Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hidden from the thick puff of clouds, under the night sky,  the moon god watched the water ripple from underneath his feet. 

Namjoon leaned against the railing of his balcony to stare at the ocean. The waves were calm, the breeze cool, and the water reflected the star-dotted night sky. He also looked at the moon's reflection in the ocean, which made Namjoon smile. The moonlight wasn’t bright yet, since it was still waxing, the crescent shape still thin, but it looked beautiful just like all the past new moons he’s created. 

There was a sudden sound from the front door and Namjoon whipped his head inside his house. He remained silent as the door creaked open and saw Seokjin and Yoongi enter his home, hands intertwined and soft smiles on their faces. 

“Yoongi brewed a new tea combination,” Seokjin announced, raising a finger and spinning it clockwise, the tip pointing upward. The air materialized a massive porcelain teapot, three clay tea cups, and a tin can of what Namjoon presumed were sky crackers and moon cakes. 

“Chamomile with lavender,” Yoongi beamed, settling on one of the soft cushions on the floor. “I think it’ll help you with sleep. I’ve been sleeping peacefully recently, thanks to this one.”

Namjoon nodded, pushing himself away from the railing not before raising his hands and waving at the sudden thick clouds that blocked the moon. He liked it when he could see the moon, guarding and minding it like a kid all the time. There was nothing wrong with exaggeratedly keeping an eye out since humans had tried to steal his moons many times. 

If it weren’t for Seokjin, the god of the sky, and Yoongi, the god of creation, helping him to move his house higher up in the sky and creating the sea so Namjoon’s home was surrounded by water, then Namjoon wouldn’t be able to complete a full moon’s cycle every single time. 

He sat on the cushion across from the god of creation and smiled at the sleepy face of Yoongi. 

“Looks like you’ve been drinking a lot of tea, hyung,” Namjoon teased as he reached for the cup Seokjin was offering to him. Yoongi simply ignored him and grabbed the tin can of treats. Namjoon snorted but then yelped when the tea spilled on his fingers, the hot liquid burning his skin. 

Seokjin clucked his tongue, amused. He blew at the skin quickly, chilly air gusting around his skin. The liquid instantaneously dried, even the cup going completely empty from the strong puff of air from the god of the sky. Yoongi laughed at the moon god, shoulders shaking and gums peeking. He playfully threw a piece of a sky biscuit at Namjoon’s lap. 

“You should be the god of clumsiness instead,” Yoongi teased. 

“Careful this time,” Seokjin chided, handing the same cup with the refill. Namjoon ignored the biscuit and opted to hold the mug with both hands. He took a whiff of the steam, the scent filling in his nose. The wonderful aroma of chamomile brightened up by the lavender was addicting. It made him relaxed. 

Not that he needed to relax since he’s had a relatively peaceful life. But for the past new moons, Namjoon’s thoughts were fleeting to an idea that he wasn’t so sure would make sense. Especially now that he’d made a mess with the tea. If Seokjin wasn’t fast enough, he was certain that he would break the cup. Imagine the mess. 

But in all seriousness, Namjoon couldn’t stop thinking about having a kid. Of and on his own, of course, like how he simply crafted a new moon, out of his moon power. Deities were powerful enough to create kids of their own. Unlike Seokjin and Yoongi who preferred to watch over the other divinities in the pantheon and the humans, Namjoon dreamed of having a child that wasn’t human but a deity who simply enjoyed life. 

But was that a great dream? Could Namjoon really do it? When he could barely hold a teacup properly especially when he would get excited. Namjoon sighed dejectedly to himself, hands getting warm from the tea. 

Yoongi noticed that Namjoon had fallen somber, the cup still nestled between his palms. He frowned for a moment and then curled around Seokjin, opening his mouth, waiting for the moon cake to be fed to him, and tugging at Seokjin’s robes. 

Seokjin raised a brow at him. “What do you need, love?”

“Joonie’s thinking and that alone is petrifying,” Yoongi mumbled in between chews, long hair flowing prettily against the white silk of Seokjin’s robs.

Namjoon stared at Yoongi blankly then rolled his eyes dramatically. Unlike Yoongi’s long loose hair and Seokjin’s long hair always kept in a bun on his head, Namjoon liked to keep his brown hair short. He’d had too many troubles with tying his hair in the past century.  One of those events was when he almost burnt his locks when he fell asleep near the candlelight of his room when he was reading a book. 

He pushed the teacup towards the middle of the table and pressed his palm on the short end of the hair at the back of his head. 

“You don’t do anything but annoy me,” Namjoon groaned, finally picking up the biscuit from his lap. 

“Because you always carry an annoying face,” Yoongi stuck his tongue out. Namjoon would always wonder how Yoongi was the god of creation when he did nothing but irritate Namjoon every chance he could get. He would always respect Yoongi, being older and the most powerful god next to the god of the sky, Seokjin. Agust wasn’t really a great god, sleeves full of mischief and schemes. Yoongi was exactly like his brother, the trickster god, Agust, but it was something he couldn’t just bring up. 

After all, Agust tricked Yoongi one spring, stealing the flowers he’s created, leaving the pantheon, and going down to earth to rule the humans. Yoongi was supposed to create a destined ruler for humans, but apparently, Agust had other plans. 

It was Agust’s fault that the earth was filled with sins, sorrow, and suffering. Agust was selfish and cruel and he taught humans to do the same. Namjoon was glad to see Yoongi had Seokjin. The love the sky god had for Yoongi was as vast as the heavens; something the Yoongi truly deserved. 

Namjoon wanted that too, someone to be with him, but not in a romantic way. He dreamed of having a companion, someone he could play with and dote on, someone he could give love and take care of and offer all of the new moons. 

Namjoon dreamed of having a child. But he wasn’t so sure if that was a dream he could accomplish. He has the confidence to make one, already planning what his future kid would look like. He already got a name for it, Hajoon . Ha - summer and Joon - talented. He wanted to craft his child during the beginning of summer with the best strawberry moon he could craft or at the end of the summer out of the wonderful full corn moon he could build to help end the summer and harvest season. 

He’s got a whole papyrus scroll piled on one corner of his study, instructions, and things he and his future child would do once he was born. 

But again, he’s worried. He wasn’t the best deity when it came to childcare and he wasn’t at all the divinity to rely on someone who got injured. He would always run to Seokjin and Yoongi’s house at the top of Paektu mountain hidden by the highest clouds whenever he needed a new jade bowl to start a new moon. He was a clumsy deity but a very, very determined and confident one. 

He’s been having this fantasy for 2 decades and Namjoon wanted to make it happen. 

“What’s wrong, Joon-ah?” Seokjin asked, flicking his wrist to whisk the clouds that suddenly blocked their view of the moon. Yoongi had successfully invaded his lap, carefully balancing a teacup in his hands. Namjoon smiled at the elder god and sighed. 

“I think I want to be a father,” Namjoon confessed, voice small yet strongly determined. 

Yoongi placed the cup on the low table and leaned against Seokjin’s chest, smiling when the elder pushed his locks back and wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“You can be an appa ,” Yoongi agreed. “Is that what you’ve been thinking of? What’s wrong, though? Are you worried that you might need our approval?”

Namjoon shook his head, knowing all too well that the two powerful gods wouldn’t bind him like that. The divinities were given the liberty to act according to their desires, as long as they wouldn’t cause chaos in the pantheon and in the human world. He leaned against the table, propping his elbows on the wood and tucking his chin on his palms. 

“I am worried I may not fit into becoming a father.”

Yoongi only hummed and closed his eyes when Seokjin rubbed a hand on his chest, caressing him. “I think you’ll be a great father, Joon-ah,” Seokjin commented softly. “You’re gentle, kind, and could do a lot of things to make a kid happy and entertained.”

“I am nowhere near being gentle, hyung,” Namjoon pouted, pinching his brows at the sad thought. 

“Well, you need practice, for sure,” Yoongi giggled, hiding his face against Seokjin’s neck. “But you’re the moon god, the gentlest and kindest among us all. You wax and wane the prettiest moon. If you create a kid with such precision and care, I’m sure you’ll produce a wonderful child.”

The moon god blinked at the higher gods before him, their confidence and trust evident in their auras. He smiled shyly and tilted his head to the side, eyeing the last piece of moon cake. Seokjin caught him and simply waved a hand. Namjoon grinned and grabbed the last treat. He ate it in one bite and beamed, proud and content.

“Besides, there are no rules to parenting,” Seokjin mused, pulling Yoongi’s legs and curling the god of creation against his chest. “Do you think the god of the underworld, Yeomna, knew how to discipline his kids from the moment they were created? The number of times Yoongi had to create gates to prevent his little spawns from climbing the heaven.”

“And Jacheongbi, the goddess of agriculture, spent an entire decade nurturing her sprites. It wasn’t easy,” Yoongi added, rubbing the tip of his nose with the back of his hand, face already disgusted at the memory of Yeomna’s little kids screaming and crying for attention. “And don’t forget about Hwanung,” Yoongi puffed, earning a soft smile from the heavenly god. “Seokjin-hyung thought his only son would stay with us only for Hwanung to announce independence so that he could help the mortals on earth.”

Namjoon nodded silently, scolding himself about Seokjin’s sole heir who wanted nothing but to be with humans and help them have an honest life. No one in the pantheon had heard about the real reason why Hwanung went down, since he lived a very peaceful life in the Pantheon with the other deities. 

Centuries ago, when the Pantheon lived peacefully with each other and would listen to humans’ prayers, the god of creation, Yoongi, and his twin Agust heeded humans’ every need. Everything seemed fine until Agust turned greedy and decided that humans need a formal immortal ruler. Yoongi agreed but since neither of the two would bow down, they competed with each other to declare who would be the final ruler. Yoongi was the fitting ruler but Agust had cheated and cheated and when he left, bringing the Magnolia flower with him, it created disruption.

It raged Yoongi, for Agust tainted the purity and nobility of the Magnolia and denied Yoongi of what should’ve been his. Yoongi’s anger caused chaos and confusion among humans. It also caused the first recorded death of a mortal. From then on, Yoongi wasn’t only the god of creation but named the god of destruction. His twin was named the trickster god. 

The ruler of the heaven, sky god, Seokjin had to lock Yoongi away from the rest of the pantheon, calming him down and coaxing him back to his old self. Namjoon also felt Yoongi’s pain and for a year, the moon would only shine either blue or red because he couldn’t help either feeling sad or hate from what happened. 

The moon’s color had a great impact on humans which Namjoon flagrantly ignored. Yoongi was his best friend and it was these pathetic humans who had caused pain to his best friend. He didn’t care if the humans got scared when the moon shone red or if they would weep and suffer in pain when the moon shone blue. There were months that Namjoon didn’t wax and wane a moon, thinking that humans didn’t deserve his blessings. 

A decade passed. Seokjin created Hwanung who, unlike the rest of the deities in the pantheon, loved the mortals. He asked his father, Seokjin, if he could go down to earth and rule them. Seokjin agreed in the hopes that Hwanung would bring back peace among mortals after what Agust had done to it. 

Yoongi created 3000 servants and three gods to represent the rain, cloud, and winds to accompany Hwanung on his journey. Seokjin watched from heaven as Hwanung established a city the moment he’d reached Paektu mountain and called it Sinsi. It was Hwanung’s efforts to praise his father and offer a token to Yoongi. 

Since then, Seokjin would watch from the top of the mountain how his son would rule the earth. Yoongi would watch alongside him and would create things Hwanung might need in bringing back peace. Just recently, Yoongi made fields of flowers on earth to surround humans with fragrant and beautiful things.

Unlike the two who still helped the earth and hoped for the restoration of honest living and peace, Namjoon wasn’t a believer. He still hated humans, hated them for crying at the gate of the pantheon demanding a wonderful life, and asking for a ruler when they could do it themselves. They didn’t need a ruler, they wanted someone who would give things and do things for them. Namjoon didn’t like humans because humans were pesky and rude creatures. They’re ungrateful and full of lies and very, very wicked.

When he was feeling petty, he’d push the moon closer to the ocean, the tides rippling like crazy in the sea, the distance causing chaos in the human mind. When he was feeling petty, he’d let the moon stay at such a distance, the high and low tide would go crazy, and the moods of the human were almost the same. He wasn’t in it for killing humans, but he would still do anything to have his revenge once in a while. 

“Would you want a human child, though?” Seokjin asked suddenly, cutting Namjoon out of his train of thought. 

Namjoon sat up straight and shook his head, face painted in disgust. Seokjin rolled his eyes and snorted. 

“Humans aren’t at all bad, Namjoon,” Seokjin reminded him. 

“But they’re bad for me,” Namjoon countered. “I pretty much prefer having an immortal child. A deity like his father.”

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi yawned. “You’re going to be a father and you’re going to craft a child. When do you plan on making it?”

“I am planning sometime this summer,” Namjoon replied. He looked at the moon and smiled to himself. “I want my child to be born during summer.”

“A summer’s child,” Seokjin smiled, voice soft. “We’ll have a kid running around the pantheon. It’s been centuries since we had a little one in this place.”

Namjoon blushed, feeling happy that the two high gods had given him approval even though he didn’t necessarily need one. But he was glad that they supported him and was looking forward to the idea of having a child. 

“You make sure you have everything ready,” Yoongi reminded him. The moon god nodded at him, smiling brightly. “And follow the recipe, but mostly, trust your power.”

“I understand,” Namjoon replied. “I will collect everything before the month ends. I am going to make the best ivory bowl for this one. Hajoon only deserves the best.”

“Ha Joon?” Yoongi blinked sleepily against Seokjin’s hold. “You already got a name for him?”

Namjoon blushed again and smiled, dimples digging at his cheeks. 

“I know he’s going to be just like you, Joon-ah,” Seokjin cheered. “Hajoon sounds like a perfect name for the perfect child.”

Namjoon couldn’t agree more. He just really, really needed to make everything perfect so he could finally have Hajoon in his arms. He’s excited to show everything and make Hajoon happy. 

This was going to be perfect. 

—

Perfect was the last thing to describe it. As a matter of fact, perfect wasn’t even on the list of words that could describe what had happened. 

Everything before the final result was perfect so Namjoon didn’t understand why the result wasn’t something he’d hoped for. The expected result wasn’t even there . It wasn’t there. 

For the past three full moons, Namjoon collected enough air, soil, and water so he could make pressure, stone, mud, clay, and the rest of the things needed to craft a human being. Yoongi had told him specifically that divinities and mortals came from the same origin, the only difference was the power deities infused in the body. As soon as he managed to craft a body of a baby in the ivory basin, he poured enough primordial soup he’d collected from the farthest corner of the earth. Seokjin had offered him help, clearing the sky so he could travel quickly and safely.

He could already see Hajoon’s face—almond-shaped eyes, soft brown curly hair, and chubby cheeks. Namjoon had poked Hajoon’s clay form, clearly stating that Hajoon should have his dimples. The brown color of the clay grew lighter and lighter as Namjoon continued to pour the soup. Once the body was fully submerged, Namjoon slowly pushed the basin towards the center of the house where the ceiling is open and the moonlight would filter in. He needed the moonlight from its highest peak to give Hajoon his immortality. 

Namjoon puffed loudly and tried to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He carded his fingers through his short buzz-cut hair and groaned when he noticed where he had gone wrong. 

He should’ve set the basin at the center of his before he started mixing the ingredients. Or maybe, he should’ve been careful with the ivory basin in the first place. He groaned at the crack from the left side of the bowl and saw water slowly dripping out, pooling at the wooden high desk. He rounded the house for rags to contain the mess and searched around the kitchen for another ivory basin. But alas, Namjoon had only crafted one, he’d only crafted the best and since he’d spent the past months collecting the ingredients he didn’t have the time to make a spare. He didn’t want to make a child in a porcelain basin, it wouldn’t just—he just didn't like it.

He ran to the counters and drawers and sighed when the ingredients he’d collected weren’t enough as well. The added annoyance made him drop the glass vials and jade containers, breaking them into pieces. He’s truly the god of clumsiness and by this point in time, Namjoon was certain Yoongi would officially call him the god of destruction as well. 

He shut the drawers close and figured that he could do this all over again. There was no point in turning the house into the trash when he could barely take a step around the low tables and earthenware pots without hitting a toe or a shin. Carefully this time, Namjoon picked up the porcelain basin and placed it on the far end of the room where the kitchen was. With a quick flick of his wrists and a snap of his fingers, the remaining mess was instantly cleaned. It looked like nothing bad had happened for the past 3 hours of the night.  

Deciding that there was no point in moping, Namjoon headed to his chamber and told himself to regroup the next evening. He could still make a child, he could still make it happen. If a summer child wasn’t meant to be his, then a child in the autumn wasn’t a bad idea, too. He’d always loved autumn anyway. 

He changed into his sleeping pants, foregoing the top shirt, and pulled the covers against his chest. He sniffled at the last remnants of his hurried crying from a while ago and glared outside the window when something caught his ears. 

At first, he thought they were just birds or trees or the wind howling at Paektu mountain. But as Namjoon listened intently (fueling the anger for being prevented from falling asleep), he realized that it was the sounds of beating drums, singing, cheering, and people celebrating. Namjoon jumped out of his bed and leaned against the railing of the window in his chamber. The moonlight was shining brightly at the group of people on one of the rice fields miles away from the sea. Namjoon didn’t have hawk eyes so he couldn’t exactly see what they were doing, but even from this distance, he scoffed at the noises they were making. He grumbled to himself, their noises weren’t stopping any time soon, it seemed. 

He really wanted to fall asleep after spending hours forming a baby—a baby that wasn’t successful at all. He needed to rest but these pesky humans wouldn’t stop howling like monkeys. He’s aware that humans celebrate the end of the summer with the barley moon, but he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate with them. 

He wasn’t lucky enough to actually harvest anything - he should be holding Hajoon by now -  and their noises were making him feel worse. He groaned again, hands tight around the railing of the window and shoulders coiled with tension. 

“That’s it,” Namjoon grumbled, throwing one last glare at the bonfires lined at the shore. 

Namjoon was one of the gods in the pantheon who hated humans. He was also the god who was the pettiest . Three decades ago, when he heard one human pray for him and asked for light as the human traveled around the forest, Namjoon simply ignored him and hid the moon from the clouds. The human cried and begged, apologizing even, but Namjoon didn’t relent. The heavenly god appeared hours later, pushing the thick clouds away and guiding the human to the trail leading to the nearest town. 

He was feeling petty right now. A petty moon god was an evil god. With a quick snap of his fingers, the moon above them hovered closer to the ocean, pulling the tides higher and making the waves crash louder. Some of the bonfires the human had built closer to the seashore were devoured by the seawater, the tiny fire torches went out with the strong gust of wind from the waves. 

The celebration halted for a moment. Namjoon was feeling pretty pleased with himself, barking out a loud laugh and grinning widely. Tomorrow, he will feel more pleased as soon as he makes a new porcelain basin. As soon as he laid on his back, sighing at the soft mattress and cool sheets, he asked sleep to peacefully come to him. 

—

It wasn’t peaceful. Namjoon held the moon the entire night closer to the sea, destroying the human’s giddy celebration. They looked oblivious to the moon’s distance, too engrossed with their singing and dancing; naive to the fact that the reason why some of them felt like crying despite the laughter around them was caused by the moon’s power. 

The humans didn’t stop singing until daybreak. It also meant Namjoon didn’t get to sleep until 2 hours ago. He only had 2 hours of sleep, and he wished on getting more sleep if it weren’t for the plans he had already set in stone. He quickly ate his breakfast, cloud-puff pastries, and hibiscus tea. He changed his clothes and hurried to his drawers of supplies, checking inventory. 

He was making the final list of things he needed to collect when there was a knock on the front door. Placing his papyrus and quill on the desk, Namjoon galloped to the entrance, excited but only because he wanted to deal with his visitor as quickly as possible so he could leave and collect the necessary things. 

“Namjoon-ah,” the lady in pink and red robes greeted. Namjoon bowed politely and opened the door wider. 

“Lady Samshin,” Namjoon greeted the goddess of childbirth with a wide smile on his face. Samshin was a human-turned-deity after winning a competition against one of the dragon lords. It granted her power and authority to provide care and protection to mothers and babies during the childbirth process. Namjoon knew she was responsible for new babies and Namjoon wondered why she was at his home when he didn’t succeed in manifesting Hajoon. 

“How may I help you?”

Samshin smiled softly at him. She lifted a hand and thumbed at Namjoon’s right brow. 

“I was certain,” she spoke, her voice soft and gentle like the afternoon breeze in the spring. “I found a young child, still considered a newborn but already looking around 2 or 3 years of age. He appeared in the middle of a bamboo forest, a mile away from the bay of the Yellow Sea when the barley moon was at its highest peak last night.”

Namjoon listened intently to her words. He was feeling a little confused but still didn’t want to assume. “He had soft brown wavy hair, very deep dimples on his chubby cheeks, and a birthmark at the back of his neck. When I saw him at the river of fecundity by my chambers I knew he looked familiar.”

“Are you saying?” Namjoon asked, eyes wide and skin already pale. 

Samshin smiled at him. “I think you’ve successfully crafted your firstborn, Namjoon-ah.” 

Namjoon beamed widely, tears unabashedly staining his cheeks. 

“I did it,” Namjoon pulled his hair, eyes disappearing with tears but glinting happily. “I really made Hajoon. I have a son!” Namjoon smiled so wide, his face would split in half. He walked across the entryway of his house, robes swaying with every move. He stopped before Samshin and choked out a sob, still couldn’t believe it but also wanted this to happen. 

“I can be a father now! My own divinity, a child of my own. It’s good news, Lady Samshin! The pantheon and its first immortal summer child.”

Samshin nodded at him but then furrowed her brows. Her pink and red robes stopped swaying for a moment, the stillness made Namjoon stare at her intently. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Namjoon sniffled, dark blue and gray silk robes hanging in the air. “What is it, Lady Samshin?”

“He isn’t a deity, Namjoon-ah,” Samshin informed him gently. “And his name is Haeil. He was named after the sun and the sea where the adults had found him. A group of men saw Haeil and brought him to an orphanage at daybreak.”

Namjoon sucked in the air harshly, chest feeling tight. He dreamed of having a kid of his own, but he dreamed of having an immortal child. He’d always known that he’d raise a deity, not a mere human who did nothing but disrupt his sleep. How could this happen? He thought he’d done everything perfectly and yet Namjoon found himself in a situation that he didn’t imagine happening for millennia. It sent shivers down his spine, and the excitement drastically turned into apprehension. What should he do? Should he leave Haeil - even his name sounded wrong - on earth? But he’s Haeil’s father, he was the one who made him, shouldn’t Namjoon do something? 

“Namjoon-ah?” Samshin sliced through his rampant worry. “Should I call for the heavenly god and ask for help? You know Seokjin-ssi and Yoongi-ssi will always support you.”

Namjoon wanted to say yes but Seokjin could be somewhere in the pantheon attending to other deities’ needs. Yoongi wasn’t any different. Being the god of creation, he must be off somewhere performing a part of his long list of tasks. Namjoon was one of the only few gods who worked in the evenings anyway, so he couldn’t ask for help from his two best friends when the sky’s clear and the sun’s high. He shook his head and wiped the tears with the heels of his hands.

“I’ll just need a moment,” Namjoon replied weakly. 

“I understand,” Samshin nodded, lifting a hand and producing a small white moonflower in thin air. She handed it to Namjoon and smiled hopefully at him. 

“I knew he was yours from the moment I saw the moonflower grow and bloom around him. I heard you had plans of raising a divinity since humans can be irritating,” Samshin cupped both of Namjoon’s right hand and squeezed it gently. “But not all humans are like that, Namjoon-ah. Some are kind and caring and protective. And Haeil is your son, I’m certain he’ll be just like you.”

Namjoon wanted to believe her but it was too hard to believe in her right now. 

“I hope so. Not all humans can be like you, Lady Samshin,” Namjoon sniffled, chin beginning to tremble again at the feeling of defeat. “I don’t know how I am going to raise Hajoon as a mortal when I always had fears that I could barely nurture him as an immortal. What should I do?”

Samshin didn’t reply but only held his hand. Namjoon was mentally screaming at himself, preparing for the worst. He knew this would be hard.

—

In the end, it wasn’t that hard. It wasn’t even that bad. It was fairly easy and Namjoon almost couldn't believe it. 

Aside from arriving safely and quickly at the little orphanage where Samshin had pointed from the river portal that served as their eyes on earth, Haeil recognized his own father. The only thing that wasn’t easy to accept at first was that Haeil already knew himself as Haeil and not Hajoon. Samshin had reminded him that babies instantly register the first name given to them, owning them. Namjoon could no longer make any changes. 

But that’s fine. Namjoon couldn’t find any reason to be sad about it because Haeil had the brightest smile and the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard. Namjoon couldn’t stop admiring him. 

As soon as he saw him, Namjoon had cried shamelessly at the entrance of the orphanage, arms around his little boy. He looked like a child himself, dressed in simpler clothing and straw sandals around his feet. It’s part of his disguise: dress and look lowly like humans. The mortals didn’t know what the members of the pantheon looked like, but still, Namjoon didn’t want to just expose himself and suddenly create a line of humans answering prayers and asking for blessings. He’s on a mission, a very important one at that. 

“Appa! I’m sorry I got lost,” Haeil pouted, fat tears rolling down in succession. He had a dried persimmon sauce from the corner of his lips and chin stained with barley tea. Namjoon only shook his head and wrapped a hand around the boy’s neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

Just last night, Haeil was a mere clay, molded into the shape of a human baby. He fitted the tiny porcelain basin perfectly. But now, not even a day’s full cycle, Haeil was right in front of him, with short arms and legs, chubby tummy and cheeks, brown eyes and hair, and a bright smile with deep dimples that resembled so much like the moon god. 

“One thing you should know,” Samshin had told him as he rounded the house in search of spare robes and a spare linen string bag. “Haeil recognizes you as his father, but the past and future are trivial things to him. After all, Namjoon-ah, Haeil is just a kid.”

“Can I call him Hajoon? Because Hajoon is supposed to be his name,” Namjoon had tried to reason but Samshin only patted his cheek and laughed at him softly.

“Haeil regained consciousness the moment he was named,” she had replied. “Haeil is a wonderful name, though?”

“It means the sun,” Namjoon groaned with a frown. Samshin had looked at him passively. 

“You wanted to name him out of summer, Namjoon-ah,” the goddess had sighed. “I still couldn’t believe how the most mysterious god is actually this petty.” Namjoon blushed at the teasing but then bowed his head down. 

“But listen to me, child,” Samshin had resumed. “You can only bring Haeil into the pantheon after he’s spent his 100 days on earth. He needs to celebrate his baek-il like any newborn among humans.”

“But how can I last long for 100 days on earth,” Namjoon sighed, shoulders growing tense again. “How will I know, Lady Samshin?”

“That’s for you to find out,” Namjoon had only huffed and shoved his clothes and other important things in his bag. “Now, hurry! Haeil is almost done with his lunch. You need to seek shelter before sunset. I’ll try my best to help you with your travels.”

Haeil was wearing a shirt too loose and barefooted. Namjoon scanned his body one last time and scooped him off the ground. Haeil giggled at the sudden swoosh , arms snaking around the moon god’s arms and legs around his torso. 

“Did you have a nice meal, Haeilli?” Namjoon pushed his son’s hair away from his forehead and received a wide smile. 

“Finished my rice and drank all of my tea,” Haeil announced proudly. “Was I good?”

“Aigoo, the very best boy,” Namjoon grinned back, nosing at Haeil’s chin. “Now, let me just—”

Namjoon blinked at the two ladies standing across them. They smiled politely at him, even handing him two containers wrapped in pink satin cloth. 

“Lady Samshin prays for a safe trip,” the lady on the left said, handing the wrapped container of what seemed to be filled with food. Namjoon saw how her eyes flickered gold in a second before they went back to brown. The lady blinked at him, surprised, and then flashed Haeil a wide smile. 

“I knew your Appa would come and find you,” she waved at him. He bowed at Namjoon formally before leaving the other lady - who seemed to be the one in charge - and dashed back inside the orphanage. 

“Namjoon-ah,” Namjoon’s eyes almost fell on the ground when he heard Samshin’s voice from the old lady before him. “Be careful on your way and make sure to be mindful of your surroundings. 100 days and Haeil can be allowed to enter the pantheon, you’ll just have to awaken and nurture his demigod and his human sides.”

The old lady bowed formally too, her eyes flickering gold just before Namjoon could miss them, and handed the other package. Namjoon smiled at her and when the lady stood up, she blinked her now brown eyes, almost confused why she was outside. 

Namjoon only nodded at her and she glanced one last time before smoothening the crease on her brows and walking back inside. The moon god’s thankful that Samshin had stretched her powers to help her. He knew Seokjin had already learned the news and he was truly grateful that both the high gods didn’t fuss at him. He smiled at the thought of them trusting him with his decisions in life. Even though Namjoon wasn’t certain how he was going to last a hundred days on earth when he loathed this place. 

“Appa?”

Namjoon snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Haeil. 

“What is it, my little plum? Oh, let appa clean this,” the moon god rubbed the dirt off the boy’s nose. 

Haeil scrunched his nose and pulled away, blinking and giggling when Namjoon tried to reach for his cheeks. 

“Appa, no,” Haeil shrilled, twisting his upper body. His feet landed on Namjoon’s stomach and Namjoon let out a loud oof when Haeil managed to kick him straight to his left kidney. 

Haeil froze in his arms and quickly leaned in for a hug. It was enough for Namjoon to ignore the pain and melt into the embrace. 

“Appa, sorry,” Haeil mumbled, pressing his cheek against Namjoon’s and planting a kiss on Namjoon’s skin. “Haeilli is sorry, appa. Didn’t mean to.”

Namjoon had just made the sweetest, kindest, and most behaved boy, he thought to himself. 

“Appa down,” Haeil said suddenly. Namjoon didn’t want to let go but Haeil insisted and despite him having zero ideas of what to do, he figured that it was best to follow his gut feeling and go with the flow. 

Provided that he’d feel safe, of course.

“Are we going home now?” 

Namjoon bent to meet Haeil and fixed the boy’s collar. “We’re going on a trip, gonna travel around for a bit.”

“Oh! A trip, I am excited! Some kids say they love fireworks and paper boats and lanterns! I want it too, appa.”

Namjoon couldn’t even refuse Haeil anything even if someone pointed a blade at him. Not that he was going to perish with a mere blade. But the point was, Haeil was too adorable and it was causing great damage to Namjoon’s poor heart. He’s always loved tiny and cute things, Haeil was the best son, he concluded. 

“Let’s go and do that,” Namjoon agreed. “Will you be fine walking on your own while I carry these?”

Haeil eyed the two wrapped containers and then the bag slung over at Namjoon’s back. He pursed his lips for a moment but nodded at his father. 

“Okay, I’ll walk,” Haeil pouted. Namjoon couldn’t help but bite the insides of his cheeks. 

“I promise to carry my little plum once we get everything settled, alright?”

Haeil nodded easily, a small hand already reaching for the sleeve of his robe. Namjoon grabbed the containers - still unaware of what was inside, aside from the soft guesses of food and tea sets - and lifted them up. Together, the father and son started walking. 

Haeil started pointing at his surroundings, asking for the name of the certain tree or the color of the flower before him. He was chirpy and curious and Namjoon couldn’t stop smiling. 

—

Walking for what felt like hours was suddenly taking a toll on the pair.  Based on the angle of the sun, it’ll be dusk soon and Namjoon has no idea where they are. They’ve walked past a couple of small houses and some farmers which Namjoon blatantly ignored, not liking the idea of talking to any human yet. 

Now, they’ve reached the end of the rice field and entered the forest. Namjoon simply admired the trees and hummed at the sudden change of temperature in the air. He thought everything was going well until Haeil let out a cry and someone suddenly appeared before them. 

The moon god instantly let go of the containers, not minding at all if they get destroyed. He instantly kneeled before his son and made a quick inspection.

“What’s wrong, little plum?” Panic and stress were evident in Namjoon’s voice, a feeling that hasn’t stopped brewing ever since he’d informed the two high gods about his plans of having a kid. Now that the said kid was in his arms, these helpless and hopeless feelings were rampant and almost on loop. It has only been a day and Namjoon felt like he was the worst parent ever. 

Haeil pointed at his foot and when Namjoon looked down, he gasped at the bleeding toe. It was the smallest toe and it wasn’t bleeding a lot, but the mere fact that Haeil got hurt because - why did Namjoon forget to slip on shoes on Haeil’s feet? - was enough for Namjoon to get teary. 

“Hurts,” Haeil sniffled, cheeks stained with tears blending in with the dust from the long walk. “Appa, carry me please?”

Namjoon quickly agreed, having no reason to deny him. Namjoon would never deny Haeil anything. He’s so smitten with his own kid he wanted to protect him and make him safe but he’s not doing so great on that one at the moment. 

“Uh,” the man who appeared before them a while ago had almost forgotten if Namjoon was being honest. So when Haeil tucked his face against his father’s neck and peeked from the shoulder to look at the intruder, Namjoon sighed and turned around to face him. 

He could still use his powers even if he was on earth, but since he was outside the pantheon, he wanted to save his energy and make sure to still perfectly guide the moon in the evenings. He could still throw a few punches and run away. But he really hoped he didn’t need to go down that path considering that he has a - wounded - kid in his arms. 

“Who are you?”

Nsmjoon eyed the lanky man, dressed in an awful tattered shirt and ripped pants. He had black hair that reached his nape. He looked tall but still small compared to Namjoon. He was smiling at Haeil, making him turn a bit, angling Haeil away from the stranger. 

“I’m Jung Hoseok,” he introduced, bowing down formally. Namjoon didn’t react but then realized that he should level himself with humans and not tell anyone that he was the moon god. For his safety and selfishness. Of course. 

But maybe, Hoseok only bowed like that since compared to him, Namjoon was dressed in his best robes even if it was his least favorite ones and the simplest set, too. Hoseok wasn’t at all a mess, but he wasn’t wearing clean clothes, that was certain.

“Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon responded blankly, hugging Haeil closer while wiping the kid’s tears. “This is my son,” Namjoon couldn’t help but smile at the words, “Kim Haeil, my little plum.”

Haeil bowed at Hoseok, eyes wide and fingers toying at the collar of Namjoon’s shirt. 

“I’m three years old,” Haeil explained and Hoseok beamed widely.

“And a very brave boy,” Hoseok praised instead, eyeing the bleeding toe. He looked at Namjoon quickly and the moon god wanted to know what was running in his mind. He looked serious and sincere and Namjoon felt his stomach churning for almost believing these emotions on the human’s face. 

But Hoseok flashed a heart-shaped smile, a smile so rare yet so beautiful and Namjoon couldn’t look away. He gingerly placed the containers on the ground and slowly approached them. Namjoon had already forgotten Samshin’s gifts for them. (He was quietly relieved that Hoseok got them but he wouldn’t say it out loud. He wouldn’t thank a mere human for something so fiddling.) Namjoon stood firm, trying to make sense of his aura and his emotions but when he felt nothing, Namjoon decided to wait and see what could happen next. 

“Can I see where Haeil is hurt?” Hoseok asked carefully, eyes blinking at the moon god. “If you’ll let me, I can make it better.”

“Are you secretly a god?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. Hoseok looked at him and furrowed his brows. 

“How I wish,” Hoseok chuckled. “But I’m only human with knowledge on treating wounds.”

Namjoon cursed himself internally, throwing stupid questions—exposing himself. He remained quiet and nodded when Hoseok glanced at him again, asking if he could hold Haeil’s ankle. 

“I think you scrape your toe, Haeil,” Hoseok mumbled, lifting the foot carefully. “But the wound isn’t at all deep. Let me just clean it and wrap it—”

Namjoon only sighed, annoyed that humans were too weak and pathetic at times like this. Hoseok was taken aback by the reaction and opened his mouth to say something but Namjoon curled his hand around Haeil’s ankle and blew on the tiny foot. He was almost pleased with himself when he heard Hoseok screech and take a couple of steps back. Haeil giggled happily in his arms and then lifted his other foot. Namjoon puffed out air and Haeil’s dirty dirty feet were now clean and healed. 

“Appa is a god,” Haeil cheered, leaning his head against Namjoon’s shoulder and yawning widely. Namjoon didn’t flinch or panic, it was the truth after all. It gave a different sense of pride, hearing those words from his son. He also liked it when Hoseok looked bewildered for a moment before schooling his features and smiling brightly at Namjoon. If he considered Haeil’s words something to trust or to fear then it’s all up to Hoseok. Namjoon didn’t mind. If fed his divinity ego and he was going to bask about it through and through. 

“Oh, and I am only a mere human,” Hoseok said instead.  “What is the god and his son doing here with us?” 

Namjoon only hummed and fixed Haeil’s pants. He wanted to flick a rock on Hoseok’s forehead for addressing him incorrectly but Haeil was too intrigued to interact, something he’d definitely gotten from his father. But said father was feeling petty at the moment, hence the loss of words. 

“Appa says we’re going on a trip,” Haeil giggled when he felt his father’s fingers on his chubby legs, his touch tickling him. “We’re going to watch the night glow at night!”

“Fireworks, little love,” Namjoon explained. He watched as Hoseok nodded, the heart-shaped smile back on his lips. It confused him, a lot. That smile was enough to make Namjoon feel less…violent. He wasn’t exactly violent, but he’s just—the moon god would easily get annoyed with humans. That was all. 

“Oh, the New Years’ celebration! That’s 100 days from now,” Hoseok informed them. “That sounds like a wonderful trip.”

Namjoon only nodded and remained silent. He watched the sky slowly turn orange, a soft reminder of the ending of the day. The air turned cooler, making Haeil relax in his arms, the sweat no longer uncomfortable on his skin. 

“Are you going to see it, too, Seokie?”

Seokie? Namjoon blinked at his son, a true copy of him, without a doubt. Namjoon liked it, but calling a human with names of his own didn’t sit right on Namjoon’s mind. How can his son be so—

“I’ve always wanted to see it up close but…” Namjoon was intrigued. He looked at Hoseok and waited for him to continue. Hoseok looked down to the ground, stacking the thumbs of his feet on top of the other, shy. He looked less of a human, Namjoon thought. Looked like a baby deer instead, suddenly terrified and scared and—

“But I don’t have money to travel that far,” Hoseok grinned sheepishly. “I’m poor unlike you,” he eyed Namjoon quickly and bowed again, “should I address you something? I didn’t mean to—it’s not every day you bump into divinity in the forest.”

“I call him appa,” Haeil chirped, still energetic. Namjoon thought he was falling asleep a while ago but it looked like it wasn’t the case. He saw the human trying to contain his giggle, cheeks flushing. His lips curled upward when he heard the faintest sound of Hoseok’s laughter. 

They sounded so bright.

“Namjoon is just fine,” Namjoon easily gave in, mind and mouth suddenly detached from each other. He’s usually well-composed, always eloquent except for the times he’s consumed 6 cups of rice wine. That wasn’t something he wished to recall at the moment so he blew those thoughts away and stared at Hoseok. 

He wanted to correct himself but Hoseok was already smiling brightly at him and making him relent. Heavens, his smile was so rare that Namjoon couldn’t stop fawning at it. Humans can be really deceiving , he thought to himself. 

“We must be on our way,” Namjoon announced suddenly, feeling Haeil’s hands around his shoulders, toying with the sleeves of his shirt. He must be tired, skipping nap time when it was a routine for growing kids like him to get some break at midday. “My son and I need to find shelter.”

“Oh, if you don’t mind,” Hoseok offered, grabbing at the wrapped containers and stepping closer to the moon god. The human even lowered his head, politely acclaiming his status - the way their clothes differ was outstanding - and asking humbly—

“Will you let me accompany you to the first tavern to the nearest town we see in exchange for a couple of bronze coins?”

Namjoon cocked a perfectly manicured brow at the human. 

“Ah,” Namjoon said coldly. “You’re the likes of them, serving the money god, I see.”

Hoseok stared back at him, meeting Namjoon’s gaze. “I don’t serve the money god, but I am desperate for a few morsels of bread and a warm bed. Money is the only way a human like me can secure at least one of those things.”

Namjoon didn’t even flinch at the hidden meaning and heat of his words. The moon god liked it better when Hoseok would laugh or smile. Looking so pensive wasn’t a pretty color on Hoseok’s face, the moon god realized. 

“Can’t he come appa?” Namjoon patted Haeil’s back, lulling him to sleep. He had to admit, Hoseok would come in handy carrying their things while he carried Haeil on their trip. But he wasn’t still convinced, still hesitant about having Hoseok around. But for the past minutes that they’ve been together, Hoseok hadn’t done anything harmful against him, especially to Haeil. That alone was something he could use as a reason to trust and have hope for some stranger. 

At least, until the moment they found a temporary shelter, Namjoon could peacefully bond with Haeil and learn a lot of things about his son. And, learn this parenting thing, something that he’s been dreaming of doing for decades. 

He looked at Hoseok one last time then kissed Haeil’s forehead, pushing his face by the back of his head to his neck. “Sleep, little plum. I’ll wake you when we get there.” 

He mumbled it so easily when “there” was still abstract if the moon god was being honest. Haeil relented, finally stopped fighting off sleep, and pressed himself against his father’s chest. Namjoon breathed in Haeil’s scent, his cotton and baby scent that had already grown in his olfactory. He looked at Hoseok who was staring at him, eyes wide, almost pleading and hopeful. 

Namjoon wasn’t one of the strongest gods, he would have to admit. Especially when he’s found something so rare and intriguing like Jung Hoseok. 

“Say,” Namjoon croaked, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and swayed around a bit, looking away. After finally mustering all the courage he could - Seokjin wouldn’t let him sleep if he would find out how much of a limp radish he had become in front of a mere human - and swallowing the lump in his throat, the moon god looked at Hoseok, eyes fleeting on his entire look one last time. 

Namjoon realized that Hoseok needed a lot of help, as much as he needed help in raising a kid. 

“Can you really help us find a place to stay?”

Hoseok’s face lit up and Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from looking at the bright smile fondly. 

—

The light on the gaslamp wasn’t as bright as the sound of Hoseok and Haeil giggling and playing around the room. 

It turned out, Hoseok didn’t just manage to find them a room in a tavern, but found them a nice small villa at the quiet side of the town, closer to the river and the flower fields. At first, Namjoon thought that it was a scheme since Hoseok looked like he was friends with the old man who guarded the villas around town. But when they wandered around the town to get dinner, Namjoon learned that Hoseok was just too friendly and outgoing that even the grumpiest waiter serving them their grilled meat was smiling at the end of their meals. 

“I should take a bath,” Hoseok announced, finally falling on the floor and groaning when Haeil slammed his body on his frame. 

Namjoon was sitting by the window, a low table with a ceramic basin filled with water in it. He was looking at the moon, already waning into its next form. The breeze felt different on earth, more humid, hotter, and less pleasant. But Haeil was here before him and it was enough for Namjoon to stay and dread for the remaining ninety-nine days. 

And he wouldn’t admit it, but it’s nice to get to know more about Hoseok, too. It’s for understanding humans better, he mentally argued. Seokjin would remind him again and again that he humans were not innately bad and this was his chance to test it? Prove it? Namjoon sighed, eyes up in the sky, watching the moon. He dipped a finger into the bowl and swirled the water. The moon brightened and glowed, the clouds moving away from it, lightening everything it touched. 

The moonlight flickered through the open window and Haeil gasped when he saw the soft pale light. 

“Seokie! Appa did his power, look!"

Hoseok sat up as Haeil crawled towards Namjoon. 

“Oh,” Hoseok whispered, pressing his soles together and placing his hands on his knees. “You’re the moon god.”

Namjoon only hummed and almost flipped the bowl when Hoseok moved and bowed deeply before him. 

“What—”

“It’s not every day you bump into a god,” Hoseok said, voice airy and light. “It’s a long overdue greeting, I apologize.” 

The moon god only nodded and pulled his son onto his lap. 

“It’s alright, you’ve already done a lot,” Namjoon assured, oddly feeling nice. He hated humans but Hoseok was a complete antithesis of it all, it’s mildly disturbing. He’s only known Hoseok for less than a day and yet—Seokjin would seriously be having a field day.

“Thank you for taking me in,” Hoseok added, forehead still pressed on the woven floor. “If I can still be of your service, I’d be glad to—uh, do them?”

Namjoon raised a brow when Hoseok peeked at them. Hoseok giggled and bit his bottom lip. “Uh, sorry,” Hoseok mumbled shyly. “It’s just—I’m not very good with words. But I am truly thankful for your help, god Namjoon—uh, is that right? What should I call you, moon god?”

“Namjoon is just fine,” Namjoon smiled back. “We’ve already discussed this.”

Hoseok grinned and sat up properly. “Uh, thank you. Again. I mean it. But of course. Uh, I mean. You should take a bath first, you and Haeil, I mean.”

So Namjoon mutely did that - cheeks flustering for reasons unknown -  he got up, headed to the bathroom, and slid the door close only to look down at Haeil blinking widely at him. 

“Appa?” Namjoon looked at the copper tub and the wooden bucket. There’s a tiny fire pit at the corner of the room where a large cauldron filled with water was being heated. The moon god scanned the room again and then looked at Haeil. 

For starters, Namjoon knew how to take a bath. There’s a massive lake behind his house up in the clouds where the stream flows with hot water and the moment it would reach the end, it would be cold enough for a nice dip. There were sprites who would help him bathe, holding vials filled with soaps and oils and dressing him to change into his robes. 

He’s, however, not back at the pantheon. There were no sprites to help him with his bath. He couldn’t even bring Haeil up to the pantheon because they would still need to celebrate their 100 days on earth. Fuck. he’s only down to 99. 

“Appa? Bath time?”

Namjoon shut his eyes. “Of course, little plum.”

“What the—?”

Minutes later, Hoseok flinched when Namjoon dashed out of the bathroom. He was busy unpacking the two large containers and setting the food trays and spare pairs of clothes when the moon god came back to the lounge area, holding Haeil against his waist. Haeil was giggling and flapping his legs in the air. 

“Can I help you with anything?” Hoseok asked, pressing a palm on his chest, breaths labored. 

“Appa is confused,” Haeil chimed in helpfully. 

“Very much so, I have to admit,” Namjoon added, furiously blushing while looking at Hoseok. 

In the end, Hoseok asked Namjoon to stand and watch how bathing works on earth. Namjoon was attentive, watching as Hoseok used the bar of soap and the old rag to scrub at Haeil’s every nook and cranny. The moon god had to admit that the process was a lot . He didn’t know how he could survive the next ninety-nine days bathing as the humans do. 

“It’s alright, I can give Haeil his bath if you want,” Hoseok piped up as he toweled Haeil and chuckled when the little boy flashed his pearly white teeth. Namjoon glanced at him, eyes squinting at the human. He wouldn’t admit that he was relieved, wanting to appear that he’s a responsible and a better parent. But Hoseok was kind and gentle and inhumanely willing, Namjoon had simply beamed at him. 

“I’ve already shown you how it’s done,” Hoseok chuckled, carrying Haeil in his arms and walking out of the bathroom. “I’ll leave your change of clothes by the chair outside the bathroom. I’ll take a bath in the other bathroom at the back of the villa.”

As soon as the door shut, Haeil’s tickling giggles and Hoseok’s soft whisperings fueled Namjoon’s heart at a rapid rate. He deemed that Hoseok was a nice human. But at the same time, he couldn’t believe that an actual nice human existed. 

He’s one day down, and still has ninety-nine days to go. He should focus on raising Haeil but rules in the pantheon didn’t apply on earth. He couldn’t simply just exhaust his powers in making things possible. He’s glad that he has Hoseok with him but whenever he would close his eyes and let his mind wander elsewhere, he’d see that rare heart-shaped smile and would stand still. 

He’s glad that he finally has Haeil in his arms, but he’s also secretly glad that he’s bumped into Hoseok—the nice human who seemed to…well, be willing and determined to help him raise Haeil.