The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the crimson curtains of the Royal Scarlet Room, casting a warm hue over Y/N’s peaceful form. She lay sprawled on the luxurious bed, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she slumbered without a care in the world, cocooned in the comfort of silk sheets. But her outer calm was deceptive. Today was no ordinary day—her brothers, the seven deadly Gods, were returning to the palace. The thought, buried deep in her subconscious, would have terrified her if not for the bed’s enchantment, which lulled her into a false sense of peace.

As Y/N lay there, blissfully unaware of the impending whirlwind, Milly, her tiny fairy companion, fluttered into the room. The delicate blue wings of the fairy shimmered under the morning light as she darted closer to Y/N’s sleeping figure.

“Y/N, wake up!” Milly’s voice was soft but insistent, her wings buzzing softly around Y/N’s ear. When there was no response, the fairy huffed and playfully pulled at Y/N’s earlobe. “Come on, sleepyhead, your brothers are arriving today. Don’t you want to welcome them?”

At the mention of her brothers, Y/N’s eyes snapped open. Her heart skipped a beat as the weight of today’s events came rushing back. The seven deadly sins—her brothers—were coming, and her father, the Demon King, had made it clear that she must be there to greet them. For a moment, Y/N lay there, her mind racing. The thought of meeting these seven powerful, dangerous beings both excited and terrified her.

With a start, she sat up in bed, looking around in panic. “What time is it? Am I late?” she blurted out, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Milly giggled at Y/N’s sudden confusion. “No, no, you’re not late, but you should get ready soon,” the fairy chimed, her tiny hands resting on her hips. “Look, the maids are already here.”

Y/N blinked and, for the first time, noticed the group of demon maids gathered at the foot of her bed. They stood silently, their eyes downcast, but Y/N could feel their cold, judging stares. A wave of discomfort washed over her.

“Why are they all here?” she asked, feeling uneasy as she glanced at Milly, then back at the maids.

“They’re here to help you get ready for today. Like a princess should,” Milly said, a playful lilt to her voice as she fluttered near Y/N’s face. “You can’t meet your brothers dressed like that,” she added, pointing to Y/N’s simple nightgown. “You need to look… royal.”

Y/N’s face twisted in displeasure as she threw off the silk sheets. “I’m not going to doll up in those ridiculous gowns and heavy accessories,” she declared, her voice firm. The very thought of it made her cringe. She wasn’t the kind of girl who enjoyed dressing up or wearing extravagant clothes. She preferred simplicity, a trait that often clashed with the expectations of her royal lineage.

Milly’s wings fluttered in frustration, her tiny face scrunching up. “But you have to! You’re the royal princess now. The queens won’t be happy if you show up in something plain. They’ll insist on tradition.”

Y/N groaned and slumped back onto the bed, her arms splayed out dramatically. “But Father will let me off, right? He knows I hate all this.”

Milly shook her head with a knowing sigh. “Not this time. Your father might spoil you in other things, but he’s strict about this. You need to wear something fitting for the occasion.”

Y/N frowned, clearly unhappy. Her shoulders slumped as the weight of expectation pressed down on her. She was tomboyish at heart, a girl who preferred comfort and practicality over the frills and decorations of royal life. Yet here she was, faced with the reality of her new role—a role she never really asked for.

“Fine,” she muttered, her voice laced with reluctance. “I’ll do it, but I’m not happy about it.”

Milly, sensing her frustration, floated closer and landed softly on Y/N’s hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll look beautiful, and everything will be fine. Besides, your brothers will be here soon. You don’t want to miss their grand entrance, do you?”

The mention of her brothers stirred a flutter of nervousness in Y/N’s chest. Her brothers—the Seven Deadly Gods—were legends, feared and respected by all. She had never met them before, yet the thought of them made her anxious. What would they be like? Would they accept her as their sister, or see her as an outsider?

Milly gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine, Y/N. Just breathe.”

With a resigned sigh, Y/N stood up and allowed the demon maids to approach. There were three of them—Mina, Julie, and Sofie. Though their faces were impassive, Y/N could feel the barely concealed disdain radiating from them. They moved around her in silence, their movements curt and precise, treating her with cold indifference.

As they began their work, Mina, the tallest of the three, spoke in a clipped tone. “Hold still.”

Y/N could sense their contempt. She wasn’t like them—she was human, after all, and though she was the Demon King’s daughter, her bloodline wasn’t entirely pure. To the maids, serving her was a duty they resented. It was as if their service to her was a stain on their pride.

Sofie, the youngest maid, muttered under her breath, “Why do we even have to do this? She’s not one of us.”

Julie shot Sofie a warning glance but said nothing. They continued to dress Y/N, their hands rougher than they needed to be, and though Y/N noticed their rudeness, she chose to remain silent. She had grown used to the cold treatment from the demon servants, though it still stung.

Milly, perched on the nearby vanity, watched the scene unfold, her tiny eyes narrowing at the maids’ behavior. “Don’t let them get to you, Y/N,” she whispered softly in Y/N’s ear. “You’re more important than they’ll ever be.”

Y/N forced a small smile, though her heart wasn’t in it. She stood still as they draped a royal gown over her—a deep, velvety red dress adorned with golden embroidery. The gown was beautiful, though far more elaborate than anything Y/N would have ever chosen for herself. They placed a tiara on her head, its diamonds gleaming in the morning light, and adorned her with jewelry far heavier than she was comfortable with.

“There,” Mina said, stepping back to admire their work. “Now you look like a proper princess.”

Y/N glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes widening in surprise. She barely recognized herself. The gown, the jewels, the perfectly styled hair—it was all too much, too royal.

“I feel ridiculous,” Y/N muttered, tugging at the sleeves of the gown. “I’m not used to any of this.”

Milly floated beside her, offering a cheerful smile. “You look amazing, Y/N. Your brothers will be proud.”

Y/N sighed heavily. “I just hope I don’t trip over this thing,” she muttered under her breath. The nerves were creeping back in, stronger now. Her brothers were coming, and she would be expected to stand before them, to welcome them into the palace. The very thought made her stomach churn.

Noticing her discomfort, Milly fluttered closer. “Everything will be fine, Y/N. You’ll see.”

Y/N nodded slowly, though her nerves still buzzed beneath the surface. She glanced out of the window, her thoughts turning to her brothers. They were arriving soon, and her father, the King, had summoned her to the throne room to meet them. The very idea made her feel both excited and utterly terrified. What if they didn’t like her? What if she wasn’t what they expected?

But there was no time to dwell on those thoughts. The Demon King was waiting, and so were her brothers.

“Let’s get this over with,” Y/N murmured, squaring her shoulders as she followed the maids and Milly out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest.

____________

The dark and majestic palace hummed with an air of anticipation. The grand corridors were lined with red-carpeted paths, and the scent of incense filled the air as demons rushed to ensure everything was perfect. The princes—beings of immense power, danger, and eternal beauty—were finally returning after centuries. No servant dared make a single mistake; one wrong move could earn the wrath of the Sins, and no one in the palace wished to become a victim.

In the throne room, Hwang Min-sung, the Demon King, sat regally on his massive black throne, draped in luxurious red velvet. His red eyes burned with authority, flickering slightly with the faint glow of the flames that surrounded the room. Beside him stood his three wives: Kim Minsu, the eldest queen, her kind eyes gentle yet full of wisdom; Min Jin-sung, the second queen, cold and strict, her posture rigid as if nothing could faze her; and Park Ha-eun, the youngest and most manipulative of the queens, her smile sweet but hiding something much darker beneath.

The room was thick with tension as they awaited the arrival of the princes. They had not seen their sons for centuries, and even the Demon King felt the weight of the moment, though his face remained stoic. Just then, the large double doors creaked open, and Y/N entered, her scarlet gown sweeping the floor behind her.

Milly fluttered beside her, a tiny yet comforting presence. Y/N had never felt more out of place in her life. The gown clung to her figure, embroidered with golden threads that sparkled in the light. She looked like a princess, but deep down, she hated it—the weight of the jewels, the tightness of the corset, the pomp and formality.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before bowing respectfully to the King and his queens. “Father. My Queens,” she said, her voice soft but firm.

Kim Minsu, the kind queen, smiled warmly. “You look beautiful, Y/N,” she said gently. “A true princess of the realm.”

Park Ha-eun, always one to indulge in flattery, chimed in, “Yes, my dear. The gown suits you perfectly.”

Y/N forced a smile, though the compliment made her feel even more uncomfortable. “Thank you,” she replied, bowing her head. She had to play the part, at least for now.

Min Jin-sung, however, remained silent, her cold eyes assessing Y/N with a critical gaze before turning back to the King. Before Hwang Min-sung could speak, the doors burst open once more, and a nervous guard entered, his hands trembling slightly as he bowed deeply before the King.

“Your Majesty,” the guard said breathlessly, “the princes have arrived.”

A slow smile spread across the Demon King’s lips, a smile that sent shivers through the room. “Good,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Bring them in.”

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves deep in her stomach. She had heard stories about her brothers—the Seven Deadly Sins—but she had never met them. They had been away for so long, and their legends were enough to make anyone uneasy. As the doors opened again, she stepped aside, her heart pounding.

Just then, Duke Byun-seok, a royal advisor who had always made Y/N uneasy, approached her. “Princess Y/N,” he greeted, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of something darker today. His eyes lingered on her, and for the first time, Y/N felt a shiver of warning crawl up her spine.

“Duke,” Y/N responded, her tone polite but guarded. There was something off about him today—something that made her want to keep her distance.

“Be careful, Princess,” Milly whispered in her ear, sensing Y/N’s unease. “There’s something strange about him.”

Y/N nodded subtly, making a mental note to keep her guard up.

And then they arrived.

The seven princes entered the throne room with an air of power and authority that made the entire room go still. They moved in unison, their faces devoid of emotion, their presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying. They were gods in every sense of the word—eternal, unyielding, and impossibly beautiful.

Jin, the eldest and the God of Gluttony, led the group. His features were sharp, his golden eyes cold and calculating. His brothers followed behind him, each more striking than the last. Namjoon, the God of Greed, had a look of perpetual impatience, his eyes flicking around the room as if nothing could satisfy him. Jimin, Lust incarnate, had a smirk on his lips, his gaze lingering on every person in the room with a hunger that made Y/N’s skin prickle. Taehyung, Wrath, radiated a quiet, seething anger, his eyes narrowed as if ready to explode at any moment.

Jungkook, the youngest and the embodiment of Envy, walked with a dark intensity, his fists clenched as he scanned the room, his eyes gleaming with jealousy. Hoseok, the God of Sloth, moved with lazy grace, his eyes half-closed as if he were perpetually bored by everything around him.

But it was Yoongi who made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat. He walked in the center, his presence more commanding than any of the others. His pale skin and black hair contrasted sharply with his blood-red eyes, making him look both beautiful and deadly. Yoongi, the God of Pride—Lucifer himself—moved with an otherworldly grace, his face completely emotionless, yet somehow more terrifying than all the others combined.

Y/N’s eyes met Yoongi’s for a split second, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. His gaze was like ice—sharp, piercing, and utterly devoid of warmth. She couldn’t look away, even though every instinct in her body screamed at her to do so. There was something about him—something dark and dangerous—that drew her in, even as it terrified her.

But beside Yoongi was another figure—a woman. She was cold and arrogant, her sharp eyes scanning the room with disdain as if she were above all of it. Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion and dislike. Who was she? The throne room was for royalty and advisors only, yet this woman seemed to care little for protocol. Y/N’s gaze lingered on her, trying to figure out who she was and why she was here.

The Demon King’s voice cut through the tension in the room, deep and authoritative. “My sons,” he greeted them, but the princes brushed off his greeting coldly. Jin stepped forward, his eyes full of disdain as he looked at his father.

“Why have you called us here, Father?” Jin’s voice was sharp, laced with bitterness. “I have no interest in your theatrics.”

The air in the room seemed to freeze. The tension between the Demon King and his sons was palpable, and even the queens shifted uncomfortably. Y/N watched the exchange with wide eyes, sensing the deep rift between them.

The King, however, remained calm. He knew his sons well—he knew they wouldn’t take any unnecessary pleasantries. With a small, almost amused smile, he cut straight to the point.

“I called you here because there is someone important you must meet,” he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Namjoon scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

But the Demon King ignored him, his gaze fixed on his sons. “I wanted you to meet your sister.”

At that moment, the air in the room shifted. The princes froze in their places, disbelief and shock flickering across their faces. Y/N could feel the weight of their stares on her, and her heart pounded in her chest. Her brothers—the Seven Deadly Sins—were finally seeing her, and the realization hit them like a tidal wave.

Jungkook’s fists clenched, his eyes narrowing as he processed what he had just heard. “Our sister?” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “The mortal one?”

Taehyung’s eyes darkened with fury. “Why now? Why bother introducing her to us after all these years?”

Jin’s lips twisted into a sneer, his anger barely contained. “We heard about her, but we didn’t care then. Why should we care now?”

Yoongi, however, remained silent, his eyes locked on Y/N. His expression was unreadable, but there was a dangerous intensity in his gaze that made Y/N’s breath hitch. She could feel the weight of his pride—the very essence of Lucifer—bearing down on her, as if he were assessing her, testing her worth.

For a moment, the room was utterly still, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

Then, Yoongi spoke, his voice soft but filled with quiet power. “Why now, Father?” he asked, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “What game are you playing?”

The Demon King leaned back in his throne, his smile widening. “No game, Yoongi. It is time for you to know your sister. Time for her to take her place in this family.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

Y/N stood frozen, caught between fear and excitement. Her brothers were finally here, but their coldness and disdain made her question everything she had hoped for. This was her family—her blood—but would they ever accept her? Or was she destined to remain an outsider, forever living in their shadows?

The atmosphere in the throne room felt suffocating. Every corner of the vast, ancient hall seemed to shrink as Y/N stood quietly at the side, her heart pounding in her chest. The Demon King's deep voice resonated through the chamber, authoritative and commanding.

“Y/N,” the King’s voice boomed, making her flinch slightly, “come forward.”

Y/N’s hands trembled subtly as she took a deep breath, composing herself. Her steps were slow, cautious, as if each one was leading her closer to judgment. The heavy fabric of her scarlet gown swished against the cold marble floor. She kept her gaze fixed down, unwilling to meet the fierce eyes of the seven princes, who were undoubtedly watching her every move.

Her heart raced. She could feel their intense, piercing stares, each one heavier than the last, filling the room with an almost tangible tension. Her mind was spinning, filled with excitement, nervousness, and the heavy weight of uncertainty. This moment had been long in the making, yet now that it was here, it felt too real, too overwhelming.

Standing before the King, Y/N bowed her head respectfully, her fingers curling tightly around the folds of her gown to hide her shaking hands.

“My sons,” the Demon King began, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and command, “this is Y/N, your sister. My daughter, and the rightful Princess of the Underworld.”

Y/N's heart pounded harder, the words ringing in her ears. She felt their eyes boring into her, making her throat tighten. What were they thinking? She dared not look up, not yet.

There was a pause, the room heavy with tension as the King gestured toward Y/N, inviting her into the harsh spotlight. “She has lived in the mortal realm, away from us, but her blood is no different from yours.”

The silence that followed was deafening. She could feel the weight of seven pairs of eyes locked onto her, studying, scrutinizing. The air was thick with an invisible force as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

“Raise your head, Y/N,” the King instructed, his voice softening slightly.

Y/N obeyed, lifting her chin slowly. Her eyes, hesitant but determined, scanned the faces of her brothers. They stood in a line, still, emotionless, and impossible to read.

One by one, the King introduced the princes, each name followed by the Sin they embodied.

“This is Jin, the eldest, God of Gluttony,” the King began, his voice reverberating through the chamber. Jin’s sharp, golden eyes flicked over Y/N as if assessing her worth in a single glance. His lips curled into a faint sneer, but he said nothing, his gaze cold and dismissive.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat dry, but she nodded respectfully. “Brother Jin,” she addressed him softly, her voice steady, though her heart was racing.

Next, the King moved to Namjoon. “Namjoon, God of Greed.” Namjoon’s silver eyes glimmered with impatience, his arms crossed as he looked at her with thinly veiled annoyance. He didn’t acknowledge her at all, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“Brother Namjoon,” Y/N spoke, her tone even, but it was clear from his demeanor that her words fell on deaf ears. He couldn’t care less.

The King continued, introducing each prince.

“Jimin, the embodiment of Lust.”

Jimin, with his magnetic presence, merely smirked at Y/N, his eyes lingering a moment too long. It was unnerving, but she met his gaze without flinching. “Brother Jimin,” she said, though his predatory grin made her uncomfortable.

“Taehyung, Wrath.”

Taehyung’s expression was dark, his gaze simmering with barely contained fury. He looked as though any moment he could explode, and Y/N instinctively felt herself tense under his glare. “Brother Taehyung,” she said, her voice soft but unshaken.

“Hoseok, the God of Sloth.”

Hoseok gave her a lazy glance, as though the very act of looking at her was an inconvenience. His eyes drooped, and he yawned, not even bothering to greet her. Still, Y/N bowed her head. “Brother Hoseok,” she whispered, though it seemed like he barely noticed.

“And Jungkook, God of Envy.”

Jungkook’s eyes were the darkest of all, filled with something deeper, more dangerous. His jaw clenched as he stared at her, an intensity in his gaze that made Y/N’s skin prickle. “Brother Jungkook,” she said, her voice faltering slightly as she faced him.

But it was Yoongi, the last brother, who made Y/N’s breath catch. “And finally,” the King said, his voice laced with pride and something darker, “Yoongi, the God of Pride—Lucifer himself.”

Yoongi stood slightly apart from the others, his presence more commanding, more dangerous. His red eyes were like burning embers, sharp and calculating. His face was emotionless, but there was something in his gaze that sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. When their eyes met, it felt as though the entire world had frozen for a moment. His eyes, devoid of warmth, bore into hers, and she felt her stomach twist with a mixture of fear and fascination.

“Brother Yoongi,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but even that small sound seemed to echo in the silent room.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long, tense pause, he finally spoke.

“I have no sister.”

His words sliced through the air like a blade, sharp and final. Y/N felt a stab of pain in her chest, but she forced herself to stand tall. She had known this wouldn’t be easy. She had prepared for this, and yet hearing it from him—hearing the utter rejection in his voice—hurt more than she expected.

The other princes exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from indifference to mild surprise. Jin scoffed quietly, Namjoon rolled his eyes, and Taehyung clenched his fists.

“Is this what you brought us here for?” Namjoon asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “To introduce us to someone we don’t care about?”

Jin added coldly, “We’ve lived centuries without her. What difference does it make now?”

The King’s eyes flicked to his sons, his expression hardening slightly, but Yoongi spoke again before he could respond.

“A mortal sister,” Yoongi repeated, his tone cold and mocking. “You expect us to welcome her? A girl who knows nothing of our world? Our power? Our struggles?” He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face. “She doesn’t belong here.”

Y/N felt her heart pound harder, but she refused to back down. She had prepared herself for this, for their rejection, but hearing Yoongi’s bitter words stung deeply. His presence was overwhelming, and the intensity in his eyes made her feel small, insignificant.

But she was determined not to let him break her spirit. She had a mission—to unite her family, to bring her brothers together. And she wasn’t going to let Yoongi’s cruel words stop her.

“I may not have lived your life,” Y/N said quietly but firmly, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “But I am your sister, and nothing can change that. I don’t expect you to accept me today or even tomorrow. But I’m not going anywhere, brother.”

The room went silent. Even the other princes looked taken aback by her words. Yoongi’s expression remained cold, but there was something in his eyes—something dark and dangerous—that flickered for a moment before it disappeared.

Yoongi’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re determined,” he said, his voice laced with mockery. “That’s cute. But determination won’t save you in our world, sister.”

Y/N held his gaze, her heart racing but her resolve unshaken. “I don’t need saving,” she replied softly. “I just need time.”

Yoongi stared at her for a long moment, his red eyes boring into hers, as if he were trying to see past her words, past her façade. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his brothers following him one by one.

The tension in the room lifted slightly, but the air was still heavy with unspoken words. Y/N stood there, her heart heavy but her mind resolute. She knew this was only the beginning—her brothers were powerful, dangerous, and emotionally detached, but she wouldn’t give up.

She had come here to unite them, and that’s exactly what she would do.

Thanks ❤