#Yoongi demon

[trivia-yandere]

if you’re still taking requests, would a NASTY yoongi x innocent reader yandere be alright? 👀 please and thank you

i havent had a yoongi request in a long time YES!! desire

you’ve managed to catch sight of an unholy being & you’re fully enthralled.

word count: 3.583

warning: smut, loss of virginity, power imbalance, demon yoongi, human/virgin/innocent reader, sex in the house of worship??, noncon/dubcon, kinda old timely bc why not??, oral sex, fingering, squirting,

alternate universe masterlist

The stained glass sparkles against your skin, the intense colors of the setting sun causing an intense hue to radiate throughout the Chapel. You’re kneeling against the wooden floor, head bowed with your hands raised and clasped together. You’re murmuring soft words that are only audible to you - as you are alone.

Being in here, alone, was blissful to you. There was no chatter from other members of the Chapel and the stares of scrutiny of some. Just you and your devotion to the higher being you all prayed to - and that’s all that mattered. 

Without warning, your lips stop moving, your praying dying down on silent lips. You’re able to open your eyes, but your body is still. Stiff.

Paralyzed.

Your heartbeat quickens as you attempt to move your body, but cannot. Your breathing becomes rapid, your chest rising and falling, yet somehow it’s as though you’ve come unable to move so suddenly that it confuses you entirely.

Your eyes focus ahead of you as footsteps dance across the hardwood floor. The Chapel is decades old so said footsteps creak against them. Your eyes move slowly, first finding the shiny black boots, clear of any blemishes or dirt. They make their way closer and closer to you, slowly yet so rapidly in your siff position.

Your eyes slide up the dark-suited legs, to meet the matching suit jacket until you reach his face. Your heartbeat quickens at the sight of the unknown man, so beautifully sculptured that it causes you to gasp inaudibly. He appears to be glowing, but you ponder if that was his aura or the glow of the setting sun behind him and right outside the stained glass Chapel.

The man's eyes are so dark and it matches his bouncing hair, so soft appearing. His skin appears smooth, yet also like glass and it glistens like that of the stained glass - so much so, that you begin to believe that he wasn’t real. That this was some sort of paralysis you were experiencing for being inside the Chapel for too long. You were tired, after all, but your faith hadn’t allowed you to go home without visiting.

Your rosary lays right around your neck and it suddenly feels so heavy as the man approaches you. He kneels right in front of you, his eyes now looking right at you. He examines you, his eyes dancing around your face to take in your features, down to your attire you wore. You want to swallow, but even that you cannot do, and your throat feels as though you should cough to fix the ache in it.

Your heart does another jolt when the man’s already dark eyes grow even darker, his entire eye turning completely black, before reverting back so fast that you believe as though your mind is playing tricks with you.

You’re unable to close your eyes, but your mind still works. You’re reciting prayers mentally, praying for whatever being in front of you to not hurt you in the slightest - asking for grand protection from a being who you aren’t sure has even answered your prayer.

“Quiet.” the man speaks in a voice so velvety that it makes your mind do just that - it’s blank. You could only focus on the beautiful man in front of you.

You’re unsure how you’re still able to breathe with how paralyzed you are. Your heart pounds  loudly in your chest that you’re positive that it’s booming off of the Chapel’s walls. 

The longer you stare at the man and vice versa, the more you find yourself longing for him. To touch him and feel his glass-like skin in your palm. To inhale his scent that you can already smell as musky and woody, but overall clean.

You want to beg for forgiveness for the more sinful thoughts that come - ones you’ve never thought about before. Would the Creator strike you down here and now for thinking such things in his home? Could you be put to blame as it appeared your mind was under some sort of spell - a curse even?

This man didn’t belong here, you concluded, he couldn’t have. He was far too beautiful for this world, and for a moment you think that he was one of the guardians from above you’ve heard stories about since your childhood. But his eyes appear to be deep vessels from another world entirely, and you understand that he could not be from this realm - or any one that you’d associate with.

“You’re afraid, little one.” the man speaks, a scoff releasing from such rosy lips. “That’s good.”

Your body moves, but not due to your own movement. Your back slams against the hardwood floor, your eyes forced to look upward at the high ceilings of the Chapel. If you were afraid then, you’re terrified now.

You don’t see the man initially, and it’s as though he’s so close to you. His words ring through your ears so loudly and you can even feel the warmth that his breath would make against your skin as if he was right beside you.

“I want you to fear me, little one. Fear what I could do to you.” the man says. 

Your clothing began to tear, as if clawed straight from your body. The air is cool and the new sensation against your skin causes you to shiver. The hair on your body stands as goosebumps erupt throughout.

“Your fear excites me.”

Your bounding heart and glossy eyes continue as you feel your clothing rip to shreds by the being you cannot see. His voice, however, is so dark. So deep and sensual, full of lust that is forbidden to you in this sacred house of the Creator.

“What does your mind think of when you kneel, little one?” 

You’re able to gasp now, and you do. Slowly, you’re regaining your senses. You let out shaky pants, chest continuing to rise and fall.

“Does your Creator know you think so lustfully?”

You let out another gasp, this time of pure shock. “N-No!” you muster out. It was one of the hardest things you’ve done so far. You’re unsure how you managed to find the words to speak while in this state, but you do. “T-That’s…bl-lasphemy!”

You hear an animalistic growl, followed by a tug of your undergarments - the only thing covering the rest of your dignity.

You feel a sharp pain in your hips. It’s as if it’s small needles peeling into your skin, dragging ever so slowly down until they reach your thigh - was it him? The being was doing this to you?

“Oh how I love your innocence, little one.” the man chuckles, that sensual tone in his voice that causes something in you to stur. “You feel it, don’t you, little human?” the being taunts, knowing full well where that tone shoots to. “The blasphemous desire soaring through your veins. How you’ve told yourself you are devoted to the Creator and only the Creator and yet…”

You yelp when your legs are torn apart. You cry out for no one in particular - there wasn’t anyone who could save you from this being.

“Your cunt is glistening in the sunset for me and me alone, little one.” the man chuckles so darkly, as if your distress is highly humorous for him. He speaks so vulgarly - so filthy that these words cause your own body to warm. 

“Please.”

The man scoffs at your attempts of pleas. It wasn’t going to go anywhere - unless it was your pleas of him to continue further.

You finally see the man once more. His steps come closer and closer until he’s hovering right above you. He looks down upon you with such darkness in his eyes.

And yet…

Your pumping heart seems to race more at the sight of such a beautiful man - so angelic even. Your mind races to understand just what this being was who spoke so vulgarly to you. This wasn’t anything the Creator has made surely.

“What were you praying for, little one?” the man questions you, a flicker of darkness, like before,�� covers his eyes. 

Ever so slowly, unless your mind was beginning to play tricks upon you once more, the man kneels down in front of you. His eyes don’t leave yours, and you’re finding it hard for your eyes to do the same.

“Were you praying away the sinful thoughts that plague your mind?”

His hands are on you. Fingers lightly drag along your prickled skin, causing shivers to run over your body. Your nipples are hardened, an uncomfortable feeling that only someone like him could cause.

“In hopes that you would be forgiven by the Creator…?” the man continues.

You gasp when your naked breast is cupped by his larger hands. Your eyes break the eye contact with him to watch, as if outside your own body, the way his hands cup your breast, a thumb against your hardened nipple. He rubs it gently beneath his thumb, an action that shoots down your stomach and straight to your core. 

Your mouth salivates - how could something so wrong feel so right? Especially by a being such as him, not molded by the light and graciousness of the Creator? The touch alone causes a fire to ignite deep within you.

The man lowers his head, all the while watching your reaction. His tongue, pink and hooked, wrapped around your nipple entirely. Your mouth falls open in pure shock as he suckles on your erect buds.

Your stomach sucks in as your breath hitches, your eyes widening. You want to push him away and off of you - you didn’t want this. You didn’t want anything to do with this being, but you couldn’t move. Whatever spell he had you under has left you completely paralyzed, unable to move much.

Your body was going through changes that you’ve never experienced - the shuddering, a chill running down your spine. Yet your body was so hot that you swore your blood was boiling. There’s pleasure flowing through you from his warm tongue, flickering and tugging at your bud, felt entirely wrong.

The being makes no attempt to stop. Instead, he moves onto your next breast, He is quick to suck, his hands - so large and veiny - grip at your free breast. His thumb rubs along your perky nipple, a groan coming from his throat as he continues to suckle.

You’re able to let out a breathy moan, your eyes slowly closing - you didn’t want to enjoy this. Your body was feeling far too different and slowly, without initial warning, your body began to move. Your naked thighs twitch until they’re rubbing together.

Your nipple popped from the being’s mouth. 

“I can smell you, little one.” 

Eyes stare at the way the man’s tongue trails between your breast, to down your stomach. Your hands ball into fist, unable to remove your eyes from the lewd scene. This man wasn’t human, and though you’ve known this already, it’s still an eye-opener. Something that appears so human, yet so majestically beautiful can simply not be. You’ve heard stories of those who come from deep beneath the earth and yet…

There’s the familiar warmth upon your thighs as your legs are pried open. You gasp, and without much time to prepare yourself, the being’s tongue is right at your core.

Your head falls back, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. His left hand is against our thigh, caress it gently - a rarity for something like him you’re sure. His head bobs back and forth, his tongue inching deeper and deeper. 

The being doesn’t intend on being quiet, suckling and smacking loudly. It echoes off of the walls of the chapel, the colored stained glass draws figures off of your naked skin.

Your mind goes blank, unsure of what you were doing prior to the being between your legs. It had to be his doing, you think. You’re unable to contain the soft moans that spill from your mouth.

“P…Please-”

Your breathing increases when there’s pressure at your hole, more unfamiliar than the tongue against your clit.

The being doesn’t listen to your pleas - were you asking him to stop or to keep on?

His fingers begin to enter you, your walls entirely too tight that he understands that you’re going to be his favorite human thus far. The feeling is uncomfortable at first, so foreign. But, as the man begins to thrust, you find that it was all too much to deal with.

“Stop!”

Yoongi removes his mouth from your throbbing clit, his dark eyes watching you. Your chest is rising and falling at such a rapid pace. He can hear how rapid your heartbeat is racing, and yet he also can smell just how excited you are. He can hear your mind - how doubtful you are in enjoying the pleasure. How you’re fighting yourself to push him away, but you can’t.

“You’re such a mess.”

His fingers are so long, his pace quickening. He doesn’t allow your thighs to close as you intend, admiring the way your cunt takes his pumping fingers. So tight and virgineous, he thinks, completely innocent. Slowly, ever so slowly, does said innocence begin to drift. Your glow surrounding your humanly body begins to damp as you lay with him, a demon.

You bite your lip as a pressure builds deep within you, the corner of your eyes forming tears. Your legs are twitching. You feel as though if you don’t get him to stop, you are going to explode.

Yoongi knows what you’re truly going through - the pleasure becoming so overwhelming that you cannot focus on anything else. The way your thighs are quivering with overstimulation due to his pumping fingers, your bleeding lips caused by your teeth sinking into them. It was all too much to bear - and he’d have it no other way.

Yoongi doesn’t release his fingers until there’s a puddle on the wooden floor, the pressure you’ve built up shooting right out of you filthily. 

Your hands unclench, unaware of the blood that sticks to your palms. Your eyes slowly closed, but all you could see was him - the hellish being. You wanted to pray for it all to be over with, but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but him, especially not a prayer.

“You,”

Your head begins to ring, a slight buzzing sound clouding your ears.

“are coming with me.”

You squeeze your eyes tighter, doing everything you could to think of a prayer that could get you out of this predicament. However, all you could hear was him - even in your thoughts. He occupied every inch of your brain, the buzzing sound only growing louder and louder.

Your eyes snap open when you feel your body yanked. Your knees hit the wooden floor, your face slamming against it. Your legs are forced apart once more and this time, you let out a loud shriek - you knew what was going to happen next.

“Please-”

“I should leave my mark on you, little human, so whatever God you pray to knows just who you belong to.”

You feel him against your clit, both of his hands tightly against your waist. His nails dig into your skin sharply, keeping you right in place. Your own dig into the floor, scrapping slightly.

“That no matter what, they cannot have you.”

The familiar pressure of before returns, only you had no time to prepare for it. He enters you in one quick movement. Pain shoots throughout your body, your throat releasing yet another shriek.

Yoongi doesn’t intend on going easy on you. His hips snap, his cock stretching your tight hole in ways that it shouldn’t. His large hands hold you in place so you cannot move from him, drawing his cock deeper and deeper inside of you.

The tears fall freely from your eyes now, the pain only growing worse by each punishing thrust. This wasn’t allowed - not while you were unwed. Not while you were in the chapel. You pondered why this was happening to you out of all people; had you sinned so greatly that the Creator was punishing you?

“It hurts now,” the being speaks, quickening his thrusts. The disgusting sounds of your pussy is music to his ears, how squelching wet you are, innocent pussy wrapping around him so tightly that it was driving even something like him crazy. “but soon you’ll enjoy it.”

You didn’t want to enjoy it. It took another 10 minutes for you to feel the pleasure bubbling in your stomach. For your thighs to, unknowingly, part further to allow more of him. That your tears had dried and you were moaning.

You didn’t want to enjoy this - but you did. Your pussy leaks with pleasure and lust, coating the wooden chapel floors with your arousal. The sun is nearly setting, but Yoongi doesn’t intend on stopping.

A hand wraps around your neck and furiously yanks you back. You gasp when the hand tightens around your throat, clasping it. Sharp nails dig into your soft flesh and you were finding it hard to breathe.

“Ah-” you gasp, your pussy tightening around his cock. Your breast bounces rapidly, the being having great stamina. Your own hands go to your throat in an attempt to pry him off of you, but of course he’s stronger.

You pondered how long you and he were in here - if anyone would come and find you. Or maybe this was a dream. Maybe this was something your mind fantasized about and you’d soon wake up from it all in a puddle of your own lust.

Something warm fills you, your breathing quickening as you attempt to find air. Your hand clings onto the man's larger ones as the unfamiliar liquid fills you. It’s so much that you can feel it trickle down your thighs. Your eyesight grows hazy, your hands relaxed. You were sure you were going to die right here - in the hands of this unknown being.

Your glow, Yoongi notes, was slowly fading. To think that it didn’t take long for the Creator to give up on his greatest creations. The human realm was so much fun to roam around - so much havoc to wreck.

Air fills your lungs as you drop to the floor. You don’t manage to catch yourself. Your body is trembling with both pain and pleasure while your lungs are gasping to get your breathing under control.

Yoongi watches you as he pulls his pants up. He almost wants to laugh at how pathetic you are - how naive to think that the Creator would come off of his throne and save you. If only you knew of the plague that happened to humankind because of the Creator's actions years ago.

“In due time…” Yoongi states aloud, not truly speaking with you. “Little one,” he then hums, kneeling down to your trembling frame. “I’ve grown fascinated with you humans and your little beliefs.”

You’re in a fetal position, your head turning to the sound of his voice. Your eyes are unblinking as you stare into his eyes - such cold eyes that causes your heart to jump.

“So naive to think that there’s a higher being that gives a damn about you.” the man continues, a calloused hand lightly touching your cheek.

“What are you?”

You’re bold enough to ask now, but Yoongi knows you’ve wanted to question him since the beginning, he was just permitting you to do so now.

Yoongi’s lips twitch. “Whatever you think I am.” he murmurs a reply. “You humans get on your knees and pray to a higher power…not knowing just what exactly you're praying to.”

You’re unable to take your eyes off of him and your mind is telling you it’s because of him; whatever spell this being has you under.

“You humans do not realize that even the devil answers prayers…” the man trails off, his thumb tracing your lips. That glow you had surrounding you is gone quicker than he thought. He wants to laugh at how quick you were dropped from the Creator's graces for actions that were not your own.

Nonetheless, Yoongi finds that the human realm is fascinating in how incredibly naive they were.

“Do you want to come with me?”

You bite your tongue, eyes widening.

“Don’t look so frightened, little one. This realm,” Yoongi explains, removing his warm hand from your cheek to wave it around the Chapel - or whatever realm he was speaking of. “is going to be destroyed soon. A plague is coming…”

Yoongi snorts - and his name was Jungkook, another being like himself that has been wreaking havoc for centuries now to spite the Creator in the Heavens. 

“...but you can come with me willingly. You’ll be safe.”

You were warned about this before - about accepting offers such as this. You were told there were beings that would trick you into sinning and to reject their advances.

How far you have fallen, you think, that your mind wasn’t your own now and all you can think about is being with this mysterious being-

“Yoongi.”

Your heart begins to slow back to a normal beat.

“My name is Yoongi, little one.” Yoongi murmurs, a smirk forming onto his lips. The human race was truly fascinating. “And I cannot wait to have you all to myself. You’re going to love the Underworld, little one.”

You were going to hate having to die to get there, however.

@sweetempathprunetree @investedreader @darkuni63 @minshookie29 @momnomnom @whothefuckisthishoe @mar-lo-pap

a tale of two sinners (jungkook) version coming soon

[that-one-girl2020]

Hello :3

Can you saja boys x rumi sisters skit

Where she gets collab with other boy group and the saja boys getting jealous hehe

Seething

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader

A/N: If you guys can not guess my bias by the end of this then I will be very disappointed in you. This is a combination of a few requests I’ve gotten because a lot of people wanna see jealous Saja Boys apparently.

Synopsis: You have debuted as a solo artist and that’s great! Especially since you’re getting so many offers for different projects and collabs now. But not when it pulls your attention from your boys, who begin to quietly seethe.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the songs and have no relation to the media references I use in my works!

CW: Jealousy, possessiveness, cursing, use of ‘Oppa,’ not much else…? (Lemme know if I left anything out)

Word Count: 2.2k

Master List || KPDH Series || RR Series

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)

You were very excited.

You didn’t realize it when you first debuted, but it turns out that as a solo artist, it was easier for you to collaborate with other artists, groups, and projects. It was much easier for your schedule to be worked around instead of having to work around the schedule for a group. Therefore, you were surprised but ecstatic at all the offers for collaborations, movie roles, voice overs, and guest appearances.

But you were especially excited for this one. You and another artist had been approached by Blizzard Entertainment to produce a song for the release of their game, Diablo IV. Which led to a lot of time being spent with the artist you were collaborating with. Min Yoongi, aka, Suga of BTS.

You had briefly met Yoongi before when you were doing visuals for Huntr/x, the two groups having collaborated once. They got along, they were still in touch even now, but you had been part of the background at the time. So imagine your surprise when Yoongi remembered you during the first introductory meeting between your two teams.

After that, all your meetings were just the two of you. And when you had told the man that you had never played the game before, only watched some play through videos on YouTube to get a feel for it, he had immediately sat you down to at least play through the first one with him. It was surprising how well you and the quiet, introspective man got along.

Meanwhile, the boys weren’t very happy. Well, they were and they weren’t.

They were happy that you were getting so many job offers and growing your career, of course. They were so proud of you, they were your biggest fans—no matter what the girls said. But you were also spending way too much time on this collaboration, in their opinion.

You still came back to the apartment most nights, the ones you didn’t spend at the Tower, and you still cuddled with them and ate with them and went on dates with them when you had the free time. It was just that when you weren’t working on the collaboration, you were talking about how nice Yoongi was, how he brought you a drink that he knew you liked, how he was so great at writing music, and how his gummy smile was cute.

It was getting to be a bit much. The boys had taken to just kissing you to make you shut up or crossing their arms and pouting.

They had even tried to convince Bobby to let them go with you to film your music video in Europe but Bobby put his foot down and even took away their private jet privileges. And the girls’ too for good measure.

So they had no idea what to expect when the music video finally did drop. They were of course having a watch party, the YouTube screen slowly counting down as they gathered in the living area of the Tower.

“Oh, this is gonna be so good!” Zoey cheered, sitting in between her girlfriends with an oversized bowl of popcorn and candy.

“I’ve seen some beta videos, so I’m expecting this to be freaking sick,” Mira grabbed a handful, popping some into her mouth.

Rumi nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, if this is anywhere near the quality of her other music videos, then this is gonna be a cinematic masterpiece.” Rumi looked down when the boys didn’t say anything. They were all curled tightly around you, Kwan behind you, Jum and Chungae clinging to your arms, and Jinu and Hyeon on your legs. “You guys good…?”

“I can’t feel my anything,” You remarked bluntly but in acceptance. You weren’t moving an inch if they had any say in it.

The boys were quiet, stewing.

“Oh, hush, hush, hush! It’s starting!” Zoey bounced, grabbing at her girlfriends in her excitement.

You scoffed playfully as the boys perked up, “What, it’s my song and I can’t even talk—“

“Shhhhh!” Eight different people hushed you.

“Okay then…”

“The more that you have, the more that they take~”

The girls vigorously crunched down on snacks, their eyes glued to the screen as it opened on a foggy church as a bell rang. Then it cut to you inside the church, dressed in a black cloak with dark makeup. The boys swallowed thickly at just seeing your face in the dark makeup they had never seen you in before. It wasn’t carefully done, it wasn’t neat or elegant, no this was the type of makeup that could be called war paint.

“Well, I'm perfection when it comes to indiscretion~ Might fuck around and just succumb to my aggression~ I taste blood and it’s turned to an obsession~ Baby, I'm confessin', yeah~ You got me thinkin' that I was too mean~ Well, everything that I say, I believe~ Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve~ And change like a season, reason for nothin'~ I am disruptive, I've been corrupted~ And by now, I don't need a fuckin' introduction~ I've been gone 'cause I been on this road too long~”

And then you walked through a cloud of smoke, thick and black, and all the candles blew out around you, leaving you in darkness and the cloak around your shoulders fell.

The boys stiffened at the sight of you on screen. It was a battle outfit but not like the ones the girls wore when demon hunting—though there were elements that were similar. No, this was black leather that barely covered, thigh high heels that made your legs look like they went on for miles, golden plating in just some areas that accentuated the softness of your skin, and a sword in hand that looked ready for blood.

They held you tighter, their eyes locked on the screen, your voice filling their ears as wounds appeared on your body and you kept going despite it.

“You know I get too caught up in a moment~ I can't call it love if I show it~ I just fuck things up if you noticed~ Have you noticed? Tell me, have you noticed?~ I get too caught up in a moment~ I can't fall in love if I show it~ I just fuck things up if you noticed~ Have you noticed? Tell me, have you noticed?~”

You were mindlessly bobbing your head to the song, appreciating how well it had all turned out, all the time and work you had spent with Yoongi—though it didn’t much feel like work. You could feel that the boys were slowly tensing more and more, but it didn’t really register in your mind yet.

The lyrics reached into the five boys, like all your music did, like your voice did effortlessly. Drawing them to you. This side of you that the camera had captured was a side of you they hadn’t seen since the confrontation with Gwi Ma and they drank the sight in as if it were the last sip of water on the planet.

And then hints of him began peeking through a black fog.

“I got a problem doin' things I'm not supposed to~ But you did anything I told you~ 'Cause you'd let anybody with a body control you~ And you know it, too~ You got me feelin' like I been too mean~ And everything that I say, I believe~ Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve~ And fuck like a demon, do it like nothin'~ I am disgustin', I've been corrupted~ And by now, I don't need no help to be destructive~ I've been gone, yeah, I been on this road too long~”

The boys went completely stiff when out of the darkness, Yoongi came, wearing a black cloak as he circled around you, the water at your feet rippling as you turned your head to follow him.

“I know you get too caught up in a moment~ You can't call it love if you show it~ We just fuck things up, yeah, I noticed~ Yeah, I noticed, hear me? Yeah, I noticed~ Step out of the moment~ That's been trappin' you in all this negativity of hatred and insanity~ Don't dwell on the past, it's time to make a change~ Look around, believe in what you see, I have returned to Hell~”

The two of you sang, circling each other as invisible blows continued to rain down on the two of you. Yoongi’s hand rose, brushing your hair back, his fingers grazing your cheek. And then, together, you continued your journey to the heart of the church.

The boys couldn’t help how their teeth ground, their fingers twitching on your skin with the urge to grab you and leave their marks on your flesh—with their fingers or their lips. Their eyes were wide open but their pupils were shrunk as they watched the video with a manic intensity. Your demon side was exclusively for them or your rage. They were not selfless enough to share that side of you with anyone else.

“You know I get too caught up in a moment~ I can't call it love if I show it~ I just fuck things up if you noticed~ Have you noticed? Tell me, have you noticed?~ I get too caught up in a moment~ I can't fall in love 'cause I'm focused~ I just fuck things up if you noticed~ Have you noticed? Tell me, have you noticed?~”

Yoongi nodded at you and you nodded solemnly back at him. You had to finish your journey on your own. He faded back into the shadows, pulling the hood of his cloak up as he did.

You approached the dais of the church, covered in lit candles and rose petals. You knelt and offered your sword, your body bloodied and wounded but still strong. The camera flickered to the paintings on the wall and ceiling, a female demon looking back at you.

“The more that you give away~ The more that you have~ More that you give away~ More that you have~ The more that you give away~ The more that you have, the more that they take~”

Your demon form flickered on screen for the briefest moment and then went black.

“Holy… shit. That was awesome,” Mira spoke first after a long moment of silence. Rumi’s jaw was hanging open, looking between you and the blank screen.

Zoey clapped, reaching through the throng of boys to shake your shoulders, “It was! The music and the lyrics were so hot and the imagery were awesome!”

You smiled, a bit flustered at hearing your song praised so blatantly, but you were slowly getting used to it as you released more music. “Thanks… I’ve been sitting on some of those lyrics for a little while but Yoongi was the one who really pulled it all together. He’s so awesome…”

“(Y/n)?”

Oh no. Were you in trouble? You looked down at Jinu who hadn’t turned from the blank screen to look at you. “Yeah…?”

“Are you saying that you’ve had that song in the works and you didn’t bring it to us?” Jinu asked blankly.

You didn’t know where this was going. “Uh, yeah…? Well, just a few bits of the lyrics—Yoongi helped fill in the holes and really make it hit.”

“And,” Kwan added from behind you. You turned your head to try and see his expression but all you could see was the faint glow of his eyes. “He got to see you like that in person?”

You were slightly concerned now. For both them and yourself. “Yeah. We had to film together…”

“And you let him touch you?” Chungae asked darkly.

You were tempted to run but you knew you wouldn’t get far. “The director told us to…”

“You were gone for two days,” Jum noted, leaning closer to your face. His eyes were also glowing amber. “Did you let him treat you to dinner…? Spend time together after filming…?”

You stuttered, starting to get overwhelmed by the interrogation as you started feeling more and more like you were in trouble with your boyfriends for some reason. “U-uh, I, Yeah…? H-he’s my Oppa…?”

The boys were quiet. You fucked up, didn’t you.

“And we’re not?” Hyeon rumbled, his chest vibrating with the growl that came from the back of his throat.

Jinu finally turned his head, looking at you and you swallowed at the dark look in his glowing eyes. His gaze didn’t falter for a moment as he said, “We’re going now. Bye girls.”

And then the six of you were gone in a puff of smoke.

~~~

The next time you saw Yoongi, he had invited you to play video games with him and his group members. The boys had decided to come with you so you had texted Yoongi ahead of time and he had said it was fine.

Yoongi opened the door and gave you his usual tired look, “Hey, (Y/n), come on in.” He was kind enough to ignore the marks on your shoulders and neck that were mostly covered with makeup.

“Hi Yoongi, thanks again for inviting me,” You bowed lightly, handing over the bag of snacks you had brought. “I didn’t know what everyone would like so I grabbed a lot. These are my boyfriends.”

Yoongi nodded, “Ah, right, nice to meet you guys,” Yoongi waved, shaking their hands. “She talks a lot about you guys.”

“Oppa…” You whined lowly.

He shrugged unapologetically, smirking, “It’s true. Come on in.” He wandered back into the depths of the house as you all took your shoes off.

The boys were kind of flabbergasted, looking at you with surprise. You shrugged, slipping your shoes off, “If you guys had talked to me, I would’ve told you that there wasn’t a reason to be jealous but you guys suck at communicating…” You tilted your head in thought. “Not that I’m really complaining much.”

You followed after Yoongi and your five idiots trailed after you sheepishly. They had been fully prepared to go full territorial cavemen while they were there if they had to. Now all those plans just slipped down the drain.

A/N: This is the first time I’ve written Yoongi’s personality so that’s why I didn’t have much interactions written. I also took some creative liberties with the MV because they’re both from Korea and can go to an international shoot together instead of filming in two different locations.

Yes there will be a part 2 where you guys get to see what the Saja Boys do when they take you to the apartment.

Outtakes:

*After the Poly Pride left*

Mira: “Welp, R.I.P. (Y/n)’s coochie, I guess.”

Zoey: *concerned* “Do you think she’ll be okay…?”

Rumi: *shrugs* “Eh, she’ll be here tomorrow for all our ice packs.”

…

*While you and Suga are working*

Saja Simps: “What do you think they’re doing?” “He’s probably sitting next to her, their legs touching so he can show her something on his computer…” “Or they’re at some cafe and he’s treating her to lunch…” “Maybe they’re in the sound booth, sharing the same microphone…” “What if he’s touching her shoulder?!” “AHHHHH!”

You and Yoongi: *playing the hand slap game* *giggling like children*

…

You: *in your demon form for a brief second of filming*

Bobby: “Oh. My. Gosh. You look awesome! Who did your makeup?! It looks so real!”

Yoongi: *nodding his head* “Nice.”

You: *Sweating* “Oh. I, uh, did it myself…?”

Yoongi: “You don’t seem too sure there.”

You: *nervous laughter*

…

You: *basically no self esteem with lots of insecurity* “There’s no way my demonic, selfish, greedy boyfriends could ever be jealous in anyway.”

Also You: *to another man* “Oppa.”

Saja Simps: *feral growling, salivating with rage, basically barking at the man*

…

Tag List: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom

[deliwrites]

And how could I forget Min Yoongi looking almost exactly like Baby Saja 😜

[alvie-pines]

real idols that look like the saja boys >>>

Jinu — Song Mingi of ATEEZ

Abby — Jeon Jungkook of BTS

Romance — Lee Felix of Stray Kids

Mystery — Kang Daesung of BIGBANG

Baby — Min Yoongi of BTS

[italovision]

My live-action Saja Boys from the amazing "KPOP Demon Hunters"

[urf4vghoul]

Who I see KPDH as...

[itscuntingseason]

watched kpop demon hunters last night and ok am i actually losing my mind or is baby saja just supposed to be minthaired yoongi. he literally acts exactly like him and even kinda sounded like him. i'm not even an army anymore but the animators HAD to have had minthaired run era yoongi on the moodboard for his character.

[letthehatersbark]

My obviously galaxy brained take on the irl Saja Boys

[bluecamino]

under the eye; yoongi (pt. 1/4)

a bluecamino © fanfic

when you're hired to design and style bts' anticipated comeback, you discover the members' powers goes far beyond their lives as influential idols...

ft. demon!min yoongi x f!reader: saja boys!au, stylist!reader, demonic elements, angst/dark romance, more warnings to come w/c: 1.4k

---

Your heart skips a beat as the elevator dings, bringing you to your destination: floor seven of the most successful music company in South Korea and home to the renowned boy band BTS. It’s all glass walls, vaulted ceilings, and shiny marble floors. The building reeks of fame.

Time is money, you remind yourself, hurrying your pace down the hall to find the meeting room. Today is your first -- and potentially last -- day on the job, so you intend to make the most of it. The management sought you out on their own, impressed by your previous work with Selene, an indie singer-songwriter who rose to stardom after a hit song. You’d been her stylist, the collaboration built on an acquaintance made in art school years ago. It was your visual concept behind her MV that put you on the map. Brands, magazines, and celebrities were desperate for access to your cutting-edge ideas, something that was just as much of a curse as it was a blessing. 

Still, turning down BTS would’ve been out of the question.

You’re just about to reach the meeting room when you hear an echoing melody of voices to your right. It stops you dead in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat once more. Approaching the door, you peek through the small window pane that gives you a glimpse inside. BTS are seated casually on high stools with sheet music propped in front of them. Their vocal teacher is watching, head lulling side to side with the tune, entranced by the same melody that seems to be drawing you closer -- demanding you closer. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for the doorknob and take a step. The air is heavy as you enter, their capellas whispering sweet words like those of a lullaby.

Your eyes drag across each member as they take turns singing, until your gaze stops on him. Yoongi inhales sharply before he begins the rap verse. It’s a song you’ve never heard -- probably unreleased -- but there’s a sense of familiarity in it, like he’s reciting something from a dream you forgot. It’s harsh and cold, sending a shiver up your spine. 

What am I doing here? you think, cheeks warming with embarrassment. This is a complete invasion of privacy.

When you glance around at the staff, you’re relieved to see none of them have noticed your presence. They’re all consumed by watching the idols sing, as if they couldn’t bear to look away. You take advantage of the distraction to slowly step backward, hoping to make it to the door before the last verse. You reach blindly for the knob, finally turning to twist and shove it open. Even in your haste, you spare one last look and regret it instantly when that same cold shiver rolls through you. Yoongi’s eyes are dead set on yours. His smirk makes it clear he’s caught you.

You don’t waste another second, practically stumbling over your own feet as you rush out.

How could that be my first impression? You sigh in disbelief over your stupidity as you reroute back to the meeting room, glancing down at your watch as you do. There are only a few minutes left to sit down and organize your presentation. Silent curses echo in your head as you find a seat at the large table, setting down your tablet and organizing the files in front of you.

Groups are entering now, tailed by executives, choreographers, directors, music producers, and all of the rest. And then you see them. BTS enters one by one, and the entire room falls silent. Everyone’s heads instinctively bow, as if in a show of reverence. That thick tension from the rehearsal room returns.

RM nods at one of the managers across the table. “Begin,” he states, simply.

The man jumps to his feet, as if prodded by an electric current. He consults the producers and choreographers for updates on the comeback preparations and they go down the line, giving concise summaries of their accomplishments and the final tasks that need finishing. Each stops and stares at the idols, awaiting their validation. All they get are basic responses from RM: “good,” “continue,” or “that’s enough.”

Your pulse flutters when you realize you’re next. With sweaty hands, you swipe through your tablet, preparing to broadcast your visual aids onto the large screen at the front of the room. The stylist to your left finishes their presentation -- a slideshow of boyish, pastel garments from a recent spring collection. The idols grimace through it. You can tell RM especially is displeased when he replies with a mere “okay,” and moves his gaze to you. 

Now. This is it. 

You take a deep breath and stand, straightening yourself and projecting your images onto the screen.

After a brief introduction, you begin swiping through the slides: couture pieces and collages of aesthetics that you’ve tirelessly sourced for your original concept. The pitch could heavily sway the direction of their wardrobe for the entire comeback -- music video, promotional photoshoots, even the M! Countdown and Inkigayo stage costumes. Everything is riding on this moment.

When you reach the last slide, your eyes scan the faces of the creative directors and executives, checking for any sign of displeasure or engagement. Before they can express their thoughts, you’re interrupted by a deep voice.

“This is it. This is the one,” Yoongi decides, his tone finite.

You turn to look at him, finding him nodding at the screen. Almost instantly, the management mimics the motion, and the creative directors quickly follow suit.

An executive confirms his decision, telling you, “You will be the lead stylist for this comeback.”

You bow to each idol with a humble thanks, your eyes landing on Yoongi last. Goosebumps rise on your arms. He’s completely unreadable. His dark hair falls just around his eyes, a sharp contrast to his pale skin. You’re grateful for the opportunity to descend back into your seat. It seems your poor first impression hadn’t had too much of an effect on him.

The meeting ends when RM stands, gives a short “thank you,” and heads to the door. The rest of the group follows neatly behind him. No one makes a sound until the door shuts, and then everyone rises at once, gathering their things to leave. You can’t help but sit there, stunned, as you watch them leave. In all of your time in the industry, you had never seen a company hierarchy like this. Were the idols really superior to their executives? And the way their every word was the final say… Something about it was so strange.

You decide to chalk it up to the group’s financial success and global fame. They did put the company on the map, after all.

You’re the last to collect your things and head out the door, only to find a surprising figure standing right outside, almost as if he’d been waiting for you to appear.

“Y/N,” Yoongi says, standing in the middle of the hall to block your path. 

His hands are in his pocket, his eyes reflecting their nonchalance as they scan you upward, finally landing on your face. You feel like you’re being examined, like he sees right through you. You instinctively clutch your bag closer to your body as you wait for him to say something. Maybe he’ll scold you for walking in on their rehearsal unannounced -- or make a comment about his preferences for the wardrobe. But a moment passes and he’s still just staring, quiet.

“Thank you for choosing me,” you blurt out, bowing again and hoping to break the silence.

“Do we know each other?” he suddenly asks.

A flash of confusion crosses your face as you straighten, hesitating for a moment.

“Uh- no. It’s my first day,” you awkwardly reply, glancing around the hall to make sure he’s not addressing someone else. “Maybe you saw me in that interview with Vogue: Korea? When I dressed Selene?”

Another bout of silence hangs in the air, his expression still unreadable as you wait for any indication of his acknowledgement. His eyes finally flicker away from your face as he glances toward the empty wall on your left. His nostrils flare in a deep inhale before he nods. You try to speak again, to thank him, but he turns suddenly on his feet and walks down the hall. He’s already in the elevator by the time you blink and exhale.

[jungshookz]

yoongi's getting a lot of attention at the mall and y/n doesn't like it very much

➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; all of the usual demon!yoongi antics & a little more :-)

➺ wordcount; 1.8k

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

something is… off.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is off and you can quite literally feel it in the air

“do you think navy blue washes me out?” jungkook holds a shirt up to show you before pursing his lips, waving his hand in your face when he doesn’t get a response from you, “helloooo-“ you guys came to the mall today to do some shopping but for the last ten minutes you’ve been distracted by something which isn’t helpful to jungkook because he values your opinion when it comes to his style!

“you look great in navy blue and that’s a good shirt for summer, linen is a great material-“ you hold a finger up, turning your head slightly, “do you hear giggling?”

jungkook frowns, shaking his head slightly before looking in the same direction you are, “…no. i just hear generic pop music coming out of a set of shitty speakers- hey, do you think these stores play these songs on purpose so that you’ll shop faster and leave faster?”

“uh-huh, gimme a sec, kook-“ you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek before spinning around to face the exit, “where did you say yoongi went?”

“oh! he went to get some pretzel bites, i think.”

you weave in between the racks of clothes smoothly, your

your nose twitches as you pick up on the faint scent of yoongi’s cologne and cinnamon sugar (your favourite flavour for pretzel bites, of course) and you step out of the store, your eyes narrowing in suspicion when you spot yoongi heading in your direction

the black button-down he's got on hangs nicely on his frame and as he reaches up with his free hand to push his dark hair back, head tilting as a lopsided smirk makes its way onto his face when he spots you, “did you miss me so much that you had to come out and greet me? i was only gone for like ten minutes.”

you don’t respond, getting up on your tip toes to look over his shoulder only to notice that almost everyone is looking at yoongi, people pausing in the middle of what they’re doing to stare at him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks

“what the hell…?” you don’t know how yoongi hasn’t noticed the fact that he has people drooling over him, and your face scrunches slightly when you see someone cross her legs and suck her bottom lip into her mouth as she stares at the back of yoongi’s head, “get a room-“

has it always been this bad???

how have you never noticed this???

maybe the reason why you never noticed all these things before is because you just had regular old human capabilities, but ever since you’ve been blessed (or cursed, however you want to see it) with some demonic abilities you’ve noticed a few things have changed about yourself: you can literally float (though, it only lasts a few seconds before gravity takes over), your eyes flicker black whenever you’re really upset, and all of your senses have heightened significantly — like today, you could hear the familiar purr of jungkook’s car from two miles away and he was more than surprised to see that he didn’t have to text you to get you and yoongi to come down like he usually does (you still haven’t broken the news to him that both you and yoongi are… not human, but you’ll get to it eventually)

“what’s wrong?” yoongi frowns, turning to glance over his shoulder, “what are you looking at?”

“people are… looking at you.” your jaw clenches slightly when another girl walks past the two of you, your ears picking up on the sound of blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping a beat, “people are like- like, really looking at you.”

now, you’d like to clear things up and say that you’re not worried about yoongi running off to someone else because you know that yoongi loves you and also the two of you are literally bonded by blood or whatever — you know that yoongi is very attractive and most of the time you’re happy to walk around with him and have him admired by strangers but this is too much

this is like- well, to be honest, it looks like people are just about ready to pounce on yoongi at any given moment and now you feel like you need to defend him

in fact you’re pretty sure you heard someone growl at some point so now you’re wondering if the keys in your purse are going to work as a sufficient tool to ward people away

“of course they’re looking at me.” yoongi snorts, finding it amusing how flustered you’re starting to get, “they… i mean, not to toot my own horn here, baby, but i’m not lying when i say that everyone in this mall wants me to fuck the shit out of them, that’s kinda my whole thing, which, in my defense, you knew when we got together-" his eyebrows raise slightly when you whip your head back around to look at him, your eyebrows set in a glare as your eyes flicker black for a second

oh.

(he likes that.)

“well, i don’t like it.” you grumble, and yoongi knows you must be really upset because you haven’t attacked the cup of fresh pretzels he has in his hand and usually you’ve already popped like eight of them in your mouth

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. and you know i only have eyes for you, you’re being silly-” yoongi smiles, reaching down to pinch your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to turn your head towards him, “hey, look at me- what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“what’s going on-“ you smack his hand away (yoongi’s demonic charm isn’t as strong now that you’re not entirely human) “is that i think we should buy whatever we need and then go home before everyone starts chasing after you-“

“you know, there is a way to offset the pheromones, or, whatever you wanna call it.” yoongi kisses his teeth, tossing a pretzel up into the air and catching it with his mouth as he chews thoughtfully, “i don’t evphen know what it is. my aura? i don’t know. whatehver demon thing is happening-“ he swallows, “i usually just have to fuck someone. then it takes like thirty minutes before the pheromones come back and everyone’s pining after me again.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you and the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your throat bob as you swallow

“…that’s really the only solution?” you ask suspiciously, “because you got a paper cut last week and you said your body will heal itself faster if you go down on me, which i’m still struggling to see the connection-“

“well that was very obviously a lie, y/n, i just wanted to bury my face in between your legs and you were like, too busy writing a paper but it makes sense in this case, doesn’t it? get some good sex outta my system and people won’t pay as much attention to me because the tension inside of me has been released.”

“hm. i… guess you have a point. and you swear people will stop for a little while if you have sex?”

“pinky promise. but, you know, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want me bending you over in the dressing room. i know you like having privac-“ yoongi stops halfway through his sentence, his own eyebrows furrowing when he picks up on the fact that there’s a group of guys checking you out and almost instantly he feels jealousy swirling in his system

“-nice ass.”

he catches the end of a sentence and his eyes darken as he loops an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him, making direct eye contact with the group, “yeah, and you’re never gonna get your grimy fucking hands on it, you freaks-!” he calls out, and you don’t get much of a chance to say or do anything else before he’s dragging you down the opposite direction, setting the cup of pretzels down atop the garbage bin

“hey- where are we going?? jungkook’s still in the- okay, well, i don’t see why we had to abandon the pretzels, but fine-“

“what do you think? we’re finding a washroom and i’m fucking the shit out of you-"

“see, this is exactly what i was talking about!” you let out a laugh of disbelief at yoongi’s shift in mood as you let him drag you towards the washrooms, “and you had the gall to make fun of me for feeling some type of way about other people staring at you!”

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

(“oh, fuck- fuck me, fuck me-“ you whimper, head dipping as you grip onto both sides of the ceramic sink, your eyelids fluttering shut as yoongi slides a hand from your lower back up before grasping the back of your neck, shoving you downwards as he continues thrusting, very much enjoying the view of your ass bouncing off of him at this angle

“good girl- so fucking good for me, always so good-“ he growls, sweat glistening off his brow bone as he tangles his fingers in your hair, grabbing a fistful before yanking you back up to press your back against his chest, the back of your head slotting against the crook of his neck, “nuh-uh, i want you to watch me fuck you-“

your eyes immediately flicker down and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed and lips slick and swollen and god you look hot-

“you- you swear this is gonna- gonna work-" your eyebrows crinkle together as you let out a particularly high moan when yoongi’s hand slides down in between your legs, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sensitive clit

“of course it’s gonna work, my girl.” he grunts, flashing you a boyish grin in the mirror, “don’t you trust me?”)

🎙️ ask y/n and yoongi if they had a good time (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[winterarchives]

Shadows on the Honmoon - p1

summary - You're left reeling after a demon attacks during a concert, taking one of your groupmates without a trace. Determined to get her back, you begin hunting the creature — only to cross paths with a demon sent to stop it. As an uneasy alliance deepens, the line between hunter, monster, and memory begins to blur. pairing - min yoongi x reader genre / warnings - kpop demon hunters! au , demon!yoongi , angst  word count - 4.9k+

The sun hung low over the Seoul skyline. If you opened your ears just enough, you could hear the sounds of fan chants floating up from the stadium. Sound check was an hour ago, and go-time was nearing with fervor. The greenroom buzzed under the fluorescent lights, too bright and concentrated in numbers. Staff scurried around the four of you, brushing curls and spraying glitter. But you could feel it in your bones-- something was off. 

For a sold-out summer stage, the vibe should’ve been electric. Instead, you waited in a haze.

Jihyo had taught you from a young age to trust instinct. Never second-guess. Second-guessing got hunters killed. Second-guessing threatened the Honmoon. But it was just you, you told yourself. The other girls hadn’t mentioned anything strange yet. 

Mina was humming again, the same hook and ending verse from your encore song “STAR.” Fingers tapped the beat on her thigh as her stylists touched up her makeup. Purple glittery eyeshadow to match her outfit. Black hair with purple money pieces styled to perfection in a long braid.

“Stage in twenty,” Chen called out-- your manager. But you didn’t move. Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling vent, where airflow curled unnaturally. Wrong tempo, your instincts whispered. Wrong sound. 

You stood up, hand drifting unconsciously towards your jacket pocket-- fingertips kissing the ward charm sewn beneath your mic pack. It felt hot. 

Too hot.

And too hot typically meant things that were supposed to stay below the shield had drifted too far up for your liking. 

“You guys hear that crowd?” Mina grinned, “That’s the sound of people ready to worship.” 

“They’re ready to see me, as usual,” Joy replied, mouth full of noodles. 

“Stop blowing smoke up your ass, Joy,” Yuqi laughed as she pulled a brush through her honeyed hair and adjusted her yellow stage outfit. “I’m just manifesting zero falls tonight.” 

“You fell in rehearsal this morning,” you point out. 

“That was a spiritual reset.” 

Mina rolled her eyes as she walked up to you and started braiding a strand of your hair without asking. So very Mina of her. “You’re doing that storm cloud face again. You good?” 

“Just focused,” you answer. “Something feels…” 

“Off? Yeah, you always say that before we win something or do a big show. You’re just sensing success.” 

“Yeah, if you ever didn’t sense doom before a show, I’d think you were possessed.” Joy adds, blue bob bouncing as she laughs. 

“Your vibe is kind of haunted shrine girl with trauma and anger,” Yuqi jabs. 

“She’s our haunted shrine girl, though,” Mina smirks. 

“You guys are the worst,” you told them, smiling a little at the teasing. 

“And you’re our anchor,” Mina replies softly, tugging the braid to tighten it. “You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

Mina smiled and led you towards the stairs near the back of the stage. You were still shrouded by canopies and curtains. Safe from the view of eager fans. 

“All right,” you breathed, holding out a pinkie. They gathered around you at the base of the stairs, pinkies held out and linking around yours. 

“No matter what?” Yuqi whispered.

“No matter what,” Mina nodded. 

“We slay. We survive. We selfie after.” Joy grinned. 

“We come back whole.” You added, pressing your foreheads together with the others over your interlocked pinkies. 

Just for one breath, one beat. 

“VENOM, five-minute call to stage.” 

You broke apart like lightning. Confident, loud, and shining. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Mina flipped her ponytail next to you, sliding into the center, and smirked at the camera. 

“We don’t chase, we conquer

Crown built from bruises

Hella bad, Hella loud, Hella ruthless.” 

The LED screen behind you glitched for a half-beat, and no one noticed. Except you. You felt the flame at your palm twitch mid-spin-- blade begging to be summoned.

Yuqi and Joy flanked your left and right, strobe lights bouncing off glittered eyes. You landed your mark dead center, fire crackling at your heels from a pyrotechnic cue. 

“Venom in our veins, bite back when we bleed.” 

The crowd screamed, but it felt too sharp, like it was peaking in your skull.

Mina took a solo walk forward, spotlights converging. She lifted the mic with another smirk, camera catching glistening eyes. She always nails the moment. 

“Heard ‘em say we’re cursed, but baby, look at me now.” 

The roar of the crowd was deafening-- tens of thousands chanting your names. The LED screen pulsed with blood-red visuals. Flames shot from cannons on the corners of the stage as your group struck the final chorus of STAR.

Your body moved on instinct. Every step was sharp and deadly-- years of choreography drilled into muscle memory. But something was still wrong. The bass felt off-beat. Your earpiece hissed with quiet static that didn’t match the music. Your gut twisted.

And behind you, in the sea of backup dancers, someone wasn’t dancing. 

They were watching. You caught it midturn. A figure in the wrong outfit, head cocked too far, smile stretching too wide. It didn’t move with the beat. It absorbed it. 

You broke formation, ignoring the wide eyes of Yuqi, Joy, and Mina.

You turned to face behind the stage. 

“Kill the track,” you ordered, voice cutting through the in-ear. “Now.” 

Music screeched to a halt. Confused cheers. Then silence. 

Joy stood frozen, mid-pose. Mina turned towards you again in confusion. Yuqi blinked in disbelief. 

You let go of your mic, walking up to the others when they followed suit. 

“What are you doing?” Joy hissed.

“Something’s here,” you told them, motioning with your head towards the backup dancers as the crowd started to rise in shocked volume.

“What is that? Is that a demon? They never look so--” 

“Human?” You offer Yuqi. “We need to get going. This doesn’t feel good.” 

Mina and Joy nod after Yuqi, following your strut behind the stage. 

The crew scrambled, and you ignored Chen’s raised voice and concerned questions. 

“Just cancel the show, Chen,” Yuqi called behind you, “offer to give them their money back, I don’t know. We can bite the bullet on this loss.” 

Headsets crackled around you as staff tried to make sense of the sudden cutoff. Security swarmed. Fans were filtering out, likely mumbling rumors, but the danger shifted-- it was already behind the curtains, too. 

You dragged the girls into a nearby hallway leading to the dressing room. 

“I saw it. I-- I didn’t think it was real. Thought it was the lights playing tricks,” Yuqi whispers. 

“You think something’s here for us?” Mina gasped. 

“Okay, seriously, this is insane,” Joy snapped, “you’re scaring her. You’re scaring me.” 

That’s when the lights flickered. 

“It’s here,” Yuqi mumbled, stepping back towards Joy. 

Mina stopped walking. She turned slowly, like she had heard something. 

“Do you hear that?” 

You didn’t answer, just bloomed your blade from your open palm. It ran long and sharp. Red blade with a black handle. 

Yuqi gasped, summoning her yellow glaive as Joy pulled her blue bow. Across from you, Mina summoned her dagger. Small and purple. The temperature in the hallway plummeted. You raced back towards Mina, motioning for Yuqi and Joy to watch behind you. 

“Mina, come on,” you told your youngest member, “it’s getting closer. I don’t want to stay out here for longer--” 

A shadow peeled from the wall behind Mina. Inhuman. Its form pulsed like a corrupted music video-- glitching, flickering, limbs too long. Its voice was layered, broken, like someone playing three distorted tracks all in reverse. 

“One of you opened the door. One of you shines.” It cooed, trailing long fingers across the hallway wall. “She sang so sweet,” it said. “But you stopped the song.” 

It lunged, not for you, but for Mina. 

You launched forward, shooting your blade out in front of you. It hit, sinking deep in part of the demon’s shoulder, but the thing laughed. It twisted its form, dark tendrils dragging across the floor, and slammed you against the hallway wall. 

Mina screamed. 

Yuqi tossed the glaive, just barely missing. Joy knocked an arrow, loosed it, and it sank into the demon’s middle, but still, it laughed. 

You rose, shoving Mina behind you. “Stay back,” you told Mina, blade lighting up and flame flicking to life across the expanse of it.

“YN, it’s okay. I think I know it…” She whispered from behind you.

The demon didn’t attack again. It just looked at Mina. Then it smiled and vanished.

For a half second, you were sure it was over. 

Then she swayed behind you, tried to catch herself on the lapel of your stage jacket. You turned-- too slow-- and caught a blur. Mina’s body arched backwards, her eyes wide on you. And then she was gone. 

No scream. No burst. Just vanished. Like the air swallowed her whole. 

The hallway was quiet. The spot where Mina had been was now empty-- not even her mic pack remained. Just a thin scorch mark on the floor, shaped like a clawed crescent moon, still faintly glowing.

You stared at it, unblinking. Your blade retreated, flame extinguished. Your hand trembled at your side. 

Yuqi sank to the floor, fingers scrambling across it as if she could pull Mina from it with her bare hands. “She was right here. She-- she was grabbing your jacket. YN, she was right here!” 

Joy was pacing, one hand buried in her hair, mascara smudged and streaking. “Where the hell is security?!” 

No one answered because you knew the truth. 

No security guard could’ve stopped what just happened. Nothing could explain it.

Mina wasn’t lost. She was taken. By one of them. 

You dropped to your knees, staring at your palms like they’d betrayed you. You weren’t strong enough. Weren’t fast enough. 

Again. Just like before. 

“I was right there,” you whispered to the ground and the cracks in your hands. “I told her to stay behind me.” 

Yuqi sobbed, rocking forward and hiding herself. “She said she knew it. She looked at it like she… like she remembered it.” 

“That’s not possible,” Joy shook her head, “that thing was-- it was a demon, Yuqi.” 

For a long moment, you all sat there. Frozen in time. The hallway lights flickered back to full power. Footsteps and shouts echoed in the distance. People were coming too late. Managers yelling about damage control, refusing to listen when Joy and Yuqi told them that Mina had stormed out-- had quit. 

None of them saw her disappear into thin air like the three of you. Only you knew what was real. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“We’re going to find her,” you told the others, huddled on the couches in the living room of your shared dorm in changes of clothes and makeup long since wiped away. 

“How?!” Joy shouted. “She’s gone, YN. That thing ripped her out of reality. What do you think you’re going to do? Light a match and walk into hell?” 

“If that’s what it takes.” 

And you meant it. Because Mina wasn’t the first person you had lost to the darkness. But she’d be the last.

You stood up and walked towards the doorway of the shared room, face washed in blue monitor light from the TV on the wall. The scorch mark was blown up and enhanced from a photo you snapped before the staff swept the hallway clean. They hadn’t noticed it. Couldn’t see anything relating to the demon world below you, even now. You’d redrawn it five times already on notebook paper. Compared it with old symbols in books Jihyo had spared you from her days of guarding the Honmoon. It didn’t match anything. 

Far as you could tell, whatever took Mina wasn’t supposed to exist. 

Behind you, the sofa creaked. Yuqi looked at you, face puffy, hoodie sleeves pulled over her shaking hands. She padded across the floor and pulled you into a hug. “None of us has slept. We’re tired and we’re not thinking straight.” 

“There’s no time to sleep.” 

“There’s no time to break, either.” 

“What are you hoping to find? That we just missed some hidden line in a demon index?” Joy asked. “That we can draw a summoning circle and she’ll pop out like nothing happened?” 

“I’m trying to find out what it was.” 

“And you’re trying to do it alone. That’s a problem.” 

Yuqi let go, reached for your wrist. “Please don’t shut us out, not like this.” 

Your voice cracked, “You didn’t see her face. Right before she was gone. She looked at me like she needed me to stop it.” You looked between the two of them, “I’m not going to lose another person. I can’t.” 

“You think we don’t feel that?” Joy asked, voice shaking and sharp. “Mina was my sister, YN. We all lost her. You don’t get to own that.” She stepped closer, “But if you go running into whatever monster’s waiting for you without a plan-- without us-- you’re not saving her. You’re just trading places.” 

“You can’t protect everyone all of the time,” Yuqi whispered. 

“I can at least try.” You replied, grabbing your jacket and leaving the dorm. 

Neither of them followed. 

Seoul doesn’t feel like it knows what it lost. But you do. 

Your hoodie is pulled tight over yourself, shielding you from people who might take notice, amongst other beings. 

The city never slept, but at this hour, it did forget to blink. 

Billboards still glowed with your faces, all four of them. Mina smiled down at you from the glass of a passing bus-advert, mid-dance, forever frozen in promotional lighting. 

You kept your head low under your hood as the night swallowed you. No driver. No bodyguards. Just a palm held close, blade humming within you. Your feet moved without direction-- just instinct. An instinct that called you somewhere deeper. 

You followed it past neon convenience stores and flickering subway entrances. Down graffiti-tagged alleys where the air buzzed like the low hum of a dead mic. You ducked through a broken side gate, a shortcut to the old performance lot beyond your old trainee building. It was condemned. Abandoned. Perfect. 

Your blade flickered to life in your hand like a warning. Something was already there. 

You rounded the corner, and there it was. The demon.

It wasn’t even hiding anymore.

It stood tall, glitching at the edges. Its body pulsed. Its mouth didn’t move, but the voice still reached you-- layered, backwards, too close to a familiar pitch. 

“You followed the song.” 

“You took her. Give her back,” you reply, steadying yourself. 

It tilted its head, not confused, but amused. “She sang so well. I want to wear her voice.” 

Your breath hitched, your blade blazed. 

“Where is she?” 

“She’s not here. She’s not yours. But you shine. Like he did.” 

You stopped cold.

He. 

Your brother?

“You’ve seen him?” 

The demon glitched forward suddenly, one step and it was inches from you. No heat. No breath. Just void. 

“He screamed in colors. You will, too.” 

And then it struck.

You ducked and rolled, blade bursting from your palm and singeing the corner of the alley wall. The demon recoiled, not in pain -- in interest. 

It flickered again, behind you this time. Grabbed your shoulder. 

You screamed and threw your elbow back into what should have been solid-- but the demon’s form shattered like smoke, reappearing in front of you again, closer, crouched, studying you. 

“You burn wrong. Wild. Lonely.” 

“That’s why this is easy,” you hissed, swinging your blade. 

It dodged, lunged. You dropped, skidded, and sent the blade swinging for its legs. It connected, the demon hissed, and staggered back. But it was smiling again. Even without a face. “She called for someone. Not you.” 

Something in you broke. You ran straight for it, fire burning bright against your blade, screaming as you swung--

But it caught you. 

One tendriled hand to your throat. Not crushing, but stilling. Your blade flickered and dimmed.

“Not yet.” It whispered, “You’re not ready.” 

And then it disappeared. 

You dropped to the pavement hard, coughing, blade sputtering out in your hands. 

The alley was empty again. Silent. Your fists shook against the cracked asphalt. You punched the ground once. Twice. Then collapsed forward, cheek pressed to the cold stone. 

“Where are you, Mina?” You sobbed, blade flickering alive one more time, weak and stubborn, pulsing in grief. 

The demon was gone. So was Mina. Your breathing softened, came in shallow bursts that were nothing when held next to your previous choked sobs. The blade guttered weakly against the pavement, not quite dead but not fully alive. 

For a terrifying second, you felt alone in the universe. 

Until--

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

A voice. Low. Rough-edged like gravel. Steady. 

You spun up to your feet in an instant, blade reigniting fully in your hands. Your stance was wide, wild eyes locked on the figure standing just beyond the alley’s mouth.

Black jacket. Hands in pockets. His face was shadowed by the streetlight behind him. Still as the grave. If he were a civilian, you were screwed. 

But the air around him moved. No wind. Just pressure. A subtle warping of space. Like something holding its breath.

“Who the hell are you?” 

He stepped forward. Slow. Measured. 

“Someone who’s trying to kill what you just fought.” 

You blinked. “You’re too late. And you’re lying.” 

“I’m not,” he replied flatly.

Your eyes narrowed. There were patterns on his skin. Not tattoos, not scars. Just beneath the surface. Flickering. Faint. Etchings of a demon. 

“You’re not human.” 

“No,” he replied. 

“Then where’s Mina?” 

A flash of confusion crossed his face, brief but real.

“Who?” 

You stepped forward, furious. “Don’t screw with me-- Mina. The girl it took. The one it wanted. She’s the reason I’m standing here instead of watching sunrise rehearsals. You’re telling me you’re hunting this thing and you don’t even know who it took?” 

“I’m not here for her. I’m here for it.” 

“She’s not a footnote! She’s a person!” 

“She’s gone,” he replied, voice clipped. “If I had her, you wouldn’t be standing.” 

Silence. For a second. 

Your chest heaved. You didn’t know if you wanted to fight him or scream or crumble. 

But he stepped closer, his tone shifted, rough still but quieter. “I’m not here to lie to you. I don’t know your Mina. I don’t know your name. I only know that thing shouldn’t be here. Not in this city. Not in this world. If I don’t stop it soon, it won’t matter who it’s taken. It’ll take everything else, too.” 

“So what, I’m just supposed to trust you?” 

He shrugged slightly, “No. But you’re still standing. That means you’ve seen it and you didn’t die. Which means you’re useful. A useful hunter,” he chuckles. 

That stung. You raised your blade again. 

“I’m not useful. I’m angry.” 

He stared at you for a moment, expression unreadable. “Good. Keep that. You’ll need it,” he said softly. 

He turned, started walking back into the dark. But before he vanished around the corner-- “You can follow me or not. But if you want to see the demon again, I’m your best shot.” 

And he was gone. 

The blade in your hand pulsed once. Still burning. Still angry. 

Some things you chase because you have no choice. You didn’t want to follow him. You hated looking at his stupid orange hair as you walked the abandoned alleyways in Seoul. You wanted to go back. To the dorm. To Yuqi and Joy. To the version of yourself that only sang about demons instead of tracking them through alley shadows and praying to find your missing best friend. You’d only killed a handful of them in your career as a hunter. But Jihyo warned you about this. As the Honmoon weakened, you’d have your hands full. The only fix was a song. And with Mina gone now…

You shake your head and eye the patterns littering his hands and neck as you follow him. 

The city changed once you knew where to look. He didn’t follow the regular streets, he dipped into half-locked gates and subway tunnels no longer in use. Backstreets pulsing with old symbols carved into the brick, alleys that bent as he passed through them. 

He never looked back until he stopped. 

A quiet rooftop above a noodle shop. Just past dawn. 

He leaned against a rusted ladder cage and waited. 

You panted, “You walk like you’re trying to get away from something.” 

“I am,” he responded flatly, eyes on you. 

“Try again, then. You’re the one who told me to follow.” 

He glanced at you, eyes dark but alert. Assessing. 

“You’re stubborn. And slow. I didn’t think you’d be this slow.” 

“I’ve just lost someone.” 

“Everyone in your line of work eventually does.” 

“You don’t know me. You don’t know any of us. What even are you?” 

“Not the thing that took her,” he replies after a pause. 

It should’ve calmed you, but it didn’t. 

“I’m just here to get a job done: kill that thing and move on,” he adds. 

“Well, if you want my help, you’re going to have to give me something.” 

“Like?” 

“Start with a name.” 

Another silence. Longer, this time. You weren’t sure he’d answer. Maybe demons didn’t have names. Or maybe they did, and they were like spells-- dangerous if said out loud. 

“Min Yoongi.” 

He didn’t look at you when you said it. Just leaned back, watching the sky begin to shift from indigo to a sickly blue. 

“That’s a normal name,” you reply incredulously. 

“I was normal once,” he shrugs. 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing,” he replied, quiet and void of emotion. 

“Are you going to help me get her back?” 

“I don’t know if you can get her back.” 

“But you’ll help me try?” You ask, eyes narrowing. 

He paused, thinking. Then quietly: 

“I’ll help burn down whatever’s in the way.” 

You sigh and continue following him towards the Han River. 

The paint peels off the walls of the abandoned club in front of you. A husk now. Windows shattered. A rusted sign above the door that used to say RED ROOM, now smeared with graffiti and black scorch marks. You slowed your steps and glanced at Yoongi, who moved with the same kind of awareness you used in rehearsals. Every muscle sensing shifts in energy. A trained motion. 

“This place used to be open. We had a party here once.” 

“It’s been closed five years,” he replies without looking. 

“You talk like a coroner.” 

“Same job, different clientele.” 

You walked for a moment longer. A crow called from a rusted lamppost. The breeze shifted-- colder, sharper. 

You watched him carefully. His eyes weren’t glowing. His hands didn’t end in inky tendrils. But his steps were too precise. Like he already knew where the scent trail led. You couldn’t help yourself. “How are you tracking it?” 

He didn’t stop, but his hand slid into his pocket. He pulled out a thin shard of obsidian, etched with markings that whispered. The edges shimmered like oil slick under the early morning sky. “This,” he answered. 

You leaned closer, examining. “It’s reacting.” 

“Mm, to the bleed-through.” 

“From that thing?” 

He nodded, “When something crosses over from deep enough, it scars the space. Leaks behind residue. Emotion. Sound. Memory.” 

“Like soul radiation.” 

“Not a bad way to put it,” he smirked. 

You reached the cracked curb outside of the club. The doors stood just barely ajar-- inside, it was pitch black. Cold. The kind of cold that sank beneath your skin like a cut.

Yoongi stopped, holding the obsidian in one hand, watching the lines begin to glow a purple-blue. 

“It’s been here recently?” 

“Very recently.” 

“Is Mina still here?” You ask softly. 

He finally looked at you from behind orange tresses. For once, his expression wasn’t unreadable. It was… cautious. Almost careful. “If it left her behind, you would’ve known.” 

You clenched your jaw. “Let’s find what’s left, then.” 

You stepped toward the door, but Yoongi’s arm shot out, not touching you, just barring your path. 

“It wants you. Don’t get emotional in there.” 

“She was my sister,” you snap. 

“And she’s gone now,” he responds coldly. “Don’t give it anything it can use, okay?” 

You didn’t answer, but you pulled your hood up, blade peeking out from your sleeve. Yoongi dropped his arm slowly, and you walked into the dark. 

Inside the Red Room, nothing echoes right. Time stretched. Memories lied. 

The moment you stepped in, the temperature dropped. Achingly familiar to the way it had before Mina was taken. 

The air inside the club was too still. Stale. Not dusty, but dead. Like even the rot had gotten bored and left. 

You could barely make out the shapes: long-forgotten booths, a shattered disco ball dangling from torn wires, a dancefloor stripped of light but not sound-- something low and distorted hummed beneath your feet, like music from under the earth. 

Behind you, Yoongi said, “Stay close.” 

But when you turned, he was gone. 

“Yoongi?” 

You spun in place. The doorway was gone. The walls were wrong, shifting like an unfinished sketch. Your blade stretched out fully from your sleeve now, desperate, pulsing, casting warped shadows. 

Nothing answered. 

Then-- a voice. Familiar. Distant. Twisted. 

“You let her fall.” 

Mina’s voice. 

You whipped around. The club had changed. Now the walls were lined with mirrors. Warped and blackened at the edges. In each one, you saw a different version of yourself. 

One holding Mina’s hand tight. 

One screaming as the demon pulled her away. 

One walks out without looking back. 

“This isn’t real,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Real enough to break you,” the demon voice called out, overlaid with Mina’s tone. 

One mirror cracked down the center. Something moved behind it-- long fingers. A grin forming without features. 

You swung deep. 

It shattered. But the shards didn’t fall. They hovered in the air, spinning and reflecting your face back at you. 

And the demon stepped through them. 

Still formless. Shimmering like sunlight on water. But now wearing something closer to your world. Pieces of Mina’s silhouette. Glimpses of her hair. Her voice, half right. “She was easy to wear.” 

Your blade flared hot, and your voice shook, “Give her back!” 

The demon twitched its head, “Why? She was empty. Full of fear. Just like you.” 

It lunged and you barely ducked in time. 

A razor-sharp swipe cut across your upper arm, cold instead of hot. Like ice poisoning your veins. You rolled, blade gripped in both palms now, and aimed upwards in an arc. 

But the blade sputtered against the air surrounding the demon. Like the air bent light. Resisted it. The demon was feeding on the place’s history and your emotions. 

“She wanted to be special,” it whispered as it stepped towards you. “And so do you. But you’re only bright when someone else is dying.” 

You screamed, fire pluming from your blade as you swung it again and again. The demon dodged and dodged, stepping back until it was stuck with its back to the nearest mirror. It smiled at you, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. 

You ran. Corridors shifted. The club stretched wrong again. Doors appeared, then blinked out of existence. You staggered through a hallway lined with glowing veins in the walls, like the building was a demon itself. 

“Yoongi!” You called out, panting as you crossed another hallway. 

No response. Then the demon’s voice, soft, mocking-- “He can’t hear you.” 

“Mina!” 

“You can’t have her back.” 

You’re sent flying across the next hallway, air whooshing out of you as your back meets the wall. Your vision spins, lurches as you make yourself stand back up, sucking in empty gasps of air. 

“Stop running.” It tells you, sickly sweet, as it materializes inches away from your face. 

You sob, swinging your blade towards the demon. Missing. Your grief was getting in the way, but you were well past the point of reigning it in. 

You fight hard and fast. Your strikes burn shallow wounds, but the demon adapts. Mimics your movements. Uses your own rhythm against you. 

It grabs you again by the throat and slams you into the wall. “You burn so bright. What a perfect vessel you’d make.” 

Fingers start phasing into your skin, like it’s testing the fit. Testing if your body could host it. It hums. The melody… One of your songs. Twisted. Slow. Unnatural. 

“Tell the blade to sleep. Let me in.” 

You can’t breathe. Your body convulses. Your mind starts to slip. And then…

The air shifts, hums with a low vibration like a sub-bass only your bones could hear. 

The demon freezes. 

Yoongi steps through shadow like it’s a curtain, eyes cold and voice emotionless. 

“Hey,” he smirks, flicking his hand. The ground splits in a perfect line, a sharp crack of sound that sends the demon flying back. You drop to your knees, coughing, vision swimming. You look up and Yoongi moves like gravity doesn’t fully apply to him. Maybe it doesn’t. He doesn’t look back at you. Not yet. 

The demon shrieks in corrupted feedback. 

“Traitor.” It hisses. 

Yoongi’s hand tightens into a fist, and the demon’s eyes go wide, its white irises and sclerae panicked as it feels his power. 

“You reek of old blood,” Yoongi states. 

Before he can finish it, the demon shattered into static and vanishes-- leaving behind nothing but the scorched slash on the floor again, like at the stadium. 

You try to stand, blood trickling at the corner of your mouth. 

“Who the hell are you, Yoongi?” 

“I’m the one they sent to kill it. And if you’d stayed home like your friends wanted, you wouldn’t have almost died.” 

“You really don’t know where Mina is, do you?” 

“No. But I know that wasn’t her.” 

You stare at each other. Enemies. Allies. You weren’t sure yet.

But one thing was certain: you couldn’t fight this thing alone. 

[yooboobies]

here for your soul | 😈

do not edit/repost

you can find it on my instagram here

[lampjewel]

good news! hyyh yoongi DID indeed die and go to hell but he’s back to releasing some banger music!

[leftontheforestfloor]

Instead of swords and scythes maybe the girls should've just rubbed lots of leather on surfaces to defeat the boys lol

[dimsunstuff]

KDH doodles

You cannot convince me Mira and Zoey aren't gay for each other im dying on that hill.

[that-chaoticace]

Before this fun tidbit dropped my first thought when watching the movie was that this is yoonmin’s son. Suga + Baby G (aka Jimin’s initial idea for debut stage name) = Baby Saja

Plus the character raps. Dw Marion, I see the real vision. I can’t help but be good at the math ✨