Hello! Welcome to my page, here I'll be writing for: The Saja boys & Huntrix from Kpop Demon Hunters + The Sakamaki, Mukami, Tsukinami brothers & Kino from Diabolik Lovers + Obey Me characters + various Tokyo Revengers characters in any timeline, and the male love interests from Love and Deepspace.
WHAT I WRITE:
Reactions (i.e. Saja Boys react to you...)
Scenario's
Poly Relationships with reader.
Fem! Reader, S/O and Male/Femboy! Reader
Romantic + Platonic relationships
Smut + Fluff + Angst & Comfort
AUs (i.e. alpha! Sakamaki brothers, etc.)
I can write fics with no reader.
WHAT I DON'T WRITE:
Dominant Reader
Any weird/disgusting kinks
No incest/stepcest or family-related.
No minor x adult, etc (Only Platonic!).
Cheating, sorry not sorry but the topic of cheating makes me so angry. 😭
can the reader be a rusty-spotted cat and they like to be carried and taken care of by Derpy
She has the habits of her cat species and like to be up at night and is a solitary creature
The rusty- spotted cat are known for being the smallest cat on earth with amazing climbing abilities to escape from predators
Ofc!! Such a cute idea, here you go. (3
PS!! Sorry for the lack of updates, I have some sort of flu that makes me bed sick and I had no energy to write, but I'm slowly starting to be better. :)
Poly! Saja Boys x Rusty-spotted Cat! Reader | Midnight Bonds
The clock struck midnight as you perched silently on the windowsill of the Saja Boys' shared penthouse apartment, your enhanced amber eyes easily cutting through the darkness that would blind most humans. Your compact frame—barely reaching most people's shoulders even when standing—made it effortless to balance on the narrow ledge, your incredible climbing abilities allowing you access to places others could never reach. As the world's smallest wild cat species in hybrid form, you possessed all the traits that made rusty-spotted cats legendary: nocturnal instincts, solitary nature, and an almost supernatural ability to scale any surface when danger threatened.
The soft patter of your bare feet against the cool marble floor barely registered as you slipped through the window Jinu had left open for you—a nightly ritual you'd both established months ago. Your rusty-brown spotted fur pattern, visible along your arms and legs in your hybrid form, seemed to shimmer in the moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The white markings around your large eyes helped you navigate the darkness with ease, though your boyfriends had long since learned to accommodate your nocturnal schedule.
"You're early tonight, little wildcat," came Jinu's familiar voice from the shadows. Even after all this time together, his charismatic presence still made your heart skip. The demon leader of the Saja Boys stepped into the moonlight, his straight black hair slightly mussed from what had probably been another late-night strategy session. His dark brown eyes held that familiar warmth reserved only for you and the other boys—so different from the calculated coldness he showed the outside world.
You approached him with the characteristic cautious grace of your species, still maintaining that instinctive wariness even around those you loved most. "The city's too loud tonight," you murmured, your voice carrying that soft, almost whispered quality that came naturally to you. "I needed somewhere quiet."
Jinu's expression softened immediately. Despite his duplicitous nature with others, he had never once lied to you about his feelings. His arms opened in invitation, and you found yourself gravitating toward him like you always did. When he pulled you against his chest, you couldn't help the soft purr that rumbled from your throat—a sound that never failed to make him smile.
"The others are in the living room," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Mystery's been worrying about you since you disappeared after dinner."
Your ears twitched at the mention of Mystery, the enigmatic lavender-haired vocalist whose reserved nature matched your own solitary instincts perfectly. Unlike the others who sometimes overwhelmed you with attention, Mystery understood your need for space, your preference for quiet moments and gentle touches. His hidden eyes behind those perpetual bangs had seen you at your most vulnerable, and somehow that made you feel safer rather than exposed.
The living room was dimly lit when you and Jinu entered, exactly how you preferred it. Your enhanced night vision immediately picked out each of your boyfriends scattered across the expansive space. Baby was curled up in an oversized armchair, his fluffy turquoise hair catching the soft glow from the television screen. Despite being the group's main rapper with the deepest voice, he looked impossibly young in the low light, and your protective instincts flared even though you were technically the youngest in the relationship.
"There's our night owl," Romance called softly from the couch, his heart-shaped pink hair making him easily identifiable even in the darkness. His naturally flirtatious nature had been toned down to gentle affection when it came to you—he'd learned early on that your skittish nature didn't respond well to overwhelming displays of attention.
Mystery looked up from where he'd been reading in comfortable silence, and even though you couldn't see his eyes, you felt the weight of his concerned gaze. Without a word, he set his book aside and patted the space next to him on the couch. It was an invitation, not a demand—something all of them had learned was crucial when dealing with your independent nature.
You hesitated for only a moment before padding over to him, your feet making virtually no sound against the floor. The gracefulness of your movements never ceased to amaze them, like watching a wild creature navigate its natural habitat. When you settled beside Mystery, he immediately draped a soft blanket around your shoulders, understanding without words that you sought comfort rather than conversation.
"Rough night?" Abby's voice came from across the room, where the group's main dancer was doing stretches by the window. Even in casual clothes, his muscular frame was evident, but there was nothing predatory in his posture—just genuine concern for your well being. Unlike his vain stage persona, Abby had always been surprisingly perceptive when it came to the subtle signs of your discomfort.
You nodded, unconsciously pressing closer to Mystery's warmth. "Too many people today. Too much noise," you whispered, your voice barely audible even to their enhanced demon hearing. "I needed to climb somewhere high, but everything in the city is glass and steel."
It was Baby who spoke up from his chair, his usually playful demeanor replaced by something gentler. "The rooftop garden," he suggested quietly. "Jinu had those climbing walls installed last month."
Your ears perked up immediately, and you looked to Jinu with hopeful eyes. He'd mentioned the addition to their penthouse but hadn't shown you yet, claiming he wanted it to be perfect first. The thought of having a safe place to climb—to exercise the instincts that made you feel most like yourself—sent a warm flutter through your chest.
"Show me?" you asked, the first genuine smile of the evening crossing your face.
The transformation in your boyfriends was immediate. Jinu's manipulative mask completely dropped, replaced by something soft and devoted. Mystery's hidden smile was evident in the way his shoulders relaxed. Romance sat up straighter, his flirtatious energy shifting into something more nurturing. Baby abandoned his chair to join the group, and Abby finished his stretches with renewed purpose.
"Come on then, little wildcat," Jinu murmured, offering you his hand. "Let's go climbing."
The rooftop garden was breathtaking in the moonlight. Jinu had clearly spared no expense, creating an environment that catered specifically to your hybrid nature. Natural stone climbing walls wound between carefully cultivated plants that would thrive in Seoul's climate, and the entire space was designed to mimic the rocky outcroppings and dense vegetation of your species' natural habitat.
But what made your heart truly soar was the sight of Derpy lounging contentedly near a small water feature, his blue-furred form unmistakable even in the darkness. The demon tiger's perpetual grin widened when he spotted you, and he immediately began that endearing obsessive behavior of trying to straighten a small potted plant that had been knocked slightly askew.
"Derpy!" you called softly, and the gentle giant's head snapped up immediately. Despite his intimidating size and demonic nature, Derpy had always been incredibly gentle with you. His cat-like behavior resonated with your own feline instincts, and there was something deeply comforting about his simple, loyal nature.
You approached him slowly, respecting the territorial instincts that all cats—demon or otherwise—possessed. When you were close enough, you extended your hand for him to sniff, a greeting ritual that felt natural to both of you. His massive head butted gently against your palm, and that familiar creaking bamboo sound accompanied his movements as he settled beside you.
"He's been waiting for you," Jinu said softly, settling cross-legged on the ground beside you both. "Every night since you started coming by, he positions himself right here."
The revelation made your heart clench with emotion. In your human life before meeting the Saja Boys, your solitary nature had often been mistaken for antisocial behavior. People didn't understand that you weren't unfriendly—you simply processed the world differently, needed space to recharge, functioned best in the quiet hours when the rest of the world slept.
But these five demons and their faithful companion understood you in ways no human ever had. They'd adapted their schedules to match your nocturnal preferences, created spaces where you could indulge your climbing instincts, and never once made you feel like your needs were burdensome or strange.
"Can I climb?" you asked, already eyeing the carefully constructed stone walls with excitement.
"That's what it's here for," Romance said, settling onto a cushioned bench where he could watch. "Show us what our little wildcat can do."
The first touch of natural stone beneath your fingers sent a thrill through your entire body. This was what you'd been missing, what your instincts had been crying out for all day. With fluid grace, you began to ascend the climbing wall, your compact size and incredible agility making the seemingly difficult route look effortless.
Your boyfriends watched in fascination as you moved, understanding now why you'd seemed so restless lately. In the city, surrounded by glass towers and concrete, you'd been unable to properly exercise the instincts that were as much a part of you as breathing. Here, scaling the carefully crafted stone surfaces, you were completely in your element.
"She's incredible," Baby murmured, his usually deep voice filled with awe.
"Our little escape artist," Abby added with affection. "No wonder she can disappear so easily when she wants to."
Mystery said nothing, but his posture radiated contentment as he watched you climb. Of all of them, he understood best the need to retreat, to find solace in solitude when the world became too overwhelming. Your nocturnal nature and his mysterious persona had created a bond built on comfortable silences and gentle understanding.
When you finally descended from the highest point of the climbing wall, your movements were liquid smooth, demonstrating the arboreal skills that your species used both for hunting and escaping predators. You landed silently beside Derpy, who immediately began purring—a sound that rumbled through his massive chest like distant thunder.
"Better?" Jinu asked, though the answer was written clearly in your relaxed posture and bright eyes.
"Much better," you confirmed, settling between Mystery and Derpy with a satisfied sigh. "Thank you. All of you."
Romance moved to sit beside you, his usually flirtatious energy subdued to something warmer and more intimate. "We want you to be happy, sweetheart. All of us do."
It was true, you realized as you looked around at your unusual family. Despite their demonic nature, despite Jinu's complicated past and the others' lost souls, they had created something beautiful together. Your polyamorous relationship worked because each of them brought something different to the table, fulfilled different needs, understood different aspects of your complex hybrid nature.
Jinu provided stability and protection, his charismatic leadership making you feel secure even when your solitary instincts urged you to flee. Mystery offered understanding and quiet companionship, never pushing for more than you were comfortable giving. Romance brought gentle affection and emotional warmth, his flirtatious nature tempered into something soft and nurturing just for you. Baby's youthful energy balanced your more serious nature, while his competitive spirit encouraged you to embrace your own strengths. Abby's perceptiveness helped him anticipate your needs before you even voiced them, his confidence providing a steady anchor when your anxiety peaked.
And Derpy—sweet, loyal Derpy—offered the kind of unconditional affection that resonated with your feline instincts on the deepest level.
"I love you," you whispered into the quiet night, the words encompassing all of them. "Even when I need space, even when I disappear for hours—I love you all."
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Jinu's arms tightened around you from behind. Mystery's hand found yours beneath the blanket. Romance pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. Baby moved to sit at your feet, his head resting against your knee. Abby settled beside Derpy, completing the circle of your chosen family.
"We love you too, little wildcat," Jinu murmured against your hair. "All of you. Your independence, your nocturnal schedule, your climbing obsession, your need for quiet—every part of you."
As the night wore on, your boyfriends took turns sharing the space beside you, respecting your need for individual attention while maintaining the group dynamic that made your relationship work. Baby entertained you with quiet stories about his day, his deep voice a soothing rumble in the darkness. Romance serenaded you softly, his beautiful voice carrying across the rooftop garden like a lullaby. Abby demonstrated some of his quieter dance moves, the flowing motions almost meditative in the moonlight. Mystery simply held you, his presence a comforting anchor in the peaceful night.
And through it all, Derpy remained a steady, purring presence beside you, occasionally grooming your hair with gentle swipes of his massive tongue—a gesture that should have felt strange but instead felt like coming home.
As dawn approached, you felt your natural energy beginning to wane. Your species was primarily nocturnal, most active during the dark hours when the rest of the world slept. The approaching sunrise triggered your body's natural inclination to rest, to find a safe, quiet place to sleep away the daylight hours.
"Getting sleepy, sweetheart?" Romance asked softly, noticing the way your eyes were beginning to droop.
You nodded, unconsciously pressing closer to Mystery's warmth. "The sun's coming up soon."
"Inside then," Jinu decided, his protective instincts kicking in. "We'll darken the bedroom, make it comfortable for you."
The migration back inside was conducted with the same quiet efficiency they'd developed over months of accommodating your schedule. Blackout curtains were drawn, the air conditioning was adjusted to the cooler temperature you preferred, and soft music was set to play at barely audible levels—just enough to mask any daytime city sounds that might disturb your rest.
In the massive bed they all shared, you found yourself in the center of a protective circle. Your polyamorous relationship had its own rhythm and rules, developed through trial and error as you all learned to navigate the complexities of loving multiple people while honoring each individual's needs.
Mystery settled on your left, his quiet presence immediately soothing your settling instincts. Romance curled up on your right, his natural warmth perfect for your cat-like need for comfortable sleeping conditions. Jinu positioned himself as the outer guard, his protective nature ensuring you felt safe even in your most vulnerable state. Baby claimed the spot at your feet, his smaller frame fitting perfectly in the remaining space. Abby arranged himself near the edge of the bed, always alert to any sounds that might disturb your rest.
And just outside the bedroom door, Derpy had already settled into his favorite guarding position, his loyal nature ensuring that no disturbance would reach you during your daylight rest.
"Sweet dreams, little wildcat," Jinu whispered as your breathing began to even out.
"Sleep well, sweetheart," Romance added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Mystery said nothing, but his hand found yours beneath the soft blankets, his thumb tracing soothing patterns against your palm.
Baby's soft humming provided a gentle soundtrack as you drifted off to sleep, while Abby's steady breathing created a rhythm that your own lungs naturally synced with.
In the space between waking and sleeping, you marveled at how perfectly your life had aligned. Your solitary nature hadn't been eliminated by love—instead, it had been understood and accommodated. Your nocturnal schedule wasn't seen as an inconvenience but as simply another part of who you were. Your need to climb, to escape, to find quiet spaces wasn't viewed as antisocial behavior but as necessary self-care.
The Saja Boys had created a space where you could be completely yourself—hybrid instincts and human emotions, wild nature and domestic affection, solitary creature and beloved partner. In their arms, surrounded by their love and Derpy's protective presence, you had found something you'd never thought possible: a home that honored every aspect of who you were.
As sleep finally claimed you, the last thing you felt was the gentle rumble of Derpy's purr echoing through the walls, a sound that spoke of contentment, safety, and unconditional love. Tomorrow night would bring new adventures, new opportunities to climb and explore and be wild. But for now, in the quiet darkness of the early morning hours, you were exactly where you belonged—surrounded by the demons who had become your chosen family, loved for every fierce, independent, beautifully feline part of your soul.
The rusty-spotted cat had found her pride, and they had found their perfect missing piece.
WAIT WAIT WAIT— in the "Famous in my hometown" I wanna see the reactions of the Saja boys (Poly) of ZhouZhou! FEM! reader's pictures outside of the video 🤣
In the video I linked can you please give the reactions of the Saja boys seeing ZhouZhou!'s funny printed face everywhere?? 🥹
Continuation: The Saja boys and their s/o walk around the hometown since s/o is giving them a tour and now they see... Their s/o's face everywhere...
Ofc! Here you go. (3
Famous in My Hometown - Part 2: Face Everywhere
The morning sun cast long shadows across the narrow streets of your hometown as you led the Saja Boys on what you'd promised would be a "simple walking tour." You'd been chattering excitedly about the local market, the old temple, and your favorite childhood spots, completely oblivious to what awaited you all around the first corner.
"So this is the main street," you were saying, gesturing animatedly as you walked backwards in front of them, your natural energy infectious even in the early morning. "It's not much, but there's this amazing baozi stand that's been here since my grandmother was little, and—"
You stopped mid-sentence as you noticed all five of your boyfriends had come to a complete halt, their expressions ranging from bewildered to utterly stunned.
"什么 (What)?" you asked, turning around to see what had captured their attention so completely.
And then you saw it.
Your face. Your actual face—specifically, that ridiculous expression you'd made in one of your most viral videos where you'd tried to fit an entire dumpling in your mouth—was printed on a giant banner stretched across the street. The text below it read: "欢迎回家 Y/n! 我们的骄傲!" (Welcome home Y/n! Our pride!)
"Oh," you said weakly. "I... forgot about that."
But that was just the beginning.
As your little group continued down the street in stunned silence, it became increasingly apparent that your hometown had fully embraced your internet fame in ways you'd never imagined. Your face—dozens of different expressions from various viral videos—was everywhere.
Jinu's Reaction:
The leader of the Saja Boys prided himself on being prepared for anything. As a demon who had lived for centuries, he thought he'd seen every possible scenario. He was wrong.
"Jagiya," he said slowly, his voice carefully controlled as he stared at a shop window that featured no fewer than fifteen different printed photos of your face arranged in a shrine-like display, "exactly how famous are you here?"
His dark eyes swept the street, taking in banner after banner, poster after poster, all featuring various expressions from your viral content. There was the one where you'd sneezed mid-sentence during a live stream and somehow made it adorable. The one where you'd tried to wink but ended up looking like you were having a facial spasm. The one where you'd laughed so hard at your own joke that you'd fallen out of frame entirely.
"This is..." he paused, searching for words as he watched an elderly man walk by wearing a t-shirt with your face printed on it, "unprecedented."
But despite his shock, there was something warm in his expression as he watched you grow increasingly flustered. This was his girlfriend. His chaotic, brilliant, accidentally-famous girlfriend who had somehow become the beloved mascot of an entire town without even realizing it.
"You're a living legend," he said softly, and there was unmistakable pride in his voice.
Romance's Reaction:
If there was anyone in the group who understood the power of image and visual impact, it was Romance. He lived for drama, for spectacle, for moments that took your breath away. But nothing had prepared him for this.
"Darling," he breathed, his voice carrying that theatrical quality that made everything sound like poetry, "you didn't mention you were a literal icon."
He struck a dramatic pose in front of a particularly large banner that featured your face mid-laugh, your eyes crinkled with joy. "Look at this artistry! The composition! The way they've captured your essence in each image!"
Romance moved from poster to poster like he was touring an art gallery, his hands gesturing expressively as he provided commentary. "This one—pure joy. This one—mischievous charm. And this one..." he paused in front of a picture of you looking completely bewildered after a cooking disaster, "this one is my personal favorite. The vulnerability, the authenticity, the—"
"Romance," you interrupted, your face burning with embarrassment, "please stop critiquing my meme faces."
"Meme faces?" He looked genuinely offended. "These aren't memes, my love. These are portraits of happiness itself. Your hometown has created a gallery dedicated to the many facets of your beautiful soul."
He pulled out his phone and immediately started taking artistic photos of himself posing with your various printed expressions. "The fans need to see this. The symmetry! The poetry! The—"
"Romance, no!" you lunged for his phone, but he danced away, still rhapsodizing about the "visual narrative of your journey to viral stardom."
Mystery's Reaction:
Mystery, true to his nature, said nothing at first. He simply walked slowly down the street, his hair falling across his face as he took in the surreal sight of his girlfriend's expressions plastered on every available surface.
He stopped in front of a small convenience store whose entire front window was covered in a collage of your faces. His hidden gaze lingered on each image, and though his expression was unreadable, there was something soft in the set of his shoulders.
"I understand now," he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the street noise.
"Understand what?" you asked, moving to stand beside him.
"Why you were nervous about us coming here." His voice carried that gentle quality that always made your heart skip. "You thought we'd be overwhelmed by all this attention, didn't you?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
"But you don't see what I see." He turned slightly, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of his eyes through his hair. They were warm, fond, completely unguarded. "I see a community that loves you exactly as you are. Every silly face, every moment of chaos, every genuine laugh—they've preserved it all because it brings them joy."
He reached out and gently touched your hand. "You're not just famous here. You're beloved. And now I understand why."
His gaze returned to the window display, and his voice grew even softer. "You give people permission to be joyful. To be ridiculous. To be themselves without apology. That's not just fame—that's magic."
Abby's Reaction:
Abby had always been the most straightforward of the group, preferring action to words and simple truths to complex emotions. But standing in the middle of a street lined with his girlfriend's face, he found himself completely speechless.
"Holy shit," he finally managed, staring up at a three-story banner that featured you making bunny ears behind your own head while cross-eyed. "Babe, you're literally everywhere."
He started laughing—not at you, but with pure delight at the absurdity of the situation. "This is insane! Look at this!" He gestured wildly at a food cart that had your face printed on its umbrella. "Even the snack vendors are part of your fan club!"
His laughter was infectious, and despite your embarrassment, you found yourself giggling along with him. "It's a bit much, isn't it?"
"A bit much?" Abby picked you up and spun you around, his strength making it effortless. "Baby, this is the most amazing thing I've ever seen! Your hometown turned you into a tourist attraction!"
He set you down but kept his arms around you, his expression growing more serious. "Do you know what this means? This means that when you were just being yourself—no makeup, no script, no plan—you made people so happy that they wanted to celebrate you. They wanted to make sure everyone who visits this place knows that you're theirs."
His voice cracked slightly with emotion. "I'm so proud of you I can barely stand it."
Baby's Reaction:
Baby had been unusually quiet during the walk, his youthful appearance masking the ancient mind that was rapidly processing the implications of what he was seeing. When he finally spoke, his deadpan delivery somehow made his words even more impactful.
"So," he said, stopping in front of a bus stop where a bench was decorated with a series of your most expressive faces, "when you said you made 'some content' and it 'did okay,' you were being modest."
"Baby, I—"
"Because this," he gestured at the literal shrine to your internet personality that the bus stop had become, "this is not 'doing okay.' This is 'accidentally becoming the unofficial mascot of an entire town.'"
Despite his dry tone, there was something almost protective in the way he positioned himself next to you, as if he could shield you from your own embarrassment through sheer force of will.
"For what it's worth," he continued, his voice softer now, "I think it's beautiful. Not the banners—though those are objectively hilarious—but the fact that you exist so genuinely that people can't help but love you."
He paused, studying a particularly unflattering freeze-frame of you mid-sneeze that someone had blown up to poster size. "Also, your timing is terrible and your expressions are ridiculous, and somehow that makes you more loveable, not less."
"Thanks?" you said, not sure if you'd been complimented or roasted.
"It was a compliment," he assured you with that slight almost-smile that was as close to beaming as Baby ever got.
The Market Discovery:
Just when you thought it couldn't get more overwhelming, your group reached the local market—and discovered that your internet fame had spawned an entire economy.
"Oh no," you whispered, staring in horror at a vendor selling t-shirts, mugs, key chains, and even phone cases, all featuring various screenshots from your videos.
"Oh YES," Romance corrected, immediately gravitating toward a display of dramatic prints featuring your most expressive moments.
The vendor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a business-savvy smile, immediately recognized you. "Y/n! 你回来了 (you are back)! And you brought the handsome boys!"
Before you could respond, she was pressing merchandise into your hands. "For you, no charge! And for your boyfriends too—everyone in town knows about them now!"
"Everyone knows?" you squeaked.
"Of course! The internet, it's very fast. Your grandmother, she's very proud. She bought fifty key chains yesterday to give to her mahjong friends."
Jinu stepped forward smoothly, his leader instincts kicking in as he saw you beginning to spiral. "Thank you so much for your kindness. We're honored to be here."
The vendor beamed at him. "So polite! Y/n, you chose well. All five of them, very handsome, very respectful."
"All five?" Mystery echoed quietly.
"Oh yes, the whole town knows about the polyamory situation. Very modern! Very progressive! We're very proud of our Y/n for being so... how do you say... authentic to herself!"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Well," Abby said finally, "I guess we're officially out of the closet."
"In the most public way possible," Baby added dryly.
Romance, meanwhile, had discovered a display of artistic prints featuring moody, black-and-white versions of your viral expressions. "These are actually quite sophisticated," he mused. "The vendor has real artistic vision."
"Romance, please don't buy my face," you pleaded.
"Too late," he said cheerfully, already pulling out his wallet. "I'm getting the whole collection."
The Temple Incident:
The final straw came when you reached the old temple at the edge of town—your planned quiet, reflective stop where you'd hoped to share something meaningful about your childhood and spiritual connection to the place.
Instead, you found a small crowd of tourists taking selfies with a bronze plaque that had been installed near the entrance. As you got closer, you could read the inscription:
"In honor of Y/n, beloved daughter of our town, who brings joy to millions while never forgetting her roots. May her laughter echo through these halls for generations to come."
"They installed a plaque," you said faintly. "There's a plaque. With my name on it. At the temple."
"It's beautiful," Mystery said softly, and he meant it.
"It's permanent," you corrected, sinking down onto the temple steps. "Oh god, it's permanent. I can never live this down. My great-great-grandchildren are going to know about my viral dumpling face."
Jinu sat down beside you, his presence steady and calming. "Is that really such a terrible thing?"
"Yes! Maybe? I don't know!" You buried your face in your hands. "I just... I never expected any of this. I was just being myself, and somehow that turned into... into..."
"Into bringing happiness to thousands of people?" Romance suggested gently, settling on your other side.
"Into creating a legacy of joy?" Mystery added, his voice carrying that quiet wisdom that always seemed to ground you.
"Into proving that authenticity is magnetic?" Abby chimed in, leaning against the temple pillar.
"Into accidentally becoming a symbol of living without apology?" Baby concluded, his deadpan delivery somehow making the words more profound.
You looked up at them—five impossibly beautiful demons who had somehow fallen in love with your chaotic, unfiltered humanity—and felt something shift in your chest.
"You really don't think it's too much?" you asked quietly.
"Darling," Romance said, gesturing expansively at the plaque, the tourists, the general atmosphere of celebration that seemed to surround your very existence in this place, "we're demons pretending to be K-pop idols who fell in love with an internet sensation. 'Too much' isn't in our vocabulary."
"Besides," Jinu added, his voice warm with affection, "watching you realize how deeply you're loved has been the best part of this entire trip."
"Even better than the merchandise?" you asked, glancing at the shopping bags Romance was still carrying.
"Well," Baby said thoughtfully, "the key chain of your sneezing face is pretty excellent."
Despite everything, you started laughing. And once you started, you couldn't stop. Your laughter echoed off the temple walls, bright and genuine and completely unself-conscious—the same laugh that had made you famous, the same laugh that had made five demons fall in love with you, the same laugh that had inspired an entire town to celebrate your existence.
"Come on," you said finally, standing up and wiping tears from your eyes. "Let's go see what else they've turned into a Y/n monument. I have a feeling we've only seen the beginning."
As you led them deeper into the town, past more banners and posters and shrines to your accidental fame, you couldn't help but notice the way they looked at you—not with embarrassment or overwhelm, but with pure, undiluted pride.
You were their chaotic internet girlfriend whose face was plastered all over her hometown, and they couldn't have been happier about it.
Later that evening, back at your grandmother's house:
"So," your grandmother said as you all sat around the dinner table, "I see you discovered the town's little tribute project."
"Little?" you squeaked. "Nai Nai, there's a plaque with my name on it at the temple!"
"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally, ladling more soup into Mystery's bowl. "The town council was very excited when your videos started going viral. They wanted to show their support."
"By turning me into a tourist attraction?"
"By celebrating their daughter," she corrected gently. "You think this is embarrassing, but I think it's beautiful. A whole community that loves you enough to put your joy on display for the world to see."
Jinu nodded thoughtfully. "She's right. What we saw today wasn't exploitation or embarrassment. It was love. Pure, uncomplicated love."
"The kind of love that says 'this person matters, this person brings light to our world, and we want everyone to know it,'" Romance added, uncharacteristically sincere.
Your grandmother smiled approvingly. "These boys understand. You should listen to them."
"Plus," Baby added with perfect timing, "the merchandise sales are probably helping the local economy. You're literally bringing prosperity to your hometown through the power of viral content. That's actually kind of impressive."
"Leave it to Baby to find the economic angle," Abby laughed, but his expression was fond.
As the conversation continued around you, filled with warmth and laughter and the kind of acceptance you'd never dared hope for, you found yourself thinking that maybe—just maybe—being loved this loudly wasn't such a terrible thing after all.
Your face might be everywhere, but your heart was exactly where it belonged: surrounded by family, both chosen and given, who loved you not despite your chaos, but because of it.
And really, what more could an accidentally famous internet personality turned demon-K-pop-idol-girlfriend ask for?
if you’re open to ideas, i’d really enjoy a poly!saja boys x f!reader where she’s a quiet, mysterious kitsune who hides her ability to cast illusions and charm others. it would be fascinating to see how they’d react when they find out and how protective they’d become afterward
Ofc! Here you go. (3
The rain drummed against the windows of your small apartment as you carefully adjusted the charm bracelet around your wrist—a family heirloom that helped suppress your more obvious supernatural traits. Living among humans required constant vigilance, especially when you were dating five of the most famous idols in Korea. Well, "dating" was perhaps too simple a term for the complex relationship you shared with the Saja Boys.
You'd met them six months ago at a fan meet, though you'd attended more out of curiosity than genuine fandom. Something about them had felt... different. Familiar, even. While other fans screamed and swooned, you'd remained quietly observant, your enhanced senses picking up subtle wrongness in their scents, in the way shadows seemed to bend around them just slightly.
When Jinu's dark eyes had met yours across the crowded venue, you'd felt a jolt of recognition—not of his face, but of something deeper. Something that called to the fox spirit ancestry flowing through your veins. The other members had noticed too: Mystery's hidden gaze lingering on you despite his hair covering his eyes, Romance's heart-shaped bangs shifting as he tilted his head in interest, Abby's confident smirk faltering slightly, and Baby actually looking up from his phone to stare.
That night, Jinu had somehow found your number. Then Romance had texted. Then Mystery had sent a single, cryptic message. Before you knew it, you were entangled with all five of them in a relationship that defied conventional labels but felt surprisingly natural.
They didn't know what you were, of course. To them, you were simply their quiet, mysterious girlfriend who seemed to understand their hectic lifestyle and never asked too many questions about their odd schedules or the way they sometimes disappeared for days at a time.
Your phone buzzed with a text from Romance: "Rehearsal running late. Can you meet us at the studio? Missing you ❤️"
You smiled softly, gathering your things. Even after months together, they still made your heart flutter. You'd grown to love each of them differently—Jinu's protective intensity and hidden vulnerability, Romance's charming flirtatiousness that masked surprising depth, Mystery's enigmatic presence that somehow felt like home, Abby's confident exterior hiding genuine care, and Baby's playful nature that seemed to see right through you sometimes.
The BigHit building was nearly empty when you arrived, your soft-soled shoes making barely a whisper against the polished floors. Your enhanced hearing picked up their voices from the practice room three floors up, along with something else—a strange, metallic scent that made your fox instincts prickle with unease.
You took the elevator up, but as the doors opened, you heard what sounded like an argument.
"—getting too close to her," Jinu's voice, strained with something that sounded almost like pain. "She doesn't know what we are."
"None of our other relationships lasted this long," Abby's deeper voice replied. "There's something different about her."
"She makes me feel..." Mystery's rarely-heard voice was so quiet you had to strain to listen. "Human."
Your heart clenched. Whatever they were discussing sounded serious, and the pain in their voices was unmistakable. You pressed closer to the partially open door, your enhanced senses picking up elevated heart rates and that strange scent growing stronger.
"We should tell her," Romance said, his usually playful tone subdued. "If she runs—"
"She'll run," Baby interrupted, his voice lacking its usual cheerful lilt. "Humans always do when they find out what we really are."
What we really are. The words sent a chill down your spine. You'd suspected they were hiding something, but hearing it confirmed was different.
"Gwi-Ma won't let us keep her anyway," Jinu said, and you heard footsteps pacing. "You know what happened to the last demon who tried to—"
The word 'demon' hit you like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made sense—their otherworldly beauty, the way shadows seemed to love them, the strange scents you'd been picking up, their odd schedules. Your Saja Boys were demons.
Your foot shifted slightly, causing the old floorboard to creak.
The conversation inside stopped abruptly.
"Someone's listening," Mystery's voice was sharp now, alert.
Before you could flee, the door swung open, revealing Jinu's tense form. His dark eyes widened when he saw you standing there, face pale with shock.
"Y/N," he breathed, and you could see the moment he realized how much you'd heard.
The other four appeared behind him, their expressions ranging from guilt to fear to something that looked almost like relief.
"How long have you been standing there?" Romance asked gently, his usual charm tempered with concern.
You swallowed hard, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "Long enough."
The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truths and fears. You could see them preparing for your rejection, for you to scream or run or do whatever humans typically did when confronted with the supernatural.
Instead, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you.
"I need to tell you something too," you said quietly, your voice steadier than you felt.
You reached up and slowly removed the charm bracelet from your wrist. Immediately, the suppressed aspects of your nature began to surface—your eyes shifting to reflect light like an animal's, your canine teeth becoming slightly more pronounced, and most noticeably, a pair of fox ears materializing atop your head, your (h/c) hair seeming to shimmer with hints of deep red.
The Saja Boys stared in stunned silence.
"I'm a Kitsune," you continued, watching their faces carefully. "Half-human on my mother's side, but my father's bloodline traces back to the fox spirits of the ancient forests. I've been hiding it my whole life."
Baby was the first to break the silence, a laugh of pure amazement escaping him. "You're kidding."
"She's not," Mystery said, his voice filled with wonder. "I can sense it now. How did we not realize?"
"The bracelet," Abby said, his analytical mind already working. "It was masking your supernatural signature."
Jinu stepped closer, his eyes fixed on your face. "You knew," he said, not quite a question. "About us. You knew we weren't human."
You nodded. "I suspected. My enhanced senses picked up things that didn't quite add up. But I..." you took a breath, "I didn't care. I fell in love with you—all of you—for who you are, not what you are."
Romance moved next, closing the distance between you with that fluid grace you'd always admired. "Do you know what this means?" he asked, his heart-shaped bangs trembling slightly. "You're not human either. You're like us."
"Not exactly like you," you said softly. "I don't serve any demon king. I don't steal souls or manipulate humans. I just... exist. I cast minor illusions sometimes, when I need to blend in better. I can sense emotions and sometimes influence them slightly, but I try not to. It doesn't feel right."
"Show us," Mystery said, speaking up from where he'd been silently observing. "The illusions."
You hesitated, then closed your eyes and concentrated. The practice room around you shimmered and shifted, the walls seeming to dissolve into a peaceful forest clearing. Moonlight filtered through imaginary leaves, and the scent of jasmine and pine filled the air. It wasn't real—anyone touching the walls would still feel the solid surface—but the visual and olfactory illusion was perfect.
When you opened your eyes, the Saja Boys were staring at you with expressions of awe and something that looked like hunger.
"Beautiful," Jinu breathed.
You let the illusion fade, suddenly self-conscious. "It's nothing compared to what you can do. I've seen you perform—the way you command crowds, the supernatural charisma you project. I know you're powerful."
"We're monsters," Baby said quietly, his youthful face serious for once. "We drain human souls to feed our master. We manipulate emotions not for survival, but for power."
"Are you?" you asked, looking at each of them. "Monsters, I mean. Or are you just... trapped?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. You could see the internal struggle in their faces, particularly in Jinu's eyes.
"We've done terrible things," Romance said finally. "To survive, to serve Gwi-Ma. We've hurt people."
"So have I," you admitted quietly. "When I was younger, before I learned control, I accidentally influenced people's emotions when I was upset or scared. I made a teacher forget to assign homework once because I hadn't studied. I convinced a bully to leave me alone by making him attracted to someone else. They were small things, but they were violations of free will. Does that make me a monster too?"
"That's different," Abby protested. "You were a child learning control. We're—"
"Demons who've been forced into servitude for centuries?" you interrupted gently. "Jinu, how old were you when you made your deal with Gwi-Ma?"
His jaw tightened. "Young. Desperate. Starving."
"And the rest of you?" You looked around the group. "How many of you chose this freely, versus being coerced or manipulated into it?"
Their silence was answer enough.
You stepped closer to them, your fox ears twitching slightly as you picked up the subtle changes in their scents—hope mixing with fear, desire warring with self-doubt.
"I know what you are," you said firmly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
The transformation in their expressions was immediate and intense. Relief, joy, and something fiercely protective flashed across their faces.
Jinu reached you first, his hands cupping your face gently as if you might disappear. "You're sure? When Gwi-Ma finds out about you—"
"Let me worry about Gwi-Ma," you said, leaning into his touch. "I'm not as helpless as I look."
"The hell you're not," Romance said, moving to your other side. "Do you have any idea how dangerous our world is? Gwi-Ma doesn't just kill threats—he destroys them completely. Soul and all."
"He can try," you said with quiet confidence that surprised even you. "Kitsune aren't known for being easy to kill. We're tricky, we're clever, and we're very, very good at surviving."
Mystery laughed, the sound rusty but genuine. "She's right. Fox spirits are notorious for being nearly impossible to pin down. Remember the stories?"
"This isn't a story," Abby said, though his protective instincts were clearly warring with admiration. "This is real danger."
"Which is exactly why you need to let us protect you," Baby added, his playful demeanor completely absent. "All of us. No more hiding what you are, no more pretending you're just another human fan."
You felt overwhelmed by the intensity of their protectiveness, but also deeply touched. "I've been taking care of myself for years—"
"Not anymore," Jinu said firmly, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You're ours now. Really ours. And we protect what's ours."
"Even from Gwi-Ma," Romance added, his flirtatious mask completely gone, replaced by steel determination.
"Especially from Gwi-Ma," Mystery corrected, his hidden eyes somehow conveying absolute certainty.
The possessiveness in their voices should have been frightening, but instead it sent warmth flooding through your chest. You'd never belonged anywhere completely, always having to hide parts of yourself. But here, with these five demons who understood secrets and dual natures, you finally felt whole.
"There's something else," you said softly. "Something I haven't told you about Kitsune abilities."
They waited, attention focused entirely on you.
"We can share emotions. Not just sense them, but actually share them through touch. It creates a bond that's... intimate. Deeper than normal relationships." You looked around at their faces. "If you want, I could show you what you mean to me. What each of you means to me."
"Yes," Jinu said immediately.
"Is it safe?" Abby asked, ever practical even in his concern.
"For you, yes. For me..." you hesitated. "It would make me more vulnerable to you. You'd be able to sense my emotions more clearly, and I'd feel yours more strongly. It's not something Kitsune do lightly."
"But you want to do it," Mystery observed. "With us."
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
Romance stepped forward, extending his hand palm-up. "Show me."
You took his hand, closing your eyes and opening that carefully guarded part of your spirit. Immediately, you felt his emotions wash over you—surprise at the depth of your affection, wonder at being truly seen and accepted, and underneath it all, a fierce protectiveness that nearly took your breath away.
Through the connection, he felt your emotions too—the way his playful charm made you smile even on difficult days, how his unexpected moments of sincerity made your heart skip, the deep trust you'd developed in his fundamental goodness despite his demonic nature.
"Oh," he breathed, his eyes wide. "Oh, Y/N..."
One by one, the others stepped forward to experience the connection. Each bond was unique—with Jinu, you shared the weight of secrets and the relief of finally being understood; with Mystery, a comfortable silence and the intimacy of unspoken communication; with Abby, mutual protectiveness and the stability of being truly seen; with Baby, playful affection mixed with surprising depth of understanding.
When the last connection settled into place, you swayed slightly, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of five distinct emotional presences in your mind.
Strong arms—Abby's—caught you immediately. "Are you okay?"
"Just... intense," you managed, leaning into his solid warmth. "I can feel all of you now. Your emotions, your protective instincts..." You laughed shakily. "You're all so worried about me."
"Because you're precious," Baby said simply, moving to your other side. "And fragile, compared to us."
"I'm really not," you protested, though the overwhelming wave of protectiveness from all five of them was making it hard to think clearly.
"You are to us," Jinu said, his voice gentle but firm. "You're the only good thing that's happened to us in centuries. The only person who's seen what we are and stayed."
"The only one who's made us feel like we could be more than just Gwi-Ma's weapons," Romance added, his hand finding yours.
"Which means," Mystery said, his rare voice carrying absolute authority, "that nothing—and no one—is going to hurt you. Ever."
The promise in their voices was both comforting and slightly terrifying in its intensity. Through your new emotional connections, you could feel the depth of their determination, the lengths they would go to keep you safe.
"What about your obligations to Gwi-Ma?" you asked. "I don't want to cause problems for you."
"Let us worry about that," Jinu said, and through your bond you felt his grim resolve. "We've been looking for a way out for a long time. Maybe it's time we found one."
"Together," Abby added, his arm tightening around you.
"Together," you agreed, finally allowing yourself to fully accept their protection and care.
As the five demons—your demons—gathered closer around you, their supernatural presence enveloping you like a protective barrier, you felt truly safe for the first time in your life. Your fox ears twitched contentedly as you leaned into their combined warmth, no longer hiding any part of yourself.
Whatever challenges lay ahead with Gwi-Ma or the supernatural world, you would face them together. After all, you weren't just a quiet, mysterious Kitsune anymore—you were theirs, and they were yours. And there was very little more dangerous than a pack of demons protecting something they loved.
The rain continued to fall outside, but within the practice room, surrounded by your five protective demons, you felt nothing but warmth and belonging. Your illusions had always been about hiding, but with them, you finally had no need to hide at all.
Through your emotional bonds, you felt their fierce love and protective determination, and you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together—five demons and one fox spirit against the world.
Maybe a poly!Saja boys x f!reader where she’s secretly Gwima’s daughter? 👀 I’d love to see how they’d react when they find out, and how they’d get 🫣💖 Wouldnt mind some angst but id let you decide how the story goes!
Thank you so much for sharing your amazing stories — you’re incredible!! 🫶💗
Here you go. I kinda went overboard...
The neon lights of Seoul painted the night sky in brilliant hues as you stood backstage at the Namsan Tower, your heart hammering against your ribs. Being the newest member of HUNTR/X's management team meant you were still adjusting to the whirlwind that surrounded Korea's most beloved girl group, but tonight felt different. Tonight, the air crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl and your demon heritage stir restlessly beneath the surface.
You'd kept your true nature hidden for months now—the fact that your father was none other than Gwi-Ma, the demon king himself. It was a secret that could destroy everything you'd built, every friendship you'd forged with Rumi, Mira, and Zoey. They trusted you, confided in you about their battles against demons, never knowing that demon blood flowed through your veins like liquid fire.
The irony wasn't lost on you that you'd fallen into working with demon hunters while desperately trying to escape your father's influence. You'd run from the demon realm years ago, choosing to live among humans rather than serve Gwi-Ma's twisted plans. But tonight, as the Saja Boys prepared to take the stage, you could feel his presence pressing against the barriers of the Honmoon like a storm waiting to break.
You were adjusting Rumi's microphone pack when the doors to the backstage area burst open, and they walked in—five figures who seemed to command every shadow in the room. The Saja Boys moved with an otherworldly grace that made your demon blood recognize its own kind immediately. Your hands stilled on Rumi's equipment as your eyes met those of their leader.
Jinu's gaze found yours across the crowded space, and for a moment, time seemed suspended. His dark eyes widened slightly, and you realized with growing dread that he could sense what you were. The same recognition flickered across the faces of Mystery, whose silver-violet hair fell like a curtain across features that remained mysteriously hidden; Abby, whose confident smirk faltered just slightly; Romance, whose flirtatious expression shifted to one of curiosity; and Baby, whose youthful appearance belied the ancient wisdom in his turquoise eyes.
"Well, well," Jinu's voice carried across the space, smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "What do we have here?"
The other Saja Boys flanked him, their movements too synchronized, too predatory. You felt trapped between your loyalty to HUNTR/X and the undeniable pull of recognition from these demons who somehow felt... familiar.
Rumi stepped protectively in front of you, her hand moving instinctively toward the hidden weapon at her hip. "Stay away from her," she warned, not knowing that her protective gesture was both touching and heartbreaking. How could you tell her that the danger came not from them, but from within yourself?
Mystery tilted his head, his hidden eyes seeming to peer straight through you. "She smells like..." He paused, inhaling deeply. "Like home."
Baby's usually playful demeanor grew serious as he studied you with an intensity that made you shiver. "There's something different about this one," he observed, his voice carrying that unsettling depth that contrasted so sharply with his youthful appearance.
Abby pushed off from where he'd been leaning against the wall, his muscular frame moving with predatory grace. "Different how?" His question was directed at Baby, but his eyes never left you.
Romance stepped closer, his pink hair catching the backstage lights as he flashed that megawatt smile that had charmed millions. "Maybe we should get to know our new friend better," he suggested, but there was something calculating behind his flirtatious tone.
You found your voice finally, though it came out smaller than you'd intended. "I... I should go check on the sound equipment." You tried to step around Rumi, but Jinu moved with supernatural speed, suddenly standing directly in your path.
"I don't think so," he said softly, his voice carrying an undertone that made your demon heritage respond against your will. "We need to talk. All of us." His eyes flicked meaningfully toward a side room away from the bustling backstage area.
Mira and Zoey had noticed the tension now, moving to flank Rumi as they faced down the Saja Boys. The air grew thick with unspoken threats and supernatural energy crackling just beneath the surface.
"She's under our protection," Zoey declared, her usual playful demeanor replaced by the steely determination of a trained demon hunter.
Mira nodded, her analytical mind clearly working to assess the threat level. "Whatever you want with her, the answer is no."
Your heart clenched at their fierce loyalty, knowing that it was built on a foundation of lies. How long could you keep deceiving the people who'd become like family to you?
Jinu's expression softened slightly as he looked at their protective stance. For a moment, something almost human flickered in his eyes—a recognition of the bond between you and the hunters that he seemed to understand all too well.
"We're not here to hurt her," he said quietly, and you could hear the truth in his words. "But there are things about tonight, about what's coming, that she needs to understand. Things that we all need to understand."
Baby moved closer, his childlike features serious as he whispered just loud enough for demon ears to hear, "The barriers are weakening. He's getting stronger."
Your blood turned to ice. If Gwi-Ma's influence was growing, if the Honmoon was failing, then your worst fears were coming true. You'd hoped that by staying away from the demon realm, by choosing a different path, you could somehow avoid the inevitable confrontation with your father. But deep down, you'd always known this day would come.
Mystery spoke up, his voice carrying an odd note of gentleness. "She's scared," he observed, though how he could read your emotions so clearly was unnerving.
"Of course she's scared," Romance added, his flirtatious mask slipping to reveal something more genuine underneath. "She's been hiding what she is for so long, she's forgotten that she doesn't have to be alone."
Abby's expression grew thoughtful as he studied you. "You've been fighting against your nature, haven't you? Trying to be something you're not."
Their words hit too close to home, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You'd spent so long building walls, creating distance between yourself and your demonic heritage, that you'd almost convinced yourself you could escape it entirely.
Rumi turned to look at you, her eyes searching your face. "What are they talking about?" she asked gently, and the concern in her voice nearly broke your carefully constructed composure.
The moment stretched like a taut wire, filled with the weight of secrets and the promise of revelations that would change everything. Around you, the backstage chaos continued—technicians adjusting equipment, backup dancers stretching, the normal pre-show bustle that seemed surreal against the supernatural tension crackling in your little corner of the room.
You looked at each face in turn—the Saja Boys with their knowing expressions and hidden depths, HUNTR/X with their fierce protectiveness and growing confusion. These were the people who'd shaped your world, pulled between the family you'd chosen and the nature you'd been born with.
Finally, you took a shaky breath and made a decision that would alter the course of everything. "There's something I need to tell you all," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Something about who I really am."
The words hung in the air like a challenge to fate itself, and you could feel the weight of destiny settling around your shoulders like a mantle you'd never wanted to wear.
Chapter 2: Revelations
The private dressing room felt impossibly small with all eight of you crammed inside. Rumi had insisted that if there were going to be revelations, HUNTR/X deserved to hear them too. The door was locked, a "Do Not Disturb" sign hastily hung outside, and you found yourself sitting in the center of two opposing forces—the demon hunters you'd come to love and the demons who somehow felt like missing pieces of yourself.
Your hands trembled as you tried to find the words. How do you tell people who've dedicated their lives to fighting demons that you're the daughter of their greatest enemy? How do you explain that every moment of their trust had been built on your deception?
"I..." you started, then stopped, your throat closing around the words.
Jinu leaned forward slightly, his expression gentle despite the supernatural tension radiating from him. "It's okay," he said softly. "We already know what you are. The question is whether you're ready to accept it."
Rumi's eyes widened. "What she is? What does that mean?"
Mystery's silver-violet hair shifted as he tilted his head toward you. "She's one of us," he said simply. "Demon-born, but choosing to live among humans."
The silence that followed was deafening. You watched as understanding dawned on HUNTR/X's faces—first confusion, then shock, then something that looked suspiciously like betrayal.
"No," Zoey whispered, shaking her head. "That's not... she can't be. We would have known. We would have sensed it."
Mira's analytical mind was clearly racing. "The signs were there," she said slowly, as if pieces of a puzzle were clicking into place. "The way you always knew when demons were near before we did. How you never got tired during our late-night hunts. The fact that our demon-detecting equipment never worked properly around you."
You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller with each observation. "I tried to suppress it," you said quietly. "I've been taking herbs, wearing charms, doing everything I could to hide what I am because I knew... I knew you'd hate me if you found out."
"Hate you?" Rumi's voice cracked with emotion. "We could never hate you. You're family."
But even as she said it, you could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she'd unconsciously shifted slightly away from you. The same protective instincts that made her such a fierce demon hunter were now triggered by your presence.
Baby spoke up, his voice carrying that strange wisdom that seemed at odds with his youthful appearance. "Family isn't about blood or species," he said, looking directly at Rumi. "It's about choice. And she chose you, every day, even when it meant denying her own nature."
Romance nodded, his usual flirtatious demeanor replaced by something more sincere. "Do you know how hard it is to suppress demon heritage? The constant pain, the feeling like you're slowly suffocating? She put herself through that to protect you."
Abby was studying you with new eyes, his confident facade softened by something that looked like admiration. "That takes strength," he observed. "More strength than most demons possess."
Their defense of you was unexpected and overwhelming. You'd prepared for rejection, for fear, for anger—but not for understanding, especially not from other demons.
"There's more," you whispered, knowing that if you were going to come clean, it had to be completely. "It's not just that I'm a demon. It's... it's who my father is."
Jinu went very still. "Your father?"
The words felt like broken glass in your throat. "Gwi-Ma. The demon king. He's... he's my father."
The reaction was immediate and explosive. Zoey leaped to her feet, her hand going to her weapon. Mira stumbled backward, her face pale with shock. Even Rumi, who'd been trying so hard to be understanding, looked stricken.
But the Saja Boys' reaction was different. Mystery's head snapped up, his hidden eyes somehow boring into you with new intensity. Baby made a small sound of surprise, while Romance's flirtatious mask finally cracked completely, revealing something vulnerable underneath.
Abby was the first to speak, his voice rough with emotion. "Gwi-Ma's daughter. That means you're..."
"Our princess," Jinu finished, his voice filled with a complex mix of reverence and pain. "All this time, we've been searching for a way to break free from his control, and you were right here."
You stared at them in confusion. "I don't understand."
Mystery leaned forward, his voice urgent. "Gwi-Ma's children have power over his other servants. Not complete control, but... influence. The ability to weaken his hold on us."
"That's why we felt drawn to you," Romance added, his pink hair falling across his face as he looked down at his hands. "Why being near you felt like... like breathing fresh air for the first time in centuries."
Baby's youthful features were serious as he explained, "We've been trapped in his service, our souls slowly being consumed until we're nothing but shells. But your presence... it gives us back pieces of ourselves."
The implications hit you like a physical blow. Not only were you Gwi-Ma's daughter, but you apparently had some kind of power over his servants—power you'd never known about, never tried to use.
"I didn't know," you said frantically, looking between the Saja Boys and HUNTR/X. "I swear I didn't know about any of this. I just wanted to live a normal life, to help fight against him, not... not be connected to him."
Rumi was struggling visibly with this revelation. You could see her trying to reconcile the person she'd known with this new information, her instincts as a demon hunter warring with her feelings for you.
"Why didn't you tell us?" she asked finally, and the hurt in her voice was unmistakable.
"Because I was terrified," you admitted, tears finally spilling over. "Because I knew that once you found out what I am, whose daughter I am, everything would change. And I was right, wasn't I?"
The silence stretched uncomfortably until Mira spoke up, her voice careful and measured. "You said you've been fighting against him. Does that mean... are you on our side? Really?"
Before you could answer, the building shook with a sound like thunder, and through the small window of the dressing room, you could see the sky beginning to crack with unnatural purple light. The Honmoon was weakening, just as Baby had predicted.
Jinu was on his feet immediately, his expression grim. "He knows. Somehow, Gwi-Ma knows you're here, and he's making his move."
"The concert," you realized with growing horror. "All those people out there... he's going to use them."
Mystery nodded, his silver-violet hair shifting as he turned toward the window. "The plan was always to gather as many souls as possible in one place. But with you here, with your power..."
"He'll be even stronger," Romance finished, his usual charm replaced by genuine fear.
Abby moved to stand beside you, his presence solid and reassuring despite everything. "That's why we need to work together. All of us."
You looked around the room at the faces staring back at you—some confused, some hurt, some determined. These were the people who'd become your world, pulled between the family you'd chosen and the power you'd inherited.
"I don't know how to use whatever power I supposedly have," you said honestly. "I don't even know if I want to."
"You won't have to figure it out alone," Jinu said firmly. "We'll teach you, help you understand what you're capable of."
Zoey finally spoke up, her voice small but steady. "Are you still... are you still our friend? Despite everything?"
The question broke your heart. "You're the most important people in my life," you said fiercely. "That hasn't changed just because you know the truth about what I am."
Rumi was quiet for a long moment, then stood and crossed to where you sat. Without a word, she pulled you into a tight hug. "Family doesn't give up on family," she whispered into your hair. "We'll figure this out together."
One by one, Mira and Zoey joined the embrace, and you felt some of the fear and isolation that had been eating at you for months finally begin to ease. Then, to your surprise, you felt other arms joining the group hug—Romance's gentle touch, Baby's small but warm presence, Abby's strong embrace, and even Mystery's careful inclusion.
Only Jinu stood apart, watching with an expression of longing and sadness that made your chest ache.
"Jinu?" you called softly.
He shook his head slightly. "I don't deserve... after everything I've done, all the souls I've helped steal..."
"None of us chose this," you said firmly, pulling away from the group hug to look at him directly. "We're all just trying to survive, trying to find something worth fighting for."
The building shook again, more violently this time, and you could hear screams from the crowd outside. Through the window, the purple cracks in the sky were spreading like a web, and you could feel your father's presence pressing against the weakening barriers with growing intensity.
"Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it now," Mira said urgently.
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of destiny settling around you like armor. "Then let's go save some souls."
Chapter 3: Awakening Power
The concert venue had transformed into something out of a nightmare. Purple energy crackled through the air as the Honmoon continued to fracture above, and you could feel Gwi-Ma's influence seeping through the cracks like poison. The crowd of thousands seemed caught in a trance, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light as they swayed to a rhythm that had nothing to do with music.
Standing at the edge of the backstage area, you watched in horror as people—fans who'd come here excited to see their favorite groups perform—slowly shuffled toward the stage with vacant expressions. Among them, you spotted Bobby, one of HUNTR/X's closest friends, his usually bright demeanor replaced by the same empty stare.
"We have to get them out of here," Zoey said urgently, but even as she spoke, you could see the futility of it. There were too many people, and they were all under Gwi-Ma's thrall.
"Running won't work now," Jinu said grimly. "He's too strong, and the Honmoon is failing. The only way to save them is to cut off the source of his power."
You felt all eyes turn to you, and the weight of expectation was almost crushing. "I still don't know how to access whatever power I'm supposed to have," you protested. "What if I make things worse?"
Romance stepped closer, his pink hair catching the unnatural light from above. "You won't," he said with surprising confidence. "You've been suppressing your demon heritage for years, but that doesn't mean it's gone. It's just... sleeping."
Baby nodded, his youthful features serious. "We can help you wake it up. All of us together."
"But what if..." you started, then stopped as a familiar voice echoed through the venue with enough power to shake the building's foundations.
"My daughter." Gwi-Ma's voice was everywhere and nowhere, seeming to come from the very air itself. "I can feel you there, hiding among those pathetic mortals. Did you really think you could escape what you are forever?"
The crowd's swaying intensified, and you could see wisps of light—souls—beginning to rise from some of the people nearest to the stage. The sight made your stomach turn with revulsion and rage.
"Stop it!" you shouted into the air, your voice carrying more power than you'd ever managed before. "Leave them alone!"
Gwi-Ma's laughter was like the sound of breaking glass. "Such fire! Such power! You are truly my daughter. Come to me, child. Take your place at my side, and I'll spare your little friends."
"Never," you said fiercely, and you felt something stir deep within you—something that had been dormant for years, now awakening in response to your anger and determination.
Mystery moved to stand on your left side, his presence somehow steadying. "Focus on us," he said quietly. "Feel the connection between us."
Abby took position on your right, his muscular frame radiating protective energy. "You're not alone in this."
Romance and Baby flanked them, creating a semicircle around you with Jinu directly in front. Behind you, Rumi, Mira, and Zoey formed their own protective barrier, and you could feel their determination even through their fear.
"I can feel it," you whispered, amazement creeping into your voice. "There's something... connecting all of us."
Jinu nodded, his eyes intense as he focused on you. "Demon bonds run deeper than blood or magic. We're connected by choice, by shared purpose."
"The connection works both ways," Baby added. "You can feel our energy, our strength. But we can also draw from yours."
As if to demonstrate, you felt a strange tugging sensation, like invisible threads connecting you to each of the Saja Boys. Through those threads, you could sense their emotions—Jinu's guilt and desperate hope, Mystery's quiet strength, Abby's fierce protectiveness, Romance's genuine care, and Baby's ancient wisdom wrapped in youthful determination.
"This is impossible," Mira breathed from behind you. "The readings I'm getting... the energy levels are off the charts."
"It's not impossible," Rumi said softly, and when you turned to look at her, there was wonder in her eyes instead of fear. "It's beautiful."
The building shook again, and through the venue's speakers, you could hear the opening notes of "Your Idol"—the song the Saja Boys had planned to use to harvest souls. But now, without the boys on stage, the music sounded hollow and mechanical.
"He's trying to complete the ritual without us," Romance realized with growing alarm. "Using the recording and the crowd's existing connection to our music."
"Can he do that?" Zoey asked.
Jinu's expression was grim. "If he's grown strong enough, yes. The emotional connection the fans have to our music, their willingness to give us their hearts... he can twist that into something darker."
You could see more souls beginning to rise from the crowd, beautiful wisps of light that made your heart ache to watch them being consumed. Your father's hunger was insatiable, his greed for power overwhelming everything else.
"I won't let him do this," you said, and this time your voice carried undeniable authority. The power within you was fully awake now, responding to your will and your rage. "Show me how to stop him."
The Saja Boys exchanged glances, then Jinu stepped forward. "It's going to require everything we have," he warned. "And once we start, there's no going back. Gwi-Ma will know exactly what you're capable of."
"Good," you said fiercely. "Let him know. Let him understand that his daughter chooses love over power, connection over control."
What happened next felt like the most natural thing in the world, even though you'd never experienced anything like it before. Power flowed through the bonds connecting you to the Saja Boys, and theirs flowed back to you, creating a circuit of energy that made the air around you shimmer with possibility.
Through Jinu, you felt centuries of guilt and self-loathing transform into determination. Through Mystery, quiet observation became fierce protection. Through Abby, physical strength merged with emotional vulnerability. Through Romance, the desire to be loved evolved into the commitment to love others. Through Baby, ancient wisdom tempered youthful hope into something unbreakable.
But it wasn't just the demons you were connected to. Behind you, you could feel HUNTR/X's energy joining the circuit—Rumi's fierce loyalty, Mira's analytical brilliance, Zoey's unshakeable courage. They were choosing to trust you, to fight alongside you despite everything they'd just learned.
"Together," you said, and your voice carried the power of all of them combined.
The group moved as one toward the stage, and as you walked, you could feel your appearance changing. Your eyes began to glow with soft light, not the harsh yellow of most demons but something warmer, more welcoming. Power crackled along your skin in patterns that looked almost like circuit boards, connecting you visibly to the others.
When you reached the stage and stepped into the spotlight, the crowd's empty swaying faltered. Some of them blinked in confusion, as if waking from a dream.
Gwi-Ma's voice boomed with rage. "What are you doing? Those souls are mine!"
"They're not yours," you said, your voice carrying across the venue without need for amplification. "They never were. Souls can't be taken—only given. And these people never consented to give theirs to you."
You raised your hands, and the bonds connecting you to the others became visible as streams of light. The sight was breathtaking—eight different colors of energy weaving together into something beautiful and strong.
"You think your little friends can help you stand against me?" Gwi-Ma snarled. "I am the demon king! I have consumed thousands of souls!"
"And that's exactly why you'll lose," you said with growing confidence. "You consume, but we connect. You take, but we give. You rule through fear, but we choose to fight through love."
The power flowing through you and the others was unlike anything you'd ever imagined. It wasn't the harsh, consuming energy of traditional demon magic, but something warmer, more sustainable. It felt like the musical harmony you'd heard in HUNTR/X's songs, like the easy camaraderie you'd found with the group, like the fierce protectiveness the Saja Boys showed for each other despite their circumstances.
"This is impossible," Gwi-Ma's voice was losing some of its confidence. "You are my daughter! My blood! You cannot stand against me!"
"You're right," you said, and for a moment, fear flickered through the bonds connecting you to the others. "I am your daughter. Which means I have all of your power." You paused, letting that sink in. "But I also have something you'll never understand."
"And what is that?" he demanded.
You looked around at the faces surrounding you—demons and hunters united in common purpose, former enemies choosing to fight together, people who'd accepted you despite your heritage and your lies. The love you felt for them, and their love for you, was so overwhelming it made your chest ache.
"I have family," you said simply.
The power that erupted from your joined hands was like nothing any of them had ever seen. It wasn't the destructive force of demon magic or even the protective barriers of hunter power, but something entirely new—a force that healed instead of harmed, that connected instead of divided, that offered redemption instead of punishment.
The streams of souls that had been rising from the crowd suddenly reversed direction, flowing back into their rightful owners. People throughout the venue blinked and shook their heads, looking around in confusion as Gwi-Ma's influence was stripped away.
"No!" Gwi-Ma's voice was filled with rage and disbelief. "I will not be defeated by sentiment! I will not lose to love!"
But even as he spoke, you could feel his power waning. The cracks in the Honmoon above began to seal themselves, and the purple energy that had been pouring through them shifted to warm gold instead.
"It's working," Rumi breathed from behind you, wonder clear in her voice.
But the effort was taking its toll. You could feel the power drain from all of you, and maintaining the connection was becoming harder with each passing moment. Through the bonds, you sensed the Saja Boys beginning to falter.
"Hold on," you urged them. "We're almost there."
"Can't..." Baby gasped, his youthful face pale with exhaustion. "Too much... power..."
One by one, you felt their connections beginning to weaken. Romance stumbled, his usual vibrant energy dimming. Mystery's silver-violet hair fell across his face as he struggled to stay upright. Abby's muscular frame trembled with the effort of maintaining the flow of power.
Even Jinu, who'd seemed the strongest of them all, was beginning to fade. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm not strong enough."
It was then that you realized the truth. Your father had been right about one thing—you did have his power, all of it. But unlike him, you didn't want to consume others to make yourself stronger. You wanted to give them strength, to lift them up instead of tearing them down.
Without hesitation, you reversed the flow of power through the bonds. Instead of drawing energy from the others, you began pouring your own strength into them—not just your demon heritage, but everything you had to give. Your love for them, your hope for the future, your determination to protect the innocent people in this venue.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. The Saja Boys straightened, their eyes glowing with renewed power. Behind you, HUNTR/X stood taller, their own abilities enhanced by your gift. The golden light streaming from your joined hands intensified until it was almost blinding.
"Impossible," Gwi-Ma whispered, and for the first time, his voice carried genuine fear. "You're giving them your power. You're making yourself weak."
"No," you said, feeling stronger than you ever had in your life despite the enormous drain on your energy. "I'm making us all strong."
The final surge of power that flowed through your group was enough to shatter Gwi-Ma's remaining influence completely. The last of the purple cracks in the Honmoon sealed themselves, and you felt your father's presence retreat back to the demon realm, his connection to the human world severed once again.
As the golden light faded, you collapsed to your knees, utterly exhausted but triumphant. Around you, the others were in similar states—drained but victorious, having accomplished something that none of them could have managed alone.
The crowd was beginning to cheer, thinking they'd just witnessed an incredible special effects show. They had no idea how close they'd come to losing their souls, or how the girl kneeling on the stage had just saved them all.
"Is it over?" Mira asked weakly.
You nodded, not trusting your voice. Through the bonds that still connected you to the Saja Boys—weaker now but still present—you could feel their exhaustion and their relief.
But more than that, you could feel something else. Something that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.
You could feel their love for you, as real and powerful as your love for them. Not just gratitude for what you'd done, but genuine affection, attraction, the desire to build something beautiful together.
And from behind you, from HUNTR/X, you felt the same thing. Acceptance, love, the determination to stand by you no matter what challenges lay ahead.
As you looked around at the eight people who'd stood with you against impossible odds, you realized that while you might have lost your father tonight, you'd gained something infinitely more precious.
You'd found your real family.
Epilogue: New Beginnings
Three months later
The apartment you'd all chosen to share was chaos on the best of days, but today felt particularly hectic. Mystery was in the kitchen attempting to cook breakfast while Baby "helped" by adding completely inappropriate ingredients—you'd already confiscated the hot sauce before he could add it to the pancake batter. Romance was draped dramatically across the couch, claiming that the morning light was too harsh for his delicate complexion, while Abby did push-ups in the living room because "the gym is too far away."
Jinu sat at the dining table with Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, all of them pouring over plans for HUNTR/X's upcoming tour. The group had decided to continue their music career, but now with a twist—they'd incorporated the Saja Boys into their performances, creating a unique co-ed group that had taken the K-pop world by storm.
The fact that the former demon idols were now openly dating one of their management team members had caused quite a stir in the media, but you'd all decided that after everything you'd been through, hiding your relationship wasn't worth the effort.
"Baby, no," you called as you watched him reach for the salt. "Pancakes do not need that much seasoning."
"But it would be interesting," he protested, his youthful features pulling into an exaggerated pout that would have been adorable if you didn't know how dangerous he could be when he wanted something.
"Interesting isn't always good," Mystery observed dryly from where he was flipping pancakes with surprising skill. "Some of us would like to eat breakfast without our taste buds staging a revolt."
Romance lifted his head from the couch cushions to add, "My delicate palate couldn't handle Baby's version of 'interesting' this early in the morning."
"Your palate isn't delicate," Abby called out between push-ups. "You ate gas station sushi last week and declared it 'an adventure in flavor.'"
"That was different," Romance protested. "That was for love. Y/N mentioned she was curious about it."
You felt heat rise in your cheeks as all eyes turned to you. Even three months into this relationship, you sometimes couldn't believe that these incredible people—demons and hunters alike—had chosen to build a life with you.
The adjustment period hadn't been easy. Learning to balance eight different personalities, schedules, and needs was like conducting an orchestra where every instrument wanted to play a different song. There were arguments about whose turn it was to do laundry (Romance was convinced that his "artistic temperament" exempted him from household chores), debates about what to watch on TV (Mystery's taste for obscure documentaries clashed with Baby's love of animated movies), and the occasional bout of jealousy when someone felt left out of group activities.
But there were also mornings like this one, filled with laughter and gentle teasing and the comfortable chaos of people who'd chosen to make a life together. There were quiet evenings when you'd all pile onto the oversized sectional sofa, limbs tangled together as you watched movies or just talked. There were passionate nights when the bonds between you all seemed to strengthen, connecting you in ways that went beyond the physical.
The demon hunters had adapted to living with reformed demons better than you'd dared to hope. Rumi had thrown herself into learning about demon culture and history, determined to understand her new family members completely. Mira had become fascinated by the magical bonds that connected you all, taking readings and measurements that she claimed were "for science" but that you suspected were just her way of proving to herself that this impossible relationship was real. Zoey had appointed herself the group's official mood manager, always ready with games or activities when tensions ran high.
The Saja Boys, meanwhile, had embraced their freedom from Gwi-Ma's control with varying degrees of success. Jinu had thrown himself into the music, writing songs that dealt with redemption and second chances. His relationship with you was the most complex—built on shared understanding of what it meant to carry shame about your heritage, but also the deepest in many ways.
"Breakfast is ready," Mystery announced, and the mad scramble that followed was typical of your household. Eight people trying to get food from the kitchen to the dining table resulted in Romance dramatically declaring that he was "fading away from hunger," Baby somehow ending up with twice as many pancakes as everyone else, and Abby gallantly carrying plates for those who couldn't manage to grab their own in the chaos.
As you settled around the table—a custom piece designed to accommodate your unusual family size—you marveled again at how natural this all felt. Six months ago, you'd been hiding your heritage and living in constant fear of discovery. Now you were surrounded by people who knew exactly what you were and loved you not despite it, but because of it.
"So," Mira said as she cut into her pancakes, "the tour schedule came in this morning. Looks like we'll be hitting twelve cities over the next two months."
"Twelve cities means twelve opportunities for demon activity," Rumi added thoughtfully. "We should probably do reconnaissance on each location before we arrive."
Zoey nodded enthusiastically. "I can start researching local folklore, see if there are any patterns or hotspots we should be aware of."
You smiled as you listened to them plan. HUNTR/X had initially been worried that their demon-hunting duties would conflict with their relationship with the former Saja Boys, but it had actually worked out perfectly. The boys' knowledge of demon culture and abilities made them invaluable allies, and your power as Gwi-Ma's daughter gave the group capabilities they'd never had before.
"What about the new songs?" Jinu asked, pulling out a notebook filled with his careful handwriting. "I've got three more tracks ready for review, but I want to make sure they fit with the group's overall sound."
"I still think we need more harmonies in the bridge of 'Phoenix Rising,'" Romance added, his flirtatious persona giving way to the serious musician underneath. "Something that showcases everyone's range."
"Agreed," Mystery said quietly. "And maybe a key change in the final chorus. Make it more dramatic."
Baby bounced in his chair with excitement. "Can I have a rap section? Please? I've been working on something about transformation and growing up."
Abby grinned at the youngest member's enthusiasm. "Only if you promise not to include any references to your 'spice tolerance experiments.'"
The laughter that followed was warm and genuine, and you felt that familiar tightening in your chest that came whenever you were reminded of how much you loved these people. All of them, in different ways, for different reasons.
After breakfast, the group scattered to their various activities. Rumi and Jinu disappeared into the makeshift studio they'd set up in one of the spare bedrooms. Mira and Mystery settled in the living room with laptops and research materials—their shared love of information gathering had made them natural research partners. Zoey declared her intention to reorganize the group's costume collection, and Romance immediately volunteered to help, though you suspected his motives had more to do with fashion than organization.
That left you with Abby and Baby, who were engaged in what had become their morning ritual—a workout session that was part training, part bonding time, and part attempt to burn off Baby's seemingly infinite energy.
"Want to join us?" Abby asked, pausing in his stretching routine to give you a hopeful look.
You considered it. The bonds between you and the others had grown stronger over the past three months, but they required maintenance. Physical contact helped, as did shared activities and emotional connection. Plus, you'd been neglecting your own fitness in favor of managing everyone else's schedules.
"Sure," you said, moving to join them on the yoga mats they'd spread across the floor. "But go easy on me. I'm not as indestructible as you two."
Baby grinned, his turquoise eyes sparkling with mischief. "We'll start with something simple. Basic stretches, maybe some light cardio."
Twenty minutes later, you were questioning every life choice that had led to this moment. "Light cardio" in Baby's vocabulary apparently meant "high-intensity interval training designed for beings with supernatural stamina." You were drenched in sweat and breathing hard while both demons looked like they were just getting warmed up.
"Okay, break time," you gasped, collapsing onto one of the mats.
Abby immediately moved to sit beside you, his presence solid and comforting. "Sorry. We forget sometimes that humans have different limits."
"It's okay," you panted. "I need to build up my endurance anyway. Especially if we're going to be touring."
Baby flopped down on your other side, his youthful energy finally showing signs of flagging. "Are you nervous? About the tour, I mean."
The question was more serious than his usual playful demeanor suggested, and you considered it carefully. "A little," you admitted. "It's going to be our first time performing together in public, really performing as a group. And there's always the chance that other demons will try to target us."
"Let them try," Abby said fiercely, his protective instincts flaring. "Anyone who wants to hurt you will have to go through all of us first."
"That's sweet," you said, leaning against his shoulder, "but I'm more worried about all of you getting hurt because of me. I'm still Gwi-Ma's daughter, even if I'm not on his side. There are going to be demons who see me as either a prize to be claimed or a traitor to be punished."
Baby shifted closer, his small hand finding yours. "Then we'll face them together. That's what families do, right?"
The simple certainty in his voice made your throat tight with emotion. These demons, who'd spent centuries having their souls slowly consumed by your father, who'd been turned into mindless servants and used for his twisted purposes, had not only broken free but chosen to protect you from the consequences of being his daughter.
"I love you," you said impulsively, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "Both of you. All of you. I know it's complicated and weird and probably not sustainable long-term, but I can't help it."
Abby's arm came around you, pulling you closer against his side. "Why wouldn't it be sustainable?"
"Because..." you gestured helplessly. "Eight people? In one relationship? That's not normal. People are going to judge us, question whether it's real or healthy or—"
"Hey." Baby's voice was unusually serious, cutting through your spiral of anxiety. "Look at me."
You turned to meet his turquoise eyes, seeing wisdom there that seemed impossible in such a youthful face.
"Normal is overrated," he said firmly. "Normal is what got us all trapped in situations we hated, pretending to be things we weren't, serving people who didn't care about us. This—" he gestured to encompass the apartment, the sounds of the others going about their daily routines, the bonds that connected you all "—this is extraordinary. And extraordinary things don't follow normal rules."
Abby nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly. "We tried normal for centuries. It nearly destroyed us. I'll take complicated and weird and wonderful over normal any day."
Their words settled something anxious in your chest, and you felt the familiar warmth of the bonds connecting you to them grow stronger. Through those connections, you could sense the others throughout the apartment—Jinu's focused creativity as he worked on music, Mystery's quiet contentment as he researched, Romance's dramatic flair as he reorganized costumes, Rumi's determined leadership as she planned logistics, Mira's excited curiosity as she analyzed data, Zoey's cheerful energy as she tackled organizational tasks.
They were all so different, with their own needs and quirks and complications. But somehow, together, you'd built something that worked. Something that made all of you stronger, happier, more complete than you'd been alone.
"I love you too," Abby said quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest where you were leaning against him. "More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone."
"Same here," Baby added, his usual playfulness replaced by sincere emotion. "You gave us back our souls. Our choices. Our chance at happiness. How could we not love you?"
The afternoon passed in lazy contentment, with various members of your unusual family drifting in and out of the living room. Romance appeared at one point to model outfit options for the upcoming tour, posing dramatically and soliciting opinions on color coordination. Mystery emerged from his research to share an interesting fact about demon hierarchies in ancient Korea. Zoey bounced in to show off her organization system for the group's ever-expanding collection of stage accessories.
Jinu and Rumi stayed locked in the studio for most of the day, but you could feel their contentment through the bonds, the satisfaction that came from creative collaboration and shared purpose.
As evening approached, you found yourself in the kitchen with Mira, helping her prepare dinner for eight people—a logistical challenge that required careful planning and multiple courses to accommodate everyone's preferences.
"So," Mira said as she chopped vegetables with scientific precision, "I've been analyzing the energy readings from our bond network."
You nearly dropped the pot you were filling with water. "Please tell me that's not as invasive as it sounds."
She laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Nothing invasive, I promise. Just external monitoring of the energy patterns when we're all together. And the results are fascinating."
Despite your initial concern, you found yourself genuinely curious. "What kind of results?"
"The bonds are getting stronger," she said, her excitement evident in her voice. "Not just deeper, but more complex. When we first connected during the fight with Gwi-Ma, it was like... like a simple electrical circuit. Power flowing in basic patterns."
She paused in her chopping to pull out her tablet, showing you a series of colorful graphs and charts that meant nothing to you but clearly thrilled her.
"But now look at this," she continued, swiping to a more recent reading. "The patterns are intricate, almost like neural networks. Each connection between individuals is unique, but they're all part of a larger system that's constantly adapting and growing."
You studied the incomprehensible data, trying to make sense of what she was telling you. "Is that... good?"
"It's incredible," she said emphatically. "What we have, this bond network between all of us, it's not just unprecedented—it's evolutionarily significant. We're developing new forms of connection, new ways of sharing strength and support."
The implications of what she was saying began to sink in. "So this really could work long-term? All of us together?"
"Not only could it work," Mira said, her analytical mind clearly racing with possibilities, "but I think it's actively making us all stronger. More resilient. The emotional support network, the shared abilities, the way we can draw on each other's strengths—it's like we're becoming something new."
Before you could respond, arms slipped around your waist from behind, and you felt Jinu's familiar presence. "Something new sounds perfect to me," he murmured against your ear. "I've had enough of being something old and broken."
You leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm glow of contentment through your bond with him. "How did the recording session go?"
"Better than expected," Rumi's voice came from the kitchen doorway as she entered, looking tired but satisfied. "We've got three new songs ready for the tour, and Jinu's arrangement for the group number is brilliant."
"It's not just my arrangement," Jinu protested, though you could feel his pleasure at the compliment. "Everyone contributed. That's what makes it work."
The kitchen gradually filled with the rest of your family as the smell of dinner drew them from their various activities. Romance appeared to dramatically declare his starvation, Mystery emerged to help with the cooking, Baby Saja bounced in to "supervise" the process, Abby arrived to help carry dishes, and Zoey brought her infectious energy to turn dinner preparation into an impromptu dance party.
As you looked around at the organized chaos of eight people trying to get dinner on the table, you felt that familiar surge of overwhelming love and gratitude. Six months ago, you'd been alone, hiding your true nature and living in constant fear. Now you were surrounded by people who knew every aspect of who you were and loved you completely.
"Hey," Romance said suddenly, his voice cutting through the cheerful noise of dinner preparation. "I just realized something."
Everyone turned to look at him, and he grinned with his characteristic charm. "In all the chaos of figuring out tour schedules and new songs and living arrangements, we never actually talked about what we're calling ourselves. As a group, I mean."
The question sparked immediate debate. HUNTR/X wanted to maintain their established brand, but including the Saja Boys complicated things. The boys themselves had mixed feelings about keeping their demon-created name, even if it held new meaning now.
"What about something entirely new?" you suggested as you all settled around the dinner table. "Something that represents who we are now, not who we used to be."
"Like what?" Zoey asked, genuinely curious.
You thought about it, considering everything you'd learned about your unusual family over the past few months. "Something about connection, maybe? Or unity?"
"Harmony," Mystery said quietly, his silver-violet hair catching the kitchen light. "We make harmony together. Different voices, different strengths, but all part of the same song."
"I like that," Rumi said thoughtfully. "Harmony implies music, but also balance. Working together despite differences."
Baby bounced in his chair with excitement. "Harmony sounds perfect! It's what we do on stage, but also what we do in life."
The name stuck, feeling right in a way that settled something you hadn't realized was unsettled. You were no longer HUNTR/X and the Saja Boys, no longer demon hunters and reformed demons, no longer separate entities trying to coexist. You were Harmony—nine voices that had learned to sing together, nine hearts that had chosen to beat in rhythm, nine souls that had found their perfect complement in each other.
As dinner wound down and the evening settled into the comfortable routine of shared cleanup and preparations for the next day, you found yourself standing on the apartment's balcony, looking out over the city lights. Seoul sparkled below you, millions of people going about their lives, unaware that somewhere above them, a demon princess and her impossible family were planning to change the world through music and love.
You felt rather than heard Jinu join you on the balcony, his presence warm and familiar. "No regrets?" he asked softly.
You considered the question seriously. Six months ago, your life had been simpler but lonelier. You'd had security but no real connection, safety but no purpose beyond survival. Now your life was complicated beyond belief, full of challenges you'd never anticipated and responsibilities you'd never wanted.
But you were also happier than you'd ever imagined possible.
"None," you said firmly, turning to meet his eyes. "Not a single one."
He smiled, and the expression transformed his entire face, chasing away the shadows of guilt and self-doubt that had haunted him for centuries. "Good," he said simply. "Because I love you, and I love this crazy family we've built, and I can't imagine wanting anything else."
Before you could respond, the balcony door slid open and the rest of your family spilled out, drawn by some invisible signal that all of you were needed for this moment. Romance draped himself dramatically over the balcony railing, Mystery found a quiet spot to observe, Baby perched on one of the chairs, Abby leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, and the HUNTR/X girls arranged themselves in a loose circle.
"Are we having a moment?" Zoey asked with a grin. "Because I love moments."
"We're having a moment," you confirmed, feeling the bonds that connected all of you pulse with warmth and affection. "A moment of gratitude, I think. For second chances and impossible families and the fact that love really can conquer everything if you let it."
"Even demon kings and ancient curses and the expectations of an entire industry," Romance added with his characteristic flair.
"Even normal people who think nine-person relationships are weird," Baby chimed in, his grin mischievous.
"Even our own doubts and fears and the voices that tell us we don't deserve happiness," Mystery said quietly.
One by one, they each added their own thoughts, their own gratitude's, their own acknowledgments of how far you'd all come and how much you'd grown. And as the night settled around you, Seoul twinkling below and the stars beginning to appear above, you realized that this was exactly where you belonged—surrounded by the people who'd seen you at your worst and chosen to love you anyway, who'd accepted your heritage and your power and your complicated family dynamics without question, who'd made you part of something bigger and more beautiful than anything you could have imagined alone.
You were Gwi-Ma's daughter, but you were also so much more. You were a demon hunter's ally, a music producer's partner, a found family's heart. You were complicated and powerful and weird and wonderful, and you were exactly who you were meant to be.
And tomorrow, you'd wake up in a bed surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, and you'd start another day of building something unprecedented and extraordinary together.
But tonight, you stood on a balcony overlooking a city full of possibilities, your hand intertwined with Jinu's while the others created a circle of warmth and connection around you, and you knew with absolute certainty that this was the beginning of the best part of your life.
After all, harmony wasn't just about voices singing together in perfect synchronization. It was about different notes finding ways to complement each other, creating something more beautiful than any single melody could achieve alone.
Hi!! I just wanted to say your writing is absolutely magical 🫶💗 I’m in love with how you write the Saja boys — they live rent free in my mind 😭✨
If you’re taking requests, could I please ask for a poly!Saja boys x f!reader where she’s a shy little deer/doe hybrid? 🦌💖
I think it’d be so interesting to see how the boys would act all possessive and protective over her 🥹🫣 I’d be so grateful if you ever write this, thank you for sharing your amazing work with us!! 🫶💞
Such a cute request, here you go dear!! (3
The neon-lit streets of Seoul hum with energy, a vibrant pulse that syncs with the heartbeat of the city’s scene. You weave through the crowded sidewalks, your delicate doe ears twitching beneath the hood of your oversized sweater, catching snippets of conversations and the distant thrum of music from nearby shops. As a deer hybrid, you’ve always been cautious, your shy nature amplified by the instincts that make you hyper-aware of every sound, every sudden movement. Your wide, expressive eyes scan the faces around you, searching for threats, but also for the familiar figures of the five demons who’ve claimed your heart: the Saja Boys—Jinu, Abby, Mystery, Romance, and Baby. In this polyamorous bond, they are your protectors, your confidants, and your everything, their demonic nature both a shield and a storm around your gentle soul.
It’s been months since the events of the Idol Awards, where the Saja Boys, once pawns of the demon king Gwi-Ma, broke free from his control, thanks to Jinu’s sacrifice and the strength of Huntr/x’s music. Now, they navigate a new life, no longer fully demons but not quite human, their purple markings faded but still visible in moments of high emotion. You met them by chance, a fleeting encounter during one of their post-redemption fan meets, where your scent—a sweet, earthy mix that screamed prey to their lingering demonic instincts—drew them to you like moths to a flame. What began as curiosity evolved into something deeper, a connection forged in shared vulnerability and the quiet moments between their chaotic lives as idols. They’re possessive, protective, each in their own way, and you, with your timid demeanor and deer-like instincts, find comfort in their intensity, even if it sometimes overwhelms you.
Tonight, you’re meeting them after their rehearsal at a studio tucked away in Gangnam. The building looms ahead, all glass and steel, and you hesitate at the entrance, your tail giving a nervous twitch beneath your skirt. Crowds make you skittish, and the thought of navigating the bustling halls inside sends a shiver down your spine. You pull out your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you text Jinu: I’m here. Outside. Almost instantly, your screen lights up with a reply: Stay put. We’re coming. The message is simple, but you can feel the weight of his command, the leader’s instinct to keep you safe.
Within moments, the glass doors swing open, and Jinu emerges first, his tall frame cutting through the evening chill. His dark hair falls into his eyes, and there’s a faint glow to the demonic markings on his neck, a sign he’s on edge. He spots you immediately, his expression softening, though his gaze sweeps the area like a predator assessing for danger. “You okay, Y/N?” he asks, voice low and steady, as he steps close, his hand brushing your arm. You nod, cheeks warming at his touch, but before you can speak, Abby’s booming voice cuts through. “There’s our little doe!” He strides over, his muscular build practically dwarfing you, a playful grin on his face. His abs, always a point of pride, are barely concealed by his tight shirt, and he winks, knowing it flusters you. You duck your head, ears flattening slightly, and he chuckles, ruffling your hair gently. “Too cute for your own good,” he teases, but there’s a protective edge to his tone, his eyes scanning the street for any threat.
Mystery follows, his long purple hair obscuring half his face as usual, his presence quiet but intense. He doesn’t say much, but his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that contrasts his enigmatic aura. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. You squeeze his hand, reassuring him, but your heart skips at the way his grip tightens slightly, as if anchoring you to him. Romance is next, his heart-shaped bangs framing a face that’s all charm and mischief. “Y/N, darling, you look like you’re about to bolt,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. He steps closer, tilting your chin up with a finger, his eyes sparkling with affection but also a hint of possessiveness. “We can’t have our heart running off, can we?” Lastly, Baby storms out, his blue hair a vibrant splash against the night, his cherub-like face set in a scowl. “Why didn’t you come inside? It’s not safe out here!” he snaps, but his hands are gentle as they cup your face, his turquoise eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.
You stammer an apology, your shyness flaring under their collective attention. “I-I didn’t want to bother anyone… it’s crowded in there.” Your voice is soft, barely audible, but they hear it, their demonic senses attuned to every nuance of you. Jinu frowns, his leader’s instincts kicking in. “You’re never a bother,” he says firmly, his hand sliding to the small of your back, guiding you toward the studio. The others fall into step around you, forming a protective circle that feels both comforting and intense. Abby’s arm brushes yours on one side, Mystery’s hand stays in yours, Romance walks close enough that his shoulder grazes you, and Baby trails just behind, his eyes darting to every shadow. Their possessiveness is palpable, a silent claim that you’re theirs, and while it makes your heart race, it also soothes the anxious flutter of your deer instincts.
Inside the studio, the air is warm, filled with the faint hum of music and the scent of sweat and energy drinks. The Saja Boys lead you to a private lounge, away from the curious eyes of staff and trainees. You settle on a plush couch, your tail twitching nervously against the cushions. The room feels smaller with all five of them around you, their larger-than-life presences filling the space. Jinu sits beside you, his calm authority grounding you. “You should’ve texted sooner,” he says, his tone gentle but with a hint of reproach. “We don’t like you being out there alone.” His fingers trace the edge of your ear, a gesture that’s both soothing and possessive, and you lean into it, unable to help yourself.
Abby plops down on your other side, his arm draping over the back of the couch, caging you in. “Yeah, what if some creep saw you? Or worse, a demon?” His grin is playful, but his eyes are serious, the memory of their own demonic pasts making them hyper-vigilant. You blush, murmuring, “I’m fine, really,” but Abby just snorts, pulling you closer so your shoulder presses against his broad chest. “Not taking chances, little doe. You’re too precious.” His warmth is comforting, but there’s an undercurrent of intensity, a reminder of the strength he wields, the demon he once was.
Mystery sits cross-legged on the floor in front of you, his head tilted as he studies you with those piercing eyes. “Your scent… it’s stronger when you’re nervous,” he says quietly, almost like he’s thinking aloud. His aesthetic makes him seem otherworldly, but his concern is grounded, real. “It draws attention. You need to stay close.” You nod, feeling exposed under his gaze, but also safe, knowing he’s watching out for you in his own quiet way.
Romance perches on the armrest, his playful demeanor masking a deeper intensity. “You know, Y/N, you make it really hard for us to focus when you’re out there looking so… vulnerable,” he says, his voice dripping with charm. He leans in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment too long. “We’d burn the world down before we let anything happen to you.” His words send a shiver through you, both thrilling and intimidating, and you can’t meet his gaze, your cheeks burning.
Baby, ever the fiery one, paces the room, his energy crackling. “This is why I said we should’ve gotten you a bodyguard,” he grumbles, stopping to glare at you, though his expression softens when he sees your wide-eyed look. “You’re too damn soft, Y/N. Someone’s gotta keep you safe, and it’s us.” He kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so volatile. “You’re ours, got it? No one else gets to mess with you.” His possessiveness is raw, unfiltered, but it comes from a place of deep care, his past as a demon making him fiercely protective of what he loves.
The dynamic between you and the Saja Boys is a delicate balance, their demonic instincts clashing with their newfound humanity. Jinu, with his tragic past of trading his soul for fame, is the steady hand, always ensuring you’re safe but also teaching you to stand stronger. Abby, the himbo with a heart of gold, uses his strength to shield you, his playful teasing a way to ease your shyness. Mystery, the quiet weirdo, observes and protects in silence, his rare words carrying weight. Romance, the flirt, weaves affection and possessiveness into every gesture, making you feel cherished but also claimed. Baby, the snarky maknae, channels his anger into fierce loyalty, his protectiveness bordering on obsession.
A sudden noise from the hallway—a door slamming—makes you jump, your doe ears perking up, tail twitching. Instantly, the Saja Boys react. Jinu’s hand tightens on your back, his body shifting to block you from the door. Abby stands, his playful demeanor gone, replaced by a hulking readiness. Mystery’s eyes narrow, his grip on your hand firm. Romance slides closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, whispering, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Baby’s already at the door, peeking out with a scowl, ready to confront whatever’s out there. Your heart races, but their reactions, their unity, ground you. You’re their heart, their reason to fight, and they’ll never let anything touch you.
As the noise turns out to be just a clumsy staff member dropping equipment, the tension eases, but their protectiveness lingers. Jinu pulls you into a hug, his chin resting on your head. “You’re safe with us, always,” he murmurs. Abby joins in, wrapping his arms around both of you, his warmth enveloping you. Mystery and Romance exchange a look, then add their hands to the pile, a silent vow. Baby, still grumbling, sits back down, pulling your legs onto his lap. “No more wandering off alone, okay?” he says, his tone softer now.
You nod, overwhelmed but warm, your shyness melting under their collective care. As a doe hybrid, you’re naturally timid, but with the Saja Boys, you feel braver, knowing they’ll always be there—possessive, protective, and utterly devoted. The world outside may be chaotic, but here, in this circle of demons-turned-idols, you’re home.
I found you and I physically can’t stop reading your work — I’m SO hooked 😭✨ Your writing is insanely good, I’m obsessed!! 🫶
Please please please, can I beg you for a poly!Saja boys x f!reader where she’s a siren? 🧜♀️✨ (magical voice, long tail, all the enchanting goodness!) I’d love to see how they’d meet her, react when they discover the truth, and how the whole dynamic unfolds! 🥹💖
I swear I’d be forever grateful if you could write this — your stories are literally everything to me!! 🥺🙏💕
Tyyy!! Here you go love. (3
Song of the Depths | Poly! Saja Boys x Siren! Reader
The morning sun cast long shadows across the Busan coastline as you perched on the jagged rocks beneath the cliffs, your emerald tail catching the light like scattered diamonds. The song that flowed from your lips was ancient—older than the Honmoon itself—a melody your grandmother had taught you before the great storms claimed her. You had always been careful, only singing when the beaches were empty, when the fishing boats had returned, when the world above the waves seemed to slumber.
But today was different. Today, five figures stood on the cliff's edge above, their silhouettes dark against the brightening sky.
Your voice caught in your throat as you noticed them, the haunting melody dying away into the crash of waves against stone. They were too far to see clearly, but something about their presence made the water around you feel electric, charged with an energy that reminded you of the deep ocean storms. You slipped backward into the water, only your eyes and the crown of your head visible as you watched them.
From above, Jinu felt his chest tighten as the last notes of your song faded. Four hundred years of existence had taught him to recognize power when he heard it, and your voice carried something that made his demon marks tingle beneath his human disguise. "Did you all hear that?" he asked, his dark eyes scanning the waters below.
"Hear what?" Abby was already pulling off his shirt, flexing for the benefit of some early morning joggers on the beach path. "I was busy giving the people what they want." He gestured to his abs with the kind of confidence that would have been obnoxious if it weren't so effective.
Mystery tilted his head, his hair falling further across his face. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "There was... singing. Old singing." His usually shy demeanor seemed more intense, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.
"It was beautiful," Romance added, his hand over his heart in an exaggerated gesture. "Like something from a dream. Made me think of..." He paused, frowning. "I can't remember what it made me think of."
Baby Saja, despite his youthful appearance, had been around long enough to recognize the supernatural. He crossed his arms and fixed Jinu with a stare that was far too knowing for someone who looked barely eighteen. "That wasn't human music, hyung. Whatever made that sound, it's not from the surface world."
You watched them argue amongst themselves, debating whether to investigate further or continue with their morning run along the coastal path. Part of you wanted to disappear into the deeper waters, to swim far from whatever these five were. But there was something about them—the way they moved with inhuman grace, the way the leader's eyes seemed to glow when the light hit them just right—that kept you frozen in place.
"We should go," Jinu said finally, but his feet remained planted on the cliff's edge. His demon marks were practically burning now, responding to some presence in the water below. "We have rehearsal in an hour."
"Since when do you care about being on time?" Baby raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who said we should explore the city properly. Find inspiration for our next album."
It was then that a fishing boat, returning late from the night's catch, chugged past your hiding spot. The elderly captain, exhausted from hours at sea, didn't notice the rocks in time. You watched in horror as the boat lurched toward the sharp stones that would tear through its hull like paper.
Without thinking, you launched yourself forward, your powerful tail propelling you through the water faster than any human could swim. Your voice rose again, but this time it wasn't the gentle song from before—it was a command, ancient and irresistible. The water itself seemed to respond, creating a cushion between the boat and the rocks, guiding it safely away from danger.
But your rescue had cost you your concealment. As you turned to swim back to the deeper waters, the fishing net that had been dragging behind the boat caught your tail. You were trapped, floating just beneath the surface, clearly visible to anyone who cared to look down.
"Oh my God," Romance breathed, his usual dramatic flair replaced by genuine shock. "Is that...?"
"A mermaid," Mystery whispered, leaning so far over the cliff's edge that Abby had to grab his arm to keep him from falling. "A real mermaid."
Jinu's eyes widened, but not with the same wonder as his group mates. He recognized what you were immediately—he'd heard stories whispered in the depths of Gwi-Ma's domain about the sirens, the sea-dwellers whose songs could calm the wildest storms or drive sailors to madness. Ancient beings who predated even the first demon hunters, whose magic flowed from the ocean itself rather than from human emotion.
"We have to help her," he said, already calculating the distance to the water's edge. "She's trapped."
"Help her?" Baby Saja looked skeptical. "Hyung, sirens aren't exactly known for being friendly to surface dwellers. They're the reason half the old coastal villages have songs about staying away from the water."
"She just saved that fisherman," Jinu pointed out, already moving toward the narrow path that led down to the shoreline. "If she wanted to hurt humans, she would have let him crash."
The others followed, though their motivations varied. Romance was clearly enchanted by the romantic possibilities of a real-life mermaid encounter. Mystery seemed driven by curiosity about a being even more mysterious than himself. Abby was probably wondering if sirens appreciated good abs. And Baby, despite his skepticism, was too loyal to let Jinu face potential danger alone.
You struggled against the net, your powerful tail thrashing in frustration. The more you fought, the tighter it seemed to get, and panic was beginning to set in. You'd heard the stories too—about what happened to sea-dwellers who were caught by land folk. Some were kept as curiosities, others were studied until they died, and the lucky ones were simply killed quickly.
"Easy," a voice called out from above. You looked up to see the leader of the group wading into the water, his designer clothes apparently of no concern to him. "We're not going to hurt you."
Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was something ancient in his gaze, something that recognized the old magic in your blood. But there was also pain there, a deep sadness that called to something in your own heart.
"You're like me," you said, and your voice above water was just as enchanting as it had been in song. "Not entirely human."
Jinu's hands stilled on the net. "How did you—"
"Your eyes," you explained, as the others waded into the shallows behind him. "They change color when you're surprised. And there's something else... you smell like regret and ancient magic."
Baby snorted. "She can smell your emotional baggage, hyung. That's embarrassing."
"Shut up," Jinu muttered, his cheeks flushing as he worked to untangle you from the net. His fingers brushed against your tail, and you both gasped at the contact. The touch sent sparks through the water, your magic recognizing his power even in its diminished, corrupted form.
Romance, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement. "This is like something out of a fairy tale! A beautiful mermaid, a daring rescue—do you have a father who's going to forbid us from seeing you? Because I'm very good at the star-crossed lovers thing."
"I don't have a father," you said quietly, still watching Jinu work. "And I'm not a mermaid. I'm a siren."
Mystery's visible eye widened. "The difference being?"
"Mermaids are born of the sea and magic," you explained as Jinu finally freed your tail from the net. "Sirens are born of the sea and sorrow. We sing to heal the ocean's pain, to guide lost souls home. We're..." You hesitated, then decided honesty was the best policy. "We're much more dangerous than mermaids."
"Dangerous how?" Abby asked, genuinely curious. He'd stopped flexing and was actually listening intently.
You smiled, and it wasn't entirely reassuring. "Our songs can make you forget your name, your purpose, your life. They can make you walk into the waves willingly, happily, believing you're going home. They can stop your heart or heal mortal wounds. The old sailors weren't wrong to fear us."
"But you saved that fisherman," Jinu pointed out, his hand still resting on your arm. "You could have let him die."
"The ocean doesn't hunger for the blood of innocent men," you said simply. "Only for those who abuse her gifts or threaten her children."
Baby, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly spoke up. "You said we were like you. What did you mean?"
You turned your attention to the youngest member of their group, seeing past his cherubic features to the calculating intelligence beneath. "You're not human either. None of you are." Your voice carried the authority of deep waters and ancient knowledge. "There's demon magic clinging to all of you like oil on water. Old magic, bound to something far beneath the surface world."
The five of them exchanged looks, their carefully maintained human facades beginning to slip. Jinu's eyes flickered from brown to gold. Mystery's hair shifted in a wind that wasn't there. Romance's perfect smile showed teeth that were slightly too sharp. Abby's muscles seemed to ripple with inhuman strength. And Baby's childish pout transformed into something far more calculating.
"So much for keeping our identities secret," Baby said dryly. "What gave us away? The supernatural good looks or the fact that we're not screaming and running away from a siren?"
"Both," you admitted, pulling yourself to sit on a partially submerged rock. Your tail curled around the stone, the scales shifting from green to deep blue in the changing light. "Also, you're standing in salt water wearing expensive clothes and none of you seem cold. Ordinary humans would be shivering by now."
Jinu laughed, and the sound was warmer than you expected. "You're very observant for someone who just got rescued."
"You're very kind for someone who serves the demon king," you replied, and watched all five of them freeze.
The silence stretched between you like a held breath. Finally, Jinu sighed and sat down on the rocks beside you, no longer bothering to hide the way his eyes glowed. "How much do you know?"
"I know that five demons have been walking the surface world, building a following among humans. I know you call yourselves the Saja Boys, and that you're planning something involving the International Idol Awards. I know that three human girls calling themselves HUNTR/X have been fighting your kind for years, and that there's a barrier called the Honmoon keeping your master trapped below."
Romance whistled appreciatively. "She's well-informed for someone living underwater."
"The sea remembers everything," you said simply. "Every song that's sung on a ship, every prayer whispered by drowning sailors, every magical battle fought on the coasts. The water carries news faster than any human communication."
"And what does the sea think of us?" Mystery asked quietly, his usual shyness replaced by something more intense.
You studied him for a long moment, reading the currents of power around him. "The sea thinks you're lost," you said finally. "All of you. You're powerful, but you're using that power for someone else's purposes. The water remembers when demons chose their own paths."
"We don't have a choice," Baby said, his childish facade completely dropped now. "We're bound to Gwi-Ma. We serve or we suffer."
"Everyone has choices," you countered. "Even bad ones that lead to binding contracts with demon kings." You looked directly at Jinu as you said this, and saw him wince.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Abby said, but there was no real anger in his voice. "You think it's easy being what we are?"
"I think it's easy to let fear make your decisions for you," you replied calmly. "I should know. I've been hiding in these waters for decades because I was afraid of what surface dwellers would do if they found me."
"And yet here you are," Jinu observed. "Talking to five demons you've never met."
You shrugged, the movement making your scales shimmer. "You rescued me. That counts for something. Besides," you added with a slight smile, "I'm curious about you. It's been a long time since I met anyone who carries as much genuine sadness as you do."
Jinu's expression darkened. "You don't want to know about my sadness."
"Maybe not," you agreed. "But I recognize it. The weight of leaving people behind, of choices that can't be undone. The sea is full of that kind of regret."
"Great," Baby muttered. "The magical fish girl is a therapist too."
"I prefer the term 'ancient sea witch,'" you corrected with dry humor. "And I'm not here to fix anyone. I'm just... curious about what five demons are planning that has the ocean itself worried."
Romance perked up at this. "The ocean is worried about us specifically?"
"The ocean is worried about what happens when the Honmoon falls," you said seriously. "When Gwi-Ma rises, his influence will spread to the water as well as the land. The sea has been free of his corruption for centuries. We'd like to keep it that way."
"So you're against us," Mystery said, though he didn't sound particularly upset about it.
"I'm against your master," you clarified. "You five... you're more complicated."
Before anyone could respond to that, Jinu's phone buzzed with an urgent text. He glanced at it and cursed under his breath. "We have to go. Bobby's looking for us, and if we're late for rehearsal again, he'll start asking questions we can't answer."
The others began moving toward shore, but Jinu lingered. "Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked quietly.
You tilted your head, studying his face. There was something vulnerable in his expression, something that made your chest tighten in a way you didn't entirely understand. "Why?"
"Because I'd like to talk to you again. When we have more time."
"And I'd like to know more about the ancient sea witch who can see through demon magic," Mystery added from the water's edge.
"I want to hear you sing properly," Romance called out, ever the romantic.
"I want to know if sirens can arm wrestle," Abby said, flexing again.
Baby just shrugged. "You're interesting. That doesn't happen often."
You found yourself smiling despite the complicated nature of your new acquaintances. "I'll be here," you said. "Same time tomorrow. But..." You paused, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I want honesty. No more pretending you're just a normal boy band. If we're going to talk, we talk truth."
"Deal," Jinu said immediately, and the others nodded their agreement.
As they walked away, dripping salt water and looking nothing like the polished idols their fans knew, you slipped back into the deeper water. But you didn't swim far. Instead, you floated just beneath the surface, watching them disappear up the coastal path.
For the first time in decades, you were looking forward to tomorrow.
And in the distance, carried on ocean winds that had blown across continents, you could swear you heard the faint sound of three girls singing—powerful voices that made the very air shimmer with protective magic. The Honmoon was strong today, but you could feel the cracks in it, small but growing.
Change was coming to the world above and below the waves. The question was what role you would play in it.
As you dove deeper into the blue-green depths, your tail cutting through the water like liquid starlight, you couldn't shake the image of Jinu's eyes—ancient and pained and hopeful all at once.
i know you usually write saja boys but your intro also says you’ll write huntrix stuffs…any chance of a fluffy polytrix fic ??
Ofc!! Here you dear. (3
Polytrix x female! Reader: Studio Sessions and Stolen Hearts
The smell of expensive coffee and vanilla candles filled the HUNTR/X recording studio as you nervously clutched your notebook against your chest. At nineteen, you were the youngest intern Moonbeam Entertainment had ever hired, and walking into the private workspace of the world's most famous K-pop demon hunters felt like stepping into a fever dream.
"You must be our new assistant!" Zoey's voice rang out before you even spotted her, and suddenly she was right in front of you, bouncing on her toes with an energy that could power half of Seoul. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked you up and down. "Wow, you're even cuter than your head shot. I'm Zoey, but you probably already knew that." She winked, and you felt heat creep up your neck.
"I—yes, hello, I'm Y/N," you managed, trying not to stare at how her black hair caught the studio lights. "I'm here to help with whatever you need for the new album."
"Whatever we need?" Mira's voice cut through the air like her legendary glaive, and you turned to see the pink-haired dancer leaning against the soundboard with her arms crossed. Her purple eyes assessed you with the same intensity she probably used to size up demons. "That's dangerous phrasing around us, newbie."
Before you could ask what she meant, a third voice joined the conversation—warm, melodic, with just a hint of that otherworldly quality that made Rumi's vocals so captivating. "Mira, don't scare her on her first day." Rumi emerged from behind the piano, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. Photos didn't do justice to how she commanded attention, how her presence filled the room even when she was just walking.
"I'm not scaring anyone," Mira protested, but there was a playful glint in her eyes that suggested otherwise. "I'm just saying, when you work with us, you tend to end up in interesting situations."
"Like that time our last assistant accidentally got caught in a demon barrier and spent three hours floating upside down," Zoey added helpfully, causing your eyes to widen.
"Zoey!" Rumi laughed, the sound making your heart skip. "That was classified information."
"Oops?" Zoey grinned, completely unrepentant. "Don't worry, Y/N, that hardly ever happens anymore. Maybe once a month, tops."
You weren't sure if she was joking, but given that these three literally fought supernatural creatures in their spare time, you decided it was better not to ask for clarification.
The first week passed in a blur of coffee runs, equipment checks, and trying not to trip over your own feet every time one of them smiled at you. Which was often. Concerningly often.
It started with small things. Rumi would brush her fingers against yours when you handed her sheet music, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Mira would find excuses to show you dance moves, positioning herself behind you with her hands on your hips to "correct your form" even though you weren't actually learning choreography. Zoey would write little notes in the margins of her lyric sheets—inside jokes, doodles of you with heart eyes, increasingly obvious pickup lines disguised as creative feedback.
"Is it just me," you asked your reflection in the bathroom mirror during week two, "or are they flirting with me? All of them?"
Your reflection, unhelpfully, did not answer.
The realization hit you fully during a late-night recording session. The girls were working on harmonies for their new track "Moonlight Warriors," and you were organizing their fan mail when you felt three pairs of eyes on you.
"Y/N," Rumi called softly. "Could you come listen to this? We need a fresh perspective."
You walked over to where they were clustered around the microphone, suddenly very aware of how they made room for you in the center of their little circle. Rumi pressed play on the demo, and their voices washed over you in perfect harmony—but you could barely focus on the music because Zoey was playing with the hem of your shirt, Mira was twirling a strand of your hair around her finger, and Rumi was looking at you like you held all the secrets of the universe.
"So?" Mira asked when the song ended. "What do you think?"
"I think," you said slowly, "that you three are not as subtle as you think you are."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then Zoey burst into laughter.
"Oh thank god," she gasped between giggles. "I was running out of ways to compliment your eyes in song lyrics. Do you know how many words rhyme with 'beautiful'? Not enough!"
"We were trying to be respectful," Rumi explained, though her cheeks were pink. "You're younger than us, and you work for us, so we didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"But," Mira added with that trademark bluntness, "we also didn't want to pretend we weren't interested when we very obviously are. All of us. In you. Together."
You blinked. "Together?"
"Is that okay?" Zoey asked, suddenly uncertain. The bubbly maknae looked almost shy, which was possibly the most adorable thing you'd ever seen. "I know it's not exactly conventional, but nothing about our lives is conventional. We fight demons for a living and perform in front of millions of people. Normal went out the window a long time ago."
You looked between the three of them—Rumi with her gentle smile and patient eyes, Mira with her bold confidence and protective stance, Zoey with her infectious energy and loyal heart. Three of the most amazing women you'd ever met, who somehow wanted to be with you.
"Okay," you said, and watched their faces light up like the Honmoon itself.
What followed was the most unconventional courtship in K-pop history.
Rumi would leave little origami flowers on your desk made from sheet music, each one inscribed with a line of poetry that made your heart race. She'd find quiet moments between takes to teach you basic Korean phrases, her hand warm on your back as she corrected your pronunciation.
Mira expressed affection through chaos, as was her nature. She'd choreograph silly dances just to make you laugh, dramatically declaring herself your "personal bodyguard" whenever staff members looked at you too long, and somehow always managed to "accidentally" order your favorite takeout when she was getting food for the studio.
Zoey wrote songs about you with increasingly less subtlety, including one memorable track called "Intern of My Dreams" that made you hide your face in your hands while Rumi and Mira dissolved into laughter. She also had a habit of stealing your hoodies and returning them smelling like her perfume.
The first time they all kissed you was after a particularly successful recording session. You were celebrating with takeout in the studio when Zoey looked up from her japchae and declared, "I think this calls for a group hug!"
Before you could protest, you were sandwiched between three very warm, very giggly K-pop stars. Somewhere in the tangle of arms and laughter, Rumi pressed a soft kiss to your temple, Mira kissed your cheek, and Zoey planted one right on your nose.
"Wait," you said, pulling back just enough to look at them. "Is this how you three show affection to all your interns?"
"Just the ones we want to date," Mira replied matter-of-factly.
"Date all of us," Zoey clarified. "At the same time. In case that wasn't clear."
"Very clear now," you laughed, and kissed each of them properly.
Dating three international superstars who moonlighted as demon hunters came with unique challenges. Like the time you were on a coffee date with Zoey and she suddenly froze mid-sentence, staring at something over your shoulder.
"Is that a low-level demon behind me?" you asked calmly, having learned to recognize the signs.
"Yep," she confirmed, already reaching for the throwing knives she kept hidden in her jacket. "Don't turn around."
"Should I call Rumi and Mira?"
"Nah, this one's small. I got it." She stood up casually, as if she was just going to the bathroom, and you heard a brief scuffle behind you followed by a sound like static electricity.
"All done!" Zoey announced, sitting back down and picking up her iced americano like nothing had happened. "Sorry about that. Where were we?"
"You were explaining why pineapple belongs on pizza," you said, having learned that the best way to handle these situations was to roll with them.
"Right! So basically, sweet and savory combinations are—"
Then there was the incident during your first official group date, when you were at an amusement park (in disguise, of course) and Mira's demon-sensing abilities went haywire on the haunted house ride.
"This is not a normal haunted house," she hissed, grabbing your hand as the cart lurched forward.
"What do you mean?" you whispered back.
"I mean there are actual spirits in here, and they're getting really excited about something."
That something, as it turned out, was the opportunity to meet real demon hunters. What should have been a cheesy ride through plastic skeletons became an impromptu meet-and-greet with various ghosts who were apparently huge HUNTR/X fans.
"I can't believe we're signing autographs for dead people," Zoey muttered as she used her phone's flashlight to write her name in the air for a particularly enthusiastic poltergeist.
"At least they're polite," Rumi pointed out, smiling graciously at a ghost who kept complimenting her vocal range. "Remember the demons who kept requesting encores during that fight in Busan?"
"Those were not encores," Mira corrected. "Those were death threats set to music."
You just sat in the cart, holding all their purses and wondering if this was what your life was going to be like now. You decided you were okay with that.
The media attention was... intense. Korean entertainment news outlets went into overdrive trying to figure out who the mystery girl was who'd been spotted with HUNTR/X at various locations around Seoul. Conspiracy theories ranged from "long-lost fourth member" to "secret demon hunter in training" to "alien girlfriend."
"Alien girlfriend?" you laughed, reading the headlines over Rumi's shoulder one morning. "That's new."
"I mean," Zoey said thoughtfully, "you did handle the whole 'we fight demons' thing unusually well. Most people need at least a week to process that information."
"Maybe I'm just adaptable," you suggested.
"Or maybe you're from space," Mira added unhelpfully. "That would explain why you're so cute. Earth girls aren't usually that cute."
"I'm literally from Earth," you protested. "I was born in the same hospital as you!"
"That's what an alien would say," Zoey pointed out with a grin.
This led to a week-long game where they would randomly ask you questions "only an Earth girl would know" and rate your answers for authenticity. You played along because their giggles were worth the absurdity.
The funniest part of dating them, though, was watching them try to navigate sharing you. They'd clearly never been in a polyamorous relationship before, and the learning curve was steep.
"I'm taking Y/N to lunch," Mira announced one afternoon.
"But I already planned to show her my new song lyrics," Zoey protested.
"And I wanted to teach her that piano piece she asked about," Rumi added.
They stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat. "You know you can all come to lunch, right? And Zoey can bring her lyrics, and Rumi can hum the piano piece. We don't have to take turns."
The look of revelation on their faces was priceless.
"Oh," said Rumi.
"Right," said Mira.
"That... makes sense," said Zoey.
"Sometimes I think you three can coordinate a perfect demon-hunting strategy but can't figure out how to share a girlfriend," you teased.
"Hey!" Mira protested. "Demon hunting is easy. Emotions are complicated."
She wasn't wrong.
Your favorite moments were the quiet ones, though. Late nights in the studio when they'd forgotten you were technically still working and would just... be themselves. Rumi would hum absentmindedly while writing music, occasionally breaking into full song when she thought no one was listening. Mira would practice choreography in the corner, her movements sharp and precise even when she was just marking the steps. Zoey would sprawl across the couch with her notebooks, scribbling lyrics and doodling in the margins.
And you'd sit at the desk, pretending to organize schedules while actually just watching them exist in their element, feeling impossibly lucky that they'd chosen to let you into this world.
"You're staring," Rumi would say without looking up from her composition, but she'd be smiling.
"Can you blame me?" you'd reply, which never failed to make all three of them grin.
The first time they said they loved you was, predictably, a disaster.
It happened during a group movie night at their dorm. You were sprawled across all three of them on their ridiculously large couch—your head in Rumi's lap, legs tangled with Zoey's, Mira's arm around your shoulders—watching some cheesy romance movie that Zoey had insisted on.
"This is so unrealistic," Mira complained as the male lead made some grand romantic gesture. "Who has time for elaborate proposal flash mobs when you're a working adult?"
"It's sweet!" Zoey defended. "Romance doesn't have to be practical."
"But it should be honest," Rumi added quietly, her fingers combing through your hair. "Grand gestures don't mean much if you can't handle the small moments."
"Like this?" you asked, gesturing to your current tangle of limbs.
"Like this," she confirmed, and then, probably without thinking about it, added, "I love moments like this. I love... this. You. I love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. Zoey sat bolt upright, nearly kicking you in the process.
"Did you just—" she started.
"Oh no," Mira said, "are we doing this now? Because I love her too, but I had a whole speech planned—"
"You had a speech?" Zoey demanded. "That's not fair! I was just going to wing it! But yes, I love you too, Y/N, and this is not how I wanted to say it—"
"This is chaos," Rumi said, but she was laughing.
"I love you all too," you interrupted before they could spiral further. "And this is exactly how I would want you to say it. Chaotic and unplanned and perfectly you."
The relief on their faces was immediate and overwhelming.
"Really?" Zoey asked.
"Really," you confirmed, and suddenly you were being hugged from three different directions while the movie played forgotten in the background.
Six months into your relationship, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. You'd been promoted from intern to official assistant, which mostly meant you got paid more to do the same thing you'd been doing anyway. The girls had gotten better at sharing (Mira had made a color-coded schedule, because of course she had), and you'd gotten used to the occasional demon-related interruption to your dates.
You'd also gotten used to the rumors. The latest theory was that you were secretly a government agent assigned to protect HUNTR/X, which you found hilarious because you could barely protect yourself from tripping over cables in the studio.
"At least they're not calling you an alien anymore," Rumi pointed out during a lunch date.
"I kind of liked the alien theory," Zoey said. "It was creative."
"The government agent one is more practical," Mira added. "It explains why you're around so much without being officially part of the group."
"Or," you suggested, "I could just be your girlfriend. All of your girlfriend. It's not that complicated."
"But it's more fun to speculate," Zoey grinned. "Besides, the truth would break the internet."
She wasn't wrong. HUNTR/X's fan base was intense under normal circumstances. If they found out their idols were in a polyamorous relationship with their nineteen-year-old assistant, the collective meltdown might actually tear a hole in space-time.
Not that you cared. You'd found something beautiful and chaotic and perfect with these three incredible women, and no amount of internet speculation was going to change that.
Although you did have to admit that the theories were getting more creative by the week.
"Time traveler," Zoey announced, reading her phone over breakfast. "That's a new one."
"From the future or the past?" Mira asked, genuinely curious.
"Future, apparently. Sent back to prevent some kind of demon apocalypse."
"That's actually not a bad plot for our next music video," Rumi mused.
You just shook your head and stole a piece of Zoey's toast. Your girlfriends were absolutely ridiculous, but they were yours, and you wouldn't change a thing.
Even if you were definitely going to have some very interesting stories to tell at your high school reunion.
Salutations again! I just saw fan art of Jinu and Rumi out and about when Jinu was about to kiss Rumi but ate the chocolate in her hand and ran with Rumi hot on his heels. And with that in mind, is it possible for you to have Saja Boys & Hunter/x (individually) lean in to kiss reader only to steal the snack right out of their hands! Then the reader either prys their mouth open to eat their stolen snack, sob uncontrollably, walk away only to come back with a metal chair/ stool in hand so on so forth! Have fun and remember to take care of yourself! Thank you for your time!! <3
Ofc, here you go. (3
Snack Heist Shenanigans: When Demons (and Hunters) Get Hungry
Jinu:
You had just unwrapped the most perfect piece of imported Belgian chocolate, the kind that cost way more than it should have but was absolutely worth every penny. The rich, dark square sat delicately between your fingers as you brought it closer to your lips, savoring the anticipation. That's when Jinu appeared beside you with that devastating smile of his, looking every bit the charming K-pop leader he portrayed on stage.
"You know," he said, his voice dropping to that smooth, honeyed tone that made fans swoon worldwide, "sharing is caring." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, close enough that you could smell his expensive cologne and see the way his perfectly styled hair caught the light. For a moment, your heart skipped as you thought he was going for a kiss—his face was so close, his lips slightly parted, eyes fluttering closed in the most romantic gesture you'd ever witnessed.
Instead, the sneaky demon snatched the chocolate right from between your fingers with his teeth, like some kind of suave chocolate-stealing ninja. "Mmm, excellent taste," he mumbled around the candy, already backing away with that infuriating smirk that somehow made him look even more attractive.
"JINU!" you screeched, but he was already bolting, his long legs carrying him away at superhuman speed. The audacity! Without hesitation, you launched yourself after him, chasing him around your apartment like some kind of demented game of tag. He kept just out of reach, occasionally glancing back with that chocolate-smeared grin, clearly enjoying himself far too much. When you finally cornered him in the kitchen, you grabbed him by the collar and pried his mouth open with your fingers—proper hygiene be damned—fishing around for your chocolate.
"It's already melted!" you wailed, finding only chocolatey evidence of your stolen treat.
"Was delicious though," Jinu said cheerfully, completely unbothered by your fingers in his mouth or your murderous expression. His demon healing probably meant he wasn't even worried about your nails.
Mystery Saja:
The bag of honey butter chips sat invitingly on the coffee table as you settled in for your drama marathon. You'd been saving these specific chips—the limited edition flavor that sold out everywhere—for this exact moment. As you reached for the bag, you noticed Mystery sitting beside you on the couch, though you hadn't heard him come in. Typical. The guy moved like a shadow.
His hair fell across half his face as always, making it impossible to read his expression, but something about his posture suggested he was in one of his rare talkative moods. When he leaned toward you, seemingly intent on whispering something romantic or mysterious in your ear, your heart did a little flutter. Mystery so rarely initiated any kind of contact.
Instead, you felt him smoothly pluck a chip from the bag with his lips, the motion so quick and silent you almost missed it. By the time you registered what happened, he was already chewing, a small satisfied sound escaping him—the most vocal he'd been all week.
"Hey!" you protested, but Mystery just tilted his head slightly, the visible half of his mouth quirking up in what might have been a smirk. Challenge accepted, apparently. You immediately tackled him, trying to wrestle the chip away, but he was surprisingly slippery for someone who looked so mysterious and brooding. He'd clearly been holding back during those "clumsy" moments around the other Saja Boys.
"Don't make me tickle you," you threatened, remembering that one time you'd accidentally discovered he was ticklish behind his ears.
Mystery went very still, then slowly reached into the bag and pulled out another chip, offering it to you with the same mysterious grace he offered everything else. Peace offering accepted, but you were definitely hiding your snacks better from now on.
Romance Saja:
The strawberry cheesecake slice you'd been looking forward to all day sat perfectly presented on the plate before you. After the week you'd had, this little moment of indulgence felt well-deserved. Romance appeared in the doorway looking like he'd stepped straight out of a romantic drama, his pink hair catching the light and those heart-shaped accessories somehow making him look both adorable and devastatingly attractive.
"That looks almost as sweet as you," he said, moving with that fluid grace all the Saja Boys possessed. His eyes sparkled with something you recognized as mischief, but you were too charmed by the compliment to be suspicious. When he cupped your face gently and leaned in with that soft, romantic smile, you melted a little. This was it—your perfect romantic moment.
Instead of a kiss, you felt him smoothly bite into your cheesecake, somehow managing to get both the strawberry and a huge chunk of the creamy filling in one go. He pulled back with bulging cheeks, looking ridiculously pleased with himself while making little hearts appear in the air around him with his demon powers.
"Romance!" you gasped, torn between anger and disbelief. "That was MY cheesecake!"
He swallowed and immediately began making exaggerated heart shapes with his hands, batting his eyelashes as if that would somehow make up for his theft. When that didn't work, he conjured a shower of pink heart confetti, grinning that charming smile that probably got him out of trouble with fans all the time.
You grabbed a throw pillow and began whacking him with it, chasing him around the living room while he laugh-giggled and continued making those stupid romantic gestures. "Your charm won't work on me!" you declared, though you were fighting a smile. The boy was ridiculous, but he was also kind of endearing in his over-the-top romantic way.
Finally, he stopped running and conjured a single red rose, offering it with a dramatic bow. "Forgive me?" he asked, and honestly, between the rose and those genuinely apologetic pink eyes, you were almost ready to. Almost.
Baby Saja:
The lollipop—a rainbow swirl of sugary perfection—was your afternoon pick-me-up, the one thing standing between you and a complete energy crash. Baby lounged nearby, looking deceptively innocent in his oversized sweater, absently swinging his legs from where he sat on the counter. For once, he wasn't wearing that calculated cute expression he used for fans, just looking genuinely relaxed and young.
When he slid closer with an almost shy smile, you thought maybe he was finally dropping some of those walls he kept up. He'd been more genuine around you lately, less of the manufactured adorable persona and more of whatever personality lay underneath all that sarcasm and emotional distance.
"Sharing is fundamental to human social bonding," he said in that matter-of-fact way of his, then leaned in like he was going to whisper something profound or maybe, just maybe, finally make a genuine romantic gesture.
Instead, the little demon smoothly stole your lollipop, somehow managing to take it cleanly from your mouth without even breaking it. He immediately popped it into his own mouth with a satisfied "ahh" sound, looking immensely pleased with his successful heist.
"BABY!" you shrieked, but he just smirked around the candy, swinging his legs faster in obvious amusement.
"Technically, I didn't lie," he said, pulling the lollipop out just long enough to speak. "This is social bonding. Very bonding. Much interaction happening."
You lunged for him, but he was surprisingly agile for someone who acted like such a baby on stage. He kept dodging with that deadpan expression, occasionally making sarcastic comments about your "aggressive bonding techniques" and "fascinating human behavioral patterns." The little smartass was clearly enjoying this way too much.
Eventually, you managed to tackle him, both of you ending up in a heap on the floor. As you wrestled for the lollipop, you couldn't help but notice he was actually laughing—not the fake giggle he used for cameras, but genuine laughter that made him seem centuries younger than he actually was.
Abby Saja:
Your protein bar—the good kind, with actual flavor and not the cardboard texture of most healthy snacks—was calling your name after your workout. You'd earned this, and you were going to savor every bite. Abby appeared in the gym doorway, somehow making even post-workout sweat look effortlessly attractive. His tank top clung to his impressively muscular frame, and you definitely noticed the way his arms flexed as he toweled off his hair.
"Looking strong," he commented, that confident edge in his voice that suggested he was well aware of his own appeal. When he stepped closer, invading your personal space in that boldly direct way of his, your pulse quickened. He was always observant, always aware of exactly how his presence affected others, and right now his attention was focused entirely on you.
As he leaned in, presumably to murmur something encouraging about your workout or maybe finally act on the obvious tension that had been building between you, you felt yourself holding your breath. This was Abby, after all—confident, gorgeous, completely aware of his own magnetism.
Instead, he bit into your protein bar with the efficiency of someone who'd clearly planned this maneuver, taking a substantial chunk that included your favorite part with the chocolate chips. He stepped back immediately, chewing with obvious satisfaction while maintaining that maddeningly confident expression.
"Excellent nutritional choice," he said matter-of-factly, as if stealing your post-workout snack was completely reasonable behavior.
"Are you serious right now?" you demanded, but Abby just flexed slightly—the show-off—and continued eating YOUR protein bar with obvious enjoyment.
That was it. You grabbed the nearest water bottle and began chasing him around the gym equipment, hurling fitness-related insults about his "gains" and his "macros" while he laughed and continued flexing just to irritate you further. The man was absolutely insufferable, but watching him dodge between treadmills while maintaining perfect form was honestly pretty impressive.
When you finally cornered him by the weight rack, you managed to tackle him onto one of the mats, both of you breathing hard and sweating more from the chase than the actual workout.
"Was it worth it?" you panted, glaring down at him.
He grinned up at you, completely unrepentant. "Definitely. Great protein content. Perfect post-workout fuel."
You contemplated suffocating him with a yoga mat.
Rumi:
The package of premium gummy bears—the expensive Korean ones that were perfectly chewy and came in exotic flavors—was your guilty pleasure for the evening. You'd hidden them from everyone else specifically because you knew they'd disappear within minutes around the other hunters. Rumi appeared beside you looking absolutely radiant as always, her natural elegance making even casual clothes look like high fashion.
"Those look delicious," she said with that warm, genuine smile that made her such a natural leader and beloved idol. There was something almost wistful in her expression, and you realized she probably didn't get to indulge in treats like this very often, what with her rigorous training schedule and the pressure of maintaining her perfect image.
When she leaned closer, seeming to study your face with those expressive eyes, you thought maybe she was having one of those rare vulnerable moments where she let her guard down. She'd been working so hard lately, carrying so much responsibility on her shoulders. Maybe she just needed some comfort, some simple human connection.
Instead, with the grace of a trained performer, she smoothly plucked a gummy bear from the package with her lips, the motion so elegant it looked almost choreographed. She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the flavor with obvious appreciation.
"Rumi!" you protested, clutching the package protectively.
"Sorry," she said, not looking sorry at all. "But they really are exceptional quality. The texture is perfect, and the flavor profile is remarkably complex for a simple confection."
Even her snack theft was eloquent and thoughtful. You couldn't decide whether to be impressed or annoyed. Probably both. When you half-heartedly swatted at her, she caught your hand with that dancer's reflexes, spinning you into an impromptu dance move that left you dizzy and laughing despite yourself.
"Dance battle for the gummies?" she suggested with a mischievous glint in her eyes that reminded you why she was such a captivating performer.
Challenge accepted.
Mira:
Your homemade brownies—the fudgy, perfect squares that had taken you three attempts to get right—were cooling on the counter when Mira strutted into the kitchen. She moved with that confident swagger that made her such a magnetic performer, all sharp edges and unapologetic attitude. Her punk-inspired accessories caught the light as she surveyed your handiwork with obvious approval.
"Not bad," she said, which from Mira was practically effusive praise. She had that look in her eyes, the one that suggested she was planning something that would probably annoy you but be impossible to actually stay mad about.
When she stepped into your personal space with that bold directness that was so quintessentially her, you felt your heart skip. Mira never did anything halfway—when she wanted something, she went after it with single-minded determination. Right now, all that focused intensity was directed at you, and it was honestly a little overwhelming.
As she leaned in with that smirk that promised either trouble or excitement (possibly both), you found yourself leaning toward her as well. This was exactly the kind of spontaneous, passionate moment you'd imagined might happen between you two.
Instead, she bit into the corner brownie—the best piece, with the perfect ratio of edge to center—and pulled back with obvious satisfaction. She chewed slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time like she was challenging you to do something about it.
"Mira!" you gasped, reaching for the tray, but she was faster, snatching another piece before dancing backward with that infuriating grin.
"What? You said they needed taste-testing," she said with mock innocence, though the gleam in her eyes was pure mischief.
You grabbed a wooden spoon and began chasing her around the kitchen, both of you laughing despite the ongoing brownie war. She kept just out of reach, occasionally snatching another bite when you got distracted by how graceful she looked even while dodging kitchen utensils.
"You're paying for ingredients!" you declared, finally cornering her by the refrigerator.
"Worth it," she replied, offering you the last bite of your own brownie with a grin that was both apologetic and completely unrepentant.
Zoey:
Your bag of Korean fried chicken flavored chips—the ones that somehow managed to capture the exact taste of your favorite meal in crispy form—was your comfort food after a long day. Zoey bounced into the room with that infectious energy that made her such a beloved maknae, her colorful outfit somehow managing to be both cute and edgy at the same time.
"Ooh, what are those?" she asked with genuine curiosity, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the brand. Despite her bubbly exterior, you'd learned that Zoey was incredibly observant and surprisingly strategic when she wanted something.
When she plopped down beside you with that casual friendliness, chattering about her day and seeming genuinely interested in yours, you found yourself relaxing. This was the side of Zoey you liked best—when she wasn't worried about being "too much" or trying to please everyone, just being her naturally enthusiastic self.
As she leaned closer, ostensibly to get a better look at your phone screen where you were showing her something funny, you didn't think anything of it. Zoey was naturally affectionate, always ready with hugs and casual contact. So when she tilted her head up with that sweet smile, you assumed she was just being her usual adorable self.
Instead, with the lightning-fast reflexes of a trained demon hunter and rapper, she snatched a handful of chips and stuffed them all in her mouth at once, her cheeks bulging comically as she tried to chew the massive mouthful.
"Zoey!" you yelped, but she just grinned around her stolen treasure, giving you a thumbs up and making appreciative sounds.
"Mmm-hmm! Really good!" she managed to say around the chips, crumbs falling everywhere.
The sight was so ridiculous—sweet, innocent Zoey looking like a chipmunk with her cheeks stuffed full of your chips—that you couldn't help but laugh even as you lunged for the bag. She was surprisingly quick for someone currently handicapped by an overambitious mouthful of snacks, dodging around the furniture while you chased her.
"This is why you're the troublemaker of the group!" you accused, but she just giggled and kept running, occasionally pausing to grab another handful when she thought you weren't looking.
Eventually, you both collapsed on the couch, breathless from laughing and running. Zoey, having finally swallowed her stolen bounty, immediately cuddled up to you with that irresistible aegyo that made it impossible to stay annoyed.
"Forgive me?" she asked with those big, innocent eyes, and honestly, how could you say no to that face?
Hellooo!! I lovee your were snow leopard reader fic(?). https://www.tumblr.com/demonboysdelight/789670013709746176/oh-can-i-request-poly-saja-boys-with-a-were-snow?source=share
Can i request a part 2? Like the saja boys hearing her make chirps and purrs when content? And the thing with cat eyes, the one where they'll go round like boba when being playful>< i really like your writingg, thank youu
Hello!! I'm so happy to read that you liked the Were-Snow Leopard reader fic. Here's part 2, enjoy! :)
The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Saja Boys' apartment, painting golden rectangles across the hardwood floors. You were sprawled across the large sectional sofa in what could only be described as a classic cat loaf position—legs tucked beneath you, Derpy plushie secured in your arms along with the new snow leopard keychain that Jinu had given you yesterday.
A soft, rhythmic rumbling sound filled the peaceful silence of the living room. It wasn't quite a purr in the traditional sense, but rather something uniquely yours—a contentment sound that sat somewhere between a snow leopard's chuff and a domestic cat's purr. Your tail, as usual, had found its way to your mouth, and you were unconsciously grooming the tip while half-dozing in the warm sunlight.
"Is that... is she purring?" Romance's voice came from the kitchen, though he was clearly trying to whisper.
The rumbling stopped immediately as your ears swiveled toward the sound, though you didn't lift your head from where it was pillowed on Derpy's soft body.
"I think she is," came Jinu's equally hushed response. "I've never heard her make that sound before."
You could hear Baby's characteristically manic whisper joining the conversation: "It's like she's a giant house cat! But, you know, more exotic and potentially deadly."
The soft padding of feet across the floor told you someone was approaching, but you kept your eyes closed, feigning sleep. The couch dipped slightly as someone settled beside you.
"I know you're awake, snow kitten," Mystery's quiet voice murmured near your ear. For someone who rarely spoke, he had an uncanny ability to read your moods and behaviors.
You cracked one eye open, peering up at him through your lashes. "How did you know?"
"Your breathing changed," he said simply, his violet hair creating a curtain that made your conversation feel private despite the other boys lingering nearby. "And your tail stopped twitching."
Indeed, your tail had gone still in your mouth when you'd tried to fake sleeping. You hadn't even realized you'd been making the rhythmic tail movements that accompanied your contentment sounds.
"Was I being loud?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious about the purring sounds you'd been making. "I didn't mean to disturb anyone."
"Disturb us?" Abby's deep voice came from behind the couch, and you tilted your head back to see him looking down at you with something approaching amazement. "That's the most peaceful sound I've heard in centuries."
You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you realized all five boys were now gathered around the living room, watching you with various expressions of fascination and affection.
"It's just... a thing I do when I'm really comfortable," you mumbled, your tail sliding from your mouth so you could speak more clearly. "Most people find it weird."
"Most people are idiots," Romance said firmly, settling onto the floor beside the couch so he was at eye level with you. "Can you do it again?"
"It's not really something I control," you explained, unconsciously bringing your tail back toward your mouth before stopping yourself. "It just happens when I'm content and safe."
Jinu moved to sit in the armchair across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "You mean like purring for cats?"
"Sort of," you said, finally sitting up properly and adjusting Derpy in your lap. "Snow leopards don't exactly purr like house cats, but we make different sounds for different moods. That was my 'everything is perfect and I don't want to move ever' sound."
Baby bounced excitedly from foot to foot. "What other sounds do you make? Do you roar? Can you chuff? Oh! What about those weird yowling sounds cats make at three AM?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his rapid-fire questions. "I don't roar, actually. Snow leopards can't roar because our throat structure is different from lions or tigers. But we can chuff, which is like... a friendly greeting sound."
"Show us," Mystery requested quietly, and the simple fact that he'd asked for something made it impossible to refuse.
You felt a bit silly, but the genuine curiosity in all their faces encouraged you. You made a soft chuffing sound—a short, breathy vocalization that was distinctly different from your earlier contentment purring.
The effect on the boys was immediate. Romance's eyes went wide, Baby let out a delighted giggle, Abby's stoic expression softened considerably, Mystery actually smiled slightly, and Jinu looked like he'd just witnessed something magical.
"That's the most adorable sound I've ever heard," Romance said, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "It's like you're saying hello in your own language."
"I kind of am," you admitted. "It's a non-threatening way of acknowledging someone's presence. I've been wanting to do it to all of you for weeks, but I wasn't sure how you'd react."
"Why would you think we'd react badly?" Jinu asked, genuine confusion in his voice.
You shrugged, unconsciously bringing your tail back to your mouth. "Past experience. Most people think were-creature sounds are either threatening or just weird. I had a boyfriend once who told me my purring made him uncomfortable because it reminded him that I wasn't 'normal.'"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Baby's manic energy shifted into something more dangerous, Abby's hands clenched into fists, Romance's flirtatious smile disappeared entirely, Mystery went very still, and Jinu's eyes flashed with something that looked distinctly demonic.
"He said what?" Romance's voice was deadly quiet.
"It's fine," you said quickly, recognizing the protective anger radiating from all of them. "We broke up. It was a long time ago."
"It's not fine," Abby said firmly. "You should never have to hide parts of yourself to make someone else comfortable."
"Says the demon who spent months pretending to be a human idol," you pointed out with a slight smile.
"That's different," Jinu said. "We were hiding what we are to accomplish a mission. You were hiding what you are because someone made you feel ashamed of it."
The distinction hit you harder than you'd expected. They were right—there was a world of difference between strategic concealment and shame-based hiding.
"Well," you said softly, "I don't have to hide it anymore, right?"
"Never," Mystery said with quiet intensity. "Not with us."
As if to test this promise, you let yourself relax back into the couch cushions, Derpy clutched against your chest. Almost immediately, the soft rumbling purr started up again, your contentment at their acceptance and protection flowing through the sound.
This time, instead of stopping the sound out of embarrassment, you let it continue. Your eyes drifted closed as the morning sun warmed your face, and you felt that perfect combination of safety and belonging that triggered your deepest contentment responses.
"There it is again," Romance whispered, but this time his voice held nothing but wonder.
You were so relaxed that you almost didn't notice when your other snow leopard traits began to emerge. Your breathing slowed and deepened, your tail found its familiar place in your mouth, and most tellingly, your pupils began to shift.
"Uh, Y/N?" Baby's voice had a note of fascination. "Your eyes are doing something really interesting."
You blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face. "What do you mean?"
"They've gone all round," Romance said, moving closer to get a better look. "Like... really, really round. It's actually kind of amazing."
You felt your cheeks heat up again. "Oh. That happens when I'm in a particularly playful or content mood. My pupils dilate differently than humans'."
"They look like little golden moons," Jinu observed, his voice soft with something like reverence. "Or those pearls in bubble tea."
"Boba eyes!" Baby exclaimed with delight. "She has boba eyes! That's going to be my new favorite thing."
You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, which only made your pupils dilate further. "It's just a were-creature thing. Our eyes respond differently to emotional states, not just light levels."
"It's beautiful," Mystery said quietly, and coming from him, the simple statement felt like the highest compliment you could receive.
Abby moved to sit on the floor near Romance, his large frame folding down with surprising grace. "What other things change when you're in different moods?"
You considered the question, absently chewing on your tail tip while you thought. "Well, my ears move a lot when I'm focused or alert. My tail movements change depending on my emotions—it's different from dogs, though. And I guess my scent changes too, though most people can't detect that."
"We're not most people," Jinu pointed out with a slight smile. "We can definitely smell the changes in your scent. It's gotten sweeter since yesterday."
"Since you told us you knew what we were," Romance added. "Like you're not stressed about hiding anymore."
The observation made your purring intensify. They were right—you hadn't realized how much constant tension you'd been carrying, always monitoring yourself to make sure you weren't being too obviously non-human.
"This is nice," you murmured, letting your eyes drift closed again. "I haven't felt this relaxed in... maybe ever."
"Good," Abby said firmly. "You should always feel safe enough to be yourself."
Baby, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for almost thirty seconds, suddenly perked up with manic energy. "Can you do the chuffing thing while purring? What about if you're excited instead of content? Oh! What if someone surprises you? Do you make startled cat noises?"
"Baby," Jinu said with fond exasperation, "give her a chance to answer before asking seventeen more questions."
"It's okay," you said, amused by Baby's chaotic curiosity. "I can chuff while purring—it's like talking over a humming sound. And when I'm excited, my sounds get more chirpy."
"Chirpy?" Romance's eyes lit up with interest.
"Like this," you said, letting excitement bubble up in your chest as you thought about how accepting they'd all been. A series of soft chirping sounds escaped you—higher pitched than your purring, more musical than your chuffing.
The effect on the Saja Boys was even more pronounced this time. Baby actually made a sound that might have been a squeak of delight, Romance looked like he might melt right into the floor, Mystery's smile became slightly more visible, Abby's expression went soft enough to be almost unrecognizable, and Jinu looked like he was witnessing something sacred.
"That's it," Romance declared dramatically, "I'm never letting you leave this apartment again. You're too precious for the outside world."
"I have to leave sometimes," you protested, though your chirping intensified with amusement. "I need groceries. And work."
"We'll get your groceries," Abby said immediately. "What kind of work do you do?"
"I'm a freelance wildlife photographer," you said. "Mostly big cats, but I specialize in snow leopards. It's useful having the instincts to understand their behavior."
"That's perfect," Jinu said. "You can work from anywhere with that setup."
"Are you trying to convince me to move in?" you asked, though the idea sent a warm flutter through your chest.
"Would it work?" Mystery asked quietly.
The simple question, combined with the hopeful expressions on all their faces, made your heart race. Your purring shifted into something closer to those excited chirping sounds.
"I... I'd like that," you admitted. "I mean, if you're sure you want someone around who makes weird noises and chews on her own tail."
"We're demons pretending to be K-pop idols," Baby pointed out with his characteristic blunt honesty. "Your 'weird' noises are the most normal thing about this household."
"Plus," Romance added with his flirtatious grin returning, "those sounds are going to be my new favorite music."
Abby nodded his agreement. "Better than any song we've recorded."
"Speaking of which," Jinu said thoughtfully, "we should probably warn you that our music has... effects on people. It's part of what we are."
"What kind of effects?" you asked curiously.
"Usually hypnotic," Mystery explained. "Designed to entrance humans so we can... well, originally it was to steal their souls."
"But we're not doing that anymore," Romance added quickly. "We haven't since we met you, actually."
"Does it work on were-creatures?" you asked, more curious than concerned.
"We don't know," Jinu admitted. "Do you want to find out?"
Your pupils dilated even further with interest, making your eyes look almost perfectly round. "Can we try it?"
Baby clapped his hands together excitedly. "Science experiment! I love it!"
"What song should we start with?" Romance asked, already reaching for his phone.
"Something gentle," Abby suggested. "We don't want to overwhelm her."
They settled on "Soda Pop," explaining that it was one of their less intense songs. As the music began to play, you watched their faces carefully, looking for any signs of the hypnotic influence they'd mentioned.
The song was undeniably catchy, and you found yourself swaying slightly to the rhythm, but you didn't feel any loss of control or strange compulsions. If anything, watching the boys unconsciously fall into their choreographed movements while sitting around the living room just made you chirp with amusement.
"Well?" Jinu asked when the song ended.
"I liked it," you said honestly. "It made me want to dance, but not in a weird compulsive way. More like... normal music makes people want to dance?"
"So it doesn't work on you," Mystery observed.
"Probably because I'm not fully human," you mused. "Were-creatures have natural resistance to supernatural influence. It's a survival trait."
"That's actually really useful to know," Romance said thoughtfully. "It means you can tell us if our music starts affecting you in ways we don't intend."
"Like a supernatural music quality control consultant," Baby added with a giggle.
Your tail was fully in your mouth now, and you were making soft, continuous purring sounds as the conversation flowed around you. This was exactly the kind of moment that triggered your deepest contentment responses—being surrounded by people who not only accepted your were-creature nature but were genuinely fascinated by it.
"Look at those eyes," Romance said softly. "She's so happy her pupils have basically taken over her entire iris."
"Boba eyes," Baby whispered reverently.
"I can't help it," you said around your tail, though the words came out slightly muffled. "This is the best morning I've had in years."
Abby reached out to gently stroke your ankle where it was tucked under you. "Every morning can be like this now."
"Really?" The hope in your voice made your chirping sounds return.
"Really," Jinu confirmed. "You're part of our pride now, remember?"
As if summoned by the word 'pride,' your purring intensified until it was almost as loud as a house cat's. Your eyes went impossibly round with contentment, your tail curled around your face in your mouth, and you snuggled deeper into the couch cushions with Derpy held tight against your chest.
"I think we broke her," Romance said with fond amusement.
"In the best possible way," Mystery added quietly.
And as you drifted in that perfect state between waking and dozing, surrounded by the demons who had somehow become your family, you realized that for the first time in your life, you didn't have to choose between being accepted and being yourself.
You could be both. You could chirp and purr and chuff and make all the sounds that felt natural. You could chew on your tail and have boba eyes and be exactly as solitary or social as your snow leopard nature demanded.
Most importantly, you could love and be loved exactly as you were—tail-chewing habit, Derpy obsession, weird noises and all.
The purring that filled the apartment was the sound of a were-snow leopard who had finally, truly, come home.
What about the saja boys sex ban thing, but they listen? Like, you tell them no sex for however long, and they break. "Baby, please!" "Wait, no, don't do that to me, babe!" Shit like that.
This is totally not stemming from my need to have control over powerful men, what? Totally...
Here you go, I hope it's up to your satisfaction. :)
Saja Boys React to Their S/O Putting Them on a Sex Ban
Jinu:
The leader of the Saja Boys had always prided himself on his control, his ability to manipulate any situation to his advantage with that signature cocky smirk and silver tongue that had charmed countless fans. But as you stood before him in your shared apartment, arms crossed and expression resolute, Jinu felt that carefully constructed confidence begin to crack like ice under pressure.
"What do you mean, no sex?" he asked, that familiar arrogant lilt in his voice wavering just slightly. His dark eyes searched your face for any hint that this was some elaborate joke, but the serious set of your jaw told him otherwise. You were younger than him by centuries, yet in this moment, you wielded a power over the ancient demon that even Gwi-Ma had never possessed.
"Exactly what I said," you replied firmly. "Two weeks. No sex, no fooling around, nothing." The reason didn't matter—maybe he'd been too cocky during your last argument, too dismissive of your feelings. Whatever it was, you'd decided he needed to learn a lesson in humility.
For the first few days, Jinu maintained his swagger. He'd lean against door frames with that infuriating smirk, running his fingers through his perfectly styled black hair as he watched you move around the apartment. "You know you want to," he'd purr in that honey-smooth voice that had once convinced desperate souls to sign their lives away. "Why torture yourself, baby? We both know how this ends."
But you held firm, and by day four, cracks began to show in his facade. The cocky remarks became more desperate, tinged with genuine pleading that he tried to disguise as playful banter. You'd catch him staring at you with an intensity that burned through his usual cool demeanor, his jaw clenched as he fought against instincts that had been denied for what felt like an eternity to his impatient nature.
By the end of the first week, the great Jinu—leader of demons, charmer of souls—was reduced to following you around like a lovesick puppy. His all-over-the-place energy had nowhere to direct itself except toward you, and the results were both pathetic and endearing. He'd appear in whatever room you occupied, finding increasingly ridiculous excuses to be near you.
"The, uh, the kitchen faucet might be leaking," he'd say, hovering behind you as you cooked dinner, his breath warm against your neck. "Should probably check on that. You know, for safety." His hands would ghost over your waist, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"Jinu, that faucet has been fine for months," you'd reply without turning around, but you could practically hear his pout.
The breaking point came on day nine. You'd woken up to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands—a far cry from his usually perfect posture. His hair was disheveled from running his fingers through it, and when he looked up at you with those expressive dark eyes, you saw something you'd never seen before: complete vulnerability.
"Baby, please," he whispered, and his voice cracked on the word. Gone was the smooth manipulation, the calculated charm. This was raw, honest desperation from someone who'd spent centuries hiding behind masks. "I can't— This is torture worse than anything Gwi-Ma ever put me through." He reached for your hand with trembling fingers, and you let him take it. "I know I was an ass, okay? I know I take you for granted sometimes with all my cocky bullshit, but please—"
His thumb traced patterns on your palm, a nervous habit you'd noticed he did when his carefully constructed walls were crumbling. "I've been alive for over four hundred years, and nothing—nothing—has ever made me feel as desperate as not being able to touch you properly. You're younger than me, but somehow you've got me wrapped around your little finger, and I—" He swallowed hard, pride warring with need. "I need you. Not just the sex, but you. The way you ground me when my thoughts get scattered, the way you see through all my facades..."
You watched as the great manipulator, the silver-tongued demon who'd convinced souls to damn themselves, fumbled for words like a nervous teenager. His usual quick wit had abandoned him entirely, leaving only honest, desperate longing.
"Please, baby," he continued, scooting closer until his knees touched yours. "I'll do anything. I'll cook for you every day—and I mean actually cook, not just order takeout and claim I made it. I'll watch those historical documentaries you love without complaining about how boring they are. Hell, I'll even admit to the other boys that I'm completely whipped for someone younger than me if that's what it takes."
The admission cost him—you could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, how his free hand clenched into a fist. His pride had always been both his greatest weapon and his greatest weakness, and here he was, offering to sacrifice it entirely for you.
"Just... don't do this to me anymore, babe," he pleaded, bringing your hand to his lips to press desperate kisses to your knuckles. "I'm going insane. Yesterday I got jealous of the way you smiled at the delivery guy, and then I realized I was being jealous of someone who'd barely looked at you for two seconds. That's not me. I don't get jealous. I don't beg. But for you..." He met your eyes, and in them you saw centuries of carefully hidden emotion finally spilling over. "For you, I'll get on my knees and beg if that's what you want."
And he did. The leader of the Saja Boys, the demon who commanded respect and fear in equal measure, slipped from the bed to kneel before you, his hands still clutching yours like a lifeline. "Please, baby. I've learned my lesson. I'll never dismiss your feelings again, never assume my charm can fix everything. Just... please don't make me go another day without being able to show you how much you mean to me."
The sight of him—proud, arrogant Jinu—on his knees, begging with tears actually threatening to spill from his eyes, finally broke your resolve. Because beneath all the cockiness and manipulation, you could see the truth: he wasn't just desperate for physical release. He was desperate for you, for the connection you'd built together, for the way you'd somehow managed to find the parts of his soul he thought Gwi-Ma had destroyed long ago.
Mystery:
Mystery had always been exactly that—a mystery. Even to you, his younger partner who'd somehow managed to capture the heart of the Saja Boys' most enigmatic member, he remained an puzzle wrapped in silver-violet hair and hidden behind eyes you'd only glimpsed in the most intimate moments. So when you announced your decision to put him on a sex ban, his reaction was as subtle and devastating as everything else about him.
He simply... stopped. Stopped the little touches, the brief moments where his hair would part just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes, the way he'd hover near you like a shadow seeking warmth. Instead, Mystery retreated into himself so completely that you wondered if you'd made a terrible mistake.
The first few days passed in eerie silence. Mystery had always been the quiet one, but this was different. Where before his presence had been comforting—a steady, observant force that made you feel protected and cherished—now it felt hollow. He moved through your shared space like a ghost, there but not really there, and the absence of his subtle affections was more noticeable than any dramatic outburst would have been.
You'd catch glimpses of him watching you from doorways, that silver-violet hair falling like a curtain to hide whatever expression might be on his hidden face. But the moment you'd look directly at him, he'd disappear, fading into shadows with the grace of someone who'd made an art form of not being seen.
By day three, you realized just how much Mystery's quiet presence had meant to you. The way he'd wordlessly appear with your favorite tea when you were stressed, how his fingers would briefly brush yours when passing you something, the soft sound of his breathing next to you as you fell asleep—all of it was gone, leaving an aching void that seemed to grow larger with each passing hour.
It was the little things that broke your heart. Finding him curled up on the couch in the living room when you woke up, instead of in bed beside you. The way he'd start to reach for you, then catch himself and pull back as if you'd burned him. How he'd begun making those soft, almost animalistic sounds—little whimpers and sighs that he probably didn't even realize he was making.
The breaking point came on day six, and it wasn't dramatic or loud. You found him in the bathroom at 3 AM, sitting on the floor with his back against the bathtub, knees drawn to his chest. His hair had fallen forward even more than usual, completely obscuring his face, and his shoulders were shaking in a way that made your heart clench.
"Mystery?" you whispered, kneeling beside him.
The sound he made was broken, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. When he finally spoke, his voice was so soft you had to strain to hear it. "Can't... can't sleep without you near me," he admitted, and the words seemed to cost him everything. "Keep reaching for you, but you're not there."
Your heart shattered at the raw vulnerability in his voice. Mystery, who rarely spoke above a whisper, who kept himself hidden from the world, was coming apart at the seams because of your absence. You realized then that for someone who experienced the world primarily through touch and proximity rather than words, your ban wasn't just physical—it was cutting him off from his primary means of connection and communication.
"I keep having the dreams again," he continued, his voice barely audible. "The ones from before... before I became this. Dark places, cold places. Always wake up reaching for you, but you're not..." He trailed off, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.
You'd never heard Mystery talk about his past, had never pushed because you knew how difficult it was for him to open up. But here, in the dim bathroom light, he was offering you pieces of himself that he'd never shared with anyone.
"Used to sleep in the shadows," he whispered. "Always hiding, always alone. Then you... you made it safe to be close to someone. Made it safe to let someone see me, even just a little." His head tilted up slightly, though his hair still hid his face from view. "Now it's cold again. Empty."
The raw pain in his voice was devastating. You reached out instinctively, then stopped yourself, remembering the ban. But Mystery must have seen the movement because he made a sound like a wounded animal.
"Please," he breathed, and it was the most desperate you'd ever heard him sound. "Don't have words like the others do. Don't know how to... how to ask properly. But please." His hand emerged from beneath the curtain of his hair, reaching toward you but stopping just short of contact. "Miss you. Miss being able to... to touch you. To feel real."
You stared at his pale, slender fingers trembling in the space between you, and realized what an idiot you'd been. Mystery wasn't like the others—he didn't express himself through grand gestures or eloquent speeches. His love language was touch, proximity, the quiet comfort of shared presence. By banning physical contact, you'd essentially banned him from being able to show you love in the only way he knew how.
"I know I'm not good with words," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "Know I don't say pretty things like Romance or make you laugh like Baby or charm you like Jinu. All I can do is... is be near you. Touch you. Show you with my hands what I can't say out loud." His fingers curled slightly, as if trying to touch air. "Without that, I'm just... empty. Invisible again."
The admission destroyed you. Here was this beautiful, mysterious creature who'd given you the privilege of glimpsing behind his carefully constructed walls, and you'd responded by taking away the only method he had of expressing his devotion. His quiet, steady love that asked for nothing but your presence in return.
"Baby, wait, no, don't do that to me," he whispered when he saw you reaching for him again, mistaking your movement for another withdrawal. "Can't take much more of this. Feel like I'm disappearing without you to anchor me." His hidden eyes seemed to find yours despite the hair blocking them. "Please. Whatever I did wrong, I'll fix it. Just... just let me touch you again. Let me remember I'm real."
The vulnerability in his voice, the way this normally composed and mysterious figure was literally falling apart without your touch, finally broke through your resolve. Because you realized that Mystery's love was perhaps the purest of all—wordless, unconditional, asking for nothing but the simple privilege of being close to you. And you'd thrown that back in his face over what now seemed like the most trivial slight imaginable.
Baby:
Baby's reaction to your sex ban was perhaps the most unsettling of all, precisely because it was so calculated. When you first announced your decision, standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom with your arms crossed and expression stern, his response was to simply blink at you with those sharp, intelligent eyes and tilt his head slightly—like a curious cat who'd just been presented with an interesting puzzle.
"Okay," he said simply, his voice carrying that slightly deadpan tone that always made it impossible to tell what he was really thinking. "And how long is this little tantrum supposed to last?"
The casual dismissal in his voice made your blood boil, which was exactly what he'd intended. Baby was centuries old, despite his youthful appearance, and he'd learned long ago that the best way to manipulate people was to make them think they were the ones being irrational. But you held firm, naming your timeline, and watched as something flickered behind those deceptively innocent eyes.
"Two weeks?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it—just that dry, sarcastic sound that meant he thought you were being ridiculous. "Babe, you do realize I'm literally centuries old, right? I've gone longer than two weeks without sex just because I was bored. This isn't the punishment you think it is."
But even as he spoke, you caught the way his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, how his fingers drummed against his thigh in a pattern that suggested he was more affected than he wanted to admit. Baby was a master of emotional manipulation, but he was also proud—and that pride wouldn't let him admit that your withdrawal actually bothered him.
The first few days seemed to prove his point. He went about his routine normally, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face whenever he looked at you. He'd make pointed comments about how "some people" were being childish, how he'd "outlasted demon kings and apocalypses" so he certainly wasn't going to be broken by something as trivial as temporary celibacy.
But you knew Baby better than he thought you did. You'd learned to read the subtle tells that betrayed his true feelings beneath that sarcastic exterior. The way he'd started biting his lower lip when he thought you weren't looking. How his usual lounging positions had become more restless, his body language betraying an agitation he refused to acknowledge verbally.
By day four, the cracks in his facade were starting to show. You'd find him staring at you with an intensity that made your skin prickle, his gaze following your movements around the apartment with predatory focus. When you'd catch him at it, he'd just raise an eyebrow and make some cutting remark about how "some people are awfully paranoid," but the flush creeping up his neck told a different story.
The first real break in his composure came on day six. You'd been getting ready for bed, changing into your pajamas, when you felt eyes on you. Turning, you found Baby in the doorway, no longer bothering to hide the fact that he was watching you intently. But for once, there was no smirk, no sarcastic comment ready on his lips.
"This is stupid," he said suddenly, his voice lacking its usual sardonic edge. "We both want the same thing, so why are we playing these games?"
"Because you were being an ass," you replied calmly, continuing to get ready for bed. "And you need to learn that there are consequences for that."
Something dark flickered across his expression—not anger, but something deeper. "Consequences," he repeated, and there was an odd note in his voice. "You know, most people who tried to give me 'consequences' ended up regretting it."
It was the first glimpse you'd seen of the true darkness that lurked beneath his youthful exterior, the reminder that despite his appearance, Baby was an ancient, powerful being who wasn't accustomed to being denied anything he wanted. But instead of intimidating you, it only strengthened your resolve.
"I'm not most people," you said simply, and the way his expression shifted—surprise, then something that might have been respect—told you that your calm response had caught him off guard.
By day eight, his carefully constructed emotional walls were crumbling entirely. You woke up to find him sitting in a chair next to the bed, just... watching you sleep. When your eyes opened, he didn't look away or make an excuse. He just stared at you with an expression so vulnerable it took your breath away.
"I lied," he said quietly, his voice stripped of all its usual sarcasm. "About being able to go two weeks easily. I lied about not caring." His hands were clenched in his lap, knuckles white with tension. "I've been... I haven't been sleeping well. Keep thinking about you, about how you feel, how you taste..." He trailed off, a flush creeping up his neck.
This was new territory for Baby—honest vulnerability without any of his usual deflection or manipulation. It was clearly costing him, his pride warring with his desperate need for you.
"I don't like feeling like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don't like feeling... weak. Needy. But you make me feel things I haven't felt in centuries, and I—" He stopped, jaw working as he struggled with words that didn't come naturally to someone who preferred to hide behind sarcasm and emotional distance.
The breaking point came on day ten, and it was devastating in its simplicity. You'd been working at your laptop when you felt him approach, moving with that eerily silent grace that reminded you he was far from human. But instead of his usual predatory confidence, there was something hesitant in his movements.
"Baby, please," he said, and his voice cracked on the word. The sound was so unexpected from someone usually so composed that you looked up in shock. "Please, I can't... I'm going insane. I know you think I'm just being dramatic, but I'm not. I'm actually losing my mind."
He sank to his knees beside your chair, and the sight of Baby—proud, sarcastic, emotionally distant Baby—on his knees was so shocking you nearly dropped your laptop.
"I've been alive for centuries," he continued, his voice raw with desperation. "I've survived demon wars, soul harvesting, the literal apocalypse. But this... this is breaking me in ways that none of that ever did." His hands hovered near your legs, trembling with the effort of not touching. "You're younger than me, so much younger, but somehow you've become... everything. The only thing that makes any of this cursed existence bearable."
Tears—actual tears—were sliding down his cheeks, and the sight was so jarring you felt your heart skip a beat. You'd never seen Baby cry, had never even imagined he was capable of it.
"I know I'm supposed to be this ancient, powerful being who doesn't need anyone," he whispered. "But I need you. I need you so much it terrifies me, and I don't know how to handle that. Don't know how to be vulnerable without feeling like I'm going to fall apart completely."
His composure was shattered now, centuries of emotional armor stripped away to reveal the desperate, needy creature underneath. "Please don't punish me like this anymore," he begged. "I'll be better, I'll stop being such a sarcastic ass, I'll try to actually talk about my feelings instead of hiding behind jokes. Just please... please touch me again. I'm disappearing without you."
The sight of this ancient, powerful being reduced to tears and desperate pleas finally broke your resolve. Because beneath all the sarcasm and emotional manipulation, you could see the truth—Baby wasn't just desperate for sex. He was desperate for the connection, the intimacy, the proof that someone could see past his difficult exterior and still choose to love him. And by withholding that, you'd struck at his deepest fear: that he was unlovable without the physical connection to prove otherwise.
Abby:
Abby's initial reaction to your sex ban was exactly what you'd expected from the most confident member of the Saja Boys—a cocky laugh and a flex of those infamous abs that had earned him his name. Standing in your shared gym-converted-bedroom (because of course Abby had insisted on having workout equipment everywhere), he looked at you like you'd just told him the most ridiculous joke he'd ever heard.
"A sex ban? Really?" He chuckled, running a hand through his magenta-pink hair while doing a casual stretch that made his mint green Hawaiian shirt ride up just enough to show off his perfectly sculpted stomach. "Babe, do you see this?" He gestured to himself with all the confidence of someone who'd built his entire identity around being physically irresistible. "You think you can resist this for two weeks?"
His arrogance was infuriating but also exactly what you'd been counting on. Abby's confidence was his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, and you knew that having his appeal challenged would eat at him in ways he couldn't even comprehend yet.
"Watch me," you replied coolly, turning away from his display with deliberate indifference.
For the first three days, Abby seemed to treat your sex ban like a personal challenge. He'd find excuses to work out shirtless whenever you were around, his perfectly toned body glistening with sweat as he performed increasingly elaborate routines clearly designed to catch your attention. He'd stretch in front of you, his muscles rippling beneath tan skin, shooting you smug looks that said he was certain you'd cave any minute now.
"You know, babe, if you're having trouble keeping your hands to yourself, I totally understand," he'd say with that infuriating smirk, casually flexing while pretending to examine his reflection in the mirror. "I mean, I am pretty irresistible. The other guys are always saying how I'm the visual of the group for a reason."
But when you continued to remain unimpressed, continuing with your daily routine as if his displays meant nothing, something started to shift in his demeanor. The smug confidence began to waver, replaced by something that looked almost like confusion. Abby had built his entire sense of self-worth around his physical appeal, and having someone—especially someone as important to him as you—remain seemingly immune to it was shaking him in ways he didn't know how to handle.
By day five, his workout sessions had become more intense, almost frantic. You'd find him doing push-ups at midnight, his face flushed with exertion and something that might have been desperation. When you asked if he was okay, he'd just grunt and add more weight to whatever he was lifting, as if he could somehow make himself more irresistible through sheer physical perfection.
"Maybe I should switch up my routine," he muttered on day six, examining himself critically in the mirror. "Add more definition to my arms? Or maybe work on my shoulders more?" He turned to you with an expression that was trying to be casual but came across as almost pleading. "What do you think? Is there anything I should... improve?"
The question caught you off guard because it was so unlike Abby. He'd never asked for your opinion on his appearance before—had never needed to, secure as he was in his own appeal. But now there was something vulnerable in his voice, a crack in that perfect confidence that made your heart clench.
The real breaking point came on day eight, and it was heartbreaking in its simplicity. You'd woken up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and found Abby standing in front of the full-length mirror, shirt off, examining himself with a critical eye that you'd never seen before. His usual confident posture was gone, replaced by something that looked almost... insecure.
"Am I losing muscle definition?" he asked when he noticed you watching, and there was genuine worry in his voice. "I feel like maybe I'm not as... I don't know, maybe I'm not as attractive as I used to be?" He turned to face you, and in the dim light, you could see the uncertainty written across his features.
"Abby, what are you talking about?" you asked, genuinely confused. He looked exactly the same as he always had—perfectly sculpted and undeniably attractive.
"It's just... you used to not be able to keep your hands off me," he said quietly, his usual bravado completely absent. "I'd flex, you'd stare. I'd take my shirt off, you'd practically drool. But now..." He gestured helplessly at himself. "Now it's like you don't even see me. Like I'm invisible."
The pain in his voice was devastating because you realized what you'd done. By remaining unmoved by his physical displays, you'd struck at the core of Abby's identity. He'd built his entire sense of self-worth around being desired, around being the visual that everyone couldn't help but stare at. And without that validation, he was lost.
"Maybe I should work out more," he continued, running anxious hands over his already perfect abs. "Maybe if I just get a little more defined, a little more cut, you'll..." He trailed off, looking at you with an expression so hopeful and desperate it broke your heart.
"Baby, wait, no, don't do that to me, babe," he said suddenly, misinterpreting your sympathetic expression as pity. "Don't look at me like that. I know I'm being pathetic, okay? I know it's stupid to base my whole self-worth on how I look, but I... I don't know how else to be." His voice cracked slightly on the admission.
He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his perfect posture finally crumbling. "All my life—well, all my afterlife—I've been the hot one. The one with the perfect body. The one everyone stares at. It's who I am, you know? Take that away and what's left?" He looked up at you with eyes that were bright with unshed tears. "What if there's nothing left?"
The vulnerability in his voice was staggering. Here was Abby, the most confident member of the Saja Boys, revealing that his entire identity was built on something so fragile it could be shattered by one person's indifference.
"I work out constantly because I'm terrified," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Terrified that if I'm not perfect, if I'm not the most attractive, then no one will want me. That you won't want me." He laughed bitterly. "And looks like I was right, wasn't I? The moment you stop being impressed by my body, you don't want me anymore."
"Abby, that's not—" you started, but he cut you off.
"Please," he said, and the word came out broken. "Please, babe, I'll do whatever you want. I'll work out more, I'll eat better, I'll try those new supplements Mystery was talking about. Just... just please want me again. I don't know how to exist without knowing that someone finds me attractive."
He looked up at you then, this incredibly beautiful, perfectly sculpted man, and you saw past the confident exterior to the deeply insecure person underneath. Someone who'd been told their whole worth lay in their appearance and had never learned that they had value beyond their physical perfection.
"I love you," he whispered, and it was the first time he'd ever said it without flexing or posing or doing anything to show off his body. Just sitting there, vulnerable and scared and more beautiful than he'd ever been when he was trying to be perfect. "I love you so much, and I don't know how to show it except through this." He gestured to his body. "If you don't want this anymore, I don't know what else I have to offer you."
The raw honesty in his confession finally shattered your resolve, because you realized you hadn't just been denying him sex—you'd been denying him the only way he knew how to express love and receive validation in return. And in doing so, you'd inadvertently confirmed his deepest fear: that without his perfect body, he was worthless.
Romance:
Romance's reaction to your sex ban was, unsurprisingly, the most dramatically romantic and heartbreaking of all. When you announced your decision while he was sprawled across your shared bed in his signature yellow shirt and heart-adorned jeans, his initial response was to sit up so quickly his pink hair fell charmingly over one eye—an effect that would have been devastating if you hadn't been steel-set in your resolve.
"A sex ban?" he repeated, his voice carrying that soft, melodious quality that had always made your heart flutter. "But darling, we're... we're Romance and his beloved. That's like asking the sun not to shine or flowers not to bloom." He reached for you with those graceful hands, his movements fluid and practiced, but stopped when you stepped back.
The genuine confusion in his pink eyes was almost enough to make you reconsider right then and there, because Romance wasn't built for rejection. Where the other Saja Boys had various coping mechanisms and defense systems, Romance wore his heart on his sleeve—literally, in the form of those pink hearts decorating his jeans. Love and affection were his native language, and you'd just told him you weren't going to speak it for two weeks.
"My darling, surely you don't mean this," he said, rising from the bed with liquid grace. "What we have is too beautiful, too pure, too—"
"Romance," you interrupted firmly. "Two weeks. That's final."
The way his face fell was like watching someone break a piece of art. All that practiced charm and romantic confidence just... crumbled, leaving behind someone who looked lost and genuinely hurt in a way that made your chest ache.
For the first day, Romance seemed to treat your ban like a tragic romantic narrative he needed to fix. He'd appear around corners with single roses (where he got them, you had no idea), his eyes soft and pleading as he'd launch into elaborate speeches about love conquering all obstacles. His flirtation became more desperate, more flowery, as if he could romance you out of your decision through sheer determination and poetry.
"My dearest heart," he'd say, dropping to one knee in the middle of the kitchen while you tried to make breakfast, "surely the love we share is stronger than whatever transgression I've committed? I'll write you songs, compose sonnets, serenade you beneath the stars if that's what it takes to earn your forgiveness."
But when you remained unmoved, continuing to go about your day as if his romantic gestures were invisible, something fundamental started to break inside him. Romance wasn't used to his affections being dismissed—his entire identity was built around being the perfect lover, the one who could make anyone's heart flutter with just a smile and a few well-chosen words.
By day three, his elaborate romantic displays had taken on an edge of desperation. You'd find love notes tucked into every possible place—your coffee cup, your pillowcase, the mirror in the bathroom. Each one was more passionate and pleading than the last, his usually elegant handwriting becoming progressively more frantic as his distress grew.
"My beloved star, my guiding light, my reason for existing," one note read, "please don't let this cruel separation continue. Without your love, I am but a shadow of myself, a rose without sunlight, a song without melody."
The dramatic language would have been endearing if there hadn't been actual tear stains on the paper.
By day five, Romance had stopped eating properly. You'd find him sprawled dramatically across various pieces of furniture, one hand pressed to his forehead in a pose that would have been comedic if the genuine anguish in his expression hadn't been so heartbreaking. He'd taken to wearing all black—a stark contrast to his usual bright, heart-covered outfits—and had begun speaking in tragic whispers about "love lost" and "hearts in exile."
"The other boys think I'm being ridiculous," he confided to you on day six, his voice soft and broken. "Jinu says I'm being too dramatic, Mystery just stares at me, Baby laughed, and Abby told me to 'get a grip.' But they don't understand, darling. They don't understand that you're not just my lover—you're my muse, my inspiration, my entire reason for being."
He was sitting on the floor of your shared walk-in closet, surrounded by all those colorful, heart-covered outfits he usually wore with such confidence. Now they seemed to mock him, too bright and cheerful for his current state of romantic despair.
"I don't know how to be Romance without someone to romance," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "It's like asking a dancer not to dance or a singer not to sing. Love isn't just what I do—it's who I am. And if you don't want that anymore..."
The breaking point came on day eight, and it was devastating in its quiet simplicity. You found him in the garden behind your building at sunset, sitting on a bench surrounded by the roses he'd been leaving for you all week. But instead of his usual dramatic poses, he just looked... empty. Defeated.
"I've been thinking," he said when he noticed you approaching, his voice lacking all of its usual warmth and melody. "Maybe the others are right. Maybe I am too much. Too dramatic, too romantic, too... extra." He laughed, but there was no humor in it—just bitter self-awareness. "Maybe you got tired of all the flowers and poetry and grand gestures."
He picked up one of the roses beside him, twirling it between his fingers with mechanical precision. "I never learned how to love quietly," he admitted. "Never learned how to just... exist without making it into some grand romantic production. But maybe that's what you want? Someone who doesn't constantly need to prove their love with elaborate displays?"
The vulnerability in his voice was heartbreaking because you realized what you'd done to him. Romance wasn't being dramatic for show—he was being dramatic because that's genuinely how he experienced emotion. Love, for him, was naturally grand and elaborate and overwhelming. By rejecting his romantic gestures, you'd essentially told him that his natural way of expressing affection was unwanted.
"I don't know how to be different," he whispered, and when he looked up at you, his pink eyes were swimming with tears. "I don't know how to love you without all the flowers and notes and dramatic speeches. That's just... that's just who I am. But if that's not what you want anymore..."
He stood up slowly, looking more fragile than you'd ever seen him. "Baby, please," he said, and his voice cracked on the endearment. "Please don't make me learn how to unlove you. I know I can be too much, I know my feelings are too big and too loud, but they're real. Everything I feel for you is so real it terrifies me."
Tears were sliding down his cheeks now, and he made no effort to hide them. "You're younger than me, but somehow you've become my whole world. Every song I want to sing, every poem I want to write, every romantic gesture I want to make—it's all for you. Without you to love, I don't know who I'm supposed to be."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like hundreds of unsent love letters, his hands shaking as he held them out to you. "I wrote you one every hour," he admitted. "Because I didn't know what else to do with all this love I have for you. It has to go somewhere, and if you don't want it..." He looked lost, genuinely lost, like someone who'd been told their entire purpose in life was meaningless.
"Please don't do that to me, babe," he whispered, and the desperation in his voice was raw and unfiltered. "Don't make me keep all this love locked up inside. It's killing me. I feel like I'm drowning in feelings I can't express, suffocating on words I can't say, dying from touches I can't give." He pressed the letters against his chest, over his heart. "Please let me love you again. However you want, however you need. Just... please let me love you."
The sight of Romance—beautiful, confident, dramatically romantic Romance—reduced to a broken, pleading figure clutching unsent love letters finally shattered your resolve. Because you realized that by banning physical intimacy, you'd also banned him from expressing love in the only language he knew how to speak fluently. And without that outlet, he was quite literally dying from unrequited affection—affection that was his by right, stolen away as punishment for some slight that now seemed impossibly trivial compared to his suffering.
How would the Saja boys react to their S/O in the middle of making love saying,
"Breed me please!"
🤭
Here you go. (3
Jinu:
As the conflicted leader of the Saja Boys, Jinu oscillates between his demonic ruthlessness and lingering humanity. When you whimper those words, his grip on your hips tightens instinctively, claws pricking your skin just enough to remind you of his true nature. His yellow eyes flare, pupils slitting with predatory focus—this is the Jinu who once schemed to betray Gwi-Ma, now wholly consumed by you. He’d slow his movements, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "You don’t know what you’re asking," he’d growl, voice laced with dark amusement. But the way his hips snap forward betrays his restraint. He’d make it agonizingly slow, murmuring warnings about "consequences" even as he obliges, determined to prove he’s more than just a monster—though the demon in him revels in your desperation.
Abby:
The narcissistic, flamboyant Abby thrives on attention, and your plea would send him into overdrive. He’d pause mid-thrust to flex his abs—just to watch your eyes glaze over—before grinning wickedly. "Say it again, baby. Louder," he’d taunt, rolling his hips in a way that’s more performance than pleasure. But when you whine, he’d flip you onto your back, pinning your wrists. "You want my demon spawn? Gonna have to earn it." His usual arrogance would crack, though, when you arch against him; he’s starved for validation, and your desire unravels him faster than any battle. By the end, he’s babbling praises into your neck, ego thoroughly stroked.
Mystery:
Mystery’s quiet intensity makes his reaction the most unsettling. He wouldn’t speak—just freeze, golden eyes locking onto yours with eerie stillness. Then, without warning, he’d flip you onto your stomach, yanking your hair to expose your throat. His silence is deliberate, forcing you to squirm under his scrutiny. When he finally moves, it’s with calculated precision, each thrust deeper than the last, as if testing how far you’ll break. You’d feel his fangs graze your shoulder, a silent promise. He’s not one for words, but the possessive snarl he lets out when you clench around him says everything: You’re mine.
Romance:
True to his name, Romance would melt. He’d clutch you to his chest, peppering your face with kisses between breathless laughs. "Aw, baby, you’re so cute when you beg," he’d coo, but his usual playful demeanor would darken when you whimper. Suddenly, he’s pressing you into the mattress, voice dropping to a husky whisper: "You sure? Once I start, I won’t stop." His rhythm turns relentless, though he’s careful to keep eye contact, savoring every twitch of your expression. Even as he loses control, he’s murmuring sweet nothings—though the way his claws dig into your thighs hints at something feral beneath the charm.
Baby:
Baby's reaction would be perhaps the most complex and unexpected of all. The member who presents such a youthful, innocent persona would freeze completely at your words, his turquoise eyes widening with an expression that rapidly shifts from surprise to something much darker and more primal.
"Oh, you sweet thing," he'd breathe, his usually higher voice dropping to that surprising deep tone that contradicts his appearance. "You have no idea what you've just unleashed, do you?" The childlike demeanor would evaporate entirely as his true nature surfaces—strategic, powerful, and utterly captivated by your vulnerable request. His small hands would become possessive as they map every inch of your skin, and his usual playful expressions would be replaced by something infinitely more serious and consuming.
Baby would take particular pleasure in the contrast—his youthful appearance dominating someone who's actually closer to his apparent age, while his ancient demon soul claims you with centuries of experience. "You want me to breed you?" he'd ask with a dark smile that transforms his cute features into something beautifully dangerous. "Then you'll take everything I give you, won't you?" His response would be thorough and overwhelming, using every bit of his demonic powers to ensure you never forget who you belong to.
Poly Saja boys x ZhouZhou! FEM! Reader yessss (Featuring S/O's bestie once againnn)
Summary: The Saja boys came to visit China (Since ZhouZhou is Chinese, the reader is also Chinese) where s/o lived in her small hometown when she was younger but... It seems she's famous... Everywhere
Video ✨:
https://youtu.be/XIks0LkhjiU?si=gX82_zIrOAAvis6p
(This one cracked me up 💀)
Haha, here you go love. (3
Ps, Chinese transition may be wrong since I used Google Translate.
Me in the future: Uh... I forgot to add bestie in this fic, sorryyyy. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
Famous in My Hometown
The humid summer air of your small hometown in rural China felt different today. Not because of the weather—no, that was the same sticky heat that had clung to your skin every summer since childhood. It was different because for the first time in months, you were genuinely nervous about coming home.
You clutched your phone tighter as you walked down the familiar dirt road that led to your grandmother's house, the same path you'd skipped down countless times as a child. The irony wasn't lost on you that the very videos you'd filmed on this road, dancing and being your authentic, chaotic self, had somehow blown up internationally. What started as silly content for your friends had morphed into something you never expected—viral fame that had caught the attention of five very special someones.
Your boyfriends. All five of them. The Saja Boys.
When you'd started dating them (individually at first, before realizing you were all somehow drawn to each other in ways that defied conventional explanation), you'd been just another face in the crowd of Seoul. A Chinese exchange student who'd fallen head-over-heels for five demons disguised as the most charming K-pop idols you'd ever met. They knew you made content, sure, but they'd never seen your hometown videos—the ones that had made you accidentally famous across Asia.
"你好! Y/n回来了! (Hello! Y/n is back!)" called out Mrs. Chen from her fruit stand, waving enthusiastically. Her excitement was infectious, and you couldn't help but beam back at her, that same bright energy that had made your videos go viral bubbling up naturally.
You'd barely made it three blocks before you realized the extent of your... situation.
"Y/n! 可以拍个照吗? (Y/n! Can I take a picture?)" A group of teenagers had materialized seemingly from nowhere, phones already out and cameras ready. You blinked in surprise—when had your little hometown gotten so... aware of internet culture?
"当然可以! (Sure!)" you laughed, automatically falling into the bright, energetic persona that had made you famous. You struck a few playful poses with the girls, your natural charisma and humor shining through as you joked with them in rapid Mandarin, making them giggle and squeal with delight.
What you didn't notice was the black van that had been following at a discrete distance, or the five sets of eyes watching you from behind tinted windows with expressions ranging from bewildered to utterly enchanted.
Earlier that day...
"Are you certain this is the correct address, hyung?" Baby had asked, his usual deadpan expression tinged with curiosity as he peered out the window of their rental van. The colorful newsboy cap he wore sat at a jaunty angle, making him look deceptively innocent—a stark contrast to the demon lurking beneath.
Jinu checked his phone for the hundredth time, his dark eyes scanning the GPS coordinates you'd sent. "This is what she gave us. She said to meet her at her grandmother's house." His voice carried that smooth confidence that had charmed millions of fans, but even he seemed uncertain about venturing into rural China.
"I still can't believe our precious little girlfriend has been hiding from us that she's some sort of internet sensation," Romance drawled from the middle seat, his perfectly styled hair catching the sunlight as he dramatically draped himself across the seat. True to his name, everything he did seemed calculated for maximum visual impact, even when it was just the five of them.
Mystery, sitting in his characteristic silence with his purple hair falling across his face in a way that obscured his eyes, simply hummed in acknowledgment. His voice, when he did speak, was soft and melodic: "She never mentioned the... extent of her popularity."
"Extent?" Abby scoffed, his muscular frame taking up considerably more space than necessary as he gestured wildly. "Mystery, she has twelve million followers across platforms. Twelve. Million. And we're just finding out about this now?" Despite his dramatic tone, there was no real anger there—just genuine bewilderment mixed with pride.
The truth was, none of them had realized the scope of your internet fame. You'd always been modest about your content creation, mentioning it in passing as "just some silly videos for fun." You'd shown them a few clips here and there, usually the ones filmed in Seoul, but somehow you'd managed to keep your most viral content—the hometown videos that showcased your authentic, unfiltered personality—hidden from them.
"Look, there she is," Jinu said suddenly, his voice carrying a note of something that might have been awe.
And there you were, practically glowing in the afternoon sunlight as you posed with a group of local teenagers. Your laugh carried even through the closed windows of their van, that bright, infectious sound that had first drawn each of them to you. But this was different from the you they knew in Seoul. This version of you was somehow more vibrant, more animated, completely in your element.
You were speaking rapid-fire Mandarin, your hands gesturing expressively as you made the teenagers laugh. Your natural charisma was on full display—the same energy that had made your videos go viral was now being directed at these local fans, and the Saja Boys could see exactly why millions of people had fallen in love with your content.
"She's... radiant," Romance breathed, and for once his dramatic flair seemed entirely genuine.
"This is why her videos exploded," Mystery observed quietly, his hidden gaze fixed on you. "She's not performing. This is just... her."
Baby let out a low whistle. "No wonder she accidentally became famous. Look at her—she's a natural entertainer."
Abby crossed his arms, but his expression had softened. "We should have known. I mean, how did we think she was just some 'casual content creator' when she moves like that?"
Jinu said nothing, but his dark eyes never left your figure. As demons, they were all naturally drawn to souls that burned brightly, and yours had always been particularly luminous. But seeing you in your hometown, surrounded by people who clearly adored you, he was beginning to understand that they'd only seen a fraction of who you really were.
Back to the present...
You'd finally extracted yourself from the impromptu photo session and were walking toward your grandmother's house when you spotted the familiar van. Your heart did a little flip—they'd actually come. Despite your protests that your hometown was "just a boring little place" and that they "really didn't need to make the trip," they'd insisted on visiting.
You practically bounced on your toes as the van doors opened and five devastatingly handsome figures emerged. Even in casual clothes and sunglasses, they were unmistakably extraordinary. Jinu stepped out first, his tall frame and natural leadership evident in the way he moved. Romance followed, somehow making even the simple act of leaving a vehicle look like a scene from a music video. Mystery emerged silently, his hair still artfully arranged to hide half his face. Abby stretched dramatically, his shirt riding up just enough to flash his famous abs. Baby hopped out last, his youthful appearance at odds with the ancient wisdom in his eyes.
"Hi," you said, suddenly feeling shy despite having been with them for months. There was something about seeing them in your hometown that made everything feel different—more real, somehow.
"Hi yourself," Jinu replied, that familiar warmth in his voice as he approached you. But instead of his usual smooth confidence, there was something almost... reverent in the way he looked at you. "So. Internet celebrity. Were you planning to mention this at some point?"
You felt heat creep up your cheeks. "It's not... I mean, it just sort of happened? I never expected any of my videos to blow up like that."
"Twelve million followers, jagiya," Romance said, his tone somewhere between impressed and accusatory. "That's not 'just sort of happened' territory."
"You've been holding out on us," Baby added, his deadpan delivery somehow making the words sound fond rather than critical.
Before you could formulate a response, a commotion erupted from the direction of the main road. A crowd was forming—word had apparently spread that not only was local internet sensation Y/n home, but she'd brought friends. Very attractive friends.
"Oh no," you muttered, recognizing the building excitement in the voices carrying on the wind.
"What?" Mystery asked, his hidden gaze following yours toward the growing crowd.
"I think..." you swallowed hard, "I think people are starting to recognize all of us. Together."
Abby raised an eyebrow. "And that's a problem because?"
"Because," you said, tugging at Jinu's sleeve and starting to pull him toward your grandmother's house, "when twelve million followers find out that their favorite chaotic internet personality is somehow dating all five members of the hottest boy band in Asia, things are going to get very complicated very quickly."
But it was too late.
"是Y/n! 和... 等等，那些是... (It's Y/n! And... Wait, those are...)" A teenage girl's voice rose above the crowd, and you watched in horror as recognition dawned on face after face.
"Saja Boys!" someone screamed.
"Y/n和Saja Boys在一起! (Y/n and Saja Boys are together!)"
And suddenly, your quiet hometown erupted into chaos.
The crowd surged forward, phones appearing as if by magic, and you found yourself instinctively moving into damage control mode. But instead of panic, you felt a familiar thrill—this was your element, after all. You'd been handling unexpected attention since your videos first went viral.
"大家好! (Hello everyone!)" you called out, your voice carrying that natural performer's projection that had made your content so engaging. The crowd quieted slightly, eager to hear what you had to say. "I know this is exciting, but let's all be respectful, okay? These are my... friends." The pause before 'friends' was probably a dead giveaway, but you forged ahead anyway.
You glanced back at the Saja Boys, expecting to see some level of discomfort or annoyance at the disruption. Instead, you found five pairs of eyes watching you with something that looked suspiciously like adoration.
Jinu stepped forward smoothly, that natural charisma that had made him a perfect demon idol kicking in. "Thank you all for the warm welcome," he said in surprisingly good Mandarin, though his accent was distinctly Korean. "We're happy to be here in Y/n's beautiful hometown."
The crowd practically swooned, and you had to bite back a laugh. Even when they were trying to be low-key, your boyfriends were absolutely incapable of not being devastating.
Romance, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, struck a casual pose that somehow managed to look like a professional photo shoot. "Y/n has told us so much about this place. We've been looking forward to visiting."
"Can we get pictures?" someone called out, and suddenly the requests were coming from every direction.
You looked back at the boys questioningly. This wasn't exactly the quiet hometown visit you'd planned. But Mystery gave an almost imperceptible nod, and Baby actually stepped forward with something that might have been enthusiasm.
"Sure," you said, falling back into your natural content-creator mode. "But let's make it fun! Everyone line up, we'll do a proper group photo session."
What followed was perhaps the most chaotic and delightful hour of your life. You moved through the crowd with practiced ease, your natural energy and humor making everyone feel comfortable and included. The Saja Boys followed your lead, and you watched in amazement as they adapted to your style seamlessly.
Jinu, despite his usual composed demeanor, found himself genuinely laughing at your rapid-fire commentary as you posed with different groups. Mystery, who typically preferred to remain enigmatic, was drawn out by your inclusive energy, even allowing a few photos where his hair was pushed back enough to show both his eyes. Romance was in his absolute element, turning every photo into a miniature work of art while somehow making sure you remained the center of attention. Abby discovered that your local fans were just as enthusiastic about his abs as his international fan base, leading to some hilariously flexed group shots. And Baby, despite his usual deadpan expression, kept getting caught almost-smiling in photos as your infectious laughter got to him.
"你真的很厉害, (you are really awesome,)" an elderly woman told you as the crowd finally began to disperse, patting your cheek affectionately. "These boys, they're good for you. I can see it in how they look at you."
You felt your cheeks warm, but before you could respond, your grandmother's voice cut through the remaining chatter.
"Y/n! 你终于到家了 (You're finally home.)! And you brought the boys!"
You turned to see your tiny, fierce grandmother approaching with a speed that belied her age, her arms already outstretched. Behind her trailed what appeared to be half the neighborhood's elderly population, all clearly eager to get a look at your famous boyfriends.
"奶奶! (grandmother!)" you called out, breaking away from the group to throw yourself into her arms. She was even tinier than you remembered, but her hug was just as strong and warm as always.
"Let me look at you," she said, holding you at arm's length and studying your face with sharp eyes. "Too thin. And tired. These boys better be taking care of you properly."
"Nai Nai," you protested, but she was already turning her attention to the Saja Boys.
What followed was perhaps the most surreal experience of your relationship. Your grandmother, all four feet and eleven inches of her, proceeded to interrogate five supernatural beings disguised as K-pop idols with the thoroughness of a military tribunal.
"You," she pointed at Jinu, who straightened unconsciously under her gaze. "You're the leader?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied respectfully, bowing slightly.
"Good. That means you're responsible for all of them. And for her." She gestured at you. "She's precious cargo, understand?"
Jinu's expression grew serious, and when he spoke, there was something deeper than his usual charm in his voice. "I understand completely. We all do."
She nodded approvingly, then moved on to Romance. "You're very pretty," she said bluntly, causing him to blink in surprise. "But pretty boys are often trouble. Are you trouble?"
Romance, for perhaps the first time in his existence, seemed genuinely flustered. "I... no, ma'am. I mean, I try not to be."
"Hmm." She didn't sound entirely convinced, but she moved on to Abby. "Strong," she observed, poking at his arm with one finger. "Good for carrying groceries. Do you cook?"
"I... some?" Abby replied, clearly unsure if this was a test.
"We'll work on that," she decided, then turned to Mystery. For a long moment, she simply stared at him, and you held your breath. Mystery, for his part, remained perfectly still under her scrutiny.
"Shy one," she finally announced. "That's good. Quiet boys listen better." She reached up and, to everyone's surprise, gently pushed his hair back from his face. "There. Much better. You have kind eyes."
Mystery actually blushed, which you were fairly certain was the first time you'd ever seen him display such an obviously human reaction.
Finally, she reached Baby, who despite being the taller than her somehow managed to look incredibly young under her grandmother's maternal gaze.
"Baby," she said simply, and he nodded. "You're not actually a baby."
"No, ma'am."
"But you're the youngest?"
"In the group, yes."
She nodded as if this confirmed something important. "Good. Every group needs someone to spoil. Come on, all of you. Dinner."
And just like that, you found yourself being herded toward your grandmother's house by a tiny Chinese woman who had somehow managed to adopt five demons without batting an eye.
Dinner was an experience you'd remember for the rest of your life. Your grandmother had apparently decided that feeding five supernatural beings was well within her capabilities and had produced a feast that seemed to materialize from nowhere. The dining table, which you remembered as being quite modest, had somehow been expanded to accommodate everyone, and dish after dish kept appearing from the kitchen.
"Nai Nai, when did you cook all this?" you asked, genuinely bewildered.
"A grandmother always knows when important guests are coming," she replied mysteriously, ladling more rice into Baby's bowl. "Eat. You're too skinny."
The Saja Boys, to their credit, adapted to the family dinner experience with remarkable grace. Jinu complimented your grandmother's cooking with genuine appreciation, Romance helped serve dishes with theatrical flourish that made her laugh, Mystery quietly ate everything put in front of him with obvious enjoyment, Abby asked for seconds of everything, and Baby somehow managed to look even younger as your grandmother fussed over him.
"So," your grandmother said as the meal wound down, "you boys are staying for a while?"
You nearly choked on your tea. "Nai Nai, I'm sure they have to get back to Seoul soon. They have schedules and—"
"We cleared our calendar," Jinu interrupted smoothly. "We wanted to spend time here, get to know the place that made Y/n who she is."
Your heart did something complicated in your chest, and you had to look down to hide the sudden emotion in your eyes.
"Good," your grandmother nodded approvingly. "Tomorrow, Y/n will show you around properly. The market, the temple, the lake where she used to swim. You need to understand her roots if you want to understand her heart."
"Nai Nai," you protested weakly, but she silenced you with a look.
"And you," she pointed at you, "will stop trying to hide who you are from them. These boys fell in love with you, not some version of you. Trust them with all of yourself."
The silence that followed was heavy with meaning, and you found yourself looking around the table at five faces that had become so dear to you. There was something in their expressions—a patience, an acceptance, that made your chest tight with feeling.
"She's right," Mystery said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We fell in love with you. All of you. Including the parts you think you need to hide."
"Even the chaotic internet personality parts?" you asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Especially those," Romance said dramatically, then his voice softened. "Seeing you today, in your element... it was like seeing the sun come out."
"You're so much more vibrant here," Abby added. "Not that you aren't amazing in Seoul, but this... this is you without any filters, isn't it?"
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I was worried you'd think I was too much. The real me, I mean. I'm loud and chaotic and I never know when to stop talking, and my videos are ridiculous, and—"
"And perfect," Jinu interrupted, his voice firm. "You're perfect exactly as you are."
Baby, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly spoke up. "The first video of yours I watched—the one where you tried to teach yourself traditional dance in your dorm room and kept falling over—I must have watched it fifty times. Not because it was funny, but because you were so genuinely yourself. No pretense, no performance, just... you."
You stared at him in shock. "You found my old videos?"
"We all did," Mystery admitted, his usual mysterious air abandoned in favor of sincerity. "After we realized how famous you actually are, we went down a rabbit hole. Hours and hours of content."
"The cooking disaster series was my personal favorite," Romance added with a grin. "Especially the one where you tried to make dumplings and somehow managed to set off the smoke alarm."
"Oh god," you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "You saw the dumpling incident?"
"We saw everything," Abby said gently. "And we fell in love with you all over again. Every video, every moment of authentic chaos, every time you laughed so hard you snorted—"
"I do not snort!"
"You absolutely snort," Jinu said fondly. "And it's adorable."
Your grandmother, who had been watching this entire exchange with obvious satisfaction, stood up and began clearing dishes. "Good. Now that that's settled, tomorrow we start the real tour. Y/n, show them the places that matter. Boys, pay attention. You're getting a masterclass in loving someone properly."
As if summoned by the mention of tomorrow's plans, your phone buzzed insistently. You glanced at it and immediately felt your expression change.
"What is it?" Romance asked, noting your sudden tension.
"Social media notifications," you said weakly. "A lot of them."
You opened your phone and immediately regretted it. Photos from today's impromptu meet-and-greet were everywhere. #Y/nSajaBoys was trending globally. Fan theories were running rampant, ranging from collaborative content plans to full-blown relationship speculation.
"How bad?" Mystery asked.
You scrolled through a few more notifications before setting your phone face-down on the table. "Well, the good news is that everyone thinks you're all incredibly attractive and charming."
"And the bad news?" Baby prompted.
"The internet has definitely figured out that we're more than friends."
The silence that followed was broken by your grandmother's amused chuckle. "Young people today," she said, shaking her head. "In my day, if a girl brought five boys home to meet her family, nobody needed the internet to figure out what was happening."
Despite everything, you found yourself laughing. Here you were, worried about internet speculation, while your grandmother had taken the entire situation in stride without missing a beat.
"So what do we do?" Abby asked.
You looked around the table at five faces you loved more than you'd ever thought possible, then at your grandmother, who was watching you with knowing eyes.
"Tomorrow," you said finally, "we have fun. We do the tourist thing, I show you my favorite places, and we deal with whatever comes next when it comes. Tonight, we're just... us. Here. Together."
"I like that plan," Jinu said softly.
"Me too," Mystery agreed.
Romance raised his water glass in a mock toast. "To tomorrow's adventures and tonight's peace."
"To family," your grandmother added, surprising everyone.
"To family," you all echoed, and for the first time since coming home, you felt completely at peace.
As the evening wound down and sleeping arrangements were discussed (your grandmother had somehow procured enough bedding for everyone, leading to suspicions that she'd been planning this longer than she'd let on), you found yourself on the front porch with all five of your boyfriends, watching the stars emerge in the clear rural sky.
"Thank you," you said quietly, not sure if you were addressing them or the universe in general.
"For what?" Jinu asked, his arm warm around your shoulders.
"For coming here. For seeing all of this," you gestured vaguely at the house, the village, the life you'd grown up in, "and not running away screaming."
"Why would we run?" Romance asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Because it's a lot," you said simply. "The fame thing, the family thing, the 'me being completely different here than in Seoul' thing..."
"You're not different," Mystery said softly. "You're just... more. More yourself, more vibrant, more everything we fell in love with in the first place."
"Plus," Baby added with his characteristic deadpan delivery, "we're literally demons disguised as K-pop idols. I think we can handle dating an internet celebrity."
"Fair point," you conceded, laughing.
Abby pulled you closer to his side. "Besides, have you seen the comment sections on your videos? Your fans love you exactly as you are. And if they love you, they'll learn to love us too."
"And if they don't?" you asked.
"Then they don't," Jinu said simply. "We didn't fall in love with you for your fans' approval. We fell in love with you for you."
As you sat there surrounded by five supernatural beings who had somehow become your entire world, watching the stars appear over the village where you'd grown up, you couldn't help but think that maybe your grandmother was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding parts of yourself and trust that love—real love—could handle all of you.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, more internet speculation, and probably more chaos than any of you were prepared for. But tonight, you were home in every sense of the word, and that was enough.
"I love you," you said quietly, the words meant for all of them.
"We love you too," came the chorus of replies, and for the first time in months, you felt completely and utterly yourself.
The internet could wait. Tonight was for family.
Epilogue: Three months later
The collaborative content series "Y/n's Hometown Adventures with Saja Boys" became the most-watched crossover content in internet history. Your grandmother became an unexpected internet sensation in her own right, with fans dubbing her "Nai Nai Supreme" and begging for her to start her own cooking channel.
But more importantly, you learned that love—the real kind—doesn't ask you to be less than you are. It asks you to be more.
And with five demons disguised as the world's most attractive K-pop idols by your side, being more was the easiest thing in the world.
Oh can I request poly saja boys with a were snow leopard reader she love snuggling with Derpy and for no reason she just randomly has her tail in her mouth out of habit
Ofc!! Here you go love. (3
Fun Fact: Snow Leopards are one of my favourite animals. ^^
Snow and Shadows | Poly! Saja Boys x Were-Snow Leopard! Reader
The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Saja Boys' shared apartment, casting long shadows across the modern living space. You were curled up on the oversized sectional couch, your fluffy Derpy plushie tucked securely against your chest while your snow leopard tail had found its way into your mouth again—a habit you'd developed long ago that the boys had come to find both endearing and uniquely you.
Your were-snow leopard nature meant you were naturally more solitary by instinct, but something about these five demons disguised as idols had drawn you in completely. The polyamorous relationship you'd developed with all of them was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, each member bringing something different to your unusual family dynamic.
"There she is again," Romance said with his characteristic heart-shaped smile, settling down beside you on the couch. His voice carried that signature flirtatious tone that had initially made your heart race, though now it simply felt like home. "Our little snow kitten with her tail in her mouth."
You pulled your tail out quickly, a light blush dusting your cheeks as your leopard ears flicked back slightly in embarrassment. "It's just a habit," you mumbled, clutching your Derpy plushie tighter. The cross-eyed pegasus had been with you long before you'd met the boys, and they'd learned not to question your attachment to it.
Jinu emerged from the kitchen, his dark hair slightly tousled and his expression softening the moment he saw you. Despite his role as the group's leader and his sometimes manipulative tendencies with others, he'd always been surprisingly gentle with you. Perhaps it was because he understood what it meant to hide parts of yourself—though his reasons were far more complex than you simply being a were-snow leopard.
"You look comfortable," he observed, moving to sit on your other side. His presence immediately made you feel safer, the way an alpha's presence might soothe a nervous pack member. "How was your day while we were at practice?"
"Quiet," you replied, which was exactly how you preferred it. Snow leopards were solitary creatures by nature, and even though you loved all five boys desperately, you still needed your alone time. "I watched some documentaries about snow leopards in the wild. Did you know they can leap almost six times their body length?"
"Can you do that?" Baby asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere with his characteristic unpredictable energy. Despite being the youngest member and his deceptively innocent name, there was always something slightly unhinged about Baby that both fascinated and occasionally startled you. His rapid-fire speaking pattern and unsettling grins had initially made you wary, but you'd learned to appreciate his chaotic nature.
"I... haven't really tried," you admitted, unconsciously bringing your tail toward your mouth again before catching yourself. "I mean, I have enhanced agility and strength, but I've never tested the limits."
Abby (or Abs as the fans called him) finally looked up from where he'd been doing push-ups in the corner of the room—because of course he was. The muscular demon rarely spoke, but his presence was always commanding. When he did speak, his deep voice carried an authority that made everyone listen.
"You should be careful," he said simply, toweling off the sweat from his workout. "Testing limits can be dangerous without proper preparation."
Mystery drifted into the room like a shadow, his long violet hair obscuring most of his face as always. He settled into the armchair across from the couch, and even though you couldn't see his expression clearly, you could feel his attention on you. Mystery rarely spoke, but somehow his presence always felt protective rather than mysterious—at least to you.
"I brought you something," Jinu said suddenly, producing a small wrapped package from his pocket. "I saw it at the pet store and thought you might like it."
You carefully set Derpy aside to unwrap the gift, your snow leopard curiosity getting the better of you. Inside was a small, plush snow leopard key chain with incredibly soft fur and detailed markings. Your eyes widened with delight.
"It's perfect," you whispered, immediately clipping it to Derpy's saddle. "Now she has a friend."
Romance chuckled, his heart-shaped bangs catching the light. "Only you would give your plushie a companion instead of keeping it for yourself."
"Derpy gets lonely sometimes," you said matter-of-factly, as if this was perfectly logical. Your tail found its way back into your mouth as you snuggled both plushies against your chest.
The boys exchanged glances—the kind of silent communication they'd perfected during their time together. Despite their demonic nature and their original mission to steal souls and serve Gwi-Ma, they'd found something in you that had gradually changed them. You were younger than them, innocent in ways they'd long forgotten, and your were-snow leopard nature meant you approached the world differently than humans did.
"We have something we need to tell you," Jinu said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "About what we really are."
Your tail fell from your mouth as you looked up at him with curious (e/c) eyes—eyes that held flecks of the same wild nature as your leopard form. "I already know you're demons," you said simply.
The silence that followed was deafening. Baby stopped fidgeting, Abby froze mid-stretch, Romance's flirtatious smile faltered, and even Mystery seemed to tense.
"You... know?" Jinu asked carefully.
"Of course I know," you said, absently stroking Derpy's mane. "My senses are much sharper than humans'. I could smell the otherworldly scent on you from the beginning, and your energy signatures are completely different from humans. Plus, some of your behaviors don't quite match human patterns."
"And you're... okay with that?" Romance asked, sounding genuinely vulnerable for the first time since you'd known him.
You tilted your head, considering the question. "You've never tried to harm me. You've been nothing but kind and protective. Jinu brings me gifts, Romance makes me laugh, Abby makes me feel safe, Baby keeps life interesting, and Mystery..." you looked toward the violet-haired demon, "Mystery makes me feel understood without needing words. Why would what species you are matter more than how you treat me?"
Baby let out a slightly unhinged giggle. "She's more accepting than most humans would be of their own kind," he pointed out with his characteristic chaos.
"That's because I'm not human either," you said pragmatically. "Were-creatures understand what it's like to be different, to have to hide parts of yourself from the world."
Abby moved to sit on the floor in front of the couch, looking up at you with something like wonder in his usually stoic expression. "You never feared us?"
"Should I have?" you asked, your tail unconsciously curling around Romance's wrist where it rested near your leg. "You make me feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my life. Most people don't know how to handle someone who needs as much alone time as I do, or who has habits they consider 'weird.'" You gestured to your tail, which had somehow found its way back into your mouth.
"Your habits aren't weird," Mystery said quietly, his voice barely audible from behind his hair. "They're endearing."
The simple statement from the usually silent demon made your heart flutter. You'd always been self-conscious about your more animal-like tendencies, but the Saja Boys had never made you feel like you needed to hide them.
"So what happens now?" Jinu asked. "Now that you know the truth about us?"
"Now?" you said, settling back into the couch cushions with your plushies. "Now you tell me about your favorite parts of the demon world, and I'll tell you about what it's like to shift between forms. And then maybe we can order some food and watch a movie, because I've been craving Korean fried chicken all day."
Romance laughed, the sound genuine and warm. "You're remarkably adaptable for someone who's supposed to be solitary by nature."
"Snow leopards are solitary," you corrected, "but they do come together during mating season and for raising young. Besides," you added with a slight smile, "I think I found my pride."
Baby clapped his hands together with manic glee. "A snow leopard in a lion's pride! That's poetic and chaotic—I love it!"
Abby reached out to gently touch your ankle, his large hand warm and reassuring. "We're not going anywhere," he said simply. "If you can accept what we are, then we're yours for as long as you want us."
"Forever, then," you said without hesitation, your tail wrapping around his wrist now too. "Because were-snow leopards mate for life, unlike our animal counterparts, and I've already chosen my pack."
Jinu leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, careful not to disturb your ears. "Forever it is."
As the evening settled around you and the boys began planning your requested dinner and movie night, you felt a contentment you'd never experienced before. Here, surrounded by demons who loved you exactly as you were—tail-chewing habit, Derpy obsession, need for solitude and all—you finally understood what it meant to truly belong.
Mystery caught your eye from across the room and gave you the slightest nod, as if he could sense your thoughts. Romance was already pulling up food delivery apps on his phone while chattering about movie options. Baby was bouncing excitedly between different streaming services. Abby remained close to your feet, a solid, reassuring presence. And Jinu was watching all of you with an expression of something like peace.
You pulled Derpy and her new snow leopard friend closer to your chest and let your tail find its familiar place in your mouth. For the first time in your life, you didn't feel the need to hide or apologize for any part of yourself.
This was home. This was family. This was love—complicated, unconventional, and absolutely perfect.
hiiii I love you work and was wondering if you could write a saja boy fic where reader almost dies? I need some angst lol
Here you go, I tried to make it touchy to the heart, hopefully I succeeded. (3
Jinu:
The sterile hospital lights flickered overhead as Jinu materialized in the hallway, his usual composed demeanor cracking like a shattered mirror. His hands trembled as he pressed them against the cold wall, the demon markings on his skin pulsing with an anguished purple light that he couldn't suppress. You were in there, fighting for your life, and it was his fault.
He had tried to protect you from Gwi-Ma's wrath when the demon king discovered your relationship. But his defiance had come at a cost—Gwi-Ma had targeted you specifically, sending shadow demons after you as punishment for Jinu's growing humanity. The attack had been brutal, meant to break him completely. Now you lay unconscious behind those hospital doors, your mortal body battered and broken, teetering on the edge between life and death.
"Four hundred years," he whispered to himself, his voice raw with emotion. "Four hundred years of existing, and I've never felt pain like this." The irony wasn't lost on him—he who had abandoned his own family, who had caused countless deaths in service to Gwi-Ma, was now facing the possibility of losing the one person who had shown him what redemption could feel like.
Jinu slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold linoleum floor. His perfect idol facade was completely gone now, replaced by the broken man he truly was underneath. Tears he didn't even know he could still shed traced down his cheeks as he remembered your last conversation. You had been so excited about the future, talking about all the places you wanted to visit together once he found a way to break free from Gwi-Ma's control. Your eyes had sparkled with hope, with love for him despite knowing what he was.
The demon patterns on his arms began to burn, Gwi-Ma's voice echoing in his mind: "This is what happens when you forget your place, Jinu. Mortals are fragile. They break so easily." But instead of cowering as he once would have, Jinu felt something else rising within him—a rage purer than anything he'd experienced in centuries. If you died, he would make Gwi-Ma pay. He would tear apart every demon in the underworld if it meant avenging you.
A doctor emerged from your room, and Jinu was instantly on his feet, his supernatural speed carrying him across the hallway before the man could blink. "How is she?" The question came out more desperate than he intended, his carefully maintained human guise slipping as his eyes flickered between brown and that otherworldly gold of his demon form.
The doctor, startled by Jinu's sudden appearance, steadied himself against the door frame. "Are you family?"
"I'm..." Jinu paused, the weight of that question hitting him harder than any physical blow. What was he to you? Your demon boyfriend? The monster who had brought danger into your life? "I'm someone who loves her more than his own existence." The honesty in his voice seemed to convince the doctor, who sighed heavily.
"She's stable for now, but the next few hours are critical. She lost a lot of blood, and there's internal damage we're still assessing. She's strong though—stronger than most people would be after what she endured."
As the doctor walked away, Jinu pressed his forehead against the small window in your door. Inside, you looked so small and fragile surrounded by machines, your skin pale against the white sheets. The sight of you like this shattered something fundamental inside him. For the first time since making his deal with Gwi-Ma, Jinu found himself praying—not to any demon lord, but to whatever benevolent forces might still listen to a creature like him.
"I should have been stronger," he whispered against the glass. "I should have protected you better. You're the only good thing that's ever happened to me in four centuries, and I almost lost you because of my cowardice." He closed his eyes, making a silent vow. If you survived this, he would find a way to break free from Gwi-Ma completely. He would become worthy of the love you had shown him, even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process.
Mystery:
Mystery stood in the shadows of the hospital parking garage, his distinctive hair falling across his face like a violet curtain, hiding the anguish that twisted his features. Unlike his band mates, he had always been the quiet observer, the one who communicated through subtle gestures and carefully chosen words. But seeing you wheeled into the emergency room, broken and bleeding because of your association with the Saja Boys, had shattered his usual composure entirely.
His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, claws threatening to extend as the demon markings beneath his skin writhed with barely contained emotion. The other members didn't know—couldn't know—how deeply he had grown to care for you. While they saw his interactions with you as mere politeness, the shy member keeping his distance, the truth was far more complicated. Every stolen glance, every moment when you had tried to coax him out of his shell, had chipped away at the walls he'd built around whatever remained of his soul.
You had been so patient with him. While others were drawn to Jinu's charisma or Romance's flirtations, you had taken the time to notice Mystery. You never pushed him to reveal his face or demanded more than he was comfortable giving. Instead, you had learned to read his body language, to understand the subtle ways he expressed himself. You had made him feel seen in a way that no one had in the centuries since his transformation.
The memory that tormented him most was from just a week ago. You had been sitting with the group during a break in their schedule, and somehow the conversation had turned to favorite memories. When it was Mystery's turn, he had remained silent as usual, but you had gently said, "Mystery doesn't need to speak to share something beautiful with us. Sometimes the most profound things are felt rather than heard." Your understanding had moved him so deeply that he had almost revealed his face to you right then and there.
Now you might never wake up to offer him that gentle understanding again.
Mystery pulled out his phone with trembling fingers, staring at the string of unanswered texts he had sent you before the attack. Simple messages that had seemed so inadequate then and felt like precious artifacts now: "Hope your day is going well." "Saw a cat that reminded me of your laugh." "Thank you for being patient with me." He had been working up the courage to tell you how he felt, to show you the face he kept hidden from the world. But demons like Gwi-Ma had found you first.
His phone buzzed with a message from Jinu: "No change yet. Doctors won't tell us anything more." Mystery's grip tightened on the device until the screen cracked. The violence of his reaction surprised him—he had always been the most controlled of the group, the one who observed rather than acted. But the thought of losing you had awakened something feral within him.
Moving deeper into the shadows, Mystery allowed his human disguise to slip slightly. The demon markings spread across his visible skin like dark lightning, and his breathing became more labored as the reality of the situation hit him fully. He had spent so long hiding behind his hair, behind his silence, telling himself it was to protect others from seeing the monster he had become. But the truth was, he had been protecting himself from the vulnerability of being truly known.
You had tried to know him anyway.
There was a particular moment that played on repeat in his mind. You had been walking together after a recording session, and it had started to rain. Without thinking, he had moved to shield you with his jacket, and for just an instant, the wind had blown his hair back. You had seen more of his face than anyone had in years, and instead of recoiling or demanding explanations, you had simply smiled and said, "You have kind eyes, Mystery. I hope someday you trust me enough to let me see them clearly."
He had been so close to trusting you with everything. His real name from before the transformation, the story of how he had become a demon, the face he kept hidden beneath the violet strands. But he had been too afraid, too convinced that you would reject him if you knew the full truth. Now that fear seemed so trivial compared to the terror of losing you forever.
Mystery sank to his knees in the empty parking garage, his usually perfect posture crumbling. For the first time in decades, he spoke aloud in the empty space, his voice rough from disuse: "Please don't leave me. I was finally ready to let you see me—all of me. I was going to tell you everything tomorrow." His voice broke on the last word, the sound echoing off the concrete walls like a prayer offered to an indifferent universe.
The worst part was knowing that if you died, he would retreat even further into himself. He would pull the curtain of his hair even tighter, speak even less, become even more of a shadow than he already was. Because you had been the light that was slowly drawing him back toward something resembling humanity, and without that light, he would disappear completely into the darkness he had inhabited for so long.
Abby:
Abby paced the hospital waiting room like a caged predator, his usual confident swagger replaced by barely contained violence. Every muscle in his considerably built frame was coiled tight with tension, and the other people in the waiting area gave him a wide berth, sensing the dangerous energy radiating from him even without knowing his true nature. His hands kept clenching into fists, and he had to constantly remind himself that he was in a public place where he couldn't afford to lose control.
The strong, silent type—that's how everyone saw him. The member of Saja Boys who communicated more through his imposing presence than words, who protected the group through sheer intimidation when necessary. But what they didn't understand was that his strength had always been directed outward, used to shield those he cared about. And he had failed to protect you.
He had been with you when it happened. You had insisted on walking back to your apartment alone after your date, despite his protests. "I'm not some delicate flower, Abby," you had laughed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Besides, you've got that early morning schedule tomorrow. You need your rest." Your independence was one of the things he loved most about you—the way you refused to be intimidated by his size or his sometimes overwhelming presence. You treated him like he was just a man who happened to be taller and broader than average, not a demon with supernatural strength.
He should have insisted. Should have followed you anyway, keeping watch from a distance. Should have trusted the instincts that told him something felt off about the shadows that night. Instead, he had let you convince him, and twenty minutes later, his phone had been buzzing with your number. When he answered, all he heard was your scream before the line went dead.
The memories of finding you were burned into his mind with perfect, torturous clarity. You had been crumpled in an alley three blocks from your building, surrounded by the dissipating essence of shadow demons. Your clothes were torn, your body broken, but your eyes—your eyes had still held that fierce spark he loved even as they struggled to focus on his face. "Abby," you had whispered, your voice barely audible. "I fought them. I fought them like you taught me." Then you had lost consciousness, and he had carried you to the hospital at supernatural speed, not caring who might see him moving faster than any human should be able to.
Now, hours later, that image of your broken body was all he could see every time he closed his eyes. His phone buzzed with a text from Baby Saja: "Any word yet?" but Abby ignored it. He couldn't handle the concern from his band mates right now, couldn't pretend to be the strong one holding everyone together when he was barely keeping himself from tearing the hospital apart brick by brick until someone gave him answers.
A young nurse approached him cautiously, clipboard in hand. "Excuse me, sir? We need some information about the patient you brought in. Are you able to—"
"I'm her boyfriend," Abby cut her off, his voice rougher than he intended. The word felt both inadequate and precious on his tongue. You were so much more than that simple label could convey, but it was the closest human language could come to describing what you meant to him.
The nurse nodded, apparently unfazed by his intimidating presence. "The doctors are doing everything they can. She's in surgery right now to repair internal damage from the attack. Can you tell me what happened? The injuries are... unusual."
Abby's jaw tightened. "She was mugged. Multiple attackers." The lie came easily—he had perfected the art of crafting believable cover stories during his centuries as a demon. But each word felt like acid in his mouth, another way he was failing you by not being able to tell the truth about the supernatural forces that had hurt you.
After the nurse left, Abby slumped into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, his large frame making the furniture creak ominously. He pulled out his phone and scrolled back through your text conversation from earlier that day. Your messages were full of excitement about a new job opportunity, plans for the weekend, little observations about your day that you shared because you knew he liked hearing about your human world. The normalcy of it all felt surreal now.
"Saw a dog today that looked exactly like you when you're grumpy in the mornings 😂"
"That's physically impossible," he had replied.
"You're right, the dog was cuter."
"I'm telling Romance you said that."
"Please don't, he'll never let me live it down. Love you, you big intimidating teddy bear ❤️"
The heart emoji blurred as tears he didn't know he was capable of shedding filled his eyes. You were the only person who had ever called him a teddy bear and lived to tell about it. More than that, you were the only person who had ever made him want to be gentle. His strength, which had always been a tool for violence and intimidation, became something protective and careful when he was with you. You had taught him that power could be used to shelter rather than destroy.
A doctor in surgical scrubs emerged from the operating room, and Abby was on his feet instantly, crossing the room in three long strides. "How is she?"
The surgeon looked tired but not defeated, which Abby took as a good sign. "She's stable. The surgery went well, but she's not out of the woods yet. The next twenty-four hours will be critical. She's strong though—we were surprised by her resilience. Not many people could have survived what she endured."
That's because she's extraordinary, Abby thought but didn't say. Instead, he asked, "Can I see her?"
"She's in recovery now. You can sit with her, but she likely won't wake up for several hours."
As Abby followed the doctor through the sterile corridors, he made a silent promise. He would never let his guard down again. He would become the shield you deserved, even if it meant revealing his true nature to protect you properly. Because losing you wasn't an option he was prepared to accept, and anyone who tried to hurt you again would discover just how dangerous a protective demon could be.
Romance:
Romance had always been the master of performance, able to slip on whatever emotional mask the situation required with practiced ease. Charming interviews, flirtatious fan meetings, heart-fluttering stage performances—he could manufacture any feeling that would capture hearts and minds. But sitting in the hospital chapel at three in the morning, staring at his hands clasped in his lap, he couldn't summon even the smallest trace of his usual charismatic facade.
The heart-shaped bangs that were his signature style fell messily across his forehead, no longer perfectly styled. His clothes were rumpled from hours of pacing and sitting in uncomfortable chairs. For perhaps the first time since his transformation into a demon, Romance looked exactly like what he was: a scared man who might lose the person he loved most in the world.
You had seen through his performance from the very beginning. That's what had drawn him to you initially—the way you would roll your eyes at his more obvious attempts at charm, how you would laugh at his practiced lines and say things like, "Okay, but who are you really underneath all that?" Most people were content to be dazzled by the surface, to fall for the carefully crafted persona that was designed to make them feel special. But you had been genuinely uninterested in the show, more fascinated by the glimpses of authenticity you could catch when his guard was down.
It had been terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. For decades, Romance had been so committed to his role that he sometimes forgot where the performance ended and his real self began. But you had a way of cutting through the artifice with surgical precision, asking questions that forced him to examine who he actually was beneath all the practiced gestures and memorized responses.
"Why do you do that thing with your voice when you're nervous?" you had asked him once after a particularly stressful recording session. "It gets softer, more genuine. I like it better than your stage voice."
He had been so startled by the observation that he had dropped the flirtatious mask entirely, responding with unfiltered honesty: "No one's ever noticed that before." And you had smiled in a way that made his chest tight, replying, "I notice everything about you, Romance. The real things, not just the performance."
Now that voice might be silenced forever, and Romance felt like he was drowning in regret. He had been so afraid of letting you see too much of his true self—the insecure, damaged creature hiding beneath all the charm. He had convinced himself that you fell for the performance like everyone else, that if he revealed too much authenticity, you would lose interest. So he had continued to maintain some distance, doling out genuine moments sparingly while keeping the larger part of himself carefully hidden.
What a waste. What a stupid, cowardly waste of the time you had together.
Romance pulled out his phone and opened your chat, scrolling back through months of messages. The evolution of your relationship was documented there in painful detail—the way his texts had gradually become less performative and more real as you consistently rewarded his honesty with affection and understanding. Your patience with his emotional walls had been extraordinary, and he could see now how hard you had worked to earn his trust.
"You don't have to be 'on' all the time with me," you had texted him just last week. "I like the person you are when you think no one is watching."
He had replied with a heart emoji instead of words, too overwhelmed by the depth of your acceptance to articulate a proper response. Now he wished desperately that he had been braver, that he had told you everything you meant to him while he still had the chance.
The chapel was empty except for him, which was probably for the best. Romance had never been religious in his human life, and centuries of serving Gwi-Ma had only reinforced his skepticism about benevolent higher powers. But sitting here in the quiet, surrounded by symbols of hope and redemption, he found himself whispering words that felt like prayers.
"I know I'm probably the last creature who should be asking for favors," he said to the empty room, his voice barely audible. "I've done things... terrible things. I've manipulated people, stolen from them, helped destroy lives. But she's innocent. She doesn't deserve to pay for my sins." His voice broke slightly. "If someone has to die tonight, let it be me instead. She has so much life left to live, so much good left to do in the world."
The silence that followed felt heavy with possibility and dread in equal measure. Romance closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world without your laughter, without your terrible jokes, without the way you hummed off-key while cooking breakfast in his kitchen. The emptiness that stretched out in front of him was so vast and colorless that he physically recoiled from the thought.
You had been teaching him how to be real. Slowly, patiently, you had been showing him that authenticity was more powerful than any performance, that being genuinely known by one person was worth more than being superficially adored by thousands. Under your influence, he had started to remember who he used to be before the demon transformation, before the endless cycle of manipulation and emotional parasitism that had defined his existence for so long.
A nurse peeked into the chapel, spotting him in the back pew. "Are you here for the patient from the attack? She's stable now if you'd like to sit with her."
Romance was on his feet instantly, following the nurse through the hospital corridors with quick, anxious steps. When he saw you through the glass window of your room—small and pale against the white sheets, but breathing steadily—he felt something inside his chest crack open with relief.
"I'm going to do better," he whispered against the glass, pressing his palm flat against the window. "When you wake up, I'm going to be real with you about everything. No more hiding, no more performances. You deserve the truth, and I should have been brave enough to give it to you a long time ago." He took a shaky breath. "Just please wake up so I can have the chance to try again."
Baby:
Baby had always been chaos wrapped in a deceptively youthful package, the kind of unpredictable energy that could shift from playful to dangerous in the span of a heartbeat. As the youngest member of Saja Boys, he cultivated an image of mischievous innocence that masked the very real darkness lurking beneath his boyish features. But standing outside your hospital room at four in the morning, that carefully maintained facade had completely shattered, leaving behind something raw and desperate that he didn't quite know how to handle.
His usual confident swagger was gone, replaced by an anxious fidgeting that had him pacing the hallway in tight circles. Every few minutes, he would approach your door like he was going to enter, only to lose his nerve and retreat again. The other members didn't understand—couldn't understand—the unique nature of his relationship with you. They saw his interactions with you as typical of his chaotic personality, assuming his clinginess was just another expression of his generally unpredictable behavior.
But you were different. You were the first person who had ever made him feel genuinely young rather than just performing youth. Despite being younger than him, you had a way of bringing out something almost innocent in him, something that remembered what it felt like to be truly carefree rather than just reckless. With you, his chaos became playfulness instead of destruction, his unpredictability became spontaneity rather than malice.
The memory that tormented him most was from your last date together. You had dragged him to a late-night arcade, insisting that he needed to experience "proper" fun instead of the manufactured entertainment that filled most of his demon existence. He had been skeptical at first—he was centuries old, after all, even if he appeared to be the youngest member of the group. What could some human games possibly offer him?
But watching your face light up as you beat him at skee-ball for the third time in a row, listening to your genuine laughter when he got overly competitive about a claw machine, he had felt something he hadn't experienced in decades: pure, uncomplicated joy. Not the twisted pleasure he derived from chaos or manipulation, but simple happiness that asked nothing of him except that he be present in the moment.
"You're different when you're actually having fun," you had observed, leaning against him as you shared cotton candy that was too sweet and too blue to be natural. "Less... intense. More like the kid you probably were before..." You had trailed off, not wanting to push into territory he wasn't ready to share, but he had understood what you meant.
Before he became a monster. Before Gwi-Ma's influence twisted his youthful energy into something darker and more dangerous.
Now, as Baby pressed his forehead against the cool glass of your hospital room window, he couldn't stop thinking about how he should have told you the truth then. Should have explained that he wasn't actually young, that the childlike joy you brought out in him was a miracle he hadn't thought possible anymore. You had been slowly healing parts of him that he had assumed were permanently broken, and he had been too scared to acknowledge how desperately he needed that healing to continue.
His phone buzzed with messages from the other members—updates, questions, expressions of concern—but Baby ignored them all. He couldn't handle their sympathy right now, couldn't pretend to be okay when the most important person in his world was fighting for her life just a few feet away. Instead, he slumped down on the floor outside your room, pulling his knees up to his chest in a pose that made him look every bit the child he appeared to be.
You had never treated him like a child, though. That was another thing that set you apart from everyone else. Despite his apparent age, you had always spoken to him as an equal, never patronizing or dismissive. You had seemed to sense that there was more to him than met the eye, that his youthful appearance was just another layer of the complex persona he wore to navigate the world.
"Why do you hide behind all that chaos?" you had asked him once, during one of your quieter moments together. You had been lying on his couch, your head in his lap while he absently played with your hair—one of the few times he was ever still for more than a few seconds.
"Who says I'm hiding?" he had replied, but without his usual deflective energy. Something about the softness of the moment had made it impossible to maintain his typical manic facade.
"Because I see who you are underneath it all," you had said simply. "You're not really chaotic. You're just... hurt. And you think if you keep moving fast enough, keep everyone distracted enough, no one will notice."
The accuracy of your observation had terrified him then, and it broke his heart now. You had seen through all his defenses so easily, recognized the pain he carried beneath his manic energy. And instead of being frightened by that darkness, you had been gentle with it, patient with his inability to articulate the centuries of damage that had shaped him.
Baby pulled out his phone with shaking fingers and opened your last text conversation. Your messages were full of the kind of random observations and silly memes that you knew would make him smile. But the last message in the thread was from him, sent just hours before the attack: "Can we go back to that arcade tomorrow? I want to beat your high score on the racing game."
You had replied with a string of laughing emojis and: "You're on, but I'm warning you, I've been practicing. Prepare to lose gracefully."
"Never," he had texted back, adding a series of competitive emojis that had made you call him immediately just to laugh at his dramatics.
That call seemed like it had happened in another lifetime now. Baby closed his eyes and tried to remember the sound of your laughter, the way you had teased him about being a sore loser even as you promised to let him win at least one game if he asked nicely. You had been so alive, so vibrantly, impossibly alive, and the thought that he might never hear that laughter again was destroying him in ways he didn't know how to process.
A doctor approached, and Baby scrambled to his feet, suddenly looking every bit the anxious young man he appeared to be rather than the ancient demon he actually was. "How is she? Can I see her now?"
The doctor's expression was cautiously optimistic. "She's stable. We'll know more in the next few hours, but her vital signs are good. You can sit with her if you'd like, but she may not wake up for a while."
Baby nodded eagerly, following the doctor into your room on unsteady legs. Seeing you surrounded by machines, looking so fragile and small, nearly brought him to his knees. But you were breathing on your own, and that was enough to kindle a spark of hope in his chest.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about what I am," he whispered, taking your hand carefully in both of his. "I'm sorry I let you think I was just some chaotic kid instead of explaining that you were teaching me how to be human again. When you wake up—and you're going to wake up—I'm going to be honest about everything. About how old I really am, about what I've done, about how much you mean to me." His voice broke. "Just please don't leave me. I finally found someone who makes me want to be better, and I'm not ready to lose that yet."
Heya love your writing. If it's possible could I request a saja boys x dragon reader? There humanoid dragon form looks like sylus' myth card from love and deep space? Apologies if this is confusing.
It's really okay x, the only thing I didn't know is if you wanted a separate reaction or poly so I just did a separate reaction. :)
Saja Boys x Dragon Reader
Jinu:
The private rehearsal studio fell silent as Jinu dismissed the other Saja Boys with a subtle gesture. Four hundred years of existence had taught him to recognize power when he saw it, and you—standing defiantly in the corner with your arms crossed—radiated something entirely different from the human souls he was accustomed to manipulating. Your silver hair caught the studio's harsh lighting like liquid mercury, and those distinctive horns curved gracefully from your temple, marking you as something far more dangerous than the typical idol trainee.
"You can drop the act," Jinu said quietly, his charming stage persona melting away to reveal the calculating demon beneath. His dark eyes studied the way your scaled armor caught and reflected the light, how your claws tapped an impatient rhythm against your bicep. "The others bought your story about being a foreign exchange student, but I know what you really are."
You tilted your head, a gesture that might have seemed innocent if not for the predatory gleam in your ancient eyes. "And what exactly do you think I am, Jinu-ssi?" The way you pronounced his name held just enough mockery to make his jaw tighten.
He stepped closer, and you caught the faint scent of smoke and old incense that clung to his human disguise—remnants of the traditional Korean underworld he'd crawled out of centuries ago. "Dragon," he said simply, watching as your nostrils flared slightly in acknowledgment. "The question is what you're doing here, infiltrating our group."
The laugh that escaped your lips was like distant thunder. "Infiltrating? How presumptuous." You uncrossed your arms, letting him see the full effect of your humanoid form—the way the dark scales formed intricate patterns across your skin, how the crimson gemstones embedded in your armor pulsed with each heartbeat. "I'm here because someone needs to keep an eye on you demons. Your... activities... have been noticed by those who matter."
Jinu's expression grew guarded. Throughout his long existence, first as a human who betrayed his family for power, then as a demon serving Gwi-Ma, he'd learned to read between the lines. But you were different—younger than him in years, yet carrying yourself with the confidence of something that had never known true weakness. It unsettled him in ways he couldn't quite articulate.
"The Elders sent you." It wasn't a question. He'd heard whispers of the ancient dragons who watched over the balance between worlds, though he'd never expected to encounter one face to face.
You moved with fluid grace, circling him slowly. Each step was calculated, predatory, and Jinu found himself tracking your movement with the wariness of prey recognizing a superior hunter. "They're concerned about your little boy band project," you continued conversationally. "Stealing souls through manufactured idol worship? It's... creative. I'll give you that."
"Creative enough to work," Jinu replied, though something in your presence made his usual confidence waver. You were beautiful in the way natural disasters were beautiful—terrible and magnificent and utterly beyond his control.
"Is it though?" You stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could see the way your scales shimmered with their own inner light. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're having second thoughts about your grand plan."
The accusation hit too close to home. Jinu's jaw worked silently as he processed your words, the uncomfortable truth they contained. His recent interactions with Rumi had been... complicated. The girl's half-demon heritage stirred something in him he'd thought Gwi-Ma had burned out of his soul centuries ago.
"You don't know anything about me," he said finally, but his voice lacked its usual conviction.
Your smile was sharp as your claws. "Don't I? Four hundred years old, turned demon after betraying your family for power, now serving under Gwi-Ma while slowly remembering what it felt like to be human." You leaned closer, and he caught the scent of ozone and ancient magic that clung to your skin. "The question is: what are you going to do about it?"
For a moment, Jinu forgot how to breathe. You were too close, too knowing, too everything. The crimson gems in your armor pulsed like a heartbeat, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to trace the patterns of your scales with his fingertips.
"Why should you care what I do?" he asked, his voice rougher than intended.
"Because," you said softly, reaching out to trace one claw along his jawline with surprising gentleness, "even demons deserve a chance at redemption. The question is whether you're brave enough to take it."
The touch of your claw against his skin sent electricity racing through his nerves. Jinu had forgotten what it felt like to be touched without manipulation or control underlying the gesture. Your claw was sharp enough to tear through his throat, yet the touch was almost tender.
"And if I choose redemption?" he whispered.
Your smile softened, losing some of its predatory edge. "Then maybe the Elders will decide you're worth saving when this is all over." You stepped back, leaving him feeling oddly bereft. "But that's a choice only you can make, Jinu. No one else can redeem you for you."
As you moved toward the door, Jinu called out desperately, "Wait! What's your name?"
You paused, glancing back over your shoulder with an expression that was almost fond. "Does it matter? We both know you're going to keep calling me by whatever name helps you sleep at night."
And then you were gone, leaving only the faint scent of ozone and the echo of your words hanging in the air. Jinu stood alone in the rehearsal studio, one hand pressed to his chest where something that felt dangerously like hope had begun to bloom.
Mystery:
The abandoned rooftop overlooked Seoul's glittering skyline, but Mystery's attention was focused entirely on you. He sat with his characteristic stillness, long violet hair cascading over his face like a shimmering curtain, while you perched on the building's edge with your legs dangling over the side. The wind caught your silver hair, and in the moonlight, your horns gleamed like polished obsidian.
Unlike the others, Mystery hadn't questioned your presence when you'd somehow appeared in their practice room three days ago. While Jinu had grown suspicious and the others had been distracted by their own schemes, Mystery had simply... watched. And now, in the quiet of the night air, he'd followed you here.
"You're not going to ask what I am?" you said without turning around. Your voice carried clearly in the still air, tinged with curiosity rather than defensiveness.
Mystery shifted slightly behind you, and you heard the soft rustle of fabric. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw him shake his head once. His face was still hidden behind his hair, but somehow you sensed rather than saw his expression.
"That's refreshing," you admitted, turning back to the view. "The others can't seem to help themselves. Always probing, always trying to figure out the angle."
A quiet hum came from behind you—not quite agreement, but understanding. You'd noticed that Mystery rarely spoke, even among the other Saja Boys. His silence wasn't uncomfortable though; it was the silence of someone who preferred to listen, to observe, to understand through watching rather than interrogation.
The crimson gems embedded in your armor caught the city lights as you stretched, your scales rippling in patterns that seemed almost hypnotic. "You know what I like about you, Mystery?" you said conversationally. "You don't try to fill every silence with noise."
Another soft sound, this one that might have been amusement. When you looked back again, you caught just the barest glimpse of his left eye through a gap in his hair—pale and knowing and completely unafraid of what he saw when he looked at you.
"The others think your hair hides weakness," you observed, studying his partially obscured features. "They're wrong, aren't they? It's not about hiding at all."
This time Mystery did speak, his voice barely above a whisper but somehow managing to carry perfect clarity. "It's about choosing what to reveal."
The insight sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the night air. You'd been alive for centuries, though still young by dragon standards, and you'd learned to read people through their actions rather than their words. Mystery's consistent silence wasn't shyness or mystique for the sake of image—it was control. Absolute, perfect control over what he allowed the world to see.
"That's a dangerous game for someone in your position," you said softly. "Gwi-Ma doesn't strike me as the type to appreciate subordinates with secrets."
"Everyone has secrets." Mystery's voice held a note of something that might have been melancholy. "Even dragons who pretend to be idol trainees."
You couldn't help but smile at that. "I never pretended to be anything. I just didn't correct their assumptions." You shifted your position on the ledge, turning to face him more fully. "The question is: what's your secret, Mystery? What are you hiding behind all that beautiful hair?"
For a long moment, he didn't respond. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached up and brushed a section of hair away from his face. The gesture revealed sharp, elegant features and eyes that held depths you hadn't expected—not the golden glow of his demon form, but something more complex. More human.
"I remember," he said quietly, "what it felt like to be someone else."
The admission hung in the air between you like a confession. You understood immediately what he meant—unlike some demons who were born to their nature, Mystery had been human once. And unlike others who had their human memories stripped away or suppressed, he remembered everything.
"That must be painful," you said gently.
"Sometimes." His hair fell back into place, partially obscuring his features again. "Other times, it's the only thing that keeps me sane."
You studied him with new understanding. The other Saja Boys played their roles with various degrees of enthusiasm or resignation, but Mystery approached everything with the careful detachment of someone who was fundamentally split between who he was and who he'd been forced to become.
"Is that why you stay so quiet? Because speaking feels like choosing sides?"
Mystery's silence stretched long enough that you wondered if he'd decided the conversation was over. Then: "Speaking feels like commitment. And I'm not sure which version of myself I'd be committing to."
The honesty in his voice made your chest tight with unexpected emotion. Without thinking, you slid down from the ledge and crossed the small distance between you. Mystery tensed slightly as you approached, but didn't move away.
"What if you didn't have to choose?" you asked, settling beside him on the rooftop. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, far enough that he wouldn't feel trapped. "What if you could just... be?"
"Dragons think differently than demons," he observed, but there was no accusation in his tone. "Or differently than humans, for that matter."
"Maybe that's exactly what you need," you said quietly. "A different perspective."
When Mystery turned to look at you—really look, pushing his hair back with deliberate intention—his eyes were bright with something that might have been hope. "And what perspective would that be?"
You reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away, and gently tucked a strand of his violet hair behind his ear. Your claw was careful, gentle, and the touch made his breath catch almost inaudibly.
"That maybe the parts of yourself you think are contradictory are actually what make you whole," you said softly. "The human memories, the demon nature, the careful control—maybe you don't have to choose between them. Maybe you can just... exist as all of it."
Mystery's eyes searched your face for a long moment, and you could practically see him processing your words, weighing them against everything he'd been taught about identity and survival and the necessity of choosing sides.
"You make it sound simple," he said finally.
"Simple and easy aren't the same thing," you acknowledged. "But maybe it's worth trying."
For the first time since you'd known him, Mystery smiled—a real smile, not the careful expression he wore for cameras and fans. It transformed his entire face, making him look younger and more alive than you'd ever seen him.
"Will you stay?" he asked quietly. "While I figure it out?"
Your answer was to settle more comfortably beside him, your shoulder brushing against his as you both turned to look out over the city. "For as long as you need."
And in the comfortable silence that followed, you felt something shift between you—the beginning of understanding that ran deeper than words.
Romance:
The hotel suite was decorated in soft pastels and romantic lighting—exactly the kind of setup that would make Romance's fans swoon if they could see it. But you weren't interested in the carefully curated aesthetic. Instead, you found yourself fascinated by the way Romance's carefully maintained persona cracked around the edges when he thought no one was watching.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, still wearing his heart-shaped hair clips from the earlier interview, but his posture had lost all its practiced charm. His pink eyes reflected the city lights, and for once, his expression was unguarded—tired, almost melancholy.
"You can drop the act," you said from your position lounging in one of his plush armchairs. Your silver hair spilled over the chair's arm, and you'd let your claws extend to their full length, idly tracing patterns in the expensive upholstery. "No cameras here."
Romance startled slightly, then turned to face you with a smile that was pure reflex—all heart-shaped lips and sultry confidence. But it didn't reach his eyes. "What act? I'm always exactly what you see."
You raised an eyebrow, the gems in your armor pulsing with faint light. "Really? Because what I see right now is someone who's exhausted from performing twenty-four hours a day."
The smile faltered for just a moment before Romance caught himself, reinforcing his expression with visible effort. "I don't know what you mean. I love what I do, love connecting with our fans—"
"Romance." You said his name quietly, but with enough authority to cut through his practiced patter. "I'm not one of your fans. I'm not human. And I'm definitely not buying whatever you're trying to sell right now."
For a long moment, he just stared at you. You could practically see him running through his usual arsenal of flirtatious responses and finding them all inadequate. Your draconic nature put you outside his normal sphere of influence—you couldn't be charmed or manipulated the way humans could.
"What do you want from me?" he asked finally, and for the first time since you'd met him, his voice held no performance at all.
"The truth would be a nice start," you said gently. You shifted in the chair, drawing your legs up and wrapping your arms around your knees in a posture that was somehow both relaxed and ready to move if necessary. "You're the only one of the Saja Boys who seems genuinely miserable with this whole scheme."
Romance's carefully maintained composure cracked visibly. He turned back to the window, pressing one hand against the glass. "You don't understand. This is who I am now. This is who I have to be."
"Says who?"
The question seemed to catch him off guard. He looked at you over his shoulder, confusion evident in his pink eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, who decided that Romance the performer is the only version of yourself you're allowed to be?" You unfolded yourself from the chair and crossed to where he stood. Your movement was fluid, predatory grace that made him track your approach with wary fascination. "Because I'm betting it wasn't you."
"Gwi-Ma—"
"Gwi-Ma wants results," you interrupted. "Soul harvesting, weakening HUNTR/X, building your fan base. But did he specifically tell you that you had to flirt with everything that moves? That you had to make every interaction about romance and seduction?"
Romance opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. You could see him thinking, really thinking, about the parameters of his role for what might have been the first time.
"I..." He trailed off, looking lost.
"You created a character," you said softly, "and now you're trapped in it."
The words hit him like a physical blow. Romance sagged against the window, all his careful posture abandoning him at once. "I don't even remember who I was before," he whispered. "Before the demon transformation, before the Saja Boys, before... this." He gestured vaguely at his own appearance.
Your heart clenched unexpectedly at the pain in his voice. Moving slowly, telegraphing your intentions, you reached out and gently removed one of his heart-shaped hair clips. His pink hair fell across his forehead in a way that looked far more natural than his usual styled perfection.
"Then maybe it's time to figure it out," you said quietly.
Romance's eyes went wide as he stared at you. No one had ever suggested that he could be anything other than what he was. The concept seemed to both terrify and fascinate him.
"What if there's nothing underneath?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "What if Romance is all there is?"
"Then we'll build something new," you said with quiet confidence. The crimson gems in your armor pulsed warmer as you spoke, and Romance found himself drawn to their steady rhythm. "But I don't think that's the case. I think you're more than you've been allowed to be."
Slowly, carefully, you reached out and removed his other hair clip. Romance didn't move to stop you, just watched with fascination as his appearance became less stylized, more human.
"What do you like?" you asked conversationally as you set the clips aside. "Not what Romance likes, not what tests well with fans, not what fits your image. What do you like?"
Romance stared at you as if you'd asked him to solve an impossible equation. "I... I don't know."
"That's okay," you said gently. "We can start small. What's your favorite time of day?"
He blinked, clearly struggling with the concept that his preferences might matter. "Early morning," he said finally, the words coming out hesitant, like he was testing them. "Before anyone else is awake. When the city is quiet and the light is soft."
"Why?"
"Because..." Romance paused, really considering the question. "Because I don't have to perform for anyone. I can just exist."
The admission seemed to surprise him as much as it touched you. Without thinking, you reached out and gently cupped his face in your hands, careful to keep your claws from pressing too hard against his skin.
"That's the most honest thing I've heard you say since we met," you told him softly.
Romance leaned into your touch with a soft sigh, his eyes falling closed. For a moment, he looked young and vulnerable and utterly unlike the confident performer the world knew.
"I'm scared," he whispered.
"Of what?"
"Of not being enough. Of disappointing everyone. Of... of someone seeing who I really am and deciding I'm not worth keeping around."
Your heart broke a little at the fear in his voice. Moving slowly, you pulled him closer until his forehead rested against yours. This close, you could see the exhaustion in his features, the careful way he held himself even when he thought he was relaxed.
"You are worth keeping around," you said firmly. "Not Romance the performer, not the idol image, not the character you've created. You. Whatever that looks like, whoever that turns out to be—you are worth it."
Romance's breath hitched, and when he opened his eyes, they were bright with unshed tears. "How can you be so sure? You barely know me."
"Because," you said softly, thumbs stroking gently across his cheekbones, "I can see past the performance. And what I see is someone who cares so much about making other people happy that he's forgotten how to make himself happy. Someone who's brave enough to love completely, even when it's terrifying."
"That sounds like a lot of work," Romance said, but there was a hint of his old humor in his voice.
You smiled, and this time it was warm rather than predatory. "The best things usually are."
Romance studied your face for a long moment, taking in the inhuman beauty of your features, the way your horns curved elegantly from your temple, the ancient wisdom in your eyes despite your relative youth.
"Will you help me?" he asked quietly. "Figure out who I am underneath all this?"
"If you want me to," you said simply.
Romance's smile was small but genuine—the first real smile you'd seen from him that wasn't calculated for maximum charm. "I'd like that."
And as you stood there in the soft light of his hotel suite, foreheads pressed together and breathing the same air, you felt something shift. The beginning of something real between you, built not on performance or seduction, but on the simple desire to understand and be understood.
Abby:
The gym was empty except for the two of you, the overhead lights casting harsh shadows across the equipment. Abby moved through his workout routine with mechanical precision, each rep perfectly controlled, each movement exactly calculated. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set just a little too tight.
You'd been watching him for twenty minutes from your perch atop a piece of equipment he wasn't using, your dragon nature allowing you to remain perfectly still for extended periods. Your scales caught the fluorescent light in subtle ways, creating patterns that shifted with each breath, but Abby hadn't looked in your direction once.
"You know I'm here," you said finally, your voice carrying clearly across the empty space.
Abby paused mid-rep, the heavy weight suspended above his chest, but he didn't turn to look at you. "Hard to miss," he said simply, his voice exactly as deep and controlled as always.
"And yet you've been pretending I don't exist for the past twenty minutes."
"Wasn't pretending." He completed the rep and carefully racked the weight before finally turning to face you. Even sitting, you could see the impressive breadth of his shoulders, the carefully maintained muscle mass that had earned him his nickname. "Just didn't see the point in conversation."
You tilted your head, studying his expression. Where the other Saja Boys wore their emotions—or performed versions of emotions—relatively openly, Abby's face was a careful mask of neutrality. But you'd been alive long enough to read the subtle signs: the slight tension around his eyes, the way he held his hands just a fraction too still.
"Fair enough," you acknowledged, hopping down from your perch with fluid grace. Your claws clicked against the gym floor as you landed, and you caught the almost imperceptible way Abby's eyes tracked the sound. "But I'm curious about something."
Abby waited, not encouraging the conversation but not shutting it down either.
"The others perform their roles," you continued, moving closer with the kind of measured approach you'd use with a wary animal. "Jinu's the conflicted leader, Mystery's the enigmatic one, Romance flirts with everything that moves, Baby plays up the cute factor. But you..." You paused directly in front of him, close enough to see the way his breathing had shifted subtly. "You just exist. Like the role of 'strong silent type' isn't a role at all."
Something flickered across Abby's expression—too quick to identify, but enough to tell you you'd hit something significant.
"Maybe it's not," he said finally.
"No," you agreed quietly. "I don't think it is. I think you're exactly who you appear to be, and that's what makes you the most dangerous one in the group."
Abby's eyebrows rose slightly—the most dramatic change in expression you'd seen from him yet. "Dangerous?"
You nodded, your silver hair catching the light as it moved. "The others are playing characters, which means they're always at least partly pretending. But you? You're just... yourself. Completely, authentically yourself. That's terrifying to people who've forgotten how to be genuine."
For a long moment, Abby just stared at you. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than usual, though still carrying that characteristic depth. "You talk like you know something about that."
"Dragons don't lie," you said simply. "We can't, actually. Not to ourselves, anyway. It's part of our nature—we are what we are, completely and without apology." You gestured to your own appearance, the obvious inhuman elements that you'd never bothered to hide or downplay. "It makes it easy to recognize authenticity in others."
Abby was quiet for a long time, processing your words. When he finally spoke, there was something almost vulnerable in his tone. "The others think I'm simple. Just muscle, no brains."
"Are you?"
"No." The answer came without hesitation, carrying a quiet confidence that made your chest warm unexpectedly.
"Then why do you let them think that?"
Abby's hands flexed slightly—the first unnecessary movement you'd seen from him. "Because it's easier. People underestimate what they think they understand."
The insight surprised you with its depth. You'd expected Abby to be straightforward, but you hadn't anticipated the strategic thinking behind his carefully maintained image.
"Smart," you acknowledged. "But lonely."
The word hit its mark. Abby's carefully controlled expression cracked slightly, revealing a flash of something that might have been pain.
"Loneliness is a choice," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Bullshit." The bluntness of your response seemed to startle him. "Loneliness is what happens when you're surrounded by people who only see the surface. When you're the only one in the room who knows who you really are."
Abby's breathing had gotten slightly uneven, though he was trying to hide it. You could see the conflict in his posture—the part of him that wanted to shut down the conversation warring with the part that was desperate to be seen, really seen, by someone.
"What do you want from me?" he asked finally, echoing Romance's earlier question but with completely different energy. Where Romance had been defensive, Abby sounded genuinely curious.
"Nothing," you said honestly. "I just wanted you to know that someone sees you. The real you, not the performance."
"And what do you think you see?"
You considered the question seriously, taking in his carefully controlled posture, the way he held himself ready for action even in casual conversation, the intelligence in his eyes that he kept carefully hidden.
"I see someone who's been strong for so long he's forgotten he's allowed to be anything else," you said quietly. "Someone who protects the people around him by being the thing they can count on, even when it costs him pieces of himself."
Abby's jaw worked silently, and you could see him struggling with emotions he probably hadn't let himself feel in years.
"I see someone who's tired," you continued gently, "but who would never admit it because too many people are depending on his strength."
"You don't know me," Abby said, but his voice was rough around the edges.
"No," you agreed. "But I know what it looks like when someone carries the world on their shoulders and pretends the weight doesn't matter."
Without warning, Abby's carefully maintained control cracked. His shoulders sagged slightly, and when he looked at you, his expression was open and raw and utterly without pretense.
"I'm tired," he admitted, the words coming out like a confession. "I'm so tired of being what everyone needs me to be."
The admission hung in the air between you like a bridge. Moving slowly, giving him time to pull away, you reached out and placed your hand on his arm. Your touch was gentle despite your claws, and you felt the tension in his muscles gradually start to ease.
"What do you need?" you asked softly.
Abby looked down at your hand on his arm, then back up to your face. "I don't remember," he said honestly. "It's been so long since anyone asked."
"That's okay," you said, just as you had with Romance, but this time with different energy—steadier, more grounded. "We can figure it out together."
"Why would you want to?"
The question broke your heart a little. "Because everyone deserves to be more than just what other people need them to be. Even demons. Even you."
Abby stared at you for a long moment, and you could see him trying to process the concept that his wants and needs might matter to someone else.
"I don't know how to be anything else," he said finally.
"That's okay too," you assured him. "We'll start small. What's one thing you want, just for yourself? Not for the group, not for Gwi-Ma, not for the fans. Just for you."
Abby considered the question seriously, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. "I want to sleep for twelve hours straight without anyone needing anything from me."
The answer was so simple, so fundamentally human, that it made your chest tight with emotion.
"Then that's where we start," you said firmly. "When this is all over—whatever 'this' ends up being—you're going to sleep for twelve hours, and I'm going to make sure no one disturbs you."
"You'd do that?" Abby asked, and there was something almost wondering in his voice.
"I'd do that," you confirmed. "And then, when you wake up, we'll figure out what comes next."
For the first time since you'd met him, Abby smiled—a real smile that transformed his entire face and made him look years younger.
"I'd like that," he said quietly.
And in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the empty gym, surrounded by the scent of metal and old sweat, something new began to bloom between you. Not romance, not in the traditional sense, but something deeper and more fundamental: true understanding, and the promise that neither of you had to carry your burdens alone.
Baby:
The candy shop was closed for the night, but Baby had somehow gotten inside anyway. You found him sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the lollipop display, his turquoise hair catching the streetlight that filtered through the front windows. His mustard-colored beret sat at a jaunty angle, and he was methodically unwrapping and discarding candy with the focused attention of a child.
But you weren't fooled by the picture he made. Even in his human form, there was something unsettling about the precise way he moved, the too-controlled way he held himself even while supposedly relaxing.
"Breaking and entering?" you observed from the doorway, your silver hair gleaming in the dim light. "That's awfully naughty behavior for the baby of the group."
Baby didn't startle at your voice, didn't even look up from his candy. "Didn't break anything," he said, his voice carrying that strange contrast between youthful timber and mature depth. "And technically it's not entering if the door was unlocked."
"Was it unlocked?"
"It is now."
Despite yourself, you found your lips quirking upward in amusement. Of all the Saja Boys, Baby was the hardest to read—his cute act was so perfectly maintained that it was difficult to tell where the performance ended and his real personality began.
You stepped into the shop, your claws clicking softly against the tile floor. Baby finally looked up at you, his turquoise eyes bright with an intelligence that didn't match his childish posture.
"You're not going to scold me?" he asked, tilting his head in a gesture that would have been endearing if not for the calculating gleam in his eyes.
"Would it work if I did?"
Baby considered this seriously, then shook his head. "Probably not. I don't respond well to authority."
"Good thing I'm not trying to be an authority figure then."
This seemed to genuinely surprise him. Baby's carefully maintained cute expression flickered, revealing something sharper underneath. "Then what are you trying to be?"
You settled on the floor across from him, mirroring his cross-legged position. Your scales caught what little light there was, creating shifting patterns that Baby tracked with obvious fascination.
"Curious," you said honestly. "You're the most enigmatic member of your group, and that's saying something considering Mystery literally hides his face."
Baby's laugh was bright and infectious, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Enigmatic? I'm an open book. I like candy and spicy food and making people smile."
"And strategic manipulation, soul harvesting, and emotional terrorism," you added conversationally.
The cute act dropped completely. Baby's expression went flat, his turquoise eyes suddenly cold and calculating in a way that was genuinely unsettling coming from someone who looked barely eighteen.
"Finally," he said, his voice losing all its playful inflection. "I was wondering how long you were going to pretend to buy the innocent act."
The transformation was jarring—like watching a mask slip to reveal something entirely different underneath. This was the real Baby Saja: brilliant, dangerous, and utterly without remorse for the havoc he caused.
"How long have you been a demon?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"Long enough." Baby unwrapped another lollipop, this one blood-red, and popped it into his mouth. "The others think I was turned young, but that's not quite right. I was... recruited."
"Recruited?"
Baby's smile around the lollipop was sharp as glass. "Gwi-Ma doesn't just collect souls randomly. He scouts for potential. I was eleven when he found me—a child prodigy with a gift for manipulation and absolutely no moral compass."
The casual way he talked about his own corruption was more disturbing than any amount of screaming or posturing would have been. You'd met ancient evils that were less unsettling than this cheerful admission of voluntary damnation.
"Most demons either remember being human with nostalgia or have had those memories suppressed," you observed. "You talk about it like a career change."
"Because that's what it was." Baby pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a soft pop. "I was already a monster. Gwi-Ma just gave me the tools to be a more effective one."
"And the cute act?"
"People protect children. They underestimate children. They forgive children for things they'd never forgive adults." Baby's expression was utterly serene as he explained his methodology. "Plus, there's something particularly satisfying about corrupting innocence when everyone thinks you're the innocent one."
You studied his face, looking for any sign of the child he'd supposedly been, any hint of humanity that might still exist underneath his carefully constructed persona. What you found was... complicated.
"You're lying," you said finally.
Baby's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"
"Not about the facts," you clarified. "But about the feelings. You want me to think you're completely without conscience, completely comfortable with what you've become. But dragons can sense emotional truth, and you're broadcasting pain so loudly it's giving me a headache."
For the first time since his mask had dropped, Baby looked genuinely rattled. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" You leaned forward slightly, your horns catching the light. "You were eleven, Baby. Eleven years old when Gwi-Ma found you. Even if you were already showing sociopathic tendencies, you were still a child. Children aren't born monsters—they're made into them."
"I chose this," Baby said, but his voice had lost some of its earlier conviction.
"Did you? Or did a scared, lonely kid make a deal he didn't understand because it was the first time anyone had ever told him he was special?"
Baby's lollipop slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. His carefully controlled expression cracked, revealing something raw and wounded underneath.
"Stop," he whispered.
But you couldn't stop, not when you could see how much he needed to hear this. "You've spent so long being what Gwi-Ma needed you to be that you've forgotten you were something else first. Someone else."
"I don't remember," Baby said, and his voice was suddenly very young. "I don't remember who I was before."
"That's okay," you said gently, echoing the words you'd spoken to the others but meaning them just as much. "Memory isn't the only way to find yourself."
Baby stared at you with wide eyes, and for the first time since you'd met him, he looked his apparent age—young and lost and desperately in need of someone to tell him it was going to be okay.
"What if there's nothing good left?" he asked quietly. "What if I really am just a monster?"
"Then we'll figure out how to build something good," you said firmly. "But I don't think that's the case. I think you're a survivor who learned to hide his pain so well that even he forgot it was there."
Moving slowly, you reached out and gently brushed a tear from Baby's cheek—when had he started crying? Your claw was careful against his skin, and he leaned into the touch with a soft sigh.
"I'm scared," he admitted, the words barely audible.
"Of what?"
"Of what I'll find if I stop pretending to be okay with what I've done."
Your heart clenched at the fear in his voice. "Then we'll face it together," you promised. "Whatever it is, whatever you find, you won't have to face it alone."
Baby's smile was watery but genuine—the first real expression you'd seen from him that wasn't calculated for effect.
"Will you stay with me?" he asked, and he sounded very young and very afraid.
"For as long as you need," you promised.
And as you sat there in the closed candy shop, surrounded by the scent of sugar and the soft sound of Baby's quiet crying, you felt something shift. The beginning of healing, maybe, or at least the possibility of it. The understanding that even monsters could be saved, if someone cared enough to try.
The fruit bat vampire made wanted to request the reader being a Manananggal (a type of filipino vampire, can separate their upper body from their lower half).
I like to imagine when she confessed that she a vampire they thought she was stereotypical vampire, but one night, when the reader when hunting for blood, they discovered her lower half still at the house and when she returns they see her upper body with wings and a long tongue
Here you go, ty for requesting. (3
The confession had been terrifying enough. Standing in the shared living room of your apartment, surrounded by the five boys who had somehow wormed their way into your heart, you had finally worked up the courage to tell them the truth about what you were. Your hands trembled as you spoke the words that had been burning inside you for months.
"I'm... I'm a vampire."
The silence that followed was deafening. Jinu, ever the leader, was the first to break it. His dark eyes studied your face with that intense expression you'd grown to love, searching for any sign of deception. Mystery remained characteristically quiet behind his silver-violet bangs, but you could feel his hidden gaze boring into you. Abby crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, his mint-green Hawaiian shirt stretching across his frame. Romance's pink hair caught the lamplight as he tilted his head, while Baby simply stared with those unsettling turquoise eyes of his.
"A vampire?" Jinu repeated slowly, his voice carrying that slight accent that made your heart flutter despite the circumstances. "Like... fangs and blood?"
You nodded miserably, expecting them to recoil, to call you a monster, to leave. Instead, Mystery made a soft sound that might have been amusement, and Romance actually smiled.
"That's... actually pretty cool," Baby said in that surprisingly deep voice of his, breaking his usual bored facade. "Do you turn into a bat?"
"It's not like that," you protested weakly, but relief was already flooding through you. They weren't running. They weren't afraid. If anything, they seemed... intrigued?
Abby stepped forward, his observant eyes taking in your every micro-expression. "You've been hiding this the whole time we've been together?" There was something almost impressed in his tone. "That takes some serious skill."
"I was scared," you admitted, looking down at your hands. "I thought you'd think I was a freak."
"Babe," Romance said, his flirtatious nature shining through as he moved closer, "we're literally demons disguised as a K-pop group. Did you think we'd judge?"
Your head snapped up in surprise. "What?"
The five of them exchanged glances, and Jinu ran a hand through his black hair with a rueful laugh. "I guess we all have secrets. We're... not exactly human either."
"Demons," Mystery added quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Soul-stealing, shape-shifting demons."
The revelation should have been shocking, but instead, it felt like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. All the little things that hadn't quite made sense – their supernatural charisma, the way they seemed to appear and disappear without anyone noticing, the strange energy that always surrounded them during performances.
"So we're all monsters then," you said with a shaky laugh.
"Monsters in love," Romance corrected, making hearts appear in the air with a casual gesture that no longer seemed like a stage trick.
That had been three months ago. Since then, your relationship had deepened in ways you never thought possible. There was something liberating about being able to be completely honest with them about your nature, even if you hadn't shared all the specific details about exactly what kind of vampire you were.
They assumed you were like the stereotypical vampires from movies – fangs, drinking blood from necks, sleeping in coffins. You hadn't corrected them. How could you explain that you were something far more terrifying than their romanticized version of vampirism?
The truth was, you were a Manananggal – a creature from Filipino folklore that most people had never even heard of. During the day, you appeared completely human, but at night, when the hunger called, you could detach your upper torso from your lower half, sprout enormous bat-like wings, and hunt with a long, flexible tongue designed for feeding on blood and... other things.
You'd been careful to only hunt when they were away on tour or busy with schedules. The boys were often out late at the company building, practicing choreography or recording, which gave you plenty of opportunities to slip away unnoticed. You'd return before dawn, your lower half still in bed where you'd left it, and they'd be none the wiser.
Tonight was supposed to be no different. The boys had mentioned they'd be at the studio until at least 3 AM working on a new track. You'd kissed each of them goodbye – Jinu's soft lips lingering against yours, Mystery's rare kiss filled with hidden passion, Abby's confident embrace, Romance's playful peck followed by heart-shaped smoke, and Baby's surprisingly gentle touch – before they'd left around 10 PM.
By 11 PM, you were ready to hunt.
The separation never got easier. There was always a moment of disorientation as your torso detached from your lower half with a wet, tearing sound that would probably horrify anyone who heard it. Your entrails hung freely as massive, leathery wings burst from your shoulder blades, stretching wide enough to carry you through the night sky. Your tongue elongated, becoming a hollow, tubular appendage perfect for feeding.
You left your lower half on the bed, legs still tucked under the covers as if you were simply sleeping. To anyone who didn't know better, it would look like you were just lying there peacefully.
The hunt itself was quick – you'd learned to be efficient over the years. A drunk businessman stumbling home alone, too intoxicated to remember clearly. Just enough blood to sustain you without causing permanent harm, though he'd wake up dizzy and confused with a strange mark on his neck that would fade by morning.
You were returning home around 2 AM, wings cutting silently through the darkness, when you saw lights on in the apartment windows. Your heart – or what passed for one in your current state – stopped. They weren't supposed to be back yet.
Panic flooded your system as you landed on the fire escape outside your bedroom window. Through the glass, you could see your lower half exactly where you'd left it, but now there were voices coming from the living room. Male voices. Familiar voices.
"...should we wake her?" That was Romance's voice, unusually subdued.
"Let her sleep," Jinu replied. "She looked tired earlier."
They were home early. You pressed yourself against the wall beside the window, mind racing. How were you going to get back inside and reattach without them seeing? Your upper torso, with its wings and exposed entrails, was hardly something you could explain away.
"I'm going to check on her," Baby announced, and your blood ran cold.
You heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door, and in desperation, you pressed yourself even flatter against the fire escape, hoping the shadows would hide you. The door opened, and Baby's voice drifted out.
"Guys?" His tone was strange, confused. "You need to see this."
More footsteps, faster now. You could hear them all crowding into the bedroom.
"What the hell?" That was Abby, his usual confidence replaced by shock.
"Is that...?" Mystery's quiet voice trailed off.
You closed your eyes, wings trembling. They'd found your lower half. There was no explaining this away, no excuse that would make sense to anyone who didn't know what you really were.
"Where's the rest of her?" Romance's voice was higher than usual, tinged with worry and confusion.
"This is impossible," Jinu muttered. "People don't just... lose half their body."
You could hear them moving around the room, probably examining your legs, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. Part of you wanted to flee, to disappear into the night and never come back. But these weren't just anyone – these were the boys you loved, who loved you back. Running would only hurt them more.
Taking a shuddering breath that was mostly for show – you didn't technically need to breathe in this form – you tapped gently on the window.
The voices in the room went silent. Then Baby appeared at the window, his turquoise eyes going wide as he took in your current appearance. Your exposed rib cage, the massive wings folded against your back, the long tongue that you quickly retracted back into your mouth.
"Oh shit," he whispered.
One by one, the others appeared behind him. Jinu's face went pale as he stared at you through the glass. Abby's mouth fell open. Mystery's hidden eyes widened enough that you could actually see them beneath his hair for once. Romance made a strangled noise.
For a long moment, nobody moved. Then Jinu slowly reached for the window latch and opened it.
"Come inside," he said quietly.
You hesitated, wings twitching nervously. "I can explain—"
"Inside first," he insisted, his leader instincts taking over. "Explanations after."
Folding your wings as much as possible, you squeezed through the window opening. The boys stepped back to give you room, but none of them ran. That was... something, at least.
You hovered awkwardly in the air, not sure whether to approach your lower half or maintain distance. Your tongue kept trying to extend on its own – a nervous habit you'd developed – and you had to keep retracting it.
"So," Jinu said finally, his voice carefully controlled. "Not exactly the kind of vampire we were expecting."
"I'm called a Manananggal," you said softly, wings folded tight against your back. "It's... it's from Philippine mythology. I didn't lie about being a vampire, but I know it's not what you thought I meant."
Mystery stepped closer, his silver-purple hair shifting as he tilted his head. For the first time since you'd known him, his eyes were completely visible, wide with fascination rather than fear. "You can separate yourself," he observed. "Your lower half... it's still alive."
"It stays here while I hunt," you confirmed, glancing at your legs on the bed. "I know it's horrifying—"
"It's incredible," Baby interrupted, his deep voice filled with genuine awe. "You're like... the ultimate predator. Efficient. Deadly." He paused. "Sexy."
"Baby," Romance warned, but there was amusement in his tone rather than censure.
Abby was studying your wings with obvious interest. "The wing structure is fascinating. Bat-like, but scaled up for your body weight. And the muscle development..." He caught himself and flushed slightly. "Sorry, I'm just... impressed by the engineering."
You stared at them in amazement. "You're not... disgusted? Terrified?"
Jinu moved closer, his dark eyes soft with understanding. "Y/N, we've seen each other in our demon forms. Trust me, you're not the scariest thing in this room." As if to prove his point, his human façade flickered for a moment, revealing purple-blue skin and yellow eyes with slit pupils. "We're all monsters here, remember?"
Romance created a heart in the air, but this one was darker than usual, edged with shadow. "Besides, you hunt to survive. We hunt for Gwi-Ma." His expression grew serious. "Which one of us is really the monster?"
"You hunt alone though," Mystery observed, his quiet voice thoughtful. "That must be... lonely."
The word hit you like a physical blow. Lonely. Yes, that was exactly what it was. Centuries of hunting alone, of hiding what you were, of never being able to share this fundamental part of your nature with anyone.
"It is," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Baby made a soft sound of sympathy and stepped closer, ignoring your exposed entrails and extended rib cage. "You don't have to be alone anymore."
"What do you mean?"
Jinu exchanged glances with the others, some silent communication passing between them. "We mean you don't have to hunt alone. We could... come with you."
Your wings twitched in surprise. "You'd want to do that?"
"Why not?" Abby shrugged, his confidence returning. "We're already soul-stealing demons. Adding a little old-fashioned blood hunting to the mix doesn't seem like much of a stretch."
"Besides," Romance added with his characteristic flirtatious grin, "watching you in action would probably be incredibly hot."
You couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound strange coming from your elongated throat. "You're all insane."
"Insanely in love," Mystery corrected quietly, echoing Romance's words from months ago.
The warmth that spread through your chest had nothing to do with the blood you'd consumed earlier. These boys – these demons who'd somehow become your everything – weren't just accepting your true nature. They were embracing it.
"I should... reattach," you said, glancing at your lower half. "This form isn't exactly comfortable for cuddling."
"Can we watch?" Baby Saja asked with that morbid curiosity that always lurked beneath his cute exterior.
"If you want," you said, moving to hover over your legs. "But it's not exactly pretty."
"Neither is demon transformation," Jinu pointed out. "We've all seen worse."
The reattachment process was always disorienting. Your entrails had to retract back into your torso, your wings had to dissolve back into your shoulder blades, and then the slow, wet process of your upper and lower halves reconnecting. You felt your tongue shrink back to normal length as your ribs closed properly and your skin sealed over the separation point.
When it was over, you were fully human again, sitting on the bed in the pajamas your lower half had been wearing. The boys were watching with expressions ranging from fascination to concern.
"How do you feel?" Jinu asked, sitting beside you on the mattress.
"Tired," you admitted. "It always takes energy to change back."
Mystery sat on your other side, his hair falling back over his eyes but his presence warm and comforting. "The separation... does it hurt?"
"Not exactly hurt," you said, trying to find the words. "It's more like... stretching a muscle you didn't know you had. Uncomfortable, but not painful."
Abby claimed the chair by your desk, while Romance and Baby settled on the floor, all of them watching you with intense attention.
"How long have you been like this?" Romance asked.
"Centuries," you said simply. "I was turned when I was young. Younger than I am now, physically."
"Turned?" Baby's eyebrows rose. "So you weren't born this way?"
You shook your head. "Manananggal can create others, but it's rare. Most of us prefer to hunt alone." You paused. "I've been alone since the one who turned me was killed by hunters about two hundred years ago."
The silence that followed was heavy with sympathy. Finally, Jinu reached out and took your hand.
"You're not alone anymore," he said firmly. "Never again."
"We're your pack now," Mystery added quietly. "Your... what do you call a group of Manananggal?"
"There isn't really a word for it," you said with a small smile. "We don't usually group together."
"Then we'll make our own word," Romance declared. "We're your... coven. No, that's witches. Your flight? Murder? What do you call a group of bat-vampires?"
"A colony of bats," Abby supplied helpfully.
"Perfect. We're your colony," Baby Saja announced with satisfaction.
The ridiculousness of it made you laugh again, and this time the sound was fully human and warm. "A colony of demons and one Manananggal. That's... actually kind of perfect."
"So about this hunting thing," Jinu said, his leader instincts kicking in again. "You said you're careful not to cause permanent harm?"
You nodded. "I take only what I need to survive. Usually just blood, though..." You hesitated.
"Though?" Mystery prompted gently.
"Manananggal are traditionally known for... other feeding habits," you admitted, your face burning with embarrassment. "But I don't do that. I've never done that. The blood is enough."
Romance's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh, you mean the fetus thing. Yeah, we read about that when we were researching you."
"You researched me?" you asked in surprise.
"Of course we did," Abby said matter-of-factly. "After you told us you were a vampire, we wanted to understand. Though we were expecting something more... Dracula-esque."
"The research was... illuminating," Mystery added, his quiet voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Baby grinned, showing teeth that flickered between human and demonic for a moment. "The internet has some very creative interpretations of Manananggal anatomy."
"Oh god," you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "Please tell me you didn't look at the fan art."
"We looked at everything," Romance said cheerfully. "Some of it was surprisingly artistic."
"I'm never living this down," you muttered.
Jinu squeezed your hand. "Hey, look at me." When you lowered your hands, his expression was serious. "We learned about what you are, but that doesn't change how we feel about you. If anything, it makes us love you more."
"How could finding out I'm a literal monster make you love me more?"
"Because," Mystery said softly, "you've been carrying this alone for centuries. That kind of strength, that kind of resilience... it's incredible."
"Plus," Baby added with his characteristic directness, "the idea of you hunting is really hot. Like, seriously hot."
"Everything is hot to you," Abby pointed out.
"Not everything. Just Y/N. And you guys. And music. And dancing. And—"
"We get it," Romance interrupted with a laugh. "You have a lot of interests."
The easy banter between them helped you relax. This was still them – still your boys, still the demons who'd somehow stolen your heart and accepted all of you in return.
"So what happens now?" you asked.
"Now," Jinu said, "we figure out how to make this work. All of it. The relationship, the hunting, the secrecy..."
"We're already good at secrecy," Mystery observed. "Demon boy band, remember?"
"True," you acknowledged. "But hunting together... that's different. You don't understand what it's like when I'm in that form. I'm not entirely... me. The hunger takes over sometimes."
"We can handle ourselves," Abby assured you. "We're not exactly helpless humans."
Romance created another shadowy heart. "Besides, if you lose control, we'll just have to find a way to bring you back."
"How?"
He grinned wickedly. "I have some ideas."
Baby made a gagging sound. "Keep your kinks to yourself, hyung."
"It's not a kink, it's strategy," Romance protested. "Emotional anchoring through physical—"
"Definitely a kink," Mystery interrupted dryly.
You watched them bicker with a warmth spreading through your chest. This was your family now – this chaotic, loving group of demons who'd somehow found their way into your life and decided to stay.
"When's the next time you need to hunt?" Jinu asked, cutting through the playful argument.
"A few days, probably," you said. "The hunger builds gradually."
"Then we have time to plan," he decided. "We'll figure out the logistics, make sure we're all on the same page."
"You're really serious about this," you said, still not quite believing it.
"Deadly serious," Mystery confirmed. "We're in this together now. All of it."
Abby stood up and moved to the bed, settling behind you so you were surrounded by warm bodies. "That includes the scary stuff. Especially the scary stuff."
Romance and Baby joined the pile, creating a tangle of limbs and affection that you'd grown to associate with home.
"I love you," you said quietly, the words encompassing all of them. "I love all of you so much."
"We love you too," Jinu said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Every part of you. Even the parts that can detach and fly away."
"Especially those parts," Baby Saja added with a grin.
As you settled into the warm embrace of your demon colony, you felt something you hadn't experienced in centuries: complete acceptance. They'd seen you at your most monstrous, most inhuman, and their response had been to love you more fiercely than ever.
For the first time since you'd been turned all those years ago, you weren't alone. The hunting would be different now – shared instead of solitary, supported instead of secret. But more than that, you finally had a family who understood what it meant to be something other than human, who embraced the darkness because they lived in it too.
Outside the window, dawn was beginning to creep across the sky. Soon you'd all need to sleep, to rest up for another day of pretending to be normal. But tonight had changed everything. You were still a Manananggal, still a creature of blood and shadow and ancient hunger.
But you were no longer a monster alone in the dark.
