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The waters trembled, the waves convulsing with restless energy.
From the fathomless depths of the dark blue sea, the
Songbird
emerged—slow, deliberate, and unrelenting. Clouds massed overhead, churning ominously as thunder shattered the silence. Streaks of orange and purple lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the chaos, while the waves surged higher, roaring with the fury of the storm.
The sea was alive, manic, a tempest born of divine will.
This ferocious spectacle announced the arrival of Hongjoong, a Demi-God and son of Taranis—the God of Thunder, Protector of the Celtic Pantheon, and master of foul weather and storms.
Hongjoong commanded his ship, the Songbird , a vessel imbued with his father’s divine power.
The ship gleamed like polished obsidian, its surface shimmering with iridescent hues each time lightning licked the sky. Its sails, black as midnight and emblazoned with the Chariot Wheel—Taranis’s symbol of mobility and might—snapped and billowed violently in the gale.
On the quarterdeck, Hongjoong stood before the wheel, which turned of its own accord, responding to his unspoken command as he bent the storm to his will. His dark silk shirt clung to him, unbuttoned to reveal a muscled torso, tucked into black pants secured with a cloth sash that hung against his right leg. Polished boots rose to his calves, and a discarded dark coat lay forgotten on the deck, soaked by the relentless spray. Upon his blue hair rested a silver crown of thorns, delicate but unyielding, with fine chains that swayed lightly despite the gale.
In his hand, he gripped his spear—a long silver shaft tipped with a blade honed to deadly perfection, crackling with lightning that flared blindingly when wielded.
Hongjoong stood unmoving amidst the chaos, his fiery orange eyes glowing like embers. Waves battered the deck, spraying him with seawater, but he remained steady, unyielding as the Songbird itself—a gift from his father, capable of traversing any sea, any realm, through hidden portals in the ocean depths.
The storm raged around him, yet he never faltered. Not a flinch at the deafening thunder, nor a blink at the lightning that illuminated his cold, unreadable expression.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips as his destination came into view.
Tír na nÓg.
Tír na nÓg. The Land of Youth. An island paradise, untouched by time. A supernatural realm of eternal beauty, boundless joy, and abundance beyond mortal comprehension.
Its residents were once of the
Tuatha Dé Danann
—the Tribe of Gods. Now, it was home to their descendants, as well as warriors and heroes granted eternal life and beauty for their deeds.
The Gods, once unified, had fractured and scattered across the Otherworld, their rivalries carving new domains within the ethereal realm that paralleled the Mortal World. The Otherworld housed all the divine beings, though Demi-Gods like Hongjoong could walk freely between realms, tethered to both but fully belonging to neither.
Hongjoong had spent his formative years in the Mortal World, living among humans, until a servant of his father brought him to the Otherworld. There, he learned to wield his powers and claimed the gifts his father had kept in reserve. Though he served Taranis as faithfully as any mortal servant, Hongjoong had never met the God himself. It didn’t matter. He embraced the role of his father’s enforcer, a tyrant of the seas, carrying out Taranis’s will with ruthless precision.
Taranis, the God of Thunder, was not evil. But in the fractured hierarchy of the divine, he sought to assert his dominance amidst the ever-simmering rivalries. Fear was his weapon, and Hongjoong was the blade.
Today’s task was no exception.
Hongjoong’s destination, Tír na nÓg, was not a place of idle pilgrimage. He was here with a purpose: to abduct Rhiannon’s son. The boy’s father had made an audacious move against the Triad—a powerful alliance of three deities that included Taranis. What the insult was, Hongjoong neither knew nor cared. A messenger had delivered the command, and he had obeyed without hesitation. Chaos was his calling, and this mission promised to be no different.
The Songbird surged forward as lightning tore across the heavens, striking the verdant land ahead. The once-serene paradise descended into chaos, its tranquility shattered by the approaching storm. The ship cut through the waves with purpose, nearing the shore as screams began to echo from the island.
To Hongjoong, the sound was nothing short of symphony. He smiled—a wide, maniacal grin—as the Songbird reached its destination, the tempest heralding his arrival.
The storm did not abate as Hongjoong descended onto the island. Though the waters around the Songbird had stilled with its master now ashore, the tempest raged on. Thunder boomed across the heavens, and lightning lashed out unpredictably, striking random points on the island as if guided by chaos itself.
Hongjoong strode through the verdant expanse of Tír na nÓg, its usual brilliance dulled under the storm’s oppressive gloom. The vibrant greens of the island’s eternal spring now appeared muted and shadowed, the ethereal beauty shrouded by the murkiness of heavy clouds and relentless rain.
This discord, this disruption of a sacred paradise, delighted him. Hongjoong reveled in the chaos he brought, in bending the magic of realms and Gods to his will. Tír na nÓg had known only tranquility, an untouched idyll of light and harmony. But now, with him here, it was a land in turmoil, the air crackling with fury and divine dissonance.
He knew where to go. The messenger had been clear; find a man adorned in gold, astride the whitest of horses, likely surrounded by the rarest and most beautiful birds.
Or something along those lines. Hongjoong hadn’t paid much attention.
Still, the description had been accurate enough.
As he approached a clearing within the lush gardens of the island, he spotted the figure in question. There was no horse in sight, but birds flocked around the man—a dazzling array of species in every shape and hue, their feathers shimmering even in the gloom of the storm.
Hongjoong paused, his sharp gaze locking onto the solitary figure perched at the edge of a small fountain. The man’s long, dark hair was tousled by the gale, the storm tugging at the delicate gold-wired crown resting atop his head, adorned with white feathers and beads that glimmered faintly in the dim light. A ribbon tied around his neck fluttered wildly in the wind.
He wore a shirt of the finest fabric, light in color against the brooding sky, its loose, oversized fit giving him an ethereal air. The flowing sleeves concealed his hands, draping over dark gold trousers tucked into ankle boots that caught the faintest gleam even under the storm’s shadow.
The man was gazing skyward, seemingly entranced by the tempest, his eyes alight with wonder. A serene smile graced his lips, unbothered by the chaos raging around him.
For a moment, Hongjoong hesitated, caught off guard. His eyes lingered, tracing the figure with an intensity he couldn’t immediately suppress.
Then a crack of thunder split the air, jolting him back to his purpose.
His brief awe twisted into something darker, and he masked his momentary distraction with a sinister grin.
Abducting the male had been almost disappointingly easy. Tír na nÓg , unprotected since the Gods had scattered, offered little resistance. Hongjoong had used a pinch of enchanted dust—one of many tools he’d acquired on his campaigns of cruelty—and the man had fallen unconscious in seconds.
Transporting him to the Songbird had been simple enough. Now, locked in a makeshift cell on the second-lowest deck, the male was just beginning to stir.
The cell was small, little more than a barred enclosure with a single, tiny window. The faintest hint of light seeped through, though it barely pierced the gloom. Thunderstorms always followed Hongjoong, blotting out the sun—a deliberate choice on his part. Storms made him feel safe.
“Finally awake?” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the quiet as the male sat up, brushing stray bits of hay from his clothes.
The man blinked at him in confusion. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“I am Hongjoong,” he answered simply.
The man’s gaze sharpened as he regained his bearings. “...Son of Taranis?”
“You’ve heard of me?” Hongjoong tilted his head, though he wasn’t surprised. His reputation preceded him.
The man shrugged, unnervingly calm for someone in his position. “Who hasn’t? People call you the Tyrant of the Seas.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “An undeserved title. I’m not a God of the seas.”
“Yet you control them.”
“I control storms. Storms affect the sea—that’s all,” Hongjoong retorted, then cursed inwardly. How had he ended up in a conversation with this man?
The male nodded as though that explanation satisfied him. “Right. So, why am I here?”
Hongjoong sighed, his patience already thinning. “Your father pissed off my father and his friends. I was sent to kidnap you as retaliation.”
The man frowned, puzzled. “My father? My father’s dead.”
Hongjoong blinked, momentarily thrown. “What?”
“Yeah,” the man said with a shrug.
Hongjoong’s expression darkened. “Aren’t you Rhiannon’s and Pwyll’s son?”
“I’m Rhiannon’s son,” the man clarified slowly, as if piecing together the misunderstanding himself. “But not Pwyll’s. My father’s from the Mortal World. Like you, I’m half-human. And, unlike you, half-fairy. I think the person you’re looking for is someone else. He doesn’t live on Tír na nÓg —he stays with his father, basically as his right-hand man. I only came here to visit my mother this morning. She left shortly after.”
“Shit,” Hongjoong muttered, realization dawning on him.
“Yeah,” the man replied, unbothered. “Whoever gave you your information really screwed up.”
“ Fuck .” Hongjoong cursed again, his frustration boiling over. He kicked the wall, startling the man. After a deep breath, he shot the male an exasperated look before turning to leave.
“Wait! Can you at least let me out?” the man called after him.
Hongjoong paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re my prisoner. Until I figure out what to do with you, you stay there.”
The man pouted. “Oh, come on, I need to stretch my wings, or they’ll cramp.”
“Then stretch them.”
“They’re too big for this cage.”
“It’s not a cage,” Hongjoong snapped. “And I’m not letting you out.”
“Fine,” the man countered with a smirk. “Then I’ll send birds to bother you. Birds listen to me, you know.”
Hongjoong glared at him, annoyance simmering beneath his cold facade. He was wasting time. With a sharp sigh, he relented. “Fine. I’ll let you out. But if you try to escape, I’ll strike you with lightning.”
“Okay!” the man chirped, grinning as if he’d just won a game.
Hongjoong emerged from the cabin, his expression grim. The messengers had been clear; release the male and continue on his way. His mission to abduct Pwyll’s son was far from over, and he couldn’t afford further delays.
As he stepped onto the deck, he paused.
There, perched on the edge of the Songbird , was the man.
Hongjoong’s steps slowed as his eyes took in the sight, widening in unbidden wonder.
The male sat in the midst of the raging storm, utterly drenched. Waves crashed against the side of the ship, spraying him with seawater, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he giggled—soft, musical, and carefree.
His soaked clothes clung to his frame, and his hair, darkened by the rain, stuck to his face in wild strands. But it was his wings that captured Hongjoong’s attention.
They were enormous, nearly as tall as the male himself, their feathers a radiant white interspersed with flecks of shimmering gold. Gold streaked the edges of the wings like a halo of light, gleaming even in the storm's darkness. Each time the male was hit with a wave, his wings flapped with what could only be described as joy.
Hongjoong, unprepared for the sight, found himself thinking—absurdly—that the action reminded him of a dog wagging its tail in excitement. Before he could stop himself, he let out a low chuckle.
The sound startled him back to reality. He quickly wiped the softness from his face, replacing it with his usual cold demeanor as he strode toward the male.
“You can leave.”
The male turned to him, his smile as wide and radiant as ever. “Really?”
Hongjoong gave a curt nod. “There’s nothing I need from you anymore. You’re free to go. I have other matters to attend to—namely, retrieving your half-brother.”
To his surprise, the male’s expression fell into a frown. “Oh… okay. Well, I’ll see you again?”
“Hopefully not,” Hongjoong replied, his tone clipped.
The male shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Rude.” Then, with an impish grin, he added, “My name’s Seonghwa, by the way. You should remember it, just in case.”
Before Hongjoong could respond, Seonghwa stood, his wings spreading wide. With a powerful beat, he lifted off the ship’s edge, rising into the air with graceful ease.
He waved enthusiastically, his laughter ringing out as he ascended into the stormy sky.
Hongjoong watched, transfixed, as Seonghwa’s figure shimmered like liquid gold against the dark clouds. The male moved with impossible precision, weaving through the strikes of Hongjoong’s own lightning as though it were a game.
Even as Seonghwa disappeared into the storm, his laughter lingered, echoing in Hongjoong’s ears.
For a long moment, Hongjoong stood there, staring at the empty sky.
He had never felt anything for anyone—not his mother, not his father. Affection, desire, attachment... such emotions were foreign to him.
And yet.
As he replayed the sight of Seonghwa’s radiant form defying the storm with unrestrained joy, something stirred in his chest—something he didn’t fully understand.
“I... I have to have him,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them.
The storm raged on, but Hongjoong’s focus was elsewhere, his resolve hardening with a new, inexplicable purpose.
Hongjoong didn’t have the chance to search for the male—not until he fulfilled his father’s orders. Once his task was complete, he made an unexpected request to his father’s messenger.
“I need time to handle... personal matters,” he said curtly, his tone brooking no argument.
The messenger hesitated, clearly taken aback. Hongjoong had never asked for time away before, but after a moment of consideration, they agreed.
Only then did Hongjoong set out on his own, his purpose clear.
With his network of connections, it didn’t take long. Of course, he found the male—Rhiannon’s son—hiding away in the Mortal Realm.
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn’t you love to love her?
The slender figure swayed to the rhythm of the music, his soft voice blending effortlessly with the lyrics as he moved about his cozy cottage. It was the kind of dwelling mortals used for holiday retreats, but for Seonghwa, it was home—a quiet haven nestled within the embrace of the woods.
The forest surrounding him was alive with the legacy of his mother, every tree and bloom a testament to the love she had passed down to him. Here, in this tranquil space, Seonghwa found solace, his heart at peace amid the harmony of nature and the melody that filled the air.
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?
His home was surrounded by birds, and a small stable stood outback where he had his own white steed, a gift from his mother.
All your life you’ve never seen
Woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you heaven
Will you ever win?
Seonghwa’s wings trailed softly along the floor behind him, their feathers relaxed in the comfort of his home. He carried two candles—blue and white—placing them carefully on separate tables in the living room.
Yule was approaching.
For many mortals, it was called Christmas, but to Seonghwa, it was Yule—a celebration he adored. He had begun decorating, his space slowly transforming with warmth and light. While the other Demi-Gods might have grand plans for the season, Seonghwa preferred the simplicity and charm of the Mortal Realm during this time. To him, it was far more beautiful.
She is like a cat in the dark
And then she is the darkness
The sound system perched on the bookshelf in the living room played a steady stream of music, filling the cozy space. Seonghwa swayed in time with the melody, his voice softly accompanying the lyrics as he worked.
The living room was the last space left to decorate, and Seonghwa moved with purpose, arranging ornaments and garlands with care. Only the tree remained—a task he planned to tackle soon.
In one hand, he held his favorite snowman-shaped mug, the peppermint mocha inside topped with a generous helping of marshmallows. Between sips, he hummed and twirled, completely immersed in the warmth and joy of the moment.
She rules her life like a fine skylark
And when the sky is starless
As Seonghwa swayed, his cream-colored cardigan flowed gracefully with him, his wings trailing softly behind as they brushed against the ground. His silk gold blouse and matching pajama pants offered little warmth, especially compared to the cozy fireplace in front of him. There, he shifted the small snow globes he had bought from the thrift store where he worked.
Yes, Seonghwa worked—though he didn’t need to. His mother had promised to bless him with abundance, but Seonghwa found a quiet joy in blending in with the mortals. He hid his wings, moving through the world as though he were purely human.
He didn’t despise his faery heritage—he adored his wings—but there was something uniquely beautiful about the mortal world that captivated him. And his mother, ever understanding, allowed him this simple pleasure.
All your life you’ve never seen
Woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you heaven
Will you ever win?
Rhiannon-
“Cute,” a voice commented, amused, startling Seonghwa. He turned sharply, glaring at the unexpected intruder.
Until recognition clicked. “Oh. It’s you.” He relaxed, his tension easing.
The male leaned casually against the doorway to the living room, dressed in a plain black turtleneck tucked into black jeans, topped off with a long black coat. His blue hair fell messily over his eyes, his outfit clearly chosen to blend in with the mortals.
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” the male—Hongjoong—said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room, his gaze sweeping around.
Seonghwa blinked in surprise. “I-I’m not. I’m just… surprised.”
Hongjoong smirked, amusement glimmering in his eyes as he sank into the worn but soft couch. “Not disappointed, huh?”
Flustered, Seonghwa blushed, fiddling nervously with his fingers. “That’s not what I meant! I meant—ugh! You know what? I don’t like you,” he huffed, though it was clear he didn’t truly mean it.
Hongjoong chuckled darkly. “I’m sure you’ll be saying something different very soon.”
“What?” Seonghwa blinked, confused.
“Getting ready for Yule already? It’s just December third, isn’t it a little early for that?” Hongjoong asked, glancing at the window where snow was already falling. Outside, the sky was dark, despite it barely being six in the evening. Seonghwa’s home was far up North, and he had always embraced the long nights and early snows.
Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong with exaggerated offense. “It’s never too early! I’m actually late—I wanted to start on the first when I was making my way back here, but somebody ,” he shot a pointed look at Hongjoong, “wrongly kidnapped me the day before December started, so now I’m behind schedule.”
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Oh, did I?”
“Yes, you did!” Seonghwa snapped. “I still have to find the perfect tree!”
“You celebrate like mortals do?” Hongjoong asked, intrigued.
Seonghwa hesitated, feeling a little self-conscious at the question. “Yeah… It’s nice. I like it. I have my own rituals and little touches I add, but yeah.”
Hongjoong seemed to consider this for a moment before shrugging. “Alright. Show me.”
“Show you?” Seonghwa’s confusion was evident.
“Show me,” Hongjoong repeated, leaning back into the couch. “Show me how the way you celebrate Yule is so much better than what we do in the Otherworld.”
Seonghwa was taken aback. “Excuse me? Is this some weird way of you trying to befriend me?”
Hongjoong stood up, his expression unreadable. “I don’t do ‘friends.’ I’m not interested in those kinds of relationships.”
Seonghwa was thoroughly confused now, unable to make sense of the situation.
“I have to go,” Hongjoong added, turning toward the door. He paused just before leaving, locking eyes with Seonghwa. “I’ll see you when I see you, my angel .” He winked, then swiftly exited the cottage, leaving a shell-shocked and reddened Seonghwa staring after him.
Seonghwa admired the Christmas decorations in the small store as cheerful holiday music played softly in the background. He had finally gotten a tree, and now he was in search of new ornaments to fill it.
His mother, Rhiannon, had sent him two ornaments for his tree, a thoughtful gesture despite not being able to accompany him. The first was a delicate white wooden carving of an owl, and the second, a small carved horse. They were beautiful—simple, yet meaningful—and the first pieces Seonghwa placed on his tree.
She had also sent a gold half-moon tree topper. The moon was one of her symbols, and gold was her color—a tradition she had passed on to Seonghwa. It was always his preference to place a moon on top of his tree, rather than the usual star.
Still, he needed more ornaments. With the garlands and lights already prepared, Seonghwa wandered the aisles of the store in search of the perfect finishing touches.
“What are you doing?” a voice asked, breaking his concentration.
Seonghwa jumped in surprise, turning to face the male in front of him. His eyes widened. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?! Did you know I was here?!”
Hongjoong shrugged casually. “Maybe I did. But you still didn’t answer my question.”
Seonghwa sighed, slightly exasperated. “I’m looking for ornaments for my tree. Why are you following me?”
Hongjoong chuckled. “Don’t you remember our conversation? I’m here to spend the December season with you.”
“I didn’t think you were serious.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening.
“I don’t know…” Seonghwa trailed off.
Hongjoong squinted at him, a playful challenge in his gaze. “What exactly have you heard about me?”
Seonghwa fidgeted, uncomfortable. “Not really anything good.”
“I’d assume not,” Hongjoong remarked dryly. “I make sure people fear me, not flock to me.”
“Why?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely curious.
Hongjoong shrugged. “I don’t like anyone but myself… and maybe you.” He turned and walked deeper into the store, leaving Seonghwa stunned in place.
Seonghwa scrambled to catch up. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”
Hongjoong glanced back at him, changing the subject. “Where are your wings?”
Seonghwa blinked, momentarily distracted by the shift in conversation. “What?”
“Where do you hide them?” Hongjoong’s eyes roamed Seonghwa’s figure, then landed on the space where his wings should be.
“In my back,” Seonghwa replied, fidgeting.
“ In your back? Those huge wings?” Hongjoong’s tone was full of shock, his gaze flicking to Seonghwa’s back again.
“They shrink into bones,” Seonghwa explained, “It’s hard to describe.” He paused, suddenly more focused. “Wait, no, don’t distract me. What do you mean you like me? You don’t even know me.”
Hongjoong’s expression softened, almost thoughtful. “I feel like I do.”
Seonghwa frowned, wanting an explanation. “How?”
Hongjoong’s lips curved into a smirk. “I asked around about you.”
Seonghwa’s frown deepened. “People don’t know me.”
“They do in Tír na nÓg , and your mother does, obviously.”
Seonghwa froze. “You asked my mother about me?”
“Yeah,” Hongjoong said with a nonchalant shrug as he scanned the aisle of miniature Christmas figurines.
Seonghwa pouted. “She didn’t tell me that.”
“It was very last minute,” Hongjoong explained, clearly uninterested in Seonghwa’s concern.
“Wait—hold on,” Seonghwa stammered, a frown tugging at his lips. “You kidnapped her other son. I highly doubt she was happy talking to you.”
Hongjoong’s smirk returned, and he glanced at Seonghwa with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I grow on people.” He paused, a little more serious. “And anyway, she made me promise to stop doing my father’s dirty work if I want to court you.”
“Oh, okay—wait, what?! ”
But Hongjoong had already started walking away again, leaving Seonghwa to process the unexpected bombshell.
“Could you stay in one place and talk to me?” Seonghwa asked, exasperation clear in his voice.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Hongjoong replied with a teasing smile, holding up two reindeer ornaments. “Do you want these?”
Seonghwa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh, those are cute! Gimme!”
Hongjoong chuckled, watching as Seonghwa eagerly admired the ornaments. “You are so easily distracted.”
“I have a short attention span,” Seonghwa admitted, then quickly pivoted. “Anyway, why are you courting me?”
Hongjoong’s expression shifted slightly, becoming more serious. “Because, my dear angel,” he began, leaning in closer to Seonghwa, who instinctively leaned back, eyes wary but intrigued. “For once in my long, chaotic life, I truly feel something in my cold, dead heart. And it’s all thanks to you. The rush of emotion I feel when I lay my eyes on you is more intense than the power that surges through me when I wield the storms. Just the sight of you brings me to life in ways my magic never could.”
Seonghwa blinked, unsure how to respond. His mind raced—he had heard stories from his mother about gods falling in love at first sight, going to great lengths to court their chosen ones. Even his own mother had courted Seonghwa's father, albeit in her own subtle way.
Hongjoong hummed thoughtfully, then handed Seonghwa a box of small snowflake ornaments, never breaking eye contact. “These look nice.”
Seonghwa nodded eagerly, adding the box to his basket as his attention was once again diverted. “They’re pretty..” He glanced back at Hongjoong, still watching him with that intense gaze. “So, uh, what—what are you doing right now with all this courting stuff?”
Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Never done this before. Never seen it done before, either. I’ll probably just keep pestering you until you agree to marry me. How does that sound?”
Seonghwa blinked, processing the words. He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged with a grin. “Sure. Sounds great.”
Did he like him?
Seonghwa paused and watched Hongjoong, who was intently studying the different garlands on the shelf.
He tilted his head, thinking.
Hongjoong was undeniably attractive, Seonghwa would admit that much. He was straightforward about his feelings, which, to be honest, felt refreshing. His flirtatious comments—if you could even call them that—had a way of making Seonghwa blush.
So, maybe Seonghwa wasn’t in love with him—not yet, anyway. But there was definitely something there.
It wasn’t like Seonghwa had much to compare it to. He was a reserved person, only ever paying attention to what genuinely interested him. Romance, sadly, had never been one of those things. He’d been confessed to a few times before, but each time, he’d gently turned them down with an apologetic smile.
But, as he thought about it now, rejection hadn’t been his first instinct this time. Maybe there really was something to this connection.
Seonghwa was curious to see if it would blossom into something more.
“What’s next?”
“Coffee!” Seonghwa exclaimed, instinctively grabbing Hongjoong’s hand and leading him to the coffee shop in the mall.
Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa animatedly explained the different coffees and drinks on the menu. Something warm and pleasant bubbled in his chest, and he let the feeling wash over him. He smiled, slipping his hand properly into Seonghwa's, enjoying the soft blush creeping onto the half-fae’s cheeks.
“I really like Peppermint Mocha—it’s my favorite. Do you have any preferences?” Seonghwa asked, his voice bright with excitement.
Hongjoong squinted at the menu, then turned back to Seonghwa with a smirk. “I’m not a big fan of peppermint… why don’t you surprise me?”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened in delight, and a wide smile broke out on his face. “Okay!”
“So cute,” Hongjoong mumbled under his breath, the words meant to be for himself.
But Seonghwa heard it, as evidenced by the deepening blush on his cheeks and his sudden refusal to meet Hongjoong’s gaze.
“It’s a caramel brûlée latte. Try it,” Seonghwa insisted.
Hongjoong took a sip, trying not to cringe. “Wow, that’s sweet.”
Seonghwa’s smile faltered, turning apologetic. “Oh no, do you not like it?”
“No, it’s fine. I like caramel,” Hongjoong reassured him.
“Oh. Do you really?” Seonghwa asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. I like it way more than chocolate.”
“That’s because you have no taste,” Seonghwa teased, letting out a squeal when Hongjoong pinched his arm.
As they made their way back to Seonghwa’s cottage, drinks in hand, Seonghwa wondered out loud, “So, what did my mother say about me?”
They walked side-by-side along the snow-covered sidewalks, the downtown streets bustling with the festive atmosphere. Christmas music played from every store they passed, decorations glittered in the windows, and snow gently drifted down on them.
Hongjoong, unaffected by the cold, strolled easily in his black shirt, coat, and jeans. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was bundled up in a brown sweater, a light coat, a light scarf, and a knitted beanie. His gloved hands held his coffee, trying to warm up, though he still shivered occasionally.
Hongjoong carried the shopping bags in one hand, his coffee in the other, both of them contrasting as they walked down the quieter side of the street.
“Your mother had a lot to say,” Hongjoong teased.
Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at him.
Hongjoong chuckled. “Nothing bad. She told me all about what you like. She mentioned your love for peppermint, so I already knew that. Don’t glare at me—I liked hearing you ramble about it. And she also told me you’re kind, caring, loyal, a bit childish, and a little mouthy—”
Seonghwa pouted, causing Hongjoong to laugh again.
“She said that courting you would be up to you, though, whether you want this or not. And then she threatened me that if you said no and I didn’t back off, well… let’s just say it’s a threat I should take seriously.”
Seonghwa laughed. “Mother can be scary.”
Hongjoong hummed in agreement. “Yeah, no kidding. She’s scarier than my father… though I’ve never actually met him,” he added with a shrug, taking a sip of his coffee.
A silence fell between them, and Hongjoong glanced over to find Seonghwa looking at him with soft, almost sad eyes. Sighing, he added, “I don’t care about it. Like I said, I don’t care for anyone in this world.”
“Except you and me?” Seonghwa asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hongjoong smiled and nodded.
“But… isn’t that sad?” Seonghwa asked, his voice soft.
Hongjoong shook his head. “I don’t think so. I grew up not knowing who my father was. I got used to it. I didn’t need him. Then I spent all my time alone on my ship, never really needing anyone else. And honestly, I preferred it that way. It’s peaceful not having to care for anyone.”
Seonghwa nodded. “I get it. I’ve never really taken too much interest in others, not because I like being alone, but I do enjoy being around people. It just… gets overwhelming sometimes. But being alone can be calming.”
Hongjoong hummed thoughtfully. “And now I have you to drag along with me on my ship.”
Seonghwa giggled. “Only if you promise there’ll be a storm.”
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really?”
Seonghwa shrugged. “It was fun last time.”
Hongjoong grinned. “Okay, I promise there’ll be a storm next time I take you on my ship.”
Seonghwa’s face lit up, and he hopped in excitement, causing Hongjoong to chuckle.
“Such a cute angel,” Hongjoong said, poking Seonghwa’s reddened nose. The gesture startled Seonghwa, who quickly took a sip of his coffee to hide his flushed face.
“What’s your ship called?” Seonghwa asked.
“ Songbird .”
“Any reason?”
“Hm… I like the singing of birds.”
Seonghwa giggled.
Hongjoong frowned. “What?“
“I have singing birds. They’re magical, though, because of my mother. They were a gift from her when she realized I inherited her magic.”
Hongjoong smirked. “Then I guess we’re meant to be.”
“We’ll see about that.” Seonghwa replied, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re fidgeting, are you okay?" Hongjoong questioned when he saw the half-fae shift his shoulders uncomfortably.
“Just ache-y.” Seonghwa responded, rubbing his shoulder.
“Do you know why?” Hongjoong asked, worry taking over his features.
“When I keep my wings in too long, it hurts.” Seonghwa explained.
Hongjoong sighed. “We better get back quick then.”
“This is so much work.” Hongjoong groaned with a huff when they were in front of Seonghwa's Christmas tree at home.
Seonghwa had without a doubt dragged Hongjoong into decorating with him and Hongjoong was regretting every second of it.
“It's fun!”
“It's a lot of work.”
“Then just sit back and watch, grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy, I’m just tired." Hongjoong defended before settling on the couch, watching Seonghwa put up the decorations while wearing a Santa hat. He smirked, "You know what, sitting back, watching you be cute? Perfectly fine with me.”
“ Oh my god why would you say that?!” Seonghwa exclaimed, his wings fluttering with his emotions.
“You’re like a dog.” Hongjoong stated.
“ Excuse me ?!”
“I meant, you know how a dog wags its tail when it's excited? That's what you do with your wings.”
“...I hate that I get what you mean -don’t smile, it doesn’t mean I agree.”
“Well, I have to go.” Hongjoong said, getting up.
“You’re not staying?”
Hongjoong smirked, “Do you want me to?”
Seonghwa pursed his lips, “I was just curious.”
Hongjoong smirked and winked, “I’ll see you when I see you next, my angel baby.”
Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile and blush.
That night, after baking gingerbread cookies, Seonghwa stepped out of the kitchen and noticed something glowing on his tree.
As he approached, he saw an orange lightning bolt ornament radiating warmth. He reached out, but hesitated to touch it. The heat radiating from it was so intense that Seonghwa knew it would burn his skin if he made contact.
A soft breath escaped him as realization dawned. This wasn’t just any ornament—it was a miniature lightning bolt, a piece of Hongjoong’s power, now tied to his tree.
Seonghwa smiled, his heart racing at the thought.
Sleigh bells ring
Are you listening?
A beautiful sight
We're happy tonight
Walking in a winter wonderland
Seonghwa’s giggles filled the living room as Winter Wonderland played through the stereo.
The Yule tree sparkled with lights, and Hongjoong was there, twirling Seonghwa before pulling him back into his arms. Seonghwa’s hand rested on Hongjoong’s shoulder, while Hongjoong’s hand was at his waist, their other hands intertwined as they swayed together.
Seonghwa sang along to the lyrics, his joy infectious.
Though Hongjoong wasn’t fond of Christmas songs, Seonghwa’s excitement and insistence on playing them had started to win him over.
He twirled Seonghwa once more, then pulled him back into his embrace. Their faces were inches apart, both of them smiling brightly.
We're gliding along with the song
Of a wintry fairy land
“Come on! How can you not like marshmallows?! They're the best parts about hot chocolates in winter!” Seonghwa exclaimed when they were in the kitchen, his wings fluttering with his emotions, the feathers knocking into the fridge.
“How are they the best part?” Hongjoong questioned, trying to grab the hot chocolate with no marshmallows from the half-fae, but instead got his hand smacked away.
“I don't know how, they just are!”
“That makes no sense!”
“You make no sense!”
Hongjoong was laughing and Seonghwa was pouting.
“Are you still sulking?” Hongjoong asked when Seonghwa slid him his mug quite pitifully.
“No.” Seonghwa was most definitely sulking.
Hongjoong sighed and gave him back the mug, “Fine, you can add one marshmallow to my hot chocolate.”
Seonghwa beamed at him and took the mug, ignoring Hongjoong's usual intense stare on him.
Until Hongjoong saw the mug. “Seonghwa, that’s two marshmallows.”
“Shh, it’s fine.” Seonghwa waved him off, hiding his smile.
“It's two too many, Seonghwa.”
“It's perfect.”
Hongjoong groaned, but took it anyway.
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Had a very shiny nose
And if you ever saw it
You would even say it glows
“Rudolph is you with your red nose when you're cold.” Hongjoong commented when they were both on the floor in front of the fireplace, Seonghwa singing along to the stereo again. There was a blanket upon their laps despite Hongjoong insisting he didn’t feel cold.
Instead of arguing, he had sat quietly and admired Seonghwa in the golden glow of the fire from in front of him.
“I hate you.” Seonghwa said with a pout.
Hongjoong smirked and reached out to ruffle the half-fae's hair. “But it’s cute.”
“I still hate you.” Seonghwa was blushing.
Think of all the fun I've missed
Think of all the fella's that I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you check off my Christmas list
“Are you going to the Yule Ball?” Hongjoong asked casually.
“In the Otherworld?” Seonghwa replied, munching on the gingerbread cookies he’d baked that morning.
“Hmm.”
“I thought you didn’t like events like that.”
“My father is one of the Gods honored during Yule. As his only son, I kind of have to attend.” Hongjoong answered with a resigned sigh.
“Oh. But aren’t the Gods still fighting? Why are the Demi-Gods holding events?” Seonghwa asked, subconsciously offering Hongjoong another cookie.
“I’m not sure. All I know is that Yule is a time of peace— the only time. And besides, I think it’d be amusing if the Son of Taranis and the Son of Rhiannon showed up together.” Hongjoong didn’t point out that Seonghwa was feeding him, instead happily taking a bite of the gingerbread man-shaped cookie, watching Seonghwa take a bite too.
“That would definitely be funny... Is that the only reason you’re asking?” Seonghwa asked, offering him the last piece of the cookie.
Hongjoong finished chewing, then looked at Seonghwa with a soft expression. “No... I’m asking because I want you there with me.”
Seonghwa felt his face warm as their gazes locked. He quickly glanced away. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“I’ll see you when I see you next, angel baby.”
“Not if I see you first!”
Hongjoong laughed.
The Yule Ball arrived too soon.
Seonghwa stood in the corner of the hall, taking in the extravagant scene before him. The decorations looked as though a snow globe had exploded, but it was beautiful in its chaos. Despite himself, Seonghwa felt a warmth inside, a glimmer of happiness.
He was dressed for the occasion in a light-colored oversized sweater over shimmery gold flare pants. A golden hooded cloak, long enough to reach the floor, completed the look, and fur boots shielded his feet from the biting cold. The hall itself felt like a winter wonderland, with snow falling gently outside, likely a request from a winter God or one of the weather deities.
Seonghwa’s crown rested on his head again, though he wasn’t used to the weight. It felt a bit uncomfortable after such a long time without it.
As he stood there, people began to whisper around him. He glanced up just as Hongjoong made his way down the hall. The sight took his breath away. Hongjoong was dressed in a sleek black button-up tucked into dark pants, a dark blue satin cloth draped around his waist, the ends hanging against his leg and adorned with chains. Over that, he wore a dark blue coat embroidered with silver designs, the same color as his silver thorn crown. His spear’s rod, shortened and wrapped in cloth, hung securely at his waist as if it were a sheathed sword.
Seonghwa’s heart skipped a beat as Hongjoong approached, looking both beautiful and deadly.
When Hongjoong reached him, he ignored the curious and disapproving glances from the others. After all, the sons of Rhiannon and Taranis, two gods with a long-standing rivalry, weren’t exactly a welcomed pair. They stood on opposite sides in the divine conflict, which made their presence together even more conspicuous.
“You look beautiful,” Hongjoong said, his voice low and sincere.
Seonghwa, still dazed by the sight of him, blurted, “ Me?? Have you seen yourself? ” The moment the words left his mouth, he froze, realizing his blunder. His face immediately flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly hid behind his hands as Hongjoong’s laughter rang out in the air.
“Please pretend I never said that,” Seonghwa mumbled, mortified.
Hongjoong’s laughter subsided, but the smile never left his face. “Why would I? My angel just gave me a compliment. I can't forget that,” he teased. Gently, he took Seonghwa’s hands from his face, holding onto his wrists. But instead of letting go, he moved his hands from Seonghwa’s wrists to his own, entwining their fingers. Then, without hesitation, he lifted Seonghwa’s hands to his lips, kissing his knuckles before lowering their hands again, still holding tight.
Seonghwa’s cheeks were now burning red.
Before he could say anything to deflect Hongjoong’s attention, the other male frowned, his voice soft but concerned. “Why aren’t your wings out?”
Seonghwa shrugged, his gaze flickering to the floor. “I didn’t want to deal with them.”
“What do you mean, ‘didn’t want to deal with them’? Seonghwa, they’re literally your limbs,” Hongjoong said, a hint of worry in his tone.
“I know… but I sometimes forget about them, and I don’t want people tripping over them. It hurts when they do, and my cloak would be in the way, too.”
Hongjoong sighed, though his expression softened. “Fine, but if they start aching, we leave.”
Seonghwa nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the compromise.
“So, what do we do here?” Seonghwa asked, looking around.
“You’ve never been to these events have you?” Hongjoong asked with a teasing smirk.
Seonghwa pouted. “Mortal Realm is more fun during seasonal celebrations.”
Hongjoong chuckled. “Well, I have to go greet some Demi-Gods my father wants to keep alliances with—with their parents, obviously—and also continue my duty of putting the fear of my storms into them-”
“Naturally.”
Hongjoong glared at him, but the smile forming on his face didn’t let him continue. “You can come with me?”
Seonghwa made a face.
“Or wait here for me.” Hongjoong said with a sigh.
“Is there food?”
“By the table.”
“Perfect!”
Hongjoong chuckled and then he was on his way after squeezing Seonghwa's hand reassuringly.
Hongjoong finally made his way back to the half-fae just in time to find another Demi-God leaving Seonghwa’s attention, clearly conversing with him before Hongjoong got there.
With a glare aimed at the male’s back, Hongjoong asked Seonghwa, "What was his deal?"
Seonghwa smiled and held up an object. "He gave me a pretty flower."
Hongjoong glared at the flower before snapping his fingers, small bits of electricity snapping around his fingers, his eyes flashing fiery orange and the next thing Seonghwa knew, the beautiful white flower in his hand was burnt to a crisp.
"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa scolded, hitting his shoulder with the burnt flower that withered and fell apart at the action.
Hongjoong just frowned, "You can't accept others courting gifts."
"Maybe it was just a little gift he wanted to give me-"
"No."
Seonghwa sighed and shook his head with an amused smile at Hongjoong's jealousy.
“Try this.” Seonghwa said, holding out a cookie he had found with the snacks.
“It’s a sugar cookie.” Hongjoong stated with a disgusted look.
“A good sugar cookie. And it's in the shape of a snowflake! With blue frosting!” Seonghwa persuaded.
“Seriously?”
“It's cute.” Seonghwa said with a pout, and he looked so adorable holding out a cookie, and looking at Hongjoong with his eyes pleading, how could Hongjoong refuse him?
“Fine.” Hongjoong sighed, opening his mouth.
Seonghwa fed him the cookie with the widest of smiles that Hongjoong wanted to keep for himself. He knew it wasn't right, but he would reign havoc down on all the realms if Seonghwa showed such sweet, affectionate smiles to anyone else.
“Too sweet.” Hongjoong said with a grimace, once he had swallowed the piece of cookie.
“Everything's too sweet for you.” Seonghwa said with a shake of his head.
“Except you. You're the perfect amount of sweet for me.” Hongjoong winked.
“Ew! Cheesy !”
Hongjoong laughed, and with an arm around Seonghwa’s waist he brought him close, something he had started doing, and something that made Seonghwa’s chest burst with warmth and comfort.
Enter the night and you'll find the light,
That will carry you to your dreams.
"Would you like to dance?" Hongjoong asked, extending his hand.
Seonghwa smiled and, without hesitation, placed his hand in his.
Enter the night, let your spirit take flight,
In the field of infinite possibilities
Hongjoong guided Seonghwa to the center of the dance floor, joining the other couples who had already gathered. They moved closer, falling into an embrace.
Seonghwa's arms rested around Hongjoong's neck, while Hongjoong held him gently at the waist. They swayed slowly beneath the soft glow of the winter lights, their closeness bringing a sense of warmth and comfort, just like every other couple surrounding them.
On the longest night we search for the light,
And we find it deep within.
Open your eyes to embrace what is wise,
And see the light of your own soul shining.
No one paid them any mind.
And they paid no mind to anyone else.
Only to each other. Their gazes locked, faces just inches away. Their contrast of dark and gold, wrapped in each other’s embrace, moving to the music being played upon the grand staircase, feeling as though they were the only two in the great hall.
So when you find that spark
When you dream in the dark,
Hold it close to your heart and know.
All that you see is all that can be
When you give birth to the dreams of your soul.
As they held each other’s gaze, Seonghwa breathed his reply, “ Yes .”
Hongjoong tilted his head, confused at the sudden response, “'Yes?'"
Seonghwa’s lip curled up into a half-smile. “Yes. To your courting; I say yes .”
Hongjoong paused, their swaying came to a standstill, his eyes widened and his mouth was parted before he broke out into a bright smile, and then brought Seonghwa into a tight, firm hug.
“Thank you, my angel.”
“I think we should get married next winter, kind of an ode to our time spent together —unless we just get married on Yule.”
" No. that's not enough time to plan a wedding! A year! We need a year!” Seonghwa scolded the other. Hongjoong was sure if his wings were out, they would be fluttering with the emotions Seonghwa let out.
Chuckling and continuing their swaying, Hongjoong said, “Yes, my angel, next winter it is.”
“Good.”
As the song came to an end, Hongjoong noticed a flash of discomfort on Seonghwa's face.
"Are you in pain?"
Clearly forcing a smile, Seonghwa said, "Why would I be?"
"Because of your wings."
"…No?" Seonghwa asked more than answered.
Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at him, "Want to try that again?"
Seonghwa sighed and leaned his head against Hongjoong’s shoulder "…yes."
"We’re leaving."
They were in the living room, soft Christmas music playing from the stereo, the fireplace crackling as snow gently fell outside. Both of them were in their comfort clothes—Seonghwa in gold, and Hongjoong in dark blue and black, their signature colors.
Hongjoong sat on the couch, guitar in hand, an instrument Seonghwa hadn’t known he played until he had brought it with him one night.
Seonghwa was seated on the floor, his wings stretched out and relaxed behind him, creating a peaceful contrast to the warmth of the room.
Later on, we'll conspire
As we dream by the fire
To face unafraid
The plans that we've made
Walking in a winter wonderland
As Hongjoong sang the last note, Seonghwa slowly crawled closer, his movements deliberate as he made his way toward him.
Hongjoong, finishing the final chords, gently set his guitar aside, just in time. In one fluid motion, Seonghwa was in his lap, his wings fluttering slightly as he pressed himself close, kissing Hongjoong with an urgency that left both of them breathless.
Seonghwa’s hands cupped Hongjoong’s face, pulling him deeper into the kiss, while Hongjoong wrapped his arms around Seonghwa’s waist, guiding him comfortably onto his lap. Their bodies melded together, the intensity of the kiss overwhelming, as Hongjoong embraced him, lost in the moment.
Hongjoong smiled against Seonghwa’s lips when he heard rather than saw Seonghwa’s wings flutter from happiness.
Pulling away, Seonghwa groaned, “Don’t you dare say anything.”
“But it’s cute. I love knowing when you’re happy.”
Seonghwa pouted.
Hongjoong leaned in and kissed the pout off his lips, “Don’t sulk, my angel baby.”
“You can't tell me what to do.”
Hongjoong sighed, smiling fondly at his angel.
“Did I ever thank you for the lightning bolt?” Seonghwa questioned. He was still settled upon Hongjoong's lap, both of them just enjoying each other's comfort like they usually did. Seonghwa was running his fingers through Hongjoong's hair with one hand, and with the other he was cupping Hongjoong's face, caressing his cheekbone.
“Hm?” Hongjoong asked, slightly dazed as he gazed into Seonghwa's eyes with utmost love.
“The ornament.”
“Oh. You noticed?” Hongjoong seemed a bit sheepish at the mention of his gift.
“It's hard not to notice a fire hazard hanging from my tree.”
“ Seonghwa .”
Seonghwa giggled and leaned in to softly kiss Hongjoong. “It's nice, thank you. I like having a symbol of you for myself.” Then he kissed him again.
“Hmm…you didn't try to touch it, did you? It could burn you.” Hongjoong questioned between kisses.
“I almost did.”
Hongjoong sighed at his lover.
“What are the gold things in between your feathers?” Hongjoong asked when he was laying on the couch with Seonghwa upon him, resting his head on Hongjoong’s chest.
“No touchy,” The wing fluttered away from Hongjoong’s outstretched hand. “They’re blades. Put in random places among my feathers so people don’t touch my wings. Mother placed them there to protect my wings.”
“Really?”
“Hmm…they’re not only blades, they’re poisonous blades. So, no touchy. Don't want you hurt.”
Hongjoong sighed in content and ruffled his lover’s hair. “I don't want you hurt either.”
“I know…”
“Which means you need to stop flying into my storm clouds.”
“But it's fun.”
“Seonghwa…”
“Fine.”
"You’re shedding." Hongjoong stated, holding up a feather that had strayed from Seonghwa's wing.
'No, I’m not."
"Your room is full of your feathers."
"…it happens sometimes ."
“I won't ever repeat this ever again, but I think you’re a lot more powerful than I am.” Hongjoong confessed, running his fingers through Seonghwa's hair.
“Really?” Seonghwa asked, surprised.
Hongjoong hummed his agreement. “I can only control storms and lightning, and my spear. You, on the other hand, can fly, you have poisonous blades on your wings, you can talk to birds and horses, and your mom gifted you a singing bird that can send people to eternal sleep or bring people back from the dead. Pretty sure you are a lot more powerful.”
Seonghwa was silent for a few seconds. “Huh. I like that. But, we should try fighting some time to see who is actually more powerful.”
“That wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“One little look from you and I’d be ready to get down on my knees in surrender.”
Seonghwa hid his blushing face against Hongjoong’s chest.
They were on Songbird ; Seonghwa’s excited laughter filled the raging stormy atmosphere as the waves crashed against the ship, and the lightning and thunder bellowed among the sky, lighting up the dark clouds in arrays of oranges and purples.
Hongjoong watched, entranced, at Seonghwa’s sheer happiness of being a part of the storm. And when just staying on the ship wasn’t enough, Seonghwa’s wings flapped, and he was off; he flew off the ship, crashing into the waves himself, his laughter echoing, bringing a smile to Hongjoong’s face —this smile wasn’t his usual maniacal grin or cruel smirk, this was a soft smile reserved for only one person in the entire universe; his bright angel who was soaring through the waters and the storm looking like a creature made of pure gold.
When he dropped back onto deck, his clothes were drenched, the feathers of his wings were soaking, and he was shivering, yet he was smiling wide.
Hongjoong shook his head as he approached his lover, “You’re gonna get sick.”
“Doesn’t matter. You'll take care of me.” Seonghwa replied, a cheeky smile appearing across his lips.
Hongjoong sighed. “Obviously.”
The flap of wings was the only warning Hongjoong got before his arms were full of his winged lover hugging him close and attaching their lips together; Seonghwa’s usual warm lips and skin were freezing cold to the touch.
“Five more minutes and then we’re heading home.”
Seonghwa pouted.
“Don’t you want to relax by the fire with your Peppermint Mocha?”
“...and marshmallows?”
“And marshmallows.”
Their moment was ruined by a particular blue lightning in the sky followed by loud thunder.
Hongjoong sighed.
“Your father calling?” Seonghwa huffed.
“Yes, I'll make it quick.” Hongjoong said with a sigh, even though what he really wanted to do was show his father’s messenger his middle finger and tell him to screw himself for disturbing him and his lover.
“You better.”
“I will. Get home safe.”
“I’m always safe.”
Hongjoong scoffed, before smiling and bringing Seonghwa close, hands cupping his face and soft gazes meeting, “I'll see you when I see you next, my angel baby.” and then their lips met once again.