HELLO? your saja boys characterizations are so perfect!!!! i really loved reading the 'sharing' post!!!
If i may request...Baby going absolutely soft and tame under the reader's affections as they trace the patterns on his demon form face and neck with quick little kisses, secretly just trying to see how much it takes for the nonchalant Baby to loosen his composure, and they get just what they were aiming for. I love the demons being slightly awkward or unsure of such affections as I imagine its hard to come by it in the demon realm.
Answer: Aaah~ Arigatou!! I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself!! ( _ _)人 It makes me happy to know their personalities fits! And oh boi- the sOftness!! I love this idea so much! Def see what ya mean w the boyz being awkward with affection since as ya said they probably ain't cuddling in demon realm lol Hope you'll like it readershi!
📍Requests: Please check HERE
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
Baby Saja: What's Affection?
Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral
🍼 Baby had barely any memories of his life before death - only fragmented flashes.
🍼 A betrayal from someone he once trusted. A faceless figure selling him off to another faceless nobody. Torture. Torture. Moulding. Screams. Blood. Endless cries.
🍼 The memories always ended the same: the sound of a thousand skittering legs crawling - burrowing - into his ears, past his eardrums. Screams. Tears. And then— Darkness...
🍼 Everything after that became crystal clear. He remembered standing emotionlessly before a vast wall of violent purple flames that crackled as if laughing. There was, however, another voice. Soft, almost like a balm on the pain his body hadn’t realised it carried. It coaxed him to step back.
🍼 So he did. He slid his right foot behind him, about to lean toward that soothing light - when another voice, one that burned, spoke: "WoUldn’T YoU LikE tO ForGet?"
🍼 The words hit like a club across his head. His eyes snapped open, head splitting with pressure as memories fought to surface. Rage he didn't knew was there surged forward. Screams and images - blurry faces he didn’t recognise but hated all the same - overwhelmed the soft pull of the first voice.
🍼 His hands twitched with the urge to tear something apart - to claw the answers to his questions out of someone, anyone. Instead, his fingers dug into his scalp, nails scraping skin until he felt something wet slide down his forehead, trailing along his cheeks, dripping to his bare collarbone.
🍼 "gO," said the flame again. His gaze locked on the radiant purple fire. A warmth spread through him - not comforting, but fueling - amplifying his rage, he didn't know he had while the soft voice behind him begged him to turn back.
🍼 He gritted his teeth. A faint, sharp face appeared within the flame, grinning with needle-like teeth. "Go aNd ForGeT, bY mAkiNg AmeNDs wITh thOsE whO WroNgED yoU… I shAll aLlOw It tO hApPen."
🍼 It spoke with such confidence he didn’t even question it. Just took one slow step forward. Then another. Until he stood directly in front of the one he would come to know as Gwi-Ma.
🍼 Warmth engulfed him. His shoulders eased, the tension slipping away as his body - cold without him even realising - began to warm up.
🍼 Then came the pain. Scorching. Burning. The purple flames had devoured him whole. It lasted only seconds, yet stretched into what felt like centuries as the cackling of the flames joined his blood-curdling screams..
🍼 And with the dying flames, the contract was sealed. Powers to take the lives of those who wronged him for his submission to whom he now recognised as his King. Warmth then became something wrong. It prickled. Burned. Even the thought of a touch made him recoil.
🍼 Not that anyone in the demon realm dared to touch him. Not when he started rising through the ranks faster than anyone expected for a freshly turned demon. It was laughable, really - he didn’t even know what the ranks were until much later. He was too busy hunting humans to satisfy the maddening itch in the void where his soul used to be.
🍼 He was no one. Just a follower meant to feed his King. Until Jinu came along, saw his face in the demon realm, and casually called him “Baby.”
🍼 Baby hadn’t realised it would stick. Even with demonic features, it seems he had a baby face. Perfect for luring in humans if you asked him.
🍼 He had no memory of his real face, no idea who he used to be. The only hints were physical reactions - flinches, preferences, inexplicable instincts. Forget my ass, Baby would grumble every time his body reacted to something he couldn’t explain.
🍼 So, when Jinu asked if he wanted to take a peek at the human world, Baby very easily said no. It wasn’t until Jinu literally begged that a sadistic smirk tugged at Baby’s lips, and he agreed - caring very little for whatever promises Jinu had offered.
🍼 But the lack of memory came with one very specific problem: He had no template to base his appearance on. Although Baby felt that even his demonic form probably held more resemblance to whoever he’d been before death than whatever polished identity Jinu had instructed him to mimic.
🍼 The mint hair felt right in tone, but not colour. His bright painted nails felt right too, though he preferred darker shades. His cheeks were too round, eyes too big - he remembered scowling the first time he saw his reflection and calling himself a “Fucking owl.” Eventually, he altered them, drooping them slightly. Enough to pass as doe-eyed, but more tolerable for him.
🍼His lips and nose felt… familiar. Almost correct. And his demon markings? He felt naked without them.
🍼 Ironic, considering they were symbols of what he’d become. Still, they were him now. Not this peach-skinned twink he wore for public appearances.
🍼 He lived for moments when no humans were around and he could drop the illusion. Let his features sharpen. Hair darken. Let the demon marks shimmer faintly when caught at the right angle.
🍼 But the thing that really got under his skin? That fucking honmoon wave surrounding the entire damn globe. Broadcasting its bullshit feelings - “Comfort,” “Love,” “Warmth.” Every time it pulsed near him, his brain went static, and his body curled in on itself. Disgusting.
🍼 He labelled what he felt as disgust, anyway. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to investigate it either. Those feelings? They made his skin crawl. Tried to fill the void in his chest - and he wanted nothing to do with them.
🍼 So when you slipped into his routine, so slowly he didn’t even notice until Romance offhandedly asked if you’d be coming to one of their shoots - Baby had been about to say no. But he froze. Because how the fuck should he know?
🍼 He hadn’t even realised how intertwined you’d become in his life until that moment. He hated it. He hated what you made him feel.
🍼 Even worse? He realised why he felt so pissy lately. It was you who made it impossible for him to relax the illusion. That was your fault.
🍼 So. What does a clever, soul-devouring, high-ranking demon do? ... That’s right. He told you.
🍼 Told you the truth - on the apartment balcony. At night, when the guys were out. Cornered you, really. He knew humans had that fight, flight, or freeze instinct, and he wasn’t about to be scolded by his seniors if you ran off because your little human brain couldn’t process anything that wasn’t a grey alien with antennae.
🍼 Let the illusion slowly fall away- Silver-blue eyes overtaken by a glowing gold, face subtly shifting, clawed hands flexing. Grey-toned skin bled over warm peach, washing it out in waves. Markings flickered faintly before settling - like ink spreading across wet parchment.
🍼 It went about as well as he expected. You looked at him - his pupils narrowed vertically, curious - And you promptly jerked back and fell off the fucking skyscraper.
🍼 Baby watched you over the railing, utterly bored, as you plummeted. Would they follow Gwi-Ma if they died? The thought flickered. The answer was obviously no.
🍼 So he jumped after you. Caught up with ease - just as your panic spiked, sharp and intoxicating through the honmoon. He pulled you against him mid-air, chest to chest. In the next breath, you vanished in a swirl of violet smoke - Only to reappear on the same balcony you'd hurled yourself from.
🍼 His expression didn’t change as you shoved him away, gasping, refusing to look at him. Baby would never admit it, but for a second, he wondered if telling you had been a mistake.
🍼 Because if you’d said you wanted to leave, even if you promised to stay silent— He wouldn’t have hesitated. He would’ve feasted on your soul then and there. So at least some part of you would stay with him.
🍼 Good for you, though. You calmed down. Asked questions. And Baby answered - just enough to soothe you, and somehow managed to make you believe he and the others only wanted to live like humans.
🍼 Yeah right. He nearly rolled his eyes at himself. They did want to live like humans, sure. But only so they could turn those annoying HUNTER/X fans into SAJA fans so their King could have enough souls to have a corporeal form.
🍼 Still. He told you exactly what he thought would calm you down. And it worked.
So you really couldn't blame him for looking at you like you'd lost every single brain cell the moment you asked him to show more of his demon features. The two of you were tucked away in his room - Romance and Abby off experiencing another so-called “wonder of the human world” under Mystery’s watchful eye, while Jinu was out doing who-knew-what for who-knew-why. Again. If Baby cared enough, he could’ve tapped into the honmoon and followed his veiled wave to sense what the other was feeling and where he roughly was. But right now, all of his attention was locked on you, mouth parted slightly as he gawked. He blinked, a brow rising before a faint smirk curved his lips as he looked you over. “Why? Want an excuse to go jumpin’ off the balcony again?” he asked, voice low, honeyed with a slight rasp. You seemed to be still a bit bothered by the subtler demon traits he let slip - like those faintly glowing golden eyes, the greyish tint to his skin, and the slightly curved black claws at the tips of his fingers. Still, most of his human features remained intact. Baby could always see the way your gaze lingered on him. Your body still, almost instinctively, while he shamelessly felt your bright blue wave in the honmoon barrier crackle with adrenaline whenever he let his human form ease a bit. The sensation was delicious, teasing, and just out of reach. He could feel it pulsing even now, tempting him. But you remained stubbornly leashed by the Huntresses. Tch. No matter. He wasn’t worried. With the plan they've agreed on, it was only a matter of time - and his gradually thinning patience until the cool blue would turn brilliant crimson. You then mirrored his "playful" smirk, pushing his arm lightly with a soft glare. "Ha. Ha. You’re so funny," you said, voice dripping in sarcasm. Baby leaned back against the pillow wedged against the headboard, posture relaxed as he grinned. “I know. I’m fuckin’ hilarious— Ack! Hey! What the fuck... was that... for..?” You'd flicked his forehead. He growled softly, reaching for the second pillow beside him, only to trail off with his words when you shifted suddenly - smoothly swinging your leg over and settling down on his lap. His head tilted back to look at you, eyes narrowing as you loomed over him with... Determination? ...What? His claws flexed, digging into the bedding beneath him. Instinct told him to throw you off. His abdomen tightened with tension, warning signals blazing. You were far too close, and he didn’t like it - didn't like how your expression was unreadable. Golden eyes flared brighter. Still, Baby didn’t act. He had a part to play, and unfortunately, that part meant he had to let some of the physical touching pass. Apparently, this was how modern couples showed... affection. Gwi-ma, he wanted to gag. He kept his face composed, barely restraining himself, giving you a sceptical look as you inhaled like you were bracing for— His hand shot out, clamping around your wrist before it could reach his left cheek. He knew exactly what you were aiming for. His mark - a jagged line like a centipede crawling from his neck to his temple, slithering beneath his shirt and connecting to the web of others across his back and stomach. “What... are you.. doing,” he asked, voice low and gravelly, each word pronounced deliberately as he locked eyes with you. To anyone else, you might’ve looked fearless. But Baby could feel the tremor in your honmoon wave. Fear and— oh? Anticipation?
HaaaH. How stupidly naive. Were you seriously getting off on this? His frown twisted into a crooked grin as he tightened his grip on your wrist - just enough to make a point. His other hand slid down to your thigh, claws grazing your clothed skin with a deliberate lightness that sent a shiver through your body. He felt it. That spark in your wavelength. The surge. He could’ve taken it - could’ve let that familiar fire devour him, choosing scorching heat over soft warmth any day - but just as he leaned in, lips parting to claim that blaze for himself- You placed your hand gently over his mouth. With that same nerve-fraying calm, you guided him back onto the pillow. What... he thought, blinking. Baby was confused - thrown off by how unreadable your wave had become. It rattled him, and his face gave it away. But instead of offering any explanation, you simply leaned closer, hair falling like a curtain around your face. The tips of your fingers trailed from his lips, down the column of his throat, settling softly where the faint glow of his marks began to appear. His focus slipped. The illusion cracked. In places he could usually hold it together, it now flickered and glitched - his control slipping as his body betrayed him. Baby hated it. Hated how he could overpower you, end you, devour your soul without effort. And yet, when the image crossed his mind and he tried to command his limbs to move- All they did was twitch. His hand tightened silently around your wrist, more a warning than an attack. His golden eyes flared, pupils narrowing to slits, claws twitching against your thigh as he watched your every move carefully. His body coiled, breath shallow, your hand sliding beneath his neck. His marks pulsed under your touch - more visible now, shining through the grey-blue tint of his skin like they were answering some silent call. It was laughable. Hysterical, even. His chest vibrated with a low, restrained cackle. His demonic body - eager, searching - called for marks that didn’t exist on you. You were human. You can't respond. And yet, his body did not seemed to get that. That's why when he saw the lack of marks, he couldn't but feel desperate - drawn in by that tender, painful warmth of your touch, but also aching to pull away from it. As if your calm was contagious, invasive. Baby gritted his teeth as you dragged your hand lower, pushing aside the collar of his shirt to reveal more of his glowing marks. He strained not to retaliate, not to lunge. You were touching him so carefully. He could’ve crushed your wrist. Should’ve dug his claws in, made you stop. But all he could do was breathe hard and watch through half-lidded eyes, your presence looming over him. You looked at him with that maddening combination of tenderness and steel, no hesitation left in your wavelength. It pulsed through the honmoon barrier. And he felt it. Your fingers traced the glowing lines across his chest, up his neck to his right cheek, and it was like you were branding him - burning him with your softness. Pathetic, he thought, as his grip slackened. His body and mind were at war. The mind screamed: They'll betray us. Leave us. But his body... Baby exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering as he hesitantly nuzzled into your palm. His pupils dilated, just for a moment. Then they narrowed again, body snapping taut as your lips pressed gently to the mark on his left collarbone. Reflex kicked in. In an instant, he overpowered you - twisting your body beneath his with a snarl that rumbled deep in his throat. He pinned your arms over your head, legs locking yours in place so you couldn’t move an inch. His glowing eyes bore down into yours, slitted and wild, fangs bared.
The adrenaline was back - shuddering through your wave, cracking against the barrier - and it made Baby feel sick to his stomach. Disgusted. Yet he let that familiar, creeping fear settle on his tongue like a meal he devoured with too much hunger. That's right… he thought, tightening his hands around your bound wrists as he leaned closer, close enough that your noses nearly brushed. His grin was mocking, laced with something darker. “Did you had your fun?” he growled low, his mind too preoccupied with his aching body to try and sound playful. He needed to get closer; his marks pulsed, desperate for yours to answer back. His grip tightened just so as he dipped lower, his eyes locked onto your face, breath warm as he brushed his lips over your right ear. “I sure didn’t,” he growled again, voice rougher now, pupils thinning into sharp slits. Yet still, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. There was no anticipation. No arousal. Your wave felt hollow - like it had vanished entirely. And that silence in your energy made the void in his chest expand until it felt unbearable. He must’ve looked insane - his lips parted in shallow gasps, golden eyes blown wide and glassy. He rose up just enough to search over your body, frantic, desperate for the familiar spark that could sear him if he dared— Baby froze. He couldn’t move. Not a muscle. Your lips were pressed with quiet certainty against the mark on the left side of his neck. Like your life wasn’t in danger. Like you weren’t human. Like he wasn’t a demon. Baby shuddered fully as you strained your neck to kiss his left cheek, right as his breath stuttered and caught. His eyes, two black moons nearly devouring the gold, stared at you like a cornered beast. He didn’t even notice when he’d loosened his hold. But he had - because suddenly your hands were cradling his face like he was something precious. He didn’t know what to do. So he let you guide him upward, both of you slowly sitting on the bed. His eyes stayed locked on you, unmoving, unblinking - as though expecting a trap. As if at any second you might hurt him. But you didn’t. Instead, you smiled. Softly. Your left hand came to rest at his neck, massaging gently, while your right traced over the demon mark. Baby realised then - every single mark across his body had begun pulsing again, glowing faintly through the fabric beneath your hands. With a sharp inhale, Baby curled his clawed hands into the sweatpants, watching you lean in. He expected a shove. A scream. A betrayal. Instead, your forehead rested softly against his, your hair mingling with his own. Your eyes were closed. His stayed open, pleading silently - end this, do something, don’t drag it out.
But what broke him were the words you whispered between the two of you, "It’s okay, baby. You’re safe here… hmm~" The name. His name. No - pet name. And the meaning behind those words was what finally made his body go lax all at once. He exhaled and let his forehead drop to your shoulder. As if the strings holding him had been cut. His body slumped against yours, heavy, drained - and you didn’t waver. You held him. You expected this. One hand slid up into his hair, the other keeping him anchored as he pressed his face deeper into your neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent that was you. A shaky exhale left him. His arms curled around you, possessive and trembling, like you were his personal plushy and he didn’t quite know what to do with it yet. Something flickered in his chest. A soft flame. And in that quiet, Baby realised two things. First… His arms tightened protectively around you as he slowly opened his eyes. That glowing gold, dimmed but determined, stared into nothing. You were not going to be taken from him. Not by the King. Not by fate. Not by anything. Baby would stand against that pathetic excuse of a King if he had to. And second… His gaze dropped to the gentle blue hue of your soul. It was being wrapped - willingly - by the bright violet threads of their shared demonic energy. With a smirk you couldn’t see, Baby lowered his clawed hand to your chest. His markings responded, pulsing at his command. He watched with near-reverence as the blue began to shift - from a gentle blue - to a sharp crimson. The once serene hue of a honmoon, now soaked in red devotion to him. His tongue traced over one fang as he trembled at the flood of emotion pouring from you - adoration, fondness, warmth. He pressed in closer and sighed in satisfaction. His other hand slipped from your back down to the mattress, touching your wave - letting it wrap around his arm and slide up his side right as he clenched his hand around it. He was ready when your body shuddered - before you collapsed into him completely. Straightening, Baby let himself fall backwards with you in his arms, landing softly against the mattress. Your dazed expression rested against his chest. Crimson line glowed gently across his marked skin, and Baby smiled, pleased. He brushed a strand of hair from your face and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Rest, my stubborn human," he whispered, "I promise I’ll be here when you wake up,” He reclined into the pillow as your eyelids fluttered, too tired to understand what had just happened.
His smile widened. As your body surrendered to sleep, his arms instinctively tightened around you. Unbeknownst to you, your forms had become woven over - your beautifully crimson wavelength, having torn itself free from the barrier, drawn to him the moment he called. Oh, you... How adorable that all it took was a flicker of vulnerability in something humans believed to be untouchable for them to give themselves over so completely. So fucking naïve~ Baby mused, his grin turning sharp as he gently caressed your cheek with a clawed hand.
