moonyswritinq

[moonyswritinq]

i'm a STRONG believer in loser Jinu. you cannot convince me that man is actually cool. he's a big dork and he doesn't actually know how to handle any normal social interaction. i love him.

[moonyswritinq]

could I request a monty x reader (male or gender fluid) where he has a crush on the reader but feels bad coz of esthers plan for him and edwin :) ♥

❝ A CROW’S CONSCIENCE ❞

PAIRING ➢ monty x male reader

SYNOPSIS ➢ Monty couldn’t help developing feelings for you after getting past Esther’s orders and actually getting to know you, but it only made him feel all the more guilty when he is forced to execute Esther’s plan for you and Edwin.

CONTENT WARNING ➢angst, Monty deserved better, angst then comfort, a bit of fluff

WORD COUNT ➢1.8 k

a/n: my first Monty piece, and i’m so happy it was this. it turned out very angsty, but that’s just where the flow took me. i thoroughly enjoyed writing it, although i do think it’s kinda naff at parts, but hope you enjoy reading it anyway!

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

He hadn’t meant to develop actual feelings. He swears it.

It had only been a bit of flirting in the beginning to get him in the good graces of Edwin and the boys, to please Esther and help her with her plan. She is the one who gave him human life, after all, so who was he to stand against her?

No, he had no problem using his newfound charms; that was until you started flirting back.

He had approached you because he saw your closeness to the boys and could tell that they respected and listened to you. If you could vouch for him, they would listen to you.

The other reason was that you were easy on the eyes, simple as that. He was only a guy after all—a guy who had spent his whole life as a crow, and had probably not gotten a lot of action.

He thought you would be perfect.

Earlier, Esther had introduced him to her TV, and he had sat there watching the show Friends all afternoon. He especially noted the way Joey approached ladies. He could tell from that that he was not like Joey, but he could use the material anyway.

So, what he was expecting when he approached you was for you to giggle, fall into him, touch his arm or something, and you would be won over! Simple as that!

What he wasn’t expecting, was for you to brush him off and carry on your evening like nothing.

He just stood there, dumbfounded. What? That should have worked!

He tried again, and again, and again…and again.

At the end of the night, you had no doubt what his intentions were: to get into your pants (or well, that’s what you thought). And while you weren’t interested in picking some guy up in some bar, he did intrigue you.

After all your rejections, he went home, dejected, and went to rant to Esther about it. She only smacked him over the head with her newspaper roll and told him to stop moping.

“Come on, use that pretty face I gave you. I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” she said. “After all, if you can’t get any of them to trust you, what use are you?”

She said it all with a sickly sweet smile, but Monty knew a threat when he heard one.

He just didn’t know how to approach you if you had already rejected him so badly.

He had no plan the next time he went out, deciding to just walk around the town, when he spotted you. Instead of trying to flirt and enthrall you, he merely walked past you and threw a simple “hello” and a smile your way.

You had almost been prepared for him to be obnoxiously flirty with you again, that his casual greeting threw you off—and intrigued you.

After that, you took every chance to talk to him and spend time with him, something he, of course, did not object to.

Even though it hadn’t been the way he first had planned to win your trust, Monty was happy with the outcome.

Having lived as a crow, fending for himself, he didn’t have a lot of…friends. He was happy to call you one.

And then you started flirting, which caught him completely off guard.

“I, uh, wh—I mean, sorry, what?” The words stumbled out of his mouth, none of them coherent or making any sense.

You smiled at him. “I said, I like your hair. It’s very pretty.” Your eyes jumped to his eyes, settling there for a moment. It was easy to rest there, among the swirling pools of deep brown, but you moved on to take in the rest of his features. “It looks good on you.”

One of your hands reached out to pull a black strand behind his ear, grinning at him as you did so. Monty did not know what to do with that. His brain seemed to have short-circuited. The only other compliment he had gotten had been from Esther, but that didn’t make him feel what your words did. He had only been prepared to flirt with you, but not with you flirting back.

He couldn’t think straight, only trying to fight the smile that was spreading against his lips and hide the steadily gaining of colour in his cheeks. You thought he was pretty, when he was acting like himself.

You noticed the effect you had on him, and wouldn’t stop exercising it. You enjoyed the surprised chuckle and genuine smile that would light up on his face.

Monty, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of it. He was surprised he could even feel like this.

At this point, he had moved past what Esther wanted him to do. He hadn’t seduced you to gain your trust, or somehow tried to manipulate you. He had befriended you and developed genuine feelings for you.

And, oh fuck… He had feelings for you, he just realised. He cared about you, about your well being and wanted to make sure that you were always content.

Yet, he was actively scheming with a witch who wanted to kill you and your friends.

The guilt set in immediately.

It started with avoidance. His first instinct was just to run away from the problem—if he were still a crow, he would have flown away.

Monty started to draw away from you, spending less time with you and stopped seeking you out anymore. You noticed the change immediately and was alarmed, as one, of course, would be.

You found him by the swings, one evening, perched on top of one of them. He wasn’t swinging, just letting the stillness calm his mind. It always would, even as a crow.

Immediately, he noticed the shift when something new enters the surroundings. Or, well, someone new. He turned his head slightly, enough to glance over his shoulder, and upon seeing that it was just you, he relaxed. Then, he tensed again, because it was you.

You didn’t say anything as you approached, letting the stillness talk enough for the both of you as you claimed the other swing next to Monty. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his gaze was fixated right in front of him, unmoving and unchanging.

Cautiously, you reached out with a hand. “Monty?” you asked tentatively. He didn’t react so you tried again. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied. His voice sounded strained and too levelled, as if he was actively trying to remove all emotion from it.

“I can tell something is clearly bothering you,” you said, moving to crouch in front of him. It forced him to meet your gaze. “Tell me, and maybe I can help,” you offered, a sweet smile on your face.

The sight made Monty’s face fall in despair and he closed his eyes in frustration. He couldn’t handle lying to your face like this. He respected you too much. So, he forced himself to nod and looked away, almost choking on the words he tried to get out of his mouth.

“I just have…a lot to deal with right now,” he said, hoping that would be enough for you to back off.

You nodded, almost to yourself. Then, reaching out with both hands to take his face and make him look at you. “Okay. But promise me to come to me if it becomes too much?” you said gravely.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, I, uh, promise.”

“I’m here for you.” You smiled again, so sweet his heart clenched and he had to fight not to tell the whole truth right then and there.

“Thank you,” he managed instead.

He didn’t want to betray your trust, but Esther had created him. She gave him life as a boy, gave him the ability to feel all these feelings for you. That’s something you can’t easily ignore.

Especially for Monty. He felt some obligation to stick around with her. Well, some were obligation, and some were just threats from Esther’s of what she would do should he ever leave her.

He was afraid, both for himself and for you, and he felt trapped between what he should do and what he wanted to do.

So, he couldn’t tell you the truth, and it ate away at him inside until he had finally lead you and the boys into the forest, perfectly set up for Esther’s trap.

When you found out what he did, who he was, he furiously avoided your gaze because he knew it would be too much and that the betrayal in your eyes would hurt him too much.

Thankfully, he couldn’t dwell on it too much, as Esther dismissed him and ordered him back to their house.

He took one glance behind him, thinking it would be the last he saw of you, and shed a silent tear at the heartbreak in your gaze. It almost stopped him right then and there, almost made him want to throw himself on the ground and beg for your forgiveness on his knees.

Instead, he was interrupted by Esther’s bark of an order and hurried away, a wounded animal going home to lick his pains away.

Then, when Esther didn’t return home, he dared to hope. He ventured out, to the place he knew you resided together with Edwin and the others and waited.

He waited against all odds, on the littlest chance that you may have survived. When he saw you walk around the corner, smiling at something Charles had said, his heart stopped short and he finally knew what the term “took my breath away” felt like.

Your steps faltered as your eyes landed on him, your gaze hardening immediately and Charles moving in front of you, as if to protect you from him. You just shook your head and told him to head inside.

Then, you levelled your glare on Monty.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He immediately threw out an explanation, an apology, a declaration: everything rushed out of him like a waterfall of words he couldn’t block anymore, not that he wanted to.

Monty wanted nothing but your forgiveness. He thought he had an obligation to Esther, but now that she was gone, he realised how wrong he was. He could not shake the hurt expression on your face on that day in the woods, it haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

He would not stop trying to make up for everything he did, and you, against your better judgment, could not refuse those beautiful brown eyes of his.

If he really wanted to make amends, you would let him, because you couldn’t deny that you did want him back.

It would take a long time, he knew, but eventually, hopefully, the two of you could go back to what you had been.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @h3artfili4 @scriblezz @miaxturboto @ghostlyaccurate @bbybnnybee @remussl0vers @yokolesbianism @lost-saints

[moonyswritinq]

beneath the broken glass

pairing: Jinu/Reader (background Mira/Rumi/Zoey)

the reader's pronouns are he/him; otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: You crash into a broad chest. “Oof,” you say habitually. When you step back and realize it’s Jinu and his group, you grit your teeth. The remark craws from your lips venomously. “Watch yourself,” you hiss. A callback to your first interaction, when he was so rude to your sister. You’re not convinced of this guy’s innocence yet. “Cute,” Jinu says with an unamused expression. He motions for his group to move on without him and they do so; the noise in the room soon increases and you’re forced to accept that they just sabotaged Huntr/x’s fan signing.

word count: 10.3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, self-deprecating thoughts, cursing. spoilers to the movie.

author's notes: This is Jinu/Reader focused with Rumi/Mira/Zoey in the background (because duh). This isn’t canon compliant. Expect light angst and hurt/comfort.

I watched the movie yesterday and then this happened. enjoy!

If you were given money every time someone commented on how different you look from Rumi, well… you’d be filthy fucking rich. Sure, more than twenty years as her twin brother gave you plenty of time to grow used to ignorant comments. But even as you get older, the comments never stop. 

Honestly. It’s like every person you’ve met has absolutely no concept of biology. Yes, twins can look alike, but that’s more common if they’re identical. Rumi and you are fraternal twins. What does this mean? Well. It means you look almost nothing alike, despite the fact that you have the same parents and were born mere moments after one another.

The two of you didn’t have the easiest childhood. Before Rumi grew too old, she was given an immense amount of responsibility. Alongside her friends Mira and Zoey, Rumi became a Hunter: a warrior who protects the human world from demons. Rumi and her friends were trained to be fighters with the help of Celine, their mentor. And while you’re no Hunter yourself, Celine did teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Just in case. Still, you leave the singing and the maintenance of the Honmoon—a barrier that keeps demons from entering the world—to Rumi, Zoey, and Mira. They’re very capable fighters and extremely talented idols, so it’s no surprise when Huntr/x soars in popularity following their debut. 

Rumi and you are pretty much inseparable, especially considering the fact that you’re both half-demons. So when Huntr/x gets a building that functions as the group’s “headquarters,” well… you’re joining them for the ride. You’re not necessarily their official manager, since that’s more than enough for a full-time job. (Shoutout to Bobby.) No, you’re just kind of… there to support. Rumi’s friends joke that you’re their emotional support animal, which would sound offensive if it weren’t both funny and kind of true. Zoey and Mira know Rumi and you have a close bond, so despite their initial skepticism, they soon warm up to sharing their space with you. 

It’s nice knowing that you’re not alone. That you’ll always have your sister, no matter what. But still. You can tell Rumi is growing more stressed and ashamed of her demon heritage. She hasn’t told the other members yet. And it’s weighing on her conscience. 

So when her voice breaks moments before the group’s first live performance of “Golden” and Rumi runs off stage, you’re quick to follow after her. You’re more than familiar with Rumi’s tendencies, so you find her at the top of a building within a few minutes. You approach her cautiously.

“You okay?” you ask your sister. It’s a stupid question and you both know it. But she answers anyway. 

“My voice,” she says, her fingers dancing along her throat. Her eyes gleam with unshed tears. “It’s not going to last much longer.”

“Let me see?” you ask. Rumi moves her hand and you look at the markings crawling up her neck. They’re getting close to taking over her whole body. Your own markings haven’t made it quite that far up yet, but you’re sure they’ll be there soon enough. 

You extend your arms and Rumi hugs you. “We’ll figure this out,” you say, trying to stay strong for your sister. The truth is… You’re just as scared as she is. The two of you could die once the Honmoon is sealed for good. You bury your head into your sister’s shoulder for a selfish moment. “We’ll fix the Honmoon and everything will be fine.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince. 

Zoey and Mira have Rumi’s best intentions at heart, and the four of you are soon heading into a dingy doctor’s office the next morning to try to get some tonics for her voice. You decide to linger in the waiting room, sensing that Rumi wants to be alone with her partners. You give her a brief hug before settling near the large glass wall facing the street. It’s nice to just people-watch like this. It helps you forget about everything, and it gives you something to focus on. 

Time passes sluggishly. You watch as pedestrians of all kinds walk by. A young child jumps around, just barely kept in check by the hand holding his. A group of teens rush past on bikes; an older man walks by at a vigorous pace. 

The strangest sight, by far, has to be him. Or, more accurately, them. There’s a group of five guys around your age, briefly lingering on the street outside. They’re wearing bright colors and outfits very reminiscent of what you’d expect from K-pop idols. They almost look like a K-pop group, actually: there’s one man with a pink mullet; another with a shirt that’s clearly too small; a guy with bangs covering practically his entire face; one with pastel blue hair and a beret; and a final man with brown hair standing at the center of the group. 

You don’t realize you’re staring until the brown-haired man turns around, looking directly at you. You quickly look away, pretending like the wall in front of you is extremely fascinating. It feels like he’s staring at you for a few moments, but fortunately, the guys soon head further down the street and out of sight. 

You’re not given any time to process whatever that was, as Rumi soon emerges from the examination room with Mira and Zoey in tow. She’s holding a box of tonics from the doctor. You offer to carry them for her but she denies you quickly. 

The four of you are walking down the narrow alleyway outside when you quite nearly crash into the group of guys you saw before. Mira, Zoey, and you stop walking; Rumi seems preoccupied and keeps walking, accidentally bumping into the brown-haired guy and falling backwards. The box upturns and her tonics scatter across the pavement. 

You move to help your sister, ready to ignore the pastel nightmares in front of you. You’re content to bite back any remarks, until the brown-haired man who crashed into Rumi speaks. “Watch yourself,” he spits out, staring down at your sister. 

Red-hot anger and irritation rises up your skin, so fast that you can’t control your next words. “Fuck off,” you spit at him, sending him the nastiest glare you can before turning to your sister. “You okay?” you ask, offering her a hand with the box and helping her to her feet. 

The guy just stands there for a moment, almost rooted to the spot. There’s something clutched in his hand—one of Rumi’s tonics! Completely fed up, you reach out and snatch it from his hand. You toss it back in Rumi’s box and you head the opposite way with Huntr/x. Mira shoulder-checks you in what you assume to be a friendly, approving gesture. You just smile back at her, and join the members in berating the guys you just ran into. 

You shouldn’t be surprised to find that the guys are actually a K-pop group. You thought they had that look when you first saw them on the street. But hiding in the crowd with Huntr/x and watching the guys perform only cements the reality of the whole thing. And to make matters worse, the one guy somehow seems to pick you out of the crowd—and his yellow-eyed gaze makes you choke on your breath. Markings flicker at his collarbone. 

He’s a demon. It’s a group of demons. You exchange disbelieving glances with Rumi, Mira, and Zoey. There’s no way. They have to be some rehearsal group or something. 

But no. They have a variety show appearance scheduled, and some direct investigation quickly reveals that the Saja Boys are here to stay. Great. Just great. As if the impending International Idol Awards and the threat of the Honmoon’s destruction wasn’t enough… Now you have to watch out for a competing group of demonic K-pop idols. Wonderful. 

You do not sleep well that night. 

Rumi is stressed. She shouldn’t have released their new single, “Golden,” while they were supposed to be on break. The only thing that’s breaking now… is her voice. The rehearsal of their first live performance crushed her. She ran away. You found her, as you always do. She hugged you; you reassured her that it would be all right. And Rumi wanted to believe you. She really did. 

Then the Saja Boys showed up and everything fell to shit. Suddenly there’s an exorbitant amount of pressure on Huntr/x to perform well at the International Idol Awards, against this new group of idols who are also demons. It’s a huge fucking mess, only exacerbated by the fight after their first encounter. She, Mira, and Zoey had followed the guys as they hid in a bathhouse; they were fully intent on killing them and getting rid of their problems forever, until the group summoned a bunch of other demons to keep them occupied. From there, it was a sequence of stressful events. Rumi’s markings had nearly been revealed, but she managed to snatch a bit of Jinu’s shirt sleeve and plaster it over her arm like a makeshift bandage. The offended, indignant noise he let out should have been satisfying, but she was too preoccupied to worry about it. Even after Rumi reunited with her fellow group members, she still felt extremely stressed. 

It didn’t help that they accidentally left you behind. None of them provided you as an explanation as they exited the bathhouse breathing hard and with scratches across their skin. Rumi could tell you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t press them for details. When they returned to the Huntr/x building, Rumi was worn out. 

And if she thought those events were strange, then what followed was just plain unbelievable. A demonic tiger showed up on her porch and gave her a message to meet at a specific time and place. She begrudgingly followed the listed directions, only to find Jinu waiting for her. What the demon told her was eye-opening, to say the least. Rumi had never really considered that demons could feel at all—let alone experience the overwhelming guilt and shame that Jinu had mentioned. She left that encounter feeling emotionally drained.

Jinu’s surprising depth of character left her with many things to think about. Like: should she really be aiming to kill all demons? Aren’t demons suffering just as much as they are? She contemplates these thoughts throughout the majority of the next day, until she’s soon deciding to meet with Jinu. The tiger appears to carry her message; Rumi heads to the nearby park… and she waits. 

Her ensuing conversation with Jinu isn’t as shocking as the first one, but it’s still helpful. Rumi has never been able to discuss her demonic heritage with anyone but her brother. She and you are in virtually the exact same position; being able to gain some new information on demons is extremely helpful, even if this information comes from the lips of the asshole demon who threatens to ruin everything for Huntr/x.

Rumi’s thoughts are interrupted by the approach of an older woman, who sidles up to Jinu and her with a smile on her face. She extends an open palm and Rumi frowns down at it, finding her to be holding some sort of blue bracelet. 

“For your girlfriend,” the woman says to Jinu with a wink, as if sharing a joke. 

Rumi immediately sputters in offense. No way would she date this scumbag. She and Jinu are quickly dispelling the lady’s theory, maintaining that they’re absolutely not dating. The woman reluctantly departs, but not without encouraging Rumi to “find a better guy.” She resists the urge to correct her, saying that she has two incredible girlfriends, thank you very much. She bites her tongue.  

When the lady departs, Jinu turns his attention back to her. Rumi’s mild disgust must show on her face, because Jinu scoffs. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re not my type.” Rumi would be offended if she had even an ounce of attraction to the guy. But he was such an asshole when they first met… Not to mention, she’s already in a pretty damn good relationship.

Rumi is about to conjure up a snappy remark to that when she hears your voice. Her heart jumps in her chest. No way. No way her brother is here. No. Way. She snuck out of the house very quietly—you weren’t supposed to notice. She drags her eyes towards where the voice came from, only to find you perched on a nearby rooftop.

Damn it. 

Twenty minutes prior… 

You’re worried about Rumi. She’s been holed up in her room for most of the day, after what sounded like a brief spat with her bandmates. You know she usually prefers to have some space after arguments, but it’s been a few hours and you haven’t heard so much as a single peep from her room. 

Concerned, you decide to head over to her door. You knock a few times and she doesn’t answer; another knock, and still no answer. When you cautiously open the door and step into the room, you’re not sure what you expect to see. But it certainly isn’t a giant blue tiger with haunting yellow eyes. You instinctively scramble backwards, your back hitting the bedroom door. You’re very glad you had the foresight to close it, because you don’t want Mira or Zoey seeing whatever the fuck this thing is. 

The tiger doesn’t blink, instead just staring at you with that unnerving stare. You’re so startled by this sight that you don’t remember what you entered Rumi’s room for, until you come to a frightening realization: Rumi isn’t here. She’s not in the living room or with either of her friends. Did she sneak out or something? You know she was pretty distressed earlier, but it seemed like she wanted some time alone so you backed off. Was that a mistake? 

There’s a trash can resting innocuously in the middle of the room. That’s strange; Rumi usually keeps that by her desk. Its position is a bit awkward now, as if someone had knocked it over and then just thrown it back up. 

The tiger growls and you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. You study the beast, trying to figure out how it got here and what it wants. It has to be some sort of demon creature, right? Those eyes are a familiar shade of yellow. 

The sound of paper crinkling draws your attention, and you look down to see papers crushed underneath the tiger’s paw. You frown. Are those the lyrics for the new song? The group’s been having trouble with cementing the lyrics. Did Rumi get frustrated and leave to get some air? 

You frown and look down at your phone, trying to see if she sent you a text or informed you of her absence. There’s nothing new in your messages. Her location is turned off. Fuck. 

“Do you know where Rumi is?” Why you’re talking to the tiger, you’re not quite sure. But, hey, it’s been a really weird day. And the beast is just sitting here in the middle of her room, almost as if it’s waiting for you. Your suspicions are confirmed when it jerks its head ever so slightly, before lowering itself to the floor. Does it want you to get on its back?

The bird on its back caws impatiently. You hadn’t even seen that until now. It’s a crow with three beady yellow eyes and a small hat. 

Birds wearing hats… Tigers that seem to understand human speech… This is all crazy. But you’ll have to go along with it if you want to find your sister. Besides, just the other day, you thought a K-pop group of demons was crazy. And look where that got you. You scoff. 

With no other true choice, you approach the tiger slowly. When you’re close enough to its back, you try to reach out and the tiger tilts its head back to let out a harsh exhale. You flinch and it almost seems to laugh. Damn it. An antagonistic demon tiger. Wonderful. 

You finally get on its back and the tiger is quick to get to its feet, moving out of the room with deceptively quiet steps. When it makes its way to the balcony outside, it promptly jumps off it. 

You’d like to say you don’t scream, but that’s a complete lie. You definitely scream. This tiger is totally going to kill you. And isn’t that an amusing thought? Death by magical tiger accident. Against all odds, though, the tiger doesn’t fall to the pavement below. Instead, its paws tread on the open air and it starts to pick up speed, forcing you to gently grab hold of the scruff of its neck to keep balance. 

Everything is a blur from there. You can barely make sense of your surroundings, still overwhelmed with everything. The wind is hitting your skin hard enough to sting. You’re pretty sure a bug hit you in the cheek at some point. And the tiger is very fast, to the point where it’s soon skidding to a stop and bucking you off its back with no decorum. You’re thrown forwards onto the pavement, wincing in pain. 

“Ow,” you hiss, remaining there for a moment before getting to your feet slowly. That hurt. You brush off your clothes. “Fuck that tiger,” you mutter. Did it just get tired of carrying you or something? To your knowledge, it dumped you into a deserted alleyway. There’s nothing around here. Maybe it was just messing with you? 

You’re about ready to curse the demonic being when you hear a familiar voice. It’s Rumi! You’re quick to scale the nearby wall, jumping onto the rooftop of the nearest building and running towards your sister. You can see her now, walking at the edge of what appears to be a park. And she isn’t alone: it looks like she’s talking to someone. A far too familiar someone: the lead singer of the Saja Boys, Jinu. What the hell is going on? 

You quickly run over. “Rumi!” you exclaim. Rumi’s head nearly snaps backwards with how quickly she whips around. The guy at her side sputters as her braid hits him in the face. You look at your sister.  “What the hell are you doing? You can’t just run off like that—!” 

Your voice dies in your throat as you process the scene before you: Jinu of the Saja Boys standing across from your sister, disbelief written all over his face as his lips part in surprise; Rumi looking ashamed but assured, still wearing her pajamas. You have so many questions: why is Rumi talking to this demon? Why didn’t she tell you?! The two of you are supposed to tell each other everything. You don’t keep secrets from one another. That’s the one rule you’ve always abided by. 

“I—” Rumi breaks off, guilty for a moment before she frowns. “How’d you know I left?”

“There was a giant tiger in your room,” you respond. You decide to pointedly ignore the idol standing near her. “Come on, Mira and Zoey are gonna flip.” Speaking of Mira and Zoey, you shoot them both a quick text to let them know you found Rumi. 

“Ugh, fine,” your sister huffs, promptly turning away from the guy and heading towards you. 

Unfortunately, things don’t end there. “It’s you,” Jinu says, still staring at you with that weird expression on his face. Your heart lurches. Why on earth would he recognize you? You’ve never spoken, aside from that encounter on the street. Besides, it’s not like you’re on stage with your sister—you’re always in the background. Inconspicuous.

“What’s your name?” Jinu insists. 

“No!” Rumi interjects before you can answer. “He’s not interested. Thank you, bye.” You can’t even process the remark before she’s latching a hand on your wrist and pulling you after her. 

“Why were you talking to him?” you whisper as you make your escape. “I thought he was a demon?”

“He is; it’s a long story,” Rumi hushes you, peeking over her shoulder. She begins running and you do too, heading back to the building. 

It feels like Jinu is watching you, even long after you’ve escaped his field of vision. 

Fan signings. The bane of your existence. You’re not even required to do anything at them, and you’re still annoyed. Zoey and Rumi usually have nearly limitless energy when it comes to these things, and even Mira can be energetic if she downs enough caffeine beforehand. This is yet another reason why the three of them make such good idols: they’re kind to their fans, charismatic and compassionate regardless of what weird things the fans may say. And in the years since their debut, there have been some very weird comments from fans. 

Still, you suppose you can’t really complain—not when all you have to do is ensure they have everything they need. You bustle around to help Bobby, heading back behind the signing area to take a quick breather. You’re moving too quickly to make sense of your surroundings, just assuming everything will work out. Of course, it doesn’t work out. 

You crash into a broad chest. “Oof,” you say habitually. When you step back and realize it’s Jinu and his group, you grit your teeth. The remark craws from your lips venomously. “Watch yourself,” you hiss. A callback to your first interaction, when he was so rude to your sister. You’re not convinced of this guy’s innocence yet. 

“Cute,” Jinu says with an unamused expression. He motions for his group to move on without him and they do so; the noise in the room soon increases and you’re forced to accept that they just sabotaged Huntr/x’s fan signing. 

You try to step around Jinu, not really in the mood to speak to him. Your hand itches to grab your dagger, but you get the feeling that won’t solve anything. Jinu almost seems to sense your violent thoughts, because he only smiles knowingly. His hands rest in his pockets; he’s practically challenging you to attack him. He doesn’t see you as a threat. He’s practically asking to be reduced to a pile of dust. Your fist clenches at your side. 

“You’re the manager or something, right?” he asks.

That remark snaps you back to attention. You blink and refocus, torn from your spiraling thoughts. It takes you a few moments to process his question. (And another few to stop thinking about why he’s backstage with you, instead of with his group.) 

“Sort of,” you then respond noncommittally. “Bobby’s the real manager.” 

Somehow, your brief answer doesn’t dissuade him. “What do you do, then?” Jinu asks, his head tilted ever so slightly. The movement only draws your attention to his sharp jawline. That pisses you off, for some reason. You try not to think about how close he’s standing to you, or the somewhat revealing outfit he’s wearing, or the glimmer in his eyes— 

You berate yourself internally, acknowledging his question. “I don’t do much,” you admit. Feeling a bit uncomfortable by his attentive gaze, you continue. “I’m Rumi’s brother. We’re twins,” you respond. And okay, maybe you added that last part just to shock him. It certainly works—his eyes nearly pop out of his head. 

“Twins?” Jinu says disbelievingly. A frown. “You guys look nothing alike.” 

“Fraternal,” you supply. 

“Then that means…” he trails off. You’re a half-demon too. Neither of you say it, because you’re in public. But you know that’s what he’s trying to say. 

“Yeah,” you answer. 

You suspect there’s a lot more Jinu wants to say, but Rumi has amazing timing as always.  She’s saying your name and heading over to you, glaring at Jinu. “Hey, I told you he’s not interested,” your sister huffs, swiftly breaking through the strange tension that had settled in the air. She tugs you away from the idol, until the two of you are somewhat concealed behind the wall.  “And you got mad at me for talking to him.” She looks at you pointedly. 

“I wasn’t mad,” you clarify. Truthfully, who Rumi spends her time with is none of your business. (Although, you are glad, selfishly speaking, that Rumi and Jinu aren’t involved like you thought they were.) “I was just worried, ‘cause you straight up vanished,” you remark. 

“Well, who’s the one vanishing now?” she argues. 

“Hey, that’s not fair—” you try to say. The two of you keep bickering for a while, before Zoey’s heading over to mediate. Mira just huffs, more than familiar with your frequent arguments. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jinu is watching your quarrel with amusement and something almost close to grief. 

“Stay away from my brother,” Rumi hisses at Jinu darkly, not bothering to maintain pretense as she falls into the seat next to him irritatedly. This guy is really pissing her off, and it doesn’t help that he’s clearly attracted to you. Maybe Jinu thought he was subtle. But there was absolutely nothing subtle about how his eyes found you the moment you showed up to take her home. There’s nothing subtle about the fact that he was just speaking with you backstage, seemingly losing track of time and showing up to the fan signing late. 

“Why?” Jinu blinks. He’s sitting in a chair right next to her at the table. He is far too close for comfort, and although he hasn’t moved to encroach her space, it still makes Rumi uncomfortable. She would’ve much rather been seated near her girlfriends. But, of course, that’s not how things worked out.  

“He’s too good for you,” Rumi answers. 

Jinu doesn’t get to dispute that point before there’s another fan approaching. They both plaster smiles on their faces. Rumi nearly snaps the marker in her hand; Jinu supplies another with that smirk on his face. And it takes all the restraint she has not to punch him straight in his stupidly sharp face. 

That tiger is back. And this time, it’s in your room. The room you just spent hours cleaning and vacuuming. 

“I just vacuumed,” you tell the tiger, as if it can somehow answer for its sins. It just blinks at you, before letting its jaw fall open. An envelope rests on its tongue, the sides coated in drool. You grimace and pull the note out, disgusted but curious. It’s simple enough, with only a time and place scribbled onto its surface. It’s clear who sent the note.

You contemplate not showing up. But you’re kind of curious about Jinu. Rumi explained why she met with him, but not what he said to her. You still don’t know much about this guy—you just know that Rumi seemed distressed in the days following their conversation.

The tiger lets out an exasperated breath, evidently growing impatient with you. You look over at the clock, surprised to realize it’s only 10 minutes from the meeting time on the note. You’ll have to make your decision now. 

It’s kind of hard to choose. You know Rumi wouldn’t approve of you talking to the demon, judging from her reactions the last few times. But you want to know what he knows. Besides, Rumi snuck around under the cover of night and never told you. Isn’t it your right to do the same? 

You can’t get yourself to do it—not without slipping a note under your sister’s door. It’s pretty vague: “Meeting you-know-who. Be back soon.” On the off chance that Zoey or Mira see it, you don’t want them knowing that Jinu is the person you’re meeting with. 

Then, you return to the tiger. Sensing you’re ready to go, it practically rolls onto its back for a belly rub, before returning to a crouching position and allowing you onto its back again. You climb on hesitantly, and it’s quick to bound out of the room and pounce into the open air outside. 

This journey isn’t as overwhelming as the first one, but you’re still a bit stunned to be riding a demonic tiger through the sky. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to that. 

The tiger quickens and heads lower to the ground, beginning to dart through alleyways at blinding speed. Your fingers tangle in its fur, but your grip does nothing when the tiger stops suddenly—sending you careening forwards yet again. 

You fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs, somehow on your back and staring up at the sky. “Fuck,” you huff, needing a moment to get rid of the sudden dizziness. The tiger nudges you with its paw before retreating to a nearby corner. “That thing hates me.” 

“Sorry about that.” Jinu enters your view, peering down at you with an unreadable expression. You just huff, reluctantly taking his proffered hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet. You swear his hand lingers after you’re righted again, but it slips away before you can think about it too much. 

“You wanted to see me?” you remind him. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. You try your best to pretend as if you aren’t affected by his proximity. He’s standing so close to you that your shoulders are brushing.  

“I had a sister,” Jinu then reveals, apropos of nothing. 

“...Okay,” you say flatly. Why is that relevant, exactly? 

Your confusion must be obvious. “Rumi didn’t tell you anything?” he blinks. 

“No,” you just respond. 

Jinu pinches the bridge of his nose, looking briefly tormented. In the moonlight, his markings are more visible. They peek out from the edges of his clothing, reminding you of the wariness you’re supposed to have around him. “I lied to her,” he continues. 

“Rumi?” you ask. He nods. “Why? Did you want to impress her or something?” you blink. He doesn’t respond, which is an answer of its own. You resist the urge to laugh. “Tough luck. She’s already in a relationship.”

“I know,” Jinu answers, his response throwing you off. “It’s the three of them, right?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm. Wait. Fuck. “Shit,” you realize aloud, your head snapping to him. “You can’t tell anyone I just said that,” you implore him.  

Jinu blinks in surprise, before nodding. “I won’t,” he promises. 

“I’m serious,” you say urgently, your eyes wide with regret. “It’s— Don’t. Please.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Jinu maintains, entirely sincere. His hand finds your shoulder and squeezes it for a moment. 

“Okay,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. “Okay.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jinu continues, his hand falling from your shoulder. “You’re…” 

“Yeah, I’m half-demon,” you confirm. You implied as much in your earlier conversation, but you were in public at the time. Now, with only the blinking stars in the night sky as witness, you can tell the truth.

“I’ve never even heard of something like that,” Jinu admits. 

“Well, you know, when a Hunter loves a demon very much…” you say sarcastically. 

Jinu makes a strange choking sound. It takes you far longer than it should to realize that he’s laughing. 

“So, no singing from you?” he questions, raising a brow. 

“Absolutely not,” you respond. “Besides, Zoey, Mira, and Rumi have a good thing going.” 

“Clearly,” he says. “We’re going to need some firepower to take them down at the Idol Awards.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you just huff wryly. You have no sympathy for him. 

“What, you’re not going to help?” Jinu grins, eyes dancing with delight. 

“No,” you snap. The mere idea is insulting. “I’m not betraying my sister for you, dude.” Not for some guy you just met, and certainly not for a demon. 

Silence. Painful, awkward, impossible silence. Jinu doesn’t move to break it. And sensing he has nothing more to say, you reckon your conversation is over. You turn your back on him and walk away, subsequently missing the gleam of approval in his eyes as he stares after you. 

The International Idol Awards arrive far too fast for your liking. Rumi, Mira, and Zoey are still having a bit of trouble with their newest song, “Takedown.” You catch them discussing it in the living room the day before the show and quickly head back to your room, not wanting to eavesdrop. Rumi confided in you the previous night, telling you that she didn’t feel comfortable singing the song anymore—since it’s a diss track aimed at the Saja Boys and demons. Rumi’s sort of right—the lyrics are rather harsh and inflammatory, which hasn’t been Huntr/x’s style until now. 

Fortunately, it sounds like the group manages to make it work—and they choose to perform “Golden” at the show. You’re a bit relieved to hear that, and you can tell Rumi is too. Their practices on stage go much more smoothly after that repertoire change, and you’re getting excited to see them perform. The choreography is fierce, and the vocals are great, as always. Not to mention, their outfits for the performance are really cool. And, perhaps most importantly, their performance provides a perfect chance to seal off the Honmoon for good. Safe to say, it’s make or break time. 

You linger nearby as the three of them get ready for their performance. Rumi briefly breaks away and you try your best to encourage her. The time you have backstage goes all too quickly, especially when the Saja Boys don’t appear on stage and mess up the schedule. Huntr/x is tasked with performing first now. 

Within a few moments of Huntr/x’s performance beginning, you know they’re going to be fine. Rumi looks rejuvenated as she joins her partners on stage, the three of them brilliant as ever. You smile, briefly enraptured by the results of their hard work. 

Someone doesn’t want you to enjoy the performance, apparently. Because soon a hand clamps over your mouth and yanks you back, quickly dragging you away from the wings and into the labyrinthine depths of the backstage area. You’re not sure how long you’re manhandled—you just know that, finally, your assailant stills. Their hand digs into your cheeks and you realize with growing horror that their fingernails aren’t just long—they’re claws. It’s a demon. Fuck. 

As if sensing your fear, the demon leans over your shoulder with a malicious grin. You try not to look, settling for the ambiguous shape in your peripheral. But soon the clawed hand over your mouth is retreating, and your assailant is standing right in front of you. You lock eyes with Romance, member of the Saja Boys. His pink mullet is a stark contrast to the maleficence rippling across his face and the cruel sneer on his lips. 

You back up instinctually, just to collide with someone else. You whip around immediately, unintentionally making eye contact with Abby. (What a stupid name, seriously.) You inhale in a shuddering breath, struggling to decide who is the bigger threat amongst the two demons. Unfortunately, they decide to make that decision for you—as Romance tugs you into a near chokehold. You scrabble for footing on the ground, desperate for some semblance of balance. 

The other demon just clamps a hand on your arm, ensuring you’re pinned beneath Romance’s grip. You remain like that for a bit, breathing hard and trying not to panic. The demon’s grip won’t budge. If he wanted to kill you, he could. But he seems to be waiting for something. 

That something approaches soon enough. It’s the three remaining members, Jinu at the center. Their faces are downcast and dark, almost statuesque. There’s a tangible darkness that follows them, the shadows almost rising to meet the demons. For a second, Jinu locks eyes with you and just stares. 

“Drop him,” Jinu then demands. The coldness in his voice almost sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes are glowing yellow; the demon markings on his arms almost seem to morph and crawl across his skin. Your heart is trapped in your throat when your gaze meets him. What he says next is a slap to the face. “He’s not worth it,” Jinu spits, looking at you like you’re scum on the bottom of his shoe. 

Romance releases his hold; Abby’s claws dig into your arm for a moment before he reluctantly releases you—not without hissing at you menacingly. You’re left in the shadowed area underneath the stage, heart racing in your chest as the guys storm off. 

You’re always in the shadows, aren’t you? 

Always second place to Rumi. Always in her shadow. It’s always Rumi’s brother. You’re never allowed to be your own person. No one even seems to know your name. Maybe you’d be better off with the demons…

No. You can’t give into your faults and fears. That’s how Gwi-Ma gets you. He twists and warps your thoughts, making you think everyone is against you. Even in your hazy mind, through the foreign pain pulsing at your temple, you recognize you will always have an ally in Rumi. The two of you have stuck together through thick and thin. If there’s anyone who knows how you feel, it’s your sister. You will always have her support, just as she will always have yours. 

Thanks to that detour, courtesy of the Saja Boys, you missed some of Rumi’s performance. Damn it all. Judging from the applause, though, she’s crushing it. The stunt near the end of the song makes you nervous, as she’s supposed to fly around while perched on this metal contraption. It’s not nearly safe enough for your liking, but you know deep down that Rumi will be just fine. 

You push your way through bustling stagehands and crew members, until you’re back near the wing of the stage. Rumi lands from the contraption—safe and unharmed, thank the gods—and the lights go out. You blink in confusion. “Takedown” is playing now. You thought the group decided to drop that song from their setlist. So why…?

Mira and Zoey aren’t following the choreo either. They’re almost cornering Rumi, advancing on her as the song continues. Your heart roars in your ears as you see Rumi’s tattered outfit, her demon markings revealed to the world. The stiffness in Mira’s form, the emptiness in Zoey’s eyes… Something’s not right. 

You’re moving before you can stop yourself. 

You’re not a singer, a rapper, or an artist. You should not be on the stage. 

You’re not a Hunter. You should not be fighting. 

Still, you’re lurching forwards—swiftly unsheathing the dagger concealed on your form and brandishing it. You’ve never run so fast in your entire life. 

There are so many things you aren’t, so many qualities you do not have. You don’t have Mira’s badass attitude, her enviable straightforward nature. You don’t have Zoey’s bright and bubbly personality, her creative genius. You don’t have Rumi’s magnetism or voice. You’ve always felt as if this was their world, and that you’re just living in it. You still get that feeling—it never truly goes away. The inadequacy bubbling deep in your chest, the envy prickling at your skin, the visceral and desperate need to be seen and recognized as who you are. 

Above it all, though… You just want to be the best brother you can possibly be. You’ve always strived for that: to be someone Rumi can rely on. And as your sister stands on the stage alone, her bandmates descending on her like hounds, you know what you need to do.  

Mira shoves Rumi, and she falls in what feels like slow-motion. Your hand is outstretched, and for an awful moment, you don’t think you’ll reach her in time. 

At the last second, your hand latches onto her wrist and you use all of your strength to pull her back up to the stage. Mira and Zoey are on you in an instant; you deflect their assaults and turn back towards Rumi. Her markings are clear as day now, her left eye yellow. You’re grasping her arm still—and your markings are rising to meet hers, bleeding up your skin and dancing across your face.

She joins you and the two of you fend off Mira and Zoey’s inhumanly quick attacks. Before long, you have the two of them cornered. But you’re struggling to decide what to do next. 

Mira and Zoey make the decision for you. The members in front of you are stabbed and turned to dust, the opalescent glow of those familiar weapons revealing…

Mira and Zoey? 

“Hi,” Zoey says breathlessly. She’s smiling hesitantly. 

“‘Sup?” Mira remarks. 

“You guys…” Rumi remarks, the markings on her body almost seeming to pulse and fade in the presence of her girlfriends. It’s clear to you now: the Zoey and Mira on stage were demons. These two, who are staring at your sister with such fondness, are real. 

Tears spring to Rumi’s eyes as she notices them taking in the markings on both of you. “I’m so sorry,” Rumi chokes out. “I should’ve told you sooner—”

“It’s okay,” Mira says with a firm nod. 

“We get it,” Zoey adds. “We’ll talk about it later, ‘kay? We have some asses to kick first.” 

Rumi chokes on a watery laugh, clearly touched by her friends’ support. Secretly, you’re surprised that they didn’t immediately raise their weapons and point them at the two of you. That just goes to show how close the four of you are. You’ve been friends since you were children. You grew up together, and ironically, you think you’ve gone through worse. The best and worst parts of puberty; tense arguments that lasted days and weeks; Mira and Zoey starting to date, with Rumi confined to the sidelines… (that was quite the messy time). 

You think you can handle demons. 

You’re not given a chance to voice these thoughts, though, before the stage lights are snapping and breaking around you. A shadowed temple rises at the edge of the stadium, a spotlight revealing the Saja Boys in outfits of pure black. Your chest stews as their yellow eyes and markings are magnified on the big screen. The crowd is screaming excitedly, with no true conception of just what kind of danger they’re in. 

The four of you exchange glances from the dark stage, coming to a consensus quickly enough. As the Saja Boys perform what must be a new song, they gradually descend the set and soon land on the main stage across from you. Their dance moves are fierce and sharp, betraying Gwi-Ma’s control over them. Their eyes, while bright yellow, are dull and empty. They fan out in what looks like an attack formation. 

What follows must only take a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. It almost feels as if your life flashes before your eyes, with you as an observer to your own actions. You feel strangely disconnected, the blood under your skin pulsing and your thoughts screaming. Gwi-Ma’s voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of your inadequacy, your uselessness. You try your best to ignore it, your attention dedicated to Romance attempting to stab you. 

Despite your best efforts, the four of you are starting to lose ground. You’re slowly getting backed onto the edge of the stage. The towering abyss of pink and red continues to swell and rise behind the Saja Boys, Gwi-Ma feeding on the negative emotions of the audience as they witness the fight. Zoey and Mira exchange looks with Rumi and you. None of you know what to do next. 

Suddenly, the horde of the demons behind the Saja Boys vanishes into a breeze of dust. Gwi-Ma lets out a blood-curdling scream, quickly rising in size until he’s towering over the entire stadium. The fans in the audience are staring at him with cloudy eyes, their souls shimmering as the demon slowly drains them of energy. 

Gwi-Ma lets out a strangled breath and a wall of flames shoots at Rumi. She raises her sword and manages to block the blow, but it sends her skidding backwards with the sheer force. You run over and lend her a hand. With the two of you on the defense, you can keep his attack at bay—but the flames remain. Your arms are shaking and Rumi’s starting to slide backwards. 

Then Zoey’s at your side, with Mira behind you. The four of you manage to parry the attack, until the fire is rushing right back at Gwi-Ma. He screams in anguish, but the attack doesn’t seem to completely incapacitate him. The four of you are quick to take the chance you’ve made for yourselves, though—and you all rush at him from various angles. 

The crowd is snapped out of their reverie, and the fans begin finishing the song that got cut off by Gwi-Ma’s appearance. Their souls blink and shimmer into the air, imbuing each of you with more energy and power. As you all strike, Gwi-Ma lets out one last bellow, before sputtering and sinking beneath the ground. With the fans’ cheers and Huntr/x’s vocals, a new Honmoon forms over the earth in a golden shimmer—sealing Gwi-Ma beneath it. 

You’re breathing hard, your hands on your knees as you try to keep yourself standing. The members barely even look tired—they have crazy good endurance, likely from all of Celine’s training. You turn to look at each of them, grateful to find that they look relatively unharmed. Zoey and Mira join together in a relieved embrace. 

You find Rumi in the uproar, and everything falls silent. “Rumi,” you choke quietly. The two of you gravitate towards one another, as you always do. You practically crash into each other, hugging tightly. You’re crying into her shoulder, struggling to comprehend the fact that your sister’s safe. She nearly died today. She could’ve been taken from you. Rumi is evidently grappling with the same notion, with the fact that Gwi-Ma nearly succeeded.

When you break apart, Rumi rushes over to Zoey and Mira. The three of them hug and you look away, not wanting to intrude on their moment. Mira presses a kiss to Rumi’s temple; Zoey is beaming. 

The three of them pull you into their hug soon enough. You bask in the relief that they’re all alive and unharmed, that they successfully replicated the Honmoon and saved the world. The crowd cheers and roars approvingly, clearly happy with this turn of events. You four stay there for a while, before Mira’s the one to break through the hard-won silence. 

“We should get off the stage,” she huffs, her head bent towards you guys. Rumi nods and Zoey groans, evidently dreading the walk back. This stage is deceptively large; now that your adrenaline’s starting to fade, it seems like an endless journey. 

When you finally reach the wings, you’re met with a strange sight. “Oh shit,” you choke. 

“What…?” Zoey says disbelievingly, eyes widening as she takes in the sight before you all. The five members of the Saja Boys are sprawled on the ground, seemingly unconscious but alive nonetheless. They still have the markings on their faces, but their hands appear to be normal—fingernails instead of claws. 

“Huh,” Mira says flatly. “I guess they redeemed themselves or something.” She pauses, a smirk rising on her face as she flexes her fingers. “But I wouldn’t mind killing them still.”

“Relax,” Rumi huffs, squeezing her shoulder. “We’ll let them live. Then we can crush them with our next single.” She grins. 

“Good point,” Mira acquiesces, a rare smile teasing her lips. 

“Uh… what should we do with them, though?” Zoey asks. 

“Damn it,” Mira scoffs, evidently realizing they’ll have to save them. “Damn it!”

You laugh and help your sister lift one of the guys, grabbing his ankles. 

Of course, this is when Bobby appears—and he nearly passes out at the sight of you guys standing over the unconscious guys. He immediately dissolves into frantic mumblings, going on about how he “isn’t paid enough for this” and how the manager of the other group will “have his ass.” Zoey manages to reassure him by explaining that they can take the guys back to the tower; before long, all of you are piled up in a car and headed back home. 

Huntr/x’s headquarters have always felt sprawling and excessive. At least, until now. With the five Saja Boys and Bobby pacing back and forth, frantically making calls to the Saja Boys’ various managers, the building is almost too small. 

It’s a miracle there are so many unused rooms on the floor beneath this one. The members usually only go down there when they have work to do: recording new songs, rehearsing choreography, filming videos for the fans. The lower floor’s many guest bedrooms have always been nice but sparse. Huntr/x has never needed them, after all. 

It’s good the rooms are here now, though. The Saja Boys can each have a room to themselves. The guys are a bit heavy, but Rumi, Zoey, and Mira have undergone enough training to lift them and carry them into the various rooms. You help as you can, and before long, each of the five members is laid across a bed. 

Rumi, Zoey, Mira, and you return to the upper floor after that endeavor, exhausted from the events of the day. All of you have various bumps and scrapes; Bobby bustles about and finds a first-aid kit, eventually forcing each of the members to sit down and endure his fussing. You definitely have a few scrapes too, but you manage to sneak away and retreat to your room. After a quick shower, you slap some bandages across the various scratches on your face and arms. Then, you all but collapse into bed. You barely even have the energy to burrow under the covers, your fatigue winning out the moment your head hits the pillow. 

Rumi is very tired. After the madness that was the International Idol Awards, she wants nothing more than to seep into the couch cushions with her girlfriends.

The universe must have other plans for her, though. Because not even an hour passes before the Saja Boys are awake and far too rowdy, clearly relieved with their newfound human status. 

Rumi would’ve been fine, if it had just been that. She doesn’t really know the other members of the Saja Boys, and she’s more than fine with that. 

But it’s Jinu. Jinu never knows when to quit. 

“Where’s your brother?” he asks her, not even bothering to greet her as he exits the elevator. Rumi freezes in place, looks at him skeptically. 

“In his room,” she answers flatly. 

“Where’s his room?” Jinu questions, seeming moments away from darting down the nearest hall and exploring the floor until he finds your room.  

“Next to mine— Wait, no,” Rumi corrects herself. She glares at the guy. “You’re not allowed in there.” She positions herself in front of him like a barricade. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I said so,” Rumi argues, her cheeks puffing in indignation. “Besides, he’s probably sleeping anyways.”

“Just let it go, buddy,” Mira pipes up from her position on the couch. She’s practically fusing into Zoey at this point, with how they’re cuddled up to each other. They’re wearing comfortable sweatshirts and sweatpants, just like Rumi is. Rumi immediately wants to abandon Jinu and join her girlfriends, but this guy is relentless. 

“Can I speak to him?” Jinu asks. 

“Ugh,” Rumi says aloud, groaning in annoyance. He’s not going to give up, is he? “Fine. But don’t be weird. If he’s sleeping, you better come right back here.”

Jinu sends her a mock-salute and Rumi promptly gives him the middle finger. Zoey makes teasing grabby hands at her and Rumi quickly takes her place at her side, her legs tangling with Mira’s and her head resting on Zoey’s shoulder. 

The situation between Jinu and you is officially out of her control. Rumi knows you can handle yourself just fine. Besides, she’s fighting off sleep herself now. Her eyes are quickly slipping shut before she can remember to stay awake and angry at Jinu.

There’s a knock at your door. 

You ignore it, turning on your side and closing your eyes again. You’re close to falling asleep when there’s another knock. You just huff, annoyed with your persistent visitor. Despite their impatience, you don’t make a move to get up from bed. You’re still exhausted. A glance at the clock informs you that it’s been a few hours since you first fell asleep. 

Your door creaks open. You reluctantly turn on your other side so that you’re facing the door. You hadn’t even turned off the light before you crashed, so it’s bright enough for the figure in the doorway to be discernable. Jinu lingers near the edge of your room. He must want to speak with you. You choke on a sleepy sound and wipe your eyes roughly. You still don’t really want to move, so you just lie there on top of the covers.

“You’re matching your sister,” is the first thing that leaves his lips, as he studies the sweatshirt and sweatpants you’re wearing. You squint at Jinu as your vision clarifies, surprised to find an amused expression on his face. His teasing isn’t malicious or cruel like usual; it’s gentle, almost fond. “Thought the whole twin matching thing was just for parents to tell them apart.” 

You just shrug tiredly.

“Listen,” Jinu says awkwardly, still hovering in the doorway. He seems restless. “I wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay.”

Well, you’re already awake now. “Sure,” you agree reluctantly, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. 

“Cool,” he nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks almost endearingly awkward. You immediately suppress the thought. Not now, you tell yourself. “Can I come in?” Jinu asks. 

“Yeah,” you respond, motioning lazily. Jinu lurches forward like a puppet on a string, taking a few hesitant steps until he’s standing in the center of your room. You don’t have the energy to be self-conscious of the way his eyes explore the space. You watch as his gaze flits over the bookshelf in the corner of the room, the papers strewn about on your desk, the posters on the wall behind your bed, and the wall of windows that give a beautiful view of the city. 

“Nice place,” he says with a slight nod. 

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly. It feels like a weird compliment to accept. “Well, I mean, thanks to Huntr/x, really.” They’re the entire reason you have a room this nice. Their success as a group earned them the sprawling floors of this building. You’re grateful to be here. 

“Right,” Jinu remarks. He looks so incredibly out of place. That cruelty and arrogance in his eyes… It’s gone now. “Anyway… can I sit?”

On your bed? That seems a bit… intimate. You try not to overthink that too much. “Uh… yeah, sure.” He sits at the very edge of your bed. You stare at him expectantly.

“I abandoned my family,” Jinu begins, rubbing his hand across his face. “My sister and my mother.” 

He’s told you this story before. You get the feeling you’re hearing a new version now. Jinu’s eyes are locked on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze. “I resented you and Rumi, at first,” he admits, his fingers clenching in your comforter. “You reminded me… of my sister and I.”

His teeth are gritted, his jaw is clenched. From your position, it’s kind of hard to see the emotions flickering in his eyes. But you can tell it’s hard for him to reveal this. 

“You’re like…” he continues, “the older brother I could’ve been. Should’ve been, if I didn’t make that mistake.” His hands are nearly shaking now. That frustration at himself… it still lingers, even centuries later. 

“I thought that was it,” Jinu says. “I thought I’d figured things out. It was just envy. I just wanted to be you, to be a good older brother.” 

“But… it’s more than that,” Jinu says with a shake of his head. Finally, he looks up and turns towards you, only to freeze. His eyes widen. 

“What?” you ask self-consciously. 

He’s about to speak before he pauses. “Your other eye is yellow,” Jinu states, “just so you know.”

“Really?” you blink, momentarily distracted. You know the markings remained, but you didn’t realize your eye would remain yellow. You grab your phone and open the camera application, flipping it to face you. Sure enough, your left eye burns a vivid yellow. “Oh shit,” you say. 

“Looks cool,” he nods. He tears his eyes away, as if embarrassed by what he just said. “I mean…” Jinu just shakes his head. “Never mind.” 

“What were you saying before?” you prompt him. It seems like he got distracted by your mismatched eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Jinu says, that restlessness from before returning in full force. He looks so unlike the demon he once was. There’s still that characteristic confidence and charisma, but it’s gentler—not cruel. He huffs. “This is hard to do. And your sister’s gonna kill me.”  

“Rumi?” you ask. He nods. “Nah, she’s fine.” 

“I wasn’t supposed to come in here at all,” Jinu admits. 

“I mean, I invited you in, so I think you’re fine,” you reason. 

“I…” he says slowly. “Well, first, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said earlier—for saying you ‘weren’t worth it.’ I wasn’t myself.” 

“It’s— It’s fine,” you respond.

“Gwi-Ma had grown so loud, I thought my head was going to split apart,” he admits, ducking his head briefly. “I was fixated on killing your sister and her partners. I was frustrated that the guys snatched you instead of one of them, but that doesn’t excuse what I said.” 

“It’s okay, seriously,” you try to reassure him. You didn’t attribute much meaning to the remark—it was in the heat of the moment, and you could already tell that he was under Gwi-Ma’s influence. 

“You’re worth it,” he asserts confidently. “Not in that way. I mean, you are worthy of killing. But that’s not the point.” You just raise your eyebrows in mild amusement, watching as he stumbles over his words. It’s a nice change. As much as that cold and suave version of him seemed attractive, it was fake. This is the real Jinu, and he’s seeking redemption. “You’re…” he breaks off. 

“I forgive you,” you say, deciding to make it easy for him. 

“Really?” Jinu asks. He wasn’t expecting that, clearly. You nod. For a moment, he seems satisfied. But it doesn’t last long. “...There’s still more.” 

You frown in confusion. Jinu seems to need a moment to gather his courage. He takes a sharp breath. His next words are blurted out quickly. “I like you,” he says. His eyes flit about the room, looking everywhere but at you. “Romantically. I’m attracted to you.”

Oh. Oh shit. 

You don’t realize you’ve said that aloud until you see Jinu’s face practically fall, a frown marring his handsome features. You’re quick to stammer out an explanation. “No, hey, wait—!” you try to say, reaching out and just narrowly missing his wrist. Jinu’s already getting to his feet, standing up and heading for the door. Shit. 

You get to your feet and lunge after him, snatching his wrist and yanking him back. Jinu goes with the gesture reluctantly. He looks upset. You try to find the right words to say, but you’re drawing a blank. The weight of the words he just uttered, combined with knowing you have his attention… 

His wrist starts to slip from your grasp. In a burst of pure spontaneity, you lean forward and kiss him. It’s meant to be a very quick gesture, on the off chance that he’d be uncomfortable with it. And as soon as you get close, you’re backing away again—only for Jinu to pull you into another kiss. Your hand finds the nape of his neck; his hand cradles your cheek while the other almost burns on your waist. 

When you break apart, you’re quick to clarify. “I like you too,” you remark, looking him in the eyes as you say it. 

“Oh,” Jinu says. He seems surprised. Why does he look so shocked? His deep brown eyes are wide. It’s an endearing sight. 

“You’re surprised?” you hum. He doesn’t need to answer. “You’re one of the first to see me… for just me. Not Rumi’s brother, or Huntr/x’s manager, or any of that.” Not to mention, he’s very good-looking, but you suspect he already knows that. And apparently you’re a bit tongue-tied too, because you end up uttering those words aloud for him to hear. 

He doesn’t laugh at you, which is a relief. Instead, Jinu’s lips quirk at the edges in a half-smile. It’s beautiful. You’re about to tell him as much when there’s a harsh knock on the door. You can barely even ask who it is before the door is nearly falling off its hinges, slamming into the adjacent wall. 

“Rumi, what—?” you blink.

She takes one look at the two of you and groans. “Nooooooo,” Rumi says, sinking to her knees dramatically.

“What’s wrong—?” Mira asks, clearly concerned by her girlfriend’s misery. She looks over at you guys and comprehension settles on her face. “Ohhh.” 

“Congrats, guys!” Zoey says when she approaches, chipper as always. 

“Nooooooo, not him, anyone but him…” Rumi continues, her head buried in her hands. You can tell she’s being a bit theatrical with it, judging from the way she peeks through her fingers and winks at you almost imperceptibly. 

You laugh. Jinu’s hand remains at your waist. And when you turn to look at him again, you’re surprised to find that he’s smiling too—a rare glimpse of what appears to be genuine happiness. Your lips quirk at the edges in response.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

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[moonyswritinq]

hellooooo! can i humbly request male!reader x Baby Saja with Baby being absolutely spoiled by his reader bf and showing off to other Saja Boys (they're so done with him 🫩)?

❝ SPOILED BABY ❞

PAIRING ➢ baby saja x male reader

SYNOPSIS ➢ You cannot help but spoil Baby: it is after all your duty as his boyfriend. And Baby cannot help but rub it in the other Saja Boys’ faces, much to their disgruntlement.

CONTENT WARNING ➢ fluff, Baby’s real name is Daeun (courtesy of @filijester), sorta pre-established relationship but not really, cursing, Baby is a handful alright, JInu’s a mom, the others are tired of your PDA (boo)

WORD COUNT ➢ 1.7 k

a/n: this is not as good as it could have been, I’m afraid, so I apologise about it being kinda naff. But uhhhhh I hope you enjoy it anyway!

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

Baby was a difficult man to read.

At first glance, he seemed to be this sweet-looking guy, caring and affectionate, and someone who couldn’t hurt a fly.

Then you actually spoke to him and he turned out to be this sarcastic, smug, and sometimes arrogant guy. It wasn’t difficult to dislike the real him.

But then you actually got to know him, and he turned out to be sweeter than he let on.

He remembered things about you that not even you remembered mentioning to him, and he indulged in your every request. It wasn’t difficult to develop feelings for him, then.

After you found out his whole demon ordeal, how long he had been alive and suffered under Gwi-ma’s rule, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

Baby didn’t want your pity, that he made very much clear. But the fact did make you more sympathetic to him and helped you understand him better: when he acted out, why he avoided some topics, and how to comfort him in a way that wouldn’t pity him.

Eventually, you had him figured out, and when you did he showed you a side of himself he didn’t let many others see.

You brought him flowers when he felt down, and depending on his mood he was either happy for the pop of colour in his room or he was happy to throw them on the floor and stomp on them to take out his frustrations. Either way, he felt better after and you didn’t take it to heart when he did the latter thing.

You also opted to come with food—any food, be it snacks, drinks, or a whole takeout order—whenever you visited him. You just loved the way his face lit up when he greeted you at the door and whatever you had brought that day.

Some would say you were spoiling him, or that you were Pavlov-ing him. (Which, now that you think about it, perhaps you were.)

But honestly, you just thought he deserved the world. And to him, you were the world.

He felt spoiled just to have you in his arms.

You could hear Baby’s mutters beneath you as his limbs tightened around you. He loved to have you lay on top of him. Whether it was a sensory thing, that he liked being squished beneath your weight, or just that he liked the feeling of holding in his arms, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t complain, unlike him. He let out another low mutter, too intelligible for you to be able to discern anything from it.

“Stop whinging,” you chastised him.

“I am not whinging.” He sounded utterly affronted.

You didn’t let his act put you off. “Yes, you are.”

He scoffed, looking away from your gaze before letting out a few low words, quiet and almost reluctant to utter them. “I want you closer to me.”

“Daeun, you know I adore you, but I can’t get closer than this.” It was the truth. You were laying on him, and there wasn’t much else that you could do other than open up your skin and let him crawl inside you. Maybe that would please the demon in him, though.

“Try,” was his only reply, stubborn as ever.

You chuckled out a, “Fine,” and lifted his shirt to allow your arms to snake around his waist, only this time it was skin-to-skin. You felt his skin heat up where your touch followed, and the faint markings pulsed to life beneath your fingers. You could barely deny him anything, annoying as he could be at times.

Then you made the mistake of looking up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was well past when you needed to leave. 

“Oh, fuck, Daeun, I’m sorry but I have to go,” you said.

Your hands returned to the sofa as you lifted yourself up on your elbows, hovering above him. Baby let out a whine before he could stop himself, and then pressed his lips together in silent fury, as if punishing himself for letting it escape.

“No,” came his reply.

You sighed, already knowing where this was headed. “I had to be somewhere, like, ten minutes ago.”

“No.”

“Now you’re actually behaving like a baby,” you said, glaring at him.

Baby’s gaze darkened as his arms immediately let you go and fell limp by his sides. “Fine, go. Leave me,” he said, suddenly looking to be the image of coldness.

You settled him with another glare, but it couldn’t stay serious when he met your gaze with those sad puppy eyes of his. You sighed, leaning down to place a kiss against his forehead, before pulling away and standing up.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you called over your shoulder.

“I’m holding you to that,” came his reply. You glanced back to see him sitting up now, his chin resting on the back of the sofa, watching you walk away. The sight made you smile and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, enjoying the way he melted into it, seeming to forget the cold shoulder he was giving you.

It was difficult to deny him anything, not that you really wanted to, but you had other obligations as well. He said you were prioritising other things above him, but he knew that he was actually spoiled with your presence and that you prioritised him above everything else.

You were always with him at other times, even when the other Saja Boys were less than appreciative over the fact.

“Please, guys, this is a shared space,” groaned Abby, walking into you and Baby laying intertwined on the sofa, cuddling as if it was the last you would see of each other.

Baby made a face at him. “Yeah, and we’re sharing it. Scram.”

“We live here too!” Romance complained, also groaning at the sight.

“Then stop complaining,” Baby countered, refusing to be deterred by their protests. He leant closer to you to press a kiss against your lips, one that summoned the butterflies in your stomach and had you tasting the tips of his sharp canines.

“Ugh, gross,” Abby complained. Suddenly a pillow was thrown in your direction, landing a foot away from your head. You turned to give him an unimpressed glare.

“At least I have a boyfriend,” Baby mocked. “Can’t say the same about you losers.”

You could hear the smug tone in his voice and could almost imagine he had his signature smug expression plastered on his face. Then, his words registered in your brain and you pulled closer to whisper in his ear so that the others wouldn’t hear.

“I like hearing that word,” you said.

“What, loser?” he asked, his breath fanning across your cheek.

You snorted. “No, stupid. Boyfriend.”

The two of you hadn’t labelled anything yet, not feeling the need to. You enjoyed each other’s company, simple as that. However you acted so much like boyfriends that the others had just assumed and started referring to you as such, which Baby had apparently picked up on as well. He blinked, only now realising what he had said. Then he pulled away to look you properly in the eye.

“Well, yeah, you are?” He said it with an easy smile, but the shake in his voice gave him away. You thought he was actually nervous and the thought warmed you inside.

A smile made its way onto your lips. “Yeah, I am,” you reassured him, kissing him again.

It didn’t stop at that.

Not only did you give him your presence in abundance, and without question, but you gave him anything else he wanted.

When the Boys would have a movie night, you were, of course, invited, settled right next to Baby, cuddled next to him. 

“Hey, love, could you—”

“On it.” You jumped out of your seat next to him and went to the kitchen to grab the snacks Baby was inevitably about to ask for. It wasn’t hard to predict what he wanted when he always asked for the same thing. You didn’t mind standing up and getting it for him, just seeing that genuine smile on his face was more than enough to make it worth it.

Despite the cold exterior he exuded, Baby could be very expressive and something when he had let you in. Which, now that he had, you never wanted to be on the outside again. The other boys were not as supportive, though.

“Don’t encourage him,” Jinu had said, sighing when he saw the smile on Baby’s face. Despite it being a rare occurrence outside of official Saja Boys business, he knew what could come from indulging too much into a demon’s desires. “You’re only spoiling him.”

“He deserves to be spoiled,” you countered, handing Baby his snacks and was met with that smile you cherished so much.

“Please,” Abby scoffed. “If anything he deserves to have his ego knocked down a peg or two.”

“I agree,” Mystery chimed in. Baby bared his teeth suddenly and hissed at him, to which Mystery hissed back in reply. You sat down to him and threw an arm around his figure, cuddling him closer.

“Now he’s just showing off.” Abby’s hand shot out in accusation, his brows furrowed at Jinu. Jinu just sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.

“I’m not showing off, I’m just existing here with my boyfriend,” countered Baby. He scowled at all of them, but tried not to let their words get under his skin. So, he said, “If that is showing off to you, then that sounds like a you problem.”

You heard multiple sounds of indignation being expressed by the boys, but you ignored them in favour of settling your head on Baby’s. You didn’t mind him bragging about you to the others—if anything, it made you feel good. It showed that you mattered to him. You weren’t some late-night tryst or a secret to be had behind closed doors, but someone that Baby trusted and could be in public with.

You kissed the top of his head and felt him relax himself even closer to your body. The tips of your lips lifted at the movement, and at that moment, you felt like the spoiled one to have Baby in your arms rather than the other way around.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @h3artfili4 @scriblezz @miaxturboto @ghostlyaccurate @bbybnnybee @remussl0vers @yokolesbianism

[moonyswritinq]

abby : ".. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY)"

baby : "what's that?"

abby : "remorse code."

baby : "I'm even angrier now."

[moonyswritinq]

can u write a charles x alive and very stubborn/dramatic reader? the reader is alive but really wants to help with cases, and charles won’t let them out of fear of them getting hurt or dying. so, in retaliation, the reader just puts on like a shit ton of iron jewelry to keep charles away from them lol. tysm!!

❝ A RING OF IRON ❞

PAIRING ➢ charles rowland x alive! gender neutral reader

SYNOPSIS ➢ Charles was always worried that you would get hurt by helping the agency on a case, which you were hellbent on doing. So, you were forced to take drastic measures to make sure he could not stop you from coming with. Then when you do get hurt, Charles loses it.

CONTENT WARNING ➢ no use of y/n, slight angst, hurt, fluff, sort-of confession of feelings, Charles being overprotective and thinking he has to carry the world on his shoulders, not proofread.

WORD COUNT ➢ 1.9 k

a/n: this is a joint one shot with another request that asked for how Charles would react if the reader got hurt during a case, which I thought would be perfect with this one, so, yeah! enjoy!

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

“No, wait,” said Charles. “I know that look.”

Another ghost case had just come up that required the detectives to investigate the forest near the town, which may or may not be filled with monstrous ghost-eating giant mushrooms. Upon hearing it, your eyes had immediately shifted to Charles. Both with concern, because this seemed to be an especially dangerous case for him as a ghost, but also with curiosity.

Thus far, Charles had shot down all your attempts at helping with cases, but you wouldn’t let it deter your spirit. Being alive gave you opportunities that Charles and Edwin didn’t have, them being ghosts, which would make you a great addition to their mystery solving. If it weren’t for Charles, that is. For some reason, he kept denying your requests to help them, but he still let Crystal and Niko help out when they could. It made you infuriated at him.

Which is why, this time, you wouldn’t let him decide for you this time.

“No, no!” Charles voice shouted as you stormed past him. “Bloody hell, wait!”

You ignored his attempts at stopping you, his hand merely leaving a a feather of a touch on your arm. You hurried into the flat you shared with Crystal and Niko, moving to your room. The girls watched you move past, glancing between you and Charles as he kept shouting after you.

“You’re not coming with!”

You turned swiftly on your heel, coming face to face with him. “Yes, I am!” you shouted right back. Charles was thrown by the sudden shift and fell back a step as to not crash into you, but when he gathered his bearings, his face hardened once again.

“I won’t allow it,” he said through gritted teeth.

You scoffed, breathing hard. “You won’t allow it?” You almost did not believe your ears.

“That’s right!” said Charles again. He really was 

You took a deep breath, meeting his glare with a deadened stare of your own. “Charles, you’re being unreasonable,” you said.

Edwin, having popped through the wall suddenly, cleared his throat. “I kind of agree with them. Charles, they can handle themselves,” he said.

“Thank you, Edwin!” you replied, as he nodded in your direction. “At least someone has common sense around here.”

Charles bit his lips together in a frustrated sigh, turning to your spectators. “Okay, ahh, could we please have a moment alone?” he asked. Edwin nodded curtly and walked through the wall again, the girls turning on their heels and closing the door behind them. “Thank you.”

You waited for everyone to leave the room before speaking. “What is up with you, Charles?”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“What, don’t want me around?” you snapped, glaring at him and throwing out your arms in exasperation. “You could’ve just said that outright without bothering with this ridiculous back and forth we’ve been doing.”

“No, that’s not it!” he countered, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I do want you around, it’s just that—”

When he trailed off again, you snapped. “What, Charles? What?” you bit out.

“I’m worried about you, okay!” he finally exclaimed, his voice almost shouting at this point.

The words gave you pause. You stared at his shifting stance, his hands wringing together and his gaze jumping all over the room: he was clearly nervous. “You’re worried about me?” you asked, a bit incredulous.

“Yes, is that so terrible?” he admitted, meeting your gaze.

You sighed, now your turn to avoid his heavy gaze. “No. But I don’t want to be sidelined just because you don’t think I can handle myself, which I can!” you added.

“I know that. Of course, I know that,” said Charles, stepping closer. “But still, I just can’t help but think of what would happen if you got hurt and how I don’t know how I could handle it.”

You flashed him a crooked smile despite the circumstances. “That is kind of sweet, I have to admit.” You also stepped closer to him. “I had no idea you cared so much about me.”

“Of course I care about you.” Charles let out a dry chuckle. “I, er, care about you a lot, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, how could I not? You’re aces,” he replied with that usual smile of his.

“Is that all I am?” you asked, lifting an eyebrow as your smile grew.

“Of course not, you are incredible.” Then, he sighed, glancing away. “But I still can’t help but be worried for you.”

You let the corners of your lips lifting. “I know I should still be angry, but that is actually really sweet of you.”

Charles’ eyes softened as he stepped closer. His hands made their way down your arms, taking your hands in his with his barely-there touch. It still felt weird to you, after all this time, to be touched by a ghost who could not really touch you. But still, it was comforting,

Suddenly, he hissed and jumped away, cradling one of his hands with the other as if he had just been burned. Which, he kind of had been. Before meeting the boys, you used to love to adorn your fingers with rings. And not just any rings, but rings made of iron. After finding out that the material burned the ghosts, however, you made sure not to wear any iron jewellery in their presence. You didn’t want to hurt them, after all, and you wanted to be able to be close to them. Well, until now, when it worked in your favour and did the opposite.

Charles glared at your hand as if it had personally offended him, and saw the glint of the ring that you had slipped onto your finger before taking his hands in yours. Then his eyes lifted to glare at you, a mix of hurt and confusion swirling in those pools of deep brown. He tilted his head as a way to demand an explanation.

“It is really sweet of you,” you admitted, letting out a sigh. That wasn’t the problem, though. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t help just because you’re worried I can’t take care of myself.”

Despite his sweetness, Charles could be a tad overprotective. He felt that it was his personal mission to protect everyone around him and that it was he who had to make sure everybody came home unscathed—no matter if they could take care of themselves or not. You knew that, so you also knew that Charles would not be okay with you going with them and that he would try to stop you any way he could.

The iron took away one way from him.

It was kind of low of you, you knew that. On the other hand, Charles had once locked you inside your room to keep you from coming with on a mission—courtesy of some of his ghost powers. If he got to play dirty to keep you from the cases, you got to play dirty to get on the cases.

Charles protests were met with deaf ears as he watched you turn around, reaching for the rest of your jewellery. He watched you put on all the rings you owned, even stacking multiple on one finger to be sure. Next, you put on the iron necklaces you owned, which weren’t many, but enough to keep Charles a foot away from you. He stood, watching warily as you worked methodically, cringing slightly at each added jewellery.

He knew he was being paranoid and overtly protective, but he couldn’t help it. It was you. He would do anything to keep you from harm, even denying you the cases that you so desperately wanted to follow along with. If you were angry with him, fine, that he could handle. As long as you were safe.

Now, though, he could do nothing but watch you put on more and more iron jewellery, each one adding an extra layer of protection—from him. Intervening now would mean serious burns for him, which he considered for a moment before deciding against it. It would be madness to even try to reach out now at you. He could almost feel the heat of the metal pulsing in the air around you, and the thought made him uncomfortable.

You put in the final iron earring you could find, as you had gotten your ears pierced for it years ago, before turning to Charles with a satisfied smile. There was no way he could stop you now.

Charles opened his mouth, as if to protest some more, before sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “There really is no arguing with you, is there?”

“No.”

“Fine, then,” he admitted, turning to the door to walk out of it. “Just make sure to not get hurt. Because if anything happens, I can’t even go near you to help you.”

You nodded to let him know that you had heard and smiled to yourself. Finally you would be coming with on one of their cases. Even though the measures were a tad drastic, you made sure to always keep one iron ring on you from now on in case a situation like this would ever come up again.

Charles was awfully cold towards you for the rest of the day, but you figured it was just because he was angry that he had not gotten his way. Let him throw his little temper tantrum, you thought. The thoughts of him left you oddly distracted during the case and you actually did end up getting hurt, albeit not seriously. It did not matter.

The moment Charles heard you scream out in pain, one of the mushrooms veins having slashed across the skin on your leg, he rushed over to you.

“Wait,” you tried to protest, pushing him away. “Charles, the iron!”

“I don’t care,” he spit out, pushing himself closer into your personal space again.

You could tell from his grimaced expression that the iron was hurting him, and how he gritted his teeth in pain. As he tried to bind a clean cloth around the bleeding wound in your leg, you hurried to remove and throw away the iron jewellery you were wearing. It was burning him less and less, you noticed, the more of it you removed, but you didn’t stop until the last of the rings were laying far away.

He wasn’t sweating anymore, nor closing his eyes in pain, but he was panting heavily, as if having exerted himself greatly. You supposed he had, you thought with guilt. That must have been very painful for him, you realised. And yet, he refused to not help you when you needed him, despite his earlier words.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t be able to go near me with all this iron?” you asked, your voice low.

Charles sighed, his eyes closing for a moment before he answered. “I did. But, not to sound corny, you’re worth all the pain in the world.”

“That was corny,” you said, a soft smile on your lips.

He let out a breathy chuckle and you met his heavy gaze, your hand reaching out to caress his cheek. He leant into the touch slightly, as if he could actually feel it, and your eyes seemed to do all the talking for you because he didn’t prompt you to say anything. You were grateful for that, and for him taking care of you.

Even iron could not truly keep Charles away from you. The thought filled you with warmth.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @h3artfili4 @scriblezz @miaxturboto @ghostlyaccurate @bbybnnybee @remussl0vers @yokolesbianism @lost-saints

[moonyswritinq]

i’ve landed safely so i didn’t die lol, expect some fics in the coming few days!

i’m going to Greece for a week so i won’t be able to write, but i have a few works i wrote last week ready to be posted, so i’ll publish them throughout the week!

hope you enjoy them!

[moonyswritinq]

i’m going to Greece for a week so i won’t be able to write, but i have a few works i wrote last week ready to be posted, so i’ll publish them throughout the week!

hope you enjoy them!

[moonyswritinq]

jinu: we’re late for the fan sign! can you come out?

baby: sure. i’m gay.

jinu: i know that. come out to the *car*

baby: okay.

baby: car, i’m gay.

[moonyswritinq]

Hi, can I request a charles rowland x gn alive reader who is crystal's or niko's roommate and basically how he reacts when reader gets hurt during a case? Like it could be a minor wound or it could be after affects of being possessed by a witch

LOVE this request, but i will be writing it together with another similar request, so stay tuned for that! thank you for sending it in :)

[moonyswritinq]

❝ BUILD THE WALL ❞

PAIRING ➢ baby saja x trans!male reader

SYNOPSIS ➢ You were part of the famous idol group Huntr/x. Your face and name was well known all over the world, and people thought they knew you because they knew the persona you had constructed for them. It killed you slowly to keep hiding behind the wall you had built for yourself, ignoring who you actually are.

CONTENT WARNING ➢ angst, gender dysphoria, she/her pronouns alluded to, imagined transphobia, reader is not out yet, no use of y/n, not proofread

WORD COUNT ➢ 1.9 k [request]

a/n: i love Baby and since i am trans myself, this was kind of a personal piece, so i thank you for the request. for any of my trans brothers and sisters, i hope you are okay and know that you are loved!

KPDH MASTERLIST, MAIN MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

It was no secret that you were the more masculine one in the idol group. It was sort of your brand.

Everyone knew your name, being plastered over billboards and often trending on social media. You saw an infinite number of posts and photoshoots that marketed you and Huntr/x’s songs every day, and in almost all of them, you were posed to present a more feminine energy, or you were in makeup, or your hair was styled like a typical girl’s.

Some stylists leaned more into your own style, which was masculine and confident, but it didn’t seem to matter. You knew what they all thought when they looked at you: a girl. No matter how masculine you dressed, or how short your hair was, they still kept calling you that. People calling Huntr/x an all-girl idol group, fans saying that you were their “favourite out of all the girls”, or some article titled “The Female Icons of Huntr/x”. It all just felt as a punch in the gut.

Of course, you hadn’t told anyone yet who you were, so you couldn’t really blame them for misgendering you. You still weren’t used to being in the public eye like this, so the constant reminder that you hadn’t come out yet was that much harder than when you hadn’t been famous. Multiple times you had thought about it, about telling Celine and the girls about who you really were, what your name really was, and about going through gender confirming care. However, you could almost hear their voices saying that it would be confusing, that they wouldn’t be able to remember your correct pronouns or your new name.

You didn’t even want to think about the fans and the media. They would be on you like vultures, scrutinising your every move, and every homophobic and transphobic person would jump on you like you were their own personal meal. The thought made you shudder.

No, you didn’t want to put yourself through all that. So it was easier to hide it, to ignore the discomfort you felt every day putting on normal clothes, to pretend like everything was fine when they referred to you as “she” and “girl”. You forced yourself to just play along with the sometimes sexual and feminine dance choreography, swinging your hips and highlighting your breasts, despite the fact that it was killing you to do it.

Some days, when it got especially bad, you had tried to bind your chest, enough so that you wouldn’t feel dysphoric about it, but too little to raise any suspicions about it. That was the only time you felt relieved and comfortable nowadays. Normally, you just opted to baggier and oversized clothing which hid your feminine figure quite well, and that became your image. Sort of like a Korean Billie Eilish, some reporter had compared you to.

You didn’t have long to dwell on it, as Huntr/x was due to perform on stage later that evening, again competing against the Saja Boys. You knew the demons were somewhere backstage as well, but you didn’t care as you walked through the hallways, craving some privacy from the others. You loved the others, you did, but they wouldn’t understand.

You loved singing with the girls, and you did sound amazing—that you could admit. However, the dysphoria had now gotten to your voice, and every note you sang sounded wrong, too light and too feminine, for you. You could barely handle it anymore. So you needed some space to practice alone. You tried to lower the song’s note to make you feel better, but it didn’t flow as well and sounded wrong for a whole other reason. You weren’t sure how you would be able to perform this song in just half an hour when the sound of it made you cringe and want to crawl out of your own skin.

That is why you didn’t notice the creeping figure until it was too late.

Baby, despite the name, is very perceptive. He notices things other people don’t, or cares not to, and as his time as a demon, he had gotten good at using people’s secrets against them. That’s why the habit was so difficult to stop. He was just used to being nosy, so when he heard a voice singing from one of the backstage halls, he couldn’t help but follow it.

What he found was you, your voice going over the chorus of Huntr/x’s newest song Golden, practicing for performing it on stage in half an hour. Your voice floated unbroken to Baby’s ears as he stepped closer, finding himself unwillingly nodding along to the music. It was good, he had to admit.

And yet, you grimaced and groaned in frustration, despite not seeming to have messed anything up, at least not to Baby’s ears. He walked closer, albeit a bit cautious. He heard you begin the words again, picking up the rhythm and letting the melody flow fluidly. However, what he hadn’t heard before, was that you sang in a much lower voice than the song was usually sung in. His head tilted to the side as he inspected your figure.

He had taken note of your choice of clothing before, both in interviews and during on-stage performances. They all leant to the more masculine side, whenever you were able to choose for yourself. He also noticed the quite boy-ish cut of your hair and the lack of makeup on your face. It wasn’t needed, he decided for himself. You were pretty without it.

Baby also noticed your hunched shoulders, how they always rounded in, as if wanting to hide yourself from prying eyes. He couldn’t let the thought go, and knew you weren’t okay. He wasn’t sure about what was going on with you, since he had only met you a handful times before—and then barely actually speaking with each other. But Baby’s innate talent for finding out people’s talents lead him to the realisation, his eyes widening and hands falling into the pockets of his trousers.

It was with this realisation that he approached you, unable to keep out of other peoples’ business, even when he wasn’t acting on demon business.

“Hey,” Baby called in greeting. You jumped, unprepared for a demon boy to pop out of seemingly nowhere. Your eyes narrowed slightly at him, taking in his signature-sweater and too-human looking expression. He ignored your cautious glare. “So, what’s your name?” he asked.

Your smile turned tight-lipped as you faced the demon, holding up the Huntr/x brochure. On the cover, the four of you posed with your names clearly stated next to all of you.

He rolled his eyes, stopping next to you to lean against the wall. “I mean, what’s your real name?”

“Haven’t changed since you last asked, smart-ass,” you said.

He let out a dry chuckle, his tongue swiping over his lips. You thought that his canines were sharper than normal, but you didn’t let your eyes linger on there for too long. “Wow, would have thought you would be nicer in person,” he said, unaware of your gaze.

You balked in indignation. “I can be nice.”

“Mhm, sure.” Then, after a breath’s pause. “Your preferred name, then?”

You just kept silent, also leaning against the wall, but with your gaze settling on the opposite wall.

“I know what it’s like,” came his voice from beside you. He didn’t sound malicious or as if he had any ulterior motives, there was only a hint of sadness to his words.

You glanced over, now intrigued. “Know what what’s like?”

He shrugged. “Everyone seeing you as something you’re not, just assuming they know who you are,” Baby said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning innocence.

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Really, man? You wanna play it that way?”

The word made you press your lips together in a thin line. “Fine. No, I don’t,” you admitted.

“I was just trying to reach out, for once,” Baby said, meeting your eye. “Jinu said I have a people problem.”

“Don’t know why he said that. You’re delightful,” you told him in the same deadpan voice you had heard him talk with in interviews.

He let out a snort, leaning his head back to gaze at the ceiling. “You’re the first to think so.”

You playfully nudged his arm. “Aw, come on, you’ve got loads of adoring fans.”

“Yeah, who think I’m a child,” Baby said with a grimace. “Goo goo gaga, and all that shit.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. Baby turned his head slightly, his lips lifting imperceptibly at the sound. “Well, you are called Baby,” you said.

“They don’t really like the real me, anyway. So, it’s easier to hide it. Hold up the idol image and whatnot.” He met your gaze then, a knowing glint in his eyes. He cocked his head meaningly at you.

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, looking at the opposite wall again. You felt his gaze boring into you. “It is easier to hide it. Don’t wanna kick up a storm, y’know.”

“Well,” Baby started, then cleared his throat, turning his head further in your direction. “What if you did kick up a storm, though?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Is it?” he questioned. His voice had taken on a harder note. “Wouldn’t you feel better without that wall you have around yourself?”

“Why do you care anyway?” you scoffed. The next few words left your mouth before you managed to stop them. “You’re a demon.”

His lips pressed together, silencing whatever he had been about to say. “Well, I still know the pain of not being true to yourself.”

You stayed silent and avoided his gaze. Whatever he thought he knew about you, you didn’t want to hear it. Who was he to judge you, anyway? He was a demon. Your eyes moved to inspect him again. A very handsome, thoughtful, albeit sarcastic, demon. When you brain caught up with what you were thinking, you scoffed at your own thoughts.

Baby pushed himself from the wall when you didn’t say anything else, standing in that nonchalant way of his. His brows were furrowed, though, which told you that he wasn’t really as unbothered as he pretended to be. You finally met his gaze as he turned to walk away.

“I’m just saying, if you keep ignoring who you are in favour of that mask you have on, you’re gonna kill who you are,” he said over his shoulder.

You watched him walk down the corridor, disappearing behind a turn with his words haunting your ears. Deep down, you knew he was right. You were destroying yourself by keeping up this charade, but you were terrified of what would happen. Was a life of discomfort and fear behind the mask you had created for yourself really worth more than you coming out?

You turned your head in the direction Baby had gone. He may be a demon, but you couldn’t help but take his words to heart. He was the only one who had figured out who you were, despite your close friendship with the girls. He had figured it out and, yet, didn’t threaten to do anything with he information, only advising you to come out for your own sake. Or did he have ulterior motives? Frankly, you couldn’t tell. Dammit, you groaned and rubbed a hand over your face. You were going to listen to a demon, despite your better judgment.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @h3artfili4 @scriblezz @miaxturboto @ghostlyaccurate @bbybnnybee @remussl0vers @yokolesbianism

[moonyswritinq]

kpop demon hunters — masterlist

last updated: 07.08.2025

MAIN MASTERLIST

BABY SAJA

BUILD THE WALL ➳ oneshot | pairing: Baby Saja x trans!male reader, synopsis: You were part of the famous idol group Huntr/x. Your face and name was well known all over the world, and people thought they knew you because they knew the persona you had constructed for them. It killed you slowly to keep hiding behind the wall you had built for yourself, ignoring who you actually are.

SPOILED BABY ➳ oneshot | pairing: Baby Saja x male reader, synopsis: You cannot help but spoil Baby: it is after all your duty as his boyfriend. And Baby cannot help but rub it in the other Saja Boys’ faces, much to their disgruntlement.

ROMANCE SAJA

CUPID’S KISS ➳ oneshot | pairing: Romance Saja x Huntr/x trans!male reader, synopsis: Romance was used to getting any heart he wanted—a simple air-kiss thrown here, a wink thrown there—but what he wasn’t used to was his heart getting captivated. And by you, nonetheless. As the fourth member of Huntr/x, you had an image to uphold, both as an idol and as a demon hunter. But when the demon is just so pretty, it is difficult to resist.

INCORRECT QUOTES:

adopted ➳ abby + baby

remorse code ➳ abby + baby

[moonyswritinq]

Could you write a baby saja (or romance saja- or both) with a trans man reader who’s a part of Huntr/x but hasn’t come out yet? Like still looking like a girl and having severe gender dysphoria making him look very obviously uncomfortable on stage sometimes or sometimes cringing at his own voice when singing? If not that’s fine but I just thought I’d ask!

thank you for this request! i LOVE baby (he and jinu are kinda my favourites lol), so yes, ofc i'll write it!

i fucked up with the reply of this post so the actual writing will be published in another post later, soz lol

[moonyswritinq]

this is inspiring me to write about their getting together as a group

i wish we got to see how the saja boys got together

[moonyswritinq]

abby : "did you know you're adopted?"

baby : "did you know you were a mistake?"

[moonyswritinq]

dead boy detectives — masterlist

last updated: 07.08.2025

MAIN MASTERLIST

CHARLES ROWLAND

A RING OF IRON ➳ oneshot | pairing: charles rowland x alive!gn reader, synopsis: Charles was always worried that you would get hurt by helping the agency on a case, which you were hellbent on doing. So, you were forced to take drastic measures to make sure he could not stop you from coming with. Then when you do get hurt, Charles loses it.

BRITISH CHARMS ➳ oneshot | pairing: charles rowland x gn reader, synopsis: Headcanons for Charles Rowland: the story of how you met and eventually got together.

SO AMERICAN ➳ oneshot | pairing: charles rowland x gn reader, synopsis: Headcanon & oneshot for Charles with an American reader, based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song ‘So American’.

EDWIN PAYNE

RUNS IN THE FAMILY ➳ oneshot | pairing: platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gn reader, synopsis: Edwin had been dead for decades and you had wandered the earth as a ghost in search for him. Who would have thought that you would find him in a small town in America, just strolling down the street?

MONTY THE CROW

A CROW’S CONSCIENCE ➳ oneshot | pairing: monty x male reader, synopsis: Monty couldn’t help developing feelings for you after getting past Esther’s orders and actually getting to know you, but it only made him feel all the more guilty when he is forced to execute Esther’s plan for you and Edwin.

THE CAT KING

CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE ➳ oneshot | pairing: thomas the cat king x male reader, synopsis: You’ve never been fond of cats. The little pests always drove you insane. Which is why, when encountering the bloody Cat King, you are even less happy to be stuck in Port Townsend. What started as distaste for the man slowly turns into him becoming a distraction—a rather nice one that you start looking forwards to.

INCORRECT QUOTES:

kiss ➳ edwin + charles

a joke ➳ the cat king, monty, esther, crystal, charles

stupid ➳ edwin + monty

[moonyswritinq]

if you haven't noticed it yet, I have begun making some changes to the layout of my blog. I will continue reorganising posts and stuff to make it easier to access, as well as updating my oldest posts, so keep an eye out!

i also happen to be suddenly very motivated and inspired to write so i am hoping to continue writing and posting your requests like i have been for the past few days (and i pray that i won't keep you waiting any longer, i really am sorry for those who have waited months or years)