when he’s at the faint line where his skin darkens with a tan, from long summer days spent out in a t-shirt, he decides to flick the feathers in an alternating pattern over either arm.

It has Yamaguchi rocking back and forth in a way that he guesses might look kind of funny. Hinata starts laughing anyways. And of course, it’s enough to get Yamaguchi’s lips to loosen and let out the stream of bubbling giggles he’s been suppressing for far too long already.

His arms feel warm, almost as hot as his face, even though their air conditioning has been working pretty decently lately. There’s a faint tingly feeling still left where the feathers had once brushed his skin.

Everything already feels so sensitive, and Hinata isn’t even there yet.

There are butterflies having a—a mosh pit in his stomach right now. He can’t remember the last time he felt so wound up getting tickled. Then again, he can’t remember the last time Hinata put this much...care? Is that the right word for this situation? —into destroying him.

It makes Yamaguchi a little happy, for some reason.

And sometime about that moment seems to be the limit for Hinata’s concentration, because the change from gentle, teasing touches to his usual form of attack is both quick and excruciating.

The moment after, when Yamaguchi suddenly has two feathers sweeping fast little strokes under his arms, his brain completely short circuits.

What leaves his mouth can only be called a shriek and it’s quickly drowned out by the squeaky, panicked laughter that floods the room immediately.

His chest is jerking side to side in vain. There’s hair in his eyes and a little in his mouth from how violently he’s tossing his head around, but he can’t register a thing beyond the millions of wispy, light strands fluttering a fast track over and over and over the soft and sensitive skin beneath his restrained arms.

Hinata gets the bright idea to not try and jam the delicate things towards the floor anymore. He instead tries twirling them in a circular motion in the spaces underneath Yamaguchi’s arms.

Yamaguchi didn’t think his voice was high enough to screech like he used to, but ‘Hey, you learn something new everyday,’ he thinks, entirely delirious.

His back arches off the ground, head tossing back then pressing into his shoulder as if it’ll somehow smother his hysterical laughter.

It’s bright and desperate and so, so loud. Yamaguchi would typically only reach this point when someone’s feeling particularly ruthless with plenty of time to spare, but it could be hours since Hinata first got him pinned down; it sure feels like it.

There are weird little squeaks that pierce the air when he’s got the breath. His limbs are doing this constant squirm that’s got him feeling hot all over. His lashes feel wet and he knows it’s a matter of seconds before the tears start to fall.

But nothing is more prominent than the feeling of soft, soft, so very soft; and it tickles, it tickles, it really tickles.

———

When Yamaguchi’s brain finally starts rebuilding from the mush, hiccuping giggles making their way through his gasps for breath, he feels Hinata still sitting on top of him. Thankfully—mercifully—though, the feathers are nowhere to be seen, and his hands have been let free.

Seeing Hinata’s hand in his peripheral makes him flinch, but he just wipes at Yamaguchi’s cheek, brushing away the leftover moisture.

“I had to stop because you were starting to look like a strawberry,” Hinata grins. His skin is cool against Yamaguchi’s. He leans into the touch.

“So...was that awesome or what?” Hinata continues, voice energetic though he still rubs a soothing motion over Yamaguchi’s cheek.

Yamaguchi takes a second to reflect. On the dreamy tiredness seeping into his bones, the floaty high that fills up his head.

He nods, once or twice. Though from where Hinata’s sitting, it could just be Yamaguchi nuzzling into his hand. That’s fine. Yamaguchi could use the plausible deniability.

Once he’s been declared as officially ‘not a strawberry anymore,’ Hinata helps him up. He only stumbles a little bit, but of course Hinata has to poke fun.

“You know what that means?” Hinata throws out, arm linked with Yamaguchi’s as they make their way to a well-deserved seat on the couch.

Yamaguchi hums in response.

“We’ve gotta start building up your tolerance.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, but he’s pushed onto the couch with a lap full of Hinata before he can say anything. He looks up at Yamaguchi all big eyes and a bigger smile. Yamaguchi swallows.

“We’re doing that again, soon.“

[chatonne-rousse]

The Importance of the Black Cat

Adrien has a lot on his mind - concerns, questions, doubts. And right now, he has only one being to confide in. There is not enough cheese in the world to make Plagg want to handle this situation, but his holder needs him, and he knows two things with certainty: his very important place in the world, and that no one hurts his kitten. Not if he has anything to say about it.

Read it on Ao3 here.

The Camembert he holds in his paws is aged beautifully, gooey and perfectly pungent. He knows it was expensive, purchased with his holder’s allowance, and therefore tries to at least do the kid the honor of enjoying it. But as he mulls over the day’s events, the first few bites sit like a brick in his tiny stomach.

Tonight, Plagg eats his cheese for sustenance only. It’s hard to find the usual joy when his holder hasn’t spoken since they arrived home.

The light in the closet switches off as Adrien shuffles out into the bedroom, dressed for bed in black pajama pants and an old white t-shirt. The departure from his usual red and black spotted look doesn’t escape Plagg’s notice, but he chooses not to comment.

Plagg discovered long ago that his devotion to his holders is inversely proportional to his ability to counsel them. He knows he’s not good at advice beyond cheese and chaos. He wasn’t made for emotions and heartfelt chats.

A sure and confident holder didn’t usually open his heart or seek his kwami’s counsel, and Plagg liked that. They did their jobs, they shared their lives, but they didn’t share their hearts. They didn’t need to, because his holder needed his power more than his presence.

But once in a while, he’d materialize in front of a human whose eyes shone with innocent kindness, and he knew immediately that they would need him. If he’s honest, Plagg will admit that these are the best wielders of destruction. It’s all about intention, after all, and a pure heart rarely destroys with disregard. These holders, however, always seemed to come with a price - they saw their kwami as less of a means to an end and more of a friend.

He loved these holders. He would level cities and wipe out species for them. But oh, did he ever dread having to talk to them. Really, really talk.

Plagg knows his kitten will break the silence soon. It’s only a matter of time. He isn’t sure if it will be to talk about being stuck in the elevator with his very good friend, a monologue that will no doubt be punctuated by sighs and soft eyes that will be quickly denied if his kwami points them out.

One undeniable fact from the day, however, is the racing pulse and rapid breathing of a boy terrified of being locked up and feeling increasingly helpless in the situation. Plagg knows very well that it happened, because he was tucked inside Adrien’s shirt listening to his pounding heart. He hopes his holder doesn’t want to talk about that, because it’s way above Plagg’s pay grade.

He also hopes his holder won’t ponder why only he was dragged through the portal to safety, or why Rena Rouge was the one to do it.

Plagg gets down almost two full wedges of cheese before Adrien sits down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Plagg?” His voice is quiet but doesn’t betray any emotion yet. That’s actually more worrying.

Steeling himself, Plagg swallows the last big bite of cheese and zips from the desk to perch on top of the globe, facing his holder. “What’s up?”

He heaves another sigh before looking up into Plagg’s eyes, emotions still unreadable.

“How important is the black cat?”

Oh. A wave of relief makes Plagg’s whiskers perk up. The question is unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. He’s lousy with advice but an expert at talking about himself.

He puffs up his tiny chest and grins a fanged grin. “Only the most important, kid! Everything has to end sometime - except me, of course, but,” he shrugs, “we can’t all be perfect.” He hopes that will garner a smile, but realizes a moment too late that he’d started his speech talking about death to a boy who lost his mother at thirteen. Oh no, he thinks, panicking. He’s bad at this, too.

He barrels on. “I mean, creation is nothing without destruction. The very concepts go together, always. Can you imagine a world where flowers never wilt and people never die?” Adrien’s eyes widen and his brows furrow. Shit, Plagg thinks. I did it again.

“Plagg, that sounds...really nice, actually.”

He shakes his head. He can get this back on track. He’ll fall back on pragmatism like always. “It does, but that’s not how the world works. Your planet can’t sustain an expanding and eternal population. Everything grows and lives and dies and starts over again. Everything has a beginning and an end.” Plagg’s eyes shine with pride. “Only I, and my very lucky holders, get to harness that inevitability into a real power, and use it for good. Tikki and her bugs can create, but we destroy,” he pitches his voice lower, his tone serious, “so they can create again.”

Adrien’s eyes are still wide, but Plagg sees wonder and a bit of pride there. He lets his tiny shoulders relax.

“I never thought of it that way. You really are amazing, buddy.” He reaches out to scratch Plagg behind the ears with a soft smile that his kwami would see doesn’t reach his eyes if his own weren’t closed with pride and delight.

The hand retreats, and Plagg opens his eyes just to watch Adrien’s face fall.

“But I meant...how important is the black cat to the ladybug?”

"How...what?" Plagg splutters, taken aback. "I just told you, kid. Every beginning has an end. Creation and destruction are perfectly equal. You don't want to know what happens when they're not."

Adrien's eyes snap to his, clearly on the edge of a dawning horror. Oh no. Not again.

Plagg waves his paws. "What I mean is, you need each other. Tikki is never activated without me, and I'm never called up without her. We're two halves of a whole. You've never seen the inside of the miracle box," he scowls, "which is bullshit, by the way, but if you did, you'd see that the center is a circle, split perfectly in two. Tikki and I go together, and so do you and Ladybug. You can do this without each other, but you're not meant to."

Adrien's shoulders droop. "Yeah, I know she can win a fight without me. She's had to do it before." He sighs. "A lot."

"Sure," Plagg agrees, and can't resist adding, "but she wouldn't need to if you didn't throw yourself in the line of fire every chance you get."

"I have to protect her, Plagg! You know that! Ladybug is more important than me."

"Kid!" Plagg bursts out in frustration, "I don't know how else to tell you this! You. Are. Equal."

“Then…” Adrien’s breath catches and he blinks several times. “Then why doesn’t she need me anymore?”

For just a moment, in the time it takes for the words to register and translate and pierce his heart, Plagg’s ire flares white-hot and livid. No one hurts my kitten and gets away with it. But he looks into his holder’s eyes, sad and achingly lonely, and his anger slips away as quickly as it came. He’ll deal with his own feelings on the matter later.

Besides, it’s not Marinette’s fault. She’s doing the best she can. He’d still relish giving her an earful, but piling on the heartbreaking guilt about his holder’s situation wouldn’t really help and might just snap what Tikki has insinuated is a currently-tenuous grasp on stability. Plagg knows she’s making decisions based on the mentorship of a flawed man, a failed guardian who ran from his mistakes for the better part of two centuries.

Fu never understood Plagg and never tried to. None of the guardians did. Beyond knowing the basics of his power and the importance of the ring of the black cat in relation to the earrings of the ladybug, Fu never saw Plagg as anything more than a liability. Which is honestly fair, but Plagg doesn’t have to like it.

He definitely doesn’t have to like it when the rules of secrecy leave his kitten in the dark and feeling useless. Especially after what he now suspects from the clues he got today.

He looks into his holder's tear-filled eyes and sees a soft innocence rare among the long line of black cats who've worn the ring. This might just be his most difficult assignment yet, but it's also one of his favorites, and he'll protect his kitten no matter what it takes. Even if it means talking about feelings.

Once his stomach is settled, he's going to eat so much cheese to make up for this.

Plagg takes a deep breath. "Who spotted Optigami in the elevator today?"

Adrien blinks but says nothing.

"Who made sure Ladybug didn't tell her secrets to Truth?" He waits another moment, watching Adrien's blush rise and letting his words sink in. "And who protected her identity when she was hit by Kwamibuster?"

"Okay, but—"

Plagg steamrolls his holder shamelessly. "You were the key to defeating Gorizilla, Stormy Weather, Lady Wifi. I have a long memory, kid. Do you want me to keep going? Because I haven't even gotten to the times you kept your bug afloat with all those pep talks and disgusting feelings. A nice piece of Brie would've perked her up, but I have to admit that your methods worked, too."

Adrien sniffs and chuckles. "Okay, buddy. I get it." His eyes still betray an ocean of hurt, but Adrien's soft smile seems genuine.

Plagg has never quite understood human emotion, though he's seen it all in his many centuries among humanity. He's also seen the myriad ways humans cover up one emotion with another (and another, and another, and sometimes destructive behaviors and very dark paths). He doesn't much enjoy dealing with human feelings, but he when it comes to masks, he prefers the very stylish ones he manifests on his holders' faces, changing with the times and his whims and his holders' thoughts. It's been a long time since he had a holder whose civilian life necessitated so many different masks. No wonder he eats so much Camembert to recharge - it's exhausting just watching it.

"What I'm saying, kitten...er, kid, is that your bug needs you. Paris needs you. And I know that because creation always needs destruction." He snorts a laugh. "That's a fact that's bigger than both of us."

"Yeah, you're right. I know you're right." Adrien sighs and stands to pull back the covers and turn out the light. He climbs in bed and heaves another sigh as his head hits the pillow. "I just wish she'd let me help her. I...I know she's going through something."

Plagg settles on the pillow next to Adrien's, in the Camembert-infused spot where he sleeps. "Being a guardian kind of sucks. It used to be a whole big thing - years of training and ceremonies and shaving your head in a weird pattern..."

Adrien breathes a laugh in the darkness.

"Did you just imagine your beloved bug with her pigtails cut off and a bald spot shaved into her head?"

"Plagg! How dare you?" comes the reply, but his laughter betrays him. Yeah, he's totally picturing it.

Plagg smiles. "What I mean is, you know her. As much as you can, at least. She's told you over and over how important you are to her. I hear all that mushy crap, you know. I don't think she means to hurt you." A pause. "If she does, she'll regret it," he mutters.

"Please don't threaten my future wife, Plagg."

"Still?"

"Still what?"

Plagg blinks. Adrien blinks, then finally catches up.

"Oh. Well." He takes a deep breath. "I'm...a little upset about some things. But I'm sure we can work it out. People make mistakes. Besides, just because someone hurts you doesn't mean you stop loving them, Plagg."

He wouldn't trade Adrien and his tender heart for the world, but sometimes Plagg wishes he was already a bit more jaded when he slipped the ring on his finger that first day. He doesn't want to witness the moment his holder's gentle spirit is finally crushed by what he knows better than most is a very cruel world.

For a long moment, Plagg considers his answer and finally chooses sarcasm. He shrugs. "You can always just cataclysm their prized possessions. That works, too."

That startles a laugh from his holder, tired and tinged with emotion, but a laugh nonetheless. Plagg considers it a win.

They settle into silence. Adrien's eyes close sleepily. Plagg considers getting another wedge of cheese now that his stomach has calmed down a little, but the thought that this is far from over makes his indigestion flare again. Love is messy and inconvenient, the Cancoillotte cheese of emotions. But, he supposes, looking at his holder in the dark, it's worth the difficulty.

Adrien's eyes open suddenly to meet Plagg's glowing green.

"Thanks for talking to me, buddy. I'm sorry I—"

Plagg zips over to his holder before he can finish the sentence, tucking his little body into the crook of Adrien's neck and starting up a loud purr.

"You're welcome. You owe me so much cheese."

Adrien laughs again, and Plagg purrs louder when he reaches up to scratch behind his tiny ears.

"Reblochon again?"

Plagg stifles a laugh at the fact that he has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's feelings before realizing how sad it is that he...well, has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's emotions. Someday, when his holder is on his own and out from under the tyrannical rule of his asshole father, Plagg has every intention of cataclysming Gabriel's entire atelier, including his tablet and any backup drives. He dreams about it sometimes. Just watching the world burn. It'll be beautiful.

He sighs wistfully before answering. "I was thinking Époisses."

Adrien groans. "Plagg, no. It's so gross."

"Plagg, yes. Feelings are gross. Cheese is life."

Another sigh. "Fine. I'll order it in the morning."

Silence falls over them again, this time comfortable and warm. When Adrien's breathing evens out, Plagg heads over to the cupboard for a snack. By the time he's eaten two more wedges of Camembert and thought about the whole situation, he's decided to pay Pigtails and his other half a visit. This can't continue. They're all headed for catastrophe, and no one wants to see what he'll do if this breaks his kitten.

He takes a wedge of cheese for the road and heads for the window, but something makes him stop before he phases through. He turns back to look at his sleeping holder. The moonlight shines through the windows, casting shadows like prison bars across the room, across the bed, across his kitten. Plagg thinks suddenly of Adrien waking up alone, his kwami nowhere to be found, and realizes he can't just leave.

He sighs. He's sighed so many times tonight.

Plagg tosses the cheese in the air and catches it expertly, swallowing it in one gulp, then makes his way back to the bed.

Tomorrow, he'll find a way to phase into Pigtails' bag during homeroom for a much-needed discussion with Tikki. He doesn't want to - he really doesn't want to - but Plagg intends to do his part to fix this. Holders like his come once in a very, very long lifetime. Adrien is worth it.

He settles again on his cheese-scented pillow and curls up, wrapping his tail snugly around his body. Soon his purr matches the rhythm of Adrien's quiet breathing, and peace, however temporary, falls gently over the two of them once more.

[katzkinder]

Tarte Tatin

[Here's the follow up to "Strawberry Madeleine" I said I'd do! 🥳 Feat: Tsurugi getting all the presents. All of them. And a very special gift from Freya.]

Tsurugi can’t remember the last time he was so excited for his birthday.

Actually, that’s a lie. He absolutely can. The last time was when he turned twenty and had gone out, ID in hand and stupid grin on his face, to buy as much beer as Yumikage’s credit card could handle as the first official adult of their little trio (or as much as the clerk would let him purchase). Two bikes, three idiots, and three cases of cheap beer, all pedaling towards the ocean on a beautiful, moonlit night, not a cloud in the sky.

The only thing that had dampened his mood then was the heat of Yumikage’s back against his as he stared up at the sky, at the moon, and recalled the promise he had asked his friend to make, and the offer of freedom he had turned down.

Neither of those things were a problem anymore.

Never again would Hod have to worry over killing Baldr to save him from himself.

~~~

The venue is, of course, Yumikage’s apartment. The walls are thick, the living room is large, and there’s no one there but him to bother if they get rowdy (aside from the neighbors, but Tsurugi never cared much for what they thought).

Most importantly, though, it’s a familiar place. Every year, ever since Yumikage started living in the high end apartments, each of them would have their birthday there. It was also the place Tsurugi went to when he no longer had a home, his best friend opening his own to him, and Tsurugi had felt so guilty, had been so worried, about what that change would mean for them.

As it turned out... It didn’t mean much at all.

Of course, with his weird sense of boundaries and how touchy he can get with people he likes, other people might not agree. --Especially when he and Yumikage still shared a bed.

~~~

All the guests had arrived. First, of course, were Jun, Takuto, and surprisingly, Jun’s parents. Tsurugi had hefted Takuto onto his hip, chirping at them all to come in, and led them to the living room where they had prepared snacks, drinks, big, big bowls of pretty much everything you would need for a party. Chips and dips and little trays of veggies, big two liters of soda and a store bought cake chilling in the fridge, hard candies and caramels, even a crummy cheese platter with little tiny sausages and crackers.

Next had been Freya, Iduna, and the two subclasses Takuto had taken to calling his uncles, much to their delight. Opening the door, he’d been met with three party poppers being set off in his face, Iduna, Gil, and Ray shouting their congratulations at him while he had stood there, stunned, trying to process the colorful streamers and confetti now decorating his head, shoulders, and the entry hall. Soon, though, he was laughing, dragging them all in by the arms while Freya shook her head and tried not to look too fond, a gentle scolding on her lips while C3’s ace inventor promised to clean up the mess herself.

Four presents joined the pile, and four more members of his family joined the festivities.

Finally came the Sloth pair, Kuro and Mahiru, and the gift he had been told to open immediately. The one that almost made him cry. So small, so little, so… Perfect.

Turning to bring them back to the group, Tsurugi thought to himself, All these people… Are happy I was born.

At that point, the tears he had been holding back started to overflow, quickly dripping down his face and onto the floor, much to the Sloth pair’s worry. Even Kuro, as blank faced as he normally kept himself, was clearly startled. Clearly worried. About him.

It only made the tears come faster.

“Uwah! Tsurugi-san?! Why are you crying!”

A watery laugh, quickly wiping his face on the back of his hand while Mahiru crowded closer to fuss. “I’m just glad you’re all here is all…!”

Ah. How embarrassing.

~~~

As it turned out, they didn’t need that second, store bought cake at all. The one Mahiru had brought with him, had made himself from scratch, was more than enough. There were even leftovers, sitting happily in Yumikage’s fridge and waiting to be devoured the next day.

And, of course, after cake came presents.

Jun’s parents had given him a new set of chopsticks, glossy black ones patterned with colorful paper cranes, and a matching paper crane shaped ceramic rest to go with them. From Gil and Ray, he’d received a new wallet, smelling of leather and, frankly, making him too nervous to ask if it was genuine or not. Such an expensive gift was… Not something he deserved, he felt, but he’d accept it gratefully nonetheless. From Takuto, he’d gotten the most adorable little wolf themed coin purse, as well as a handmade card. Jun gave him a new to go mug. Yumikage had grinned, sliding him a little box containing earrings that sparkled and showe and Tsurugi very nearly leapt at him if it weren’t for his idiot friend clarifying “They’re fake, dumbass. You like sparkly stuff though, right?”

“Don’t scare me like that!” he had complained, swatting Yumikage on the chest while the other man had snickered to himself. Really, he should have known better.

And now, he is here, with Iduna thrusting a misshapen gift into his arms with the biggest, most excited grin.

… He hopes it doesn’t blow up.

Tearing the bright, shiny paper away reveals a pillow shaped like a strawberry, red fading into pink and green leaves at the top. The smell immediately slaps him in the face and he wastes no time burying himself in it, a reverent, “It’s so soft…!” on his lips that make the people around him giggle. “Jun-chan, feel how soft it is!”

“I modified a pillow I bought for you!” Iduna gushes, and Tsurugi’s attention snaps to her, her cheeks just as rosy as his no doubt are with elation. “Freya helped me add a little pocket with velcro so I could put a scent pack inside! Also it’s made with memory foam so you can squish it as much as you want and it’ll always go back to it’s proper shape! Oh, and, here’s the remote, cuz I added a temperature change feature, too, so it’s never too hot or too cold and…” A hand on her shoulder has her chattering trailing off and she peeks at Ray, who seems to be holding back laughter. “Ah, oops! Sorry...” A sheepish chuckle, the girl wilting ever so slightly. “I just got so excited from your reaction…”

“I love it,” Tsurugi assures her, squeezing the gift tight. “Iduna-chan’s so smart! I’d be excited to give this to somebody, too!”

Iduna perks up once more, back to her beaming smile, and Freya… Nudges her present forward. For some reason, she looks nervous, and Tsurugi reaches for it curiously.

“Lately, I’ve been… Looking into making jewelry,” she explains, arms folded across her chest and black gloved fingers digging into her skin, awaiting Tsurugi’s response as he slides back the cover on the box. “Iduna showed me how to work with some of her tools, like things for cutting metal…”

“Freya…” Tsurugi breathes, cutting what he now realizes are anxious ramblings over having an overlapping gift short, “You made these?” In that little aqua colored box, with its white ribbon and bow so cutely done on top, are a set of earrings. Where Yumikage’s had been studs, these would dangle, little seashells carefully connected to ribbon by a simple loop of gold and a single bead, the same yellow as his eyes. Picking one up, the deep, navy colored ribbons, satin finish, flutter delicately. “They’re beautiful…”

He glances away from his gift just in time to see Freya start to turn pink. He swallows, wets his lips, and carefully, carefully, brings the box closer to his chest. “I can really have this? Like, really really?”

“Of course you can,” Freya answers, relaxing ever so slightly. “I made them for you.”

Right. That’s right. These were… Made especially for him. Him, Kamiya Tsurugi, twenty seven years old today. This gift… Is his. It’s his alone.

… Oh. That’s right. Back then… Freya had asked for…

I don’t have anything I can give to you…

You have two of these. Maybe you can give me one.

We… Except this body… Have nothing else to call our own. Aside from that… There is nothing I can offer.

In this world… Exists things that you should share and bear the burden of with other people, as well as things you yourself must treasure. You must… Understand which is which.

A… Are you angry...?

I am.

Back then, he had told her… That he had given up. Back then, what she had wanted… Was for him to take her hand. In the end... He hadn't. But they were happy.

“... Freya. Are you proud of me? I finally… Grew up!” I finally got angry. I finally fought back.

“... I am. Very, very, proud.”

[snek-snacc-ficc]

Fare and Unfairness

Summary: As the embodiment of Greed, Janus is no stranger to doing whatever he pleases to satisfy his desires. A craving for delicious food is one such desire with an especially simple remedy, that just so happens to come with the added bonus of visiting Patton.

Pairings: Moceit, implied Intrulogical

Words: 2,010

Janus didn't have a problem taking what he wanted when he wanted it. It was a given being the physical incarnation of Greed. But, sometimes, the sheer effort of having to maneuver his way to his prize was more than he was willing to give. Perhaps it was just another example of his self-serving ways, wanting to hoard everything including his own time. If asked outright he'd jokingly suggest that he suffered the same issue that afflicted Logan, the only one of them who represented two Sins, and that a part of Sloth still remained with him from the time when all seven Sins were the same being. In truth, it simply mattered little to him how he obtained what he desired as long as he obtained it at all. If someone was going to hand him what he wanted on a silver platter he was in no place to complain. Which is why he found himself in the kitchen of Patton's earthly residence when he was hit with a particularly strong craving for lavish wines and rich food, not wanting to bother with wasting hours searching for a human with enough skill to make it for him.

"Hmm," Patton looked thoughtfully at both bottles in his hands. "Would you prefer Bordeaux or Rioja?"

Janus eyed the dishware set hanging atop the wall above the sink with a much too admiring look. "Whatever you think is best, my dear," he said, waving offhandedly. "Is that design made of real gold?"

"What?" Patton asked, glancing up to where Janus's gaze laid. "Oh, yes! More for show than anything, but it sure is pretty."

"Indeed." Janus slowly trailed his eyes away and back to Patton.

Patton didn’t react to his guest looking like he was plotting to rob him blind, much more enthralled with choosing a wine. He observed both bottles for another moment, before shrugging and setting both on the dining table. "Well no harm in splurging a bit, why not both?" he chirped, reaching to the counter for a wine glass for each of them.

Janus chuckled lightly. "Always such a generous host. I'm surprised the Angels haven't made an exception and taken you as one of their own."

Patton huffed, giving the corkscrew a firm twist. "You would think, wouldn't you? Out of all the things in humanity to make a Sin, the Heavens choose a harmless little thing like Gluttony."

"Oh?" Janus quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a hint of bitterness I hear from such a seemingly sweet-heart? Do you think yourself Holier than the rest of us?"

"Of course not!" Patton insisted. "Frankly, I think all of their rules are foolish in some way. But out of all the things to punish, why a little self-indulgence?" He went for the Spanish wine first, pouring a glass for Janus and then one for himself. He took his own seat at the opposite end of the table and gave a snap of his fingers. In an instant the table was filled with trays of food. A beautiful, dripping prime rib sat at the center, surrounded by sides of creamy mashed potatoes and gravy, Yorkshire pudding, garlic-parsnip purée, and an assortment of vegetables prepared in nearly every way imaginable, from roasted to slathered in butter and sauteed with bacon.

Janus nearly moaned at the feast in front of them, the heavenly smells wafting through the air further confirming in his mind Patton's skills to be far more angelic than infernal. He took the time to fold his cloth napkin in his lap, and not hesitating a second longer on filling his plate.

"Continue Dear," he said, spooning out a healthy portion of truffled brussel sprouts. "I don't think I've ever heard anything akin to frustration from you until now and I'm curious to hear more. What brought all this on?"

"It's nothing much, I suppose," Patton said as he began to carve into the meat. "It's just I had a run-in with that Emile a few weeks ago and I swear it sets me off everytime I see them. You know they-"

Janus almost choked, wearing a rare expression of genuine concern he'd never dare let anyone but Patton see. "I wouldn't call an encounter with a Head Angel 'nothing much!' They didn't try anything with you, did they?"

"No, no, nothing happened," Patton said quickly to quench his fears, "I heard their lot has been trying to keep the peace with our bunch. They don't want to cause any other-worldly problems when they can hardly handle this new plague on Earth, or whatever the humans are calling it."

Janus's face melted back into relaxation.

The corners of Patton's mouth twitched upward at the subtle display. Notes of true affection from Janus were few and far between, so much so he doubted anyone but him ever picked up on them, but he cherished those moments where the other let bits of his heart slip through the cracks of his usual facade.

"Anyway," he continued, "They looked like they had an apprentice with them. Remy, I think his name was. I'd never seen him before and mistook him for just another human in the park with his true form covered."

Janus clicked his tongue. "Consciousness Darling, you have to work on it."

“I was getting to that,” Patton said indignantly. “It just so happens I had gotten my hands on a box of these lovely gourmet chocolates I was dying to try and got a little...distracted.”

Janus brought a forkful of mushroom risotto to his lips, barely holding back a smile. “Ah, I see. Completely understandable.”

“And you know what,” Patton said, ignoring the sarcastic quip, “I hadn’t even set out that day to tempt anyone. I thought: Why not leave the humans alone, just this once? They create plenty of Sin on their own, no help from me necessary.” He poured himself another glass of wine, the passion in his voice a testament to how much the alcohol was already starting to affect him. “So when I spot this kid looking around everywhere all disoriented I decided to offer him a chocolate. One, single, completely innocent chocolate, just to perk him up a little cause he looked like he needed it. And right when I go up to him, Emile swoops in from out of nowhere and knocks the box right out of my hands, telling me to stop trying to tempt their pure apprentice like I do the humans.”

Janus gave a sound of acknowledgment. “And how exactly did this specific incident set you off down this ‘Gluttony shouldn’t be sinful’ path?”

“It’s the principle of it Janus! To think that they view such a minor indulgence as a bad thing. And then they hold the humans to the same standard. They have such short, insignificant little lives, and they waste it on concepts like ‘moderation,’ and ‘dieting,’ hoping it’ll be enough to please those stuck-ups. Humans, more than anyone, should be able to soak up every last bit of pleasure from their cuisine while they can. Why, if I were a human, I’d eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.”

By the time the tirade was over Janus had cleared his plate. He polished off the last bit of his wine and released a satisfied sigh. “You already do that Dear,” he said, taking on a soft, sympathetic tone. “And it’s no use lamenting the sorrows Heaven inflicts on humanity; Just be grateful we can nudge them towards their own pleasure once in a while.”

“I guess so.” Patton sulked while finishing his own meal and snapping the table clean.

“Funny,” Janus teased in an attempt to get Patton’s mind on something else, “I wouldn’t have thought you the type to forget dessert.”

As expected, his energy brightened up at the mention. “You’re right, I never asked you what you wanted. Any preferences?”

Janus thought through various options, drumming his fingers on the table. “I was rather partial to that lava cake we had in France.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a dessert plate with the cake appeared in front of him.

“Toppings?” Patton asked, already doctoring up his own cake with whipped cream and berries.

“Just powdered sugar, thank you.”

A silver shaker popped up next to his plate. He took it, sifting only a small sprinkle overtop before cutting into the miniature cake. It was even more moist than he remembered, and the center of molten chocolate oozing out was the perfect viscosity. It only took one bite for him to conclude that even the five-star Parisian restaurant they had visited didn’t hold a candle to the food Patton could create on a whim.

“Have you heard from any of the other’s lately?” He asked, eager to get the ball rolling for a bit of after-dinner gossip (his personal favorite topic of conversation).

Patton shook his head. “I haven’t had the chance to. Aside from you, I’ve only seen Virgil recently, and that was months ago.”

A delighted, devilish smirk blossomed on Janus’s face. “So I take it you haven’t heard about the...hard time Logan has had as of late.”

“No, is he okay?” Patton asked, voice laced with worry, “What happened?”

“He’s just fine,” Janus said, reveling in the anticipation, “Let’s just say that it appears there’s a reason he’s so fond of the color blue.”

He recounted the entire story Roman had told him about Logan’s budding temptation towards Lust, much to Patton’s shock and amusement.

“I never would have expected those two,” Patton said, getting up and waving away their dishes once they were finished, “But I’m happy for them. It sounds like they’re enjoying themselves.”

Janus hummed in agreement, stretching as he too stood up. “The food was wonderful as always Darling, thank you,” he said, leaning over to give Patton a gentle peck on the cheek.

His face, already flushed from the wine, turned a shade darker. “Leaving so soon?”

“You know the drill,” Janus replied, “Temptations to be made, Angels to corrupt, humans to swindle. Perhaps if I’m feeling especially virtuous I’ll borrow you a gift from somewhere in return for the lovely meal.”

Patton, who had been sinking into the other’s touch, suddenly jerked back. “That reminds me,” he said, “Wait just a second.” He snapped once and a gift bag filled with glittery tissue paper materialized in his hand. “Here.”

Confused, Janus peeled away the top layers of the tissue paper, peeking inside. Everything was sealed up tightly in bubble wrap, but through the translucent covering he could make out a familiar design. He looked up above the sink where the gold accented dish set from earlier had hung, the wall now dotted only with semi-visible outlines of where it had once been.

Patton giggled at his surprise. “You aren’t nearly as sly as you think you are,” he said. “And I don’t care whether I eat off of solid diamond or a paper plate as long as the food is good, so they’re really no use to me.” He winked. “Besides, I think I actually quite enjoy feeding your desires.”

There was a beat where Janus simply stared stunned and silent at Patton, who, in turn, looked to him with all the tenderness in the world.

Janus moved with his free hand, rushing forward to cup Patton's face and connecting their lips in a deep kiss.

“Every single being in Heaven is an idiot for not making you one of their own,” Janus whispered when they had just barely parted.

“Maybe not,” Patton said lightly, “Maybe they have incredible foresight. In any existence I would have ended up Falling for you anyway.”

Janus pulled them in for another kiss, pushing his previous priorities to the back of his mind. He was Greed after all, it was only natural for him to go after his desires. And if what he wanted was right in front of him for the taking then he certainly wasn’t going to refuse the offer.

---

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you're interested in this AU I do plan on creating a collection of one-shots for it, so be sure to be on the lookout for those.

Here's just a couple quick notes on the writing itself that I thought might be confusing:

-Fare, as written in the title, refers to food.

-The "Sins" in this AU were once combined into a single physical being. However, as humanity grew in size it became increasingly harder for one being to manage the responsibilities for all seven Sins at once. The internal conflict caused a split to occur, with individual vessels being created for each Sin. The only exception is Logan, who represents both Wrath and Envy. The two Sins compliment each other well, so it's easy for them to work in tandem as one. A similar occurrence happened with Pride and Lust (Roman and Remus) at first, but ultimately fell apart later on.

-The color blue, referenced in the short mention of Logan near the end, is often attributed as the color of lust.

[ellenripleysbelieveitornot]

What about an Akechi/Joker role swap AU where Akechi is still the detective prince and Joker is still the Shujin delinquent, but the major difference is that Morgana never lost his memories and found Akechi before he approached Shido with his metaverse assassination plot?

Like, imagine Akechi, bitter and jaded, who has just awakened Loki and felt the terrifying and thrilling rush of the berserk power. He's formed a plan to get back at his piece of shit father, even managed to set up a meeting, which he had to set up months in advance, and on the day he's going to present Shido with info on the metaverse, he winds up arriving a few minutes late, because even though he intended to be early, he was accosted by a talking cat (he's been in the metaverse, so he can hear him) on the way over, and in the whole wtf-ery of the moment, lost track of time. Shido, being Shido, refuses to see him and will not reschedule because he doesn't like having his time wasted.

Pissed off, Akechi leaves to find Morgana still waiting for him outside. So he doesn't look like an idiot yelling at a cat on the street, he brings Morgana back to his shitty apartment, where Morgana explains why he had found Akechi and whats up. He doesn't know about Yaldobaoth taking Igor's place, he just knows there's two champions, and Akechi was the one he found first, so he must be Igor's chosen champion. (It is my theory that it doesn't actually matter who was Igor's and Yaldobaoth's champions, it was more about the choices they each made and where they ended up.) 

Akechi has no interest in saving the world, but he knows that if he wants to get back at Shido, he needs to become someone of consequence, so he agrees to undergo Morgana's training, since Morgana clearly knows more about the metaverse than he does, and he can use it to solve cold cases, earning him a place as the Detective Prince. He changes a few hearts, to pacify Morgana, too. It takes a couple years, but during his senior year in high school, he makes it, earning himself the cooperation of the police and the spotlight of the public eye. He's getting so close to making Shido notice him that he can practically taste it. Also, what’s this ‘velvet room’ he keeps dreaming about?

Then Morgana finds Kamoshida’s palace and is like ‘heyo, you thought changing hearts in the metaverse was cool, check this shit out’ and Akechi is admittedly intrigued , so he takes a look. He sees the inside of Kamoshida’s heart and is appropriately disgusted and says to Morgana, ‘hey we should totally kill this guy’s shadow.’ Morgana’s like ‘why is your first suggestion always murder, we don’t know what would happen if we killed his shadow, Igor wasn’t very clear about that bit, we should try stealing the treasure instead’ and Morgana has been useful (and it’s been really nice to have the company these past two years, though he won’t admit that) so Akechi agrees ‘fine, we’ll steal the treasure, but if that doesn’t work, then I’m killing his shadow.’

And that’s when Ryuji and Ann make an appearance (’ohmigawd, goro, be more careful with that damn app, i s2g.’) Ryuji’s mom apparently thinks Akechi is pretty neat and watches all his interviews, so Ryuji knows who he is and is delighted to find out that the lame-ass detective his mom has talked about is actually a grumpy badass in the metaverse, with this shadow that has some kind of insane power, and hey, he helped them bring down Kamoshida (alive,) so maybe he is actually pretty cool, even though sometimes he spaces out and talks about evil twins and some longed-nose dude. He decides then and there that he’s going to be Akechi’s best friend, since he apparently has none, and Ann is all too happy to join in for the ride, and all of Goro’s protests have fallen on deaf ears, and they know about the whole detective prince thing being a facade, so he might as well indulge them for now. 

The ‘Phantom Thieves’ (a name that makes Goro want to roll his eyes whenever he hears it, and why is everyone calling him ‘leader?’) gain fame and change hearts, gaining new members such as this weird-ass artist dude who fights with ice, and oh, god, one Nijima is bad enough, don’t tell me there’s two! and she uses nukes, wtf?!

Around this time, he also meets Shujin’s delinquent, enigmatic transfer student whose talk of hope and justice never quite seem to reflect in his stormy grey eyes, and he and Goro are clearly birds of a feather in a way, he can tell, there’s just something about him, and he thinks this guy might actually be his best friend, but don’t tell Ryuji that, he’d never hear the end of it.

Akechi learns the truth behind Akira’s arrest and Shido’s involvement and he is disgusted to find that he genuinely wants to help this guy, and he can’t do that if Shido’s dead, maybe he doesn’t want his revenge as badly as he thought??? Oh, ew, I have feelings that aren’t anger and it’s all my friends’ fault, I can’t just leave them and go off to get revenge, they’d literally die without me, those lovable idiots. Also, when Ryuji saw his home, he pretty much insisted he stay with him instead, and Ryuji’s mom reminds him of the good times he had with his own mother, and he honestly doesn’t think he has the strength to disappoint her like that. So, he decides to change Shido’s heart, but he knows that there’s no way that this little group of miscreants is strong enough to take on the fucked up bullshit that he’s seen in Shido’s heart, so let’s hit pause on that for now.

Shido had Wakaba killed via completely non-supernatural ways and stole her research, same as before, so Futaba still has a palace. He found out Akira worked at Leblanc a while ago and started dropping by, and then somehow Ryuji found out about it, and now all the Phantom Thieves know, so much for a peaceful place to get away, but he actually doesn’t mind that much, and Akira lets Akechi keep an eye on the shop when there are no customers so he can go out and do errands and Boss doesn’t mind, so they’ve ended up hanging out there as a group from time to time and talking Phantom Thief business, so Futaba knows who they are, and asks for their help.

Okumura’s palace pretty much goes the same, Okumura dies somehow, are we responsible, why does murder actually make me feel kinda bad, stupid friends and their stupid good influence. 

Goro attends the Shujin student fair as guest speaker, whoa, the class president being friends with Akechi does have its perks, doesn’t it? Akira finds them all there together and approaches them, tells them he saw them go into the metaverse, awakened his own persona, and saw a guy in a black mask kill Okumura’s shadow, hey why don’t I join you, you probably need all the help you can get, who’s heart are we stealing next, how about Sae, she knows my probabtion officer and has been giving me hell, plus I already checked, she definitely has a palace.

They agree, and oh, hey, Akira can hear Morgana talk now, but WAIT A MINUTE?! Didn’t he hear Morgana talk before when he told Goro that Leblanc didn’t sell sushi, even though Goro hadn’t asked for any?

They hack Akira’s phone, learn that Shido (Akechi recognizes that voice) will have thugs waiting to capture them when they leave the palace. They plan around it, pull the metaverse switch and manage to sneak a heavily drugged Akechi out of the warehouse Shido stashed him in by traveling through the metaverse. Shido’s lackey’s have written a fake suicide letter from the leader of the Phantom thieves, and the chief of police, under Shido’s orders, delivers a statement confirming its authenticity, and look the plan succeeded. All they need to do know is take down Shido.

Things are going great, until they get to the engine room, where Joker, having realized what happened, is waiting for them. Joker, who lost everything after he transferred, who discovered the metaverse completely alone, who didn’t mean to kill that guy’s shadow, but he attacked him first, and Shido had somehow known, had been keeping an eye on him, had him convicted for a crime that he didn’t commit in the hopes that he would break because he needed an agent in the metaverse, and so far he’s had no luck. Joker, who had nothing left to lose and had accepted the only hand that had reached out for him.

They fight, and when it looks like things are going badly for Joker, he pulls out... a second persona?!?! At least, it looks like a persona, but something about it is off. it looks familiar somehow. And then Akira asks if they knew it was possible to fuse personas and Akechi realizes what he’s looking at. These aren’t the clean executions that Caroline and Justine perform, these are personas that have been ripped apart and haphazardly thrown back together with no thought to form or elegance, look, there’s a Yaksini’s arm, and that bit right there clearly used to belong to a Rangda, and I think that piece might have belonged to a Seiryu, and Akechi should stop listing personas now because Ann thinks she’s going to be sick.

They keep fighting. Joker can’t understand the difference in power between them. After all, aren’t they the same? Unloved, unwanted, soldiers pitted against each other by some bullshit higher power?

When Joker shoots the bulkhead door closed and Futaba reports that she’s lost Joker’s reading, Akechi vows then and there that he’s going to kill Shido after all. And he almost does. He stands there, with his gun pressed to the head of the shadow of his father, his friends can’t blame him, and even Morgana knows better than to try and stop him. But he doesn’t. He remembers Akira’s madness there at the end, and wonders what he would have become of him if it weren’t for Ryuji, who somewhere along the way, he’d realized he’d stopped tolerating and started actually liking. Ann, who shared his woes about being in the public eye and swapped tips with him about how to handle the press. Yusuke, who, although he was still completely bizarre to him, appreciated the beauty in life and didn’t tease Goro for his taste in Grandpa clothes. Makoto, who knew the importance of hard work and who, between herself and her sister, had caused Goro to pick up some healthier coping mechanisms. Futaba, who made fun of him for his food blog, but liked the same nerd bullshit that he did and would bombard him with memes until his day somehow became a little less shittier. Haru, who dreamed of starting her own business and actually cared about Goro’s opinions, and could threaten someone with a smile in a way that even Goro was jealous of. And Morganna, who had reminded him what it was like to not be lonely, and demanded more sushi than he could afford, but always made sure Goro ate his fill, instead of getting so focused on his work that he forgot.

Akechi guesses that he must have turned soft somewhere during the past several months, but after seeing what happened to Akira, he can’t help but be grateful, knowing with certainty that if things had turned out differently, that would have been him. Hey, Morgana, you know that world-saving bs you talked about two years ago? Let’s leave this piece of shit here to rot and focus our attention on that instead.

And you guys know the rest.

Or, at least, that’s how I thought it would go. Feel free to share your thoughts. :)

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.3

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (3k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, depictions of graphic violence

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 5 

Your feet pace back and forth. 

It must have been two, three‒maybe four days? You can’t recall anymore. All that remains in your memory is hours of roaming the long hallways of the house, nearly close to memorizing the amount of lights from the ceiling, or the multiple portraits set aside in one particular hall, lining together every head that came after Namjung. 

You know every room colour, every room door, every speck of dust that lingers behind, but you’re nowhere close to transparently knowing the shareholder’s inside out. 

Not having their favour means no communication. No communication means no reports are sent back, the static box still stored and hidden away. 

Your bottom lip has become battered from your constant chewing, losing track of how many circles you’ve paced at this point. 

And yet, it isn’t very difficult for you to decipher the exact reason for your distress. 

The shareholders don’t want you around. The moment you stayed during their meeting was off putting enough for them and Namjoon's sudden interest for you to be vocal about your father’s intentions had piercing glares thrown in your direction. 

But you’ve been assigned a task and you have to accomplish it, regardless of their desires. 

Sucking in a deep breath, the sound of the doors to your bedroom wrenching open completely fails your attempt to calm down. 

Swiveling around, Namjoon stands in front of you, eyes wide with delight. 

“Oh, you’re here!” He quickly enters, striding over to you in an instant. “Is everything alright?” 

Realizing that you’re simply gawking at his abrupt presence, you hastily shake your head. 

“I-I was just surprised to see you.” 

He smiles warmly and for some reason, you immediately flush at the gesture. You wonder if there will ever be a day where you can get used to the constant tenderness his eyes hold. 

He raises his hand and you simply stare, until he leans closer to signal you. 

“Come with me.” 

Blinking, you cautiously take his hand, and he tugs you away, far from the confines of your room and into a place that makes it easier to breathe. 

***

A gust of a wind immediately hits you, the brisk breeze feeling cold yet exhilarating at the same time. It’s strength blows and ruffles your clothes, the flowers at the bottom of your feet delicately brushing up against your skin. 

You spin around with knitted brows, facing Namjoon who stands a distance away from you. He’s still clad in the suit he was wearing from work, but his eyes are closed, as if he was trying to absorb and completely immerse himself with the wind. 

A question sits on the tip of your tongue. 

“Why did you bring me here?” You nearly have to yell, the sound of the wind and the distance not aiding with your voice projection. Namjoon dreamily opens his eyes, walking over to you. 

“It’s my mother's garden.” He points to the flowers, a cascade beginning with white, down to lilac purple and petal pink, “They have a calming effect, don’t you think?” 

A strained smile remains on your lips, “I guess…” 

Namjoon takes a step closer to you, “I’m sorry.” 

You turn to him, eyebrows raised, “For the way the shareholders acted with you during our meeting, for putting you on the spot like that, and then leaving you alone for so many days even though we just got married‒” 

He abruptly pauses, a pondering finger left on his lips. 

“Wait, I don’t think this is enough of an apology, just give me a moment.” 

Spinning around as if to leave, your arm involuntarily reaches out and latches onto his suit’s jacket. 

He glances at you with surprise and you let go right away, awkwardly stifling back a cough. 

“I-Its‒...it’s okay.” 

Namjoon is frozen, teeter tottering between remaining by your side and leaving at once. After a moment however, he makes up his mind and leaves, before hurrying back with what would be adjacent to a small tree in his hands. 

There’s a frown on your lips when he presents it to you. 

“It’s a bonsai tree.” He quickly clarifies, “I got it a while ago and have been maintaining it since.” 

You hum, leaning closer to observe it. It’s best description would be a miniature tree, although now you notice the string of ethereal pink that wraps around the branches. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

A warm, knowing smile crosses Namjoon’s lips. He gestures for you to sit down, still holding onto the small tree. 

“So you mentioned you were raised in the outskirts of the country? And then went to the imperial academy?” 

You nod right away, “What was it like?” 

“Um…” You attempt to wrack through your mind for an answer, “My family didn’t have much but tried their best to raise me. I ended up going to the academy because they assumed I would be the next L/N head.” 

“Did you want to be the next head?” 

“Not really…” You fiddle around with the hem of your shirt, “I just went because my parents wanted me to.” 

“So you didn’t want to be involved with the business and you didn’t want to go to the academy?” Namjoon repeats, like he was trying to memorize the facts, “What did you want to do then?” 

You blink, staring at him wide eyed, “I don’t know….” There’s a cloud brewing above your head, fog spreading, “I guess...I never figured out what that was.” 

“Come on, there must be something.” He raises the tree in his hands, “No bonsai trees to look after?” 

A wide grin spreads across his features, yet your expression remains stoic and confused. His smile begins to deflate, and he lowers his arms, but an unexpected smile cracks across your lips, morphing into a lop-sided one. 

“There was one bonsai tree, but it wasn’t a plant, or a mini tree for that matter.” 

Namjoon eyes you in intrigue, as if you were telling a story that he was enraptured in. A genuine smile surfaces on your lips, fond memories emerging from the depths of your mind. 

“I used to love reading....with my father, every Saturday morning.” There’s a spark within your eyes, recalling the day you first peered into his library much to his own joy, “It was something he initially picked up on as a hobby and then later introduced to me. I still remember days where I used to be buried beneath books and my mother would scold my father for the habit.” 

A snicker leaves your lips, “I got into so much trouble once, I didn’t attend my classes at the academy to keep reading and I’d never seen my mother so furious.” 

There’s a ray of euphoria splashing over your features, eyes brimming with excitement and bliss. You can’t believe you can still remember these memories, memories that are years old and only consist of absolutely innocent times. 

Times in which you were allowed to indulge your natural curiosity instead of exploiting it. 

At that, your smile falls and you turn to Namjoon to apologize for your abrupt rambling, but your breath hitches in your throat. He’s extremely close to you, only a mere inches away, and although there’s a small tree sitting in his arms, the look in his eyes is enough to draw your attention. 

You awkwardly cough, looking away with a flush spreading over your skin. 

“W-Why are you asking me all these questions?” 

Namjoon blinks, as if broken from a trance. 

He meekly smiles, “We’re married now, but there’s still so much I don’t know about you…” 

You swivel around, eyes completely wide. The loose dots clumsily connect, but it’s enough for you to understand his intention behind bringing you out here. 

He’s shared a piece of himself with you, in hopes that you’ll share a piece of yourself with him. 

Namjoon gets up holding the tree, offering you his hand. You stare at it for a mere moment, a thousand thoughts swimming through your mind. 

Cautiously taking his hand, you have to remind yourself that this is all a simple mission ‒ nothing more, nothing less. 

***

Namjoon takes you across the garden, pointing out the various flowers that he’s aware of, while you trail behind him and listen in. At one point his bonsai tree nearly falls from his hands when he trips over a sharp ledge, and you’re quick to offer your help in holding it. 

This results in your carrying of the small plant, and Namjoon’s deciding to let you know what he named it. 

“Cherry?” You repeat, knitting your brows together. 

Namjoon hums, “Like cherry blossom.” Pointing towards the string of pink you noticed before, you realize that the faint dust was indeed the emergence of new blossoms along the branch. “I have other ones too, and they all have names.” 

You perk your eyes up at that, continuing to slowly trail behind him. There’s something that uncomfortably itches at the back of your throat, the apprehensive feeling in your stomach increasing. 

The longer you’re here, following along with Namjoon and listening to his thoughtful words, the longer the mayhem increases. Red flares are exploding in your mind, and heaving ringing pounds through your skull, dragging you back before it’s too late. 

“Y/N?” 

You suddenly jolt from the proximity, realizing you’ve stopped in your tracks and that Namjoon is gazing at you with troubled eyes. You’re about to shake it off, mutter that you were just lost in thought, when a loud blare rings through the air. 

“Sorry.” Namjoon winces, hurriedly taking out his phone and swiping away the piercing sound. “Hello?” 

You peer down at the tree in your hands, curiously holding a branch between your fingers. “The deal’s been finalized? Already, Yoongi?” 

At the sound of the shareholder’s name, your head snaps up. Namjoon goes silent for a moment, before his voice dips into a lower tone. 

“I-I understand...I’ll be there soon.” The line is cut off, and he looks up at you, an apologetic smile forming on his lips. 

“I have to leave, it’s for an urgent matter.” He takes the plant from your hands, “I’m sorry.” 

You instinctively shift as he moves, grabbing onto his suit jacket like before. “I‒…” 

He pauses, eyes rounding. The naive look he holds makes you grimace, the lie easily slipping from your lips. “I-I really don’t want to be alone here….” 

Confusion dawns on him and you gaze down at the ground, attempting your best to mimic a somber expression. 

Namjoon tilts his head to the side and places a finger on his lips, as if he were deeply pondering. 

“I-I understand…” Although his words suggest it, he struggles with the implication. Relief floods through you, hoping that your professing is enough to sway him. 

However, the last thing you expect emerges from Namjoon. 

His tone drops a register and his piercing eyes flicker at you, holding onto an alluring yet ominous ambience to them. It sends shivers down your spine and you instinctively want to back away from him, caught off guard. 

“It won’t be pretty.” He sharply enunciates. Swallowing hard, you can only nod in response.

Without another look, he gestures for you to follow him. 

***

It would be a lie to say that you’re not knowledgeable about the Kim’s. 

However, to say that you’re too knowledgeable about them, would be most accurate and a fact that you’ve always been careful to conceal. 

The Kim’s manufacture weapons. They have far more connections that an octopus would have limbs, and they spread out everywhere, making deals left and right. 

However, these are simple facts. Easy to memorize and remember. 

And hurdles away from reality. 

The building is far from Namjoon’s office, and exhibits a strange bluish grey hue, almost as if it were abandoned for decades. Yet when Namjoon hurriedly paces ahead and the steel door creaks open, your jaw drops. 

It’s massive ‒ assembly lines running parallel and forklifts moving along to put up the heavy bundles of steel. It becomes clear to you in that one exact moment, of how much wealth the Kim family truly reigns over your heads. 

Your dilated pupils glance in Namjoon’s direction again and he’s occupied with opening a separate door, far from the catastrophic noise raising in the room. Following him inside into an expansive hall, you’re again confronted with the four individuals that seem to despise your very existence. 

Hoseok is the first one to scorn, stepping forward immediately. 

“You brought her with you?” He spits, eyes throwing daggers at your form from across the room. Namjoon intervenes in an instant, raising his hand. 

“She’s staying.” 

Hoseok appears to want to protest more, but instead remains silent with only a twitch of his nose and another glare in your direction. You’re taken aback from how he’s rendered mute, but Taehyung crosses his arms and focuses on you. 

“You better keep your mouth shut.” Brushing past you, he turns to Namjoon, his demeanor shifting. “We’ve just received the samples today.” 

Yoongi takes out a large briefcase and places it on the table before sliding it in Namoon. As he works his way through the codes on it, Jungkook begins handing Yoongi more of them, and he slides them along. 

The moment the first one is open, your heart rate spikes up. 

A colossal gun is encased within the soft black styrofoam, nearly double the size of your arm. It’s distressing structure includes a handful of large bullets, one of which Namjoon picks up and inspects. 

Tapping the side of the copper metal, his gaze narrows in intriguement, as if the bullet in his hand were a mere lightbulb. “What is it made of?” 

“Lead and antimony.” Yoongi clarifies, “It has long distance range.” 

Namjoon hums and your fists tighten, nails digging into the flesh of your palms. You had never imagined the Kim’s would be exploring these kinds of weapons, a weapon so fatal when their business has only ever focused on producing simple handguns. 

Apart from the severity of the new knowledge you’ve just obtained though, for some reason the glint in Namjoon’s eyes as he views them seems to frighten you more. 

His next question drains colour away from your skin. 

“Do they work?” 

Yoongi smirks like it’s a question that shouldn’t even be asked. Taehyung reaches over, swiftly grabbing onto the abundant gun and lining it with his shoulder. 

“Would you like to see?” He ponders, and Namjoon nods, backing away from him. Taehyung cranks back the hammer and closes one eye, directing his aim for the wall. 

You patiently wait for him to release it, expecting to hear a sudden spike in the breeze accompanied by a loud boom. But that’s when Taehyung shifts his feet, changing his angle with a small smirk dancing on his lips. 

Aiming straight for you. 

Your heart pounds in your ribcage and before you say anything in opposition, he releases the bullet. 

“….if you ever are found out, Y/N….. 

....at the split second in discovering your true nature….

....the Kim’s will not hesitate….

...they will never hesitate at the opportunity to dispose of you….” 

The sound of your palpitating heartbeat blares through your eardrums, breath completely halting. Save for the frozen state your body has entered, the sight of having all eyes glued to your form barely draws your attention. 

The bullet has whizzed right by you, landing on the wall you are standing in front of. 

Taehyung snickers. 

“It’s hard not to show off these precious babies when you have a L/N in the room.” He remarks and from afar, Hoseok shares his knowing look. 

“That’s enough.” Namjoon stomps over in Taehyung’s direction, grabbing the gun from his hands with a scowl. 

“What?” Taehyung innocently questions, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not everyday that you get to see a L/N in here.” 

He gyrates, facing you, “I was hoping a demonstration would have helped you understand how the Kim’s operate.” 

“Taehyung.” Namjoon warns again, but he saunters over to you, not fazed in the slightest. 

“How was your father planning to save the company again? By letting it drown first or by setting all his assets on fire?” 

His sharp eyes twinkle with amusement, brows narrowed as if he were observing you. There’s a handful of words prepared to spew from you, ranging from how he was completely wrong and downright conceited, but you bite your tongue back, recalling why you’ve persuaded Namjoon to bring you along in the first place. 

You clear your throat instead. 

“Well you know what they say,” A small smirk curls on your lips as you meet his gaze, “The L/N’s never did understand true power.” 

There’s no naivety leftover in your expression, no hint of hesitation remaining anymore. The card you’ve pulled out is one you’ve been taught rather than naturally embodied, and it’s one you’ve been persistent to never use. 

But you’re running of time and the only one to carry out your mission, is to wholeheartedly agree. 

Taehyung appears taken aback, prepared for a giant fire to be thrown his way that ends up only drowsed in complete water. Your response has rendered him speechless, but it’s not long before a smile begins to tug on his lips, the dark look in his eyes commending you for the statement. 

When he steps back, you notice the look of intriguement surfacing on every individual present ‒ save for the man you’ve been married to. 

Although you’re content that you’ve captured their attention, it’s hard to ignore the stunned eyes Namjoon sends your way.