He sighs, utterly bored and wishing he was watching his shamans unleash their havoc.

Seokga envies Yeomra right now. Unable to leave Jeoseung, Yeomra joins these monthly meetings by using some bizarre mortal contraption that allows his face to be projected onto the screen at the front of the dining room. That means he doesn’t need to eat any of this food. Although right now, Yeomra is watching the proceedings with thinly veiled longing in his black eyes.

Sitting across the low table, pinching one disgusting specimen of corn dog, is Hwanin. The heavenly emperor’s blue-black eyes flecked with stars meet Seokga’s for a brief moment before his lips twitch and he sets the corn dog down with an air of grim finality. Next to him, his son is happily munching away, looking quite proud of himself for his contribution to this month’s dinner.

Seokga rolls his eyes but must admit Hwanung’s cheerful little crunches are a nice break from the heavens-shaking fights Okhwang has been riddled with lately. It’s rare, nowadays, that Hwanung’s mouth is (relatively) shut and not screaming expletives at his father about anything and everything.

Focused on the foul food, Hwanung is also leaving Seokga alone, which is a pleasant change. Ever since Seokga’s return, Hwanung has been by equal turns furious with and terrified by him. Many times, Seokga has caught the law god trailing him as if scanning for any sign of wrongdoing to report to his father. Like a few other members of the pantheon (especially Samsin Halmoni), Hwanung has never quite forgiven Seokga for stabbing his father in the back by leading thousands of Dark World monsters into Okhwang and then having the audacity to call the attempted coup “just a bit of fun.” He’s quite certain that if given half the chance, Hwanung would hurl him back down to Iseung.

Seokga formed this theory after Hwanung explicitly told him that if he was given half the chance, he would hurl him back down to Iseung. The dangerous glint in the boy’s eyes had told Seokga he’d meant it. The boy is always dancing with danger—from dating fierce bear-shifters to challenging Okhwang’s seasoned warriors to cage fights. He looks dangerous now, too: studs in his bottom lip, leather jackets, and hair that is no longer bleached silver like his father’s but is instead a shaggy dark purple.

“Delicious,” Dalnim snarfles. The usually dainty moon goddess is attacking her food like a lion would its prey. Next to her, her twin, Haemosu, stares in delight as the mozzarella cheese stretches to an impossible length as he pulls the corn dog away from his handsome face.