Chapter 1: ~ WARNINGS! ~
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Hello~!
Thanks for stopping by!
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Here are some things you need to know before reading this Fan-Fiction:
• First and Foremost, all chapter’s [with the exception of Core & Smut Chapters] will be somewhat short to prevent burnout.
• Second, I’m writing this in my free time! How much y’all get is how much I have time for. I won’t proofread each chapter thoroughly either. Typo’s are bound to happen, as well as grammatical errors, and you all just have to deal with it. *shrugs*
• Third, English is not my first language!!!
• Fourth, don’t come at me if what I write “isn’t in character”. While I try my best to be true to each characters verbiage, gestures and etc. momma’s gotta have a little wiggle room for the good stuff. I'm a thirsty bitch. I can't be accurate and thirsty. It's not (entirely) possible.
•Fifth, the Reader-Insert of this Fan-Fiction is described as a Nonbinary Bisexual!FAB with body dysmorphia, who has Top Surgery Scars and the ability to change their genitalia (in much later chapters). They prefer having an androgynous look so that is how they’re seen by the other characters 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time while they’re preforming, they are masculine presenting for their female fans.
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Also, I cannot stress this enough:
READ THE TAGS THOROUGHLY
They'll be updated with each chapter and serve as additional content warnings.
If you don’t like any of them. Don’t read this fan-fiction. It’s as simple as that.
I don't want any of you reading something you don’t like/what you can't handle. I'd feel bad. Kinda. Maybe. Just don't tell me about it and I'll be okay I guess.
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Lastly, if you're here because you've read any of my other fan-fic’s, "Hello! I hope you're doing well! Heavenly Father's Favorite Child is on a short break because I want to write something for a different fandom! Don't worry though, they will be back before you know it! As for The (Not So) HotFix, it will be written alongside this Fan-Fiction but will be given priority since I favor Date Everything! right now. In the meantime, please enjoy this fan-fiction and have a nice day! Thank you!"
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Anyways!
Thanks for the Support!
And if you have any inappropriate questions, negative comments, or “constructive criticism”,
keep them to yourself
because
I don’t care
(lmao)
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Sincerely,
Author-nim
Chapter 2: Before The Show
Summary:
Just a little insight before we really get into it.
Didn't reveal too much. I want to leave y'all guessing about your past.
Enjoy.
I'll post more within 48 hours or so!
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It’s almost showtime.
The rapid beating of your heart is pounding in your ears like a drum.
It’s so loud that you almost miss the five-minute reminder on your phone.
Make-up, rehearsal and costuming all went by in a blur of bright lights, grabby hands and frantic faces. In the process, feelings were hurt, microphones were smashed out of frustration and staff were pushed past their limits and reduced to tears, but at least all the panic kept your mind off… things.
Now that it’s just you and your (deeply despised) reflection sitting alone in the darkness of your dressing room, you wish you had something around to distract you…
From yourself.
Your eyes are cold, pensive, as they initiate the nightly ritual of examining your bare upper body.
If looks could kill, you would’ve done yourself in ages ago.
Across your abdomen, underneath the two tiny scars of your relinquished womanhood lies the source of all your sorrow and agony. It’s revenge at its finest, in the form of a horrifically large, glowing white disfigurement that significantly contrasts the red glowing patterns etched into the rest of your demon body.
It’s the mark of a scorned Demon Hunter; a constant reminder of the accident that cost you the love of life. A mark that you’ve slaved over for more than 100 years, and that you wish would just disappear, but that just gets worse the hungrier you get.
And by the seven rings of Hell are you STARVING.
The only thing that you can eat, however, has been scarce lately, and it’s all thanks to the most popular K-pop Girl Band in the world right now. The multi-platinum, Idol-award winning artists known as Huntrix. Or, as you’ve come to know them as: the three Demon Hunters that can end your life in the blink of an eye if you’re not careful.
Yes, you know this, and yet you’re still their biggest fan.
You have all their records, limited edition/collab merchandise, light-stick variants, signed headshots/posters, member designed apparel, and the list goes on and on. At first, you thought it was going to be just a phase, you’ve had them from time to time in your long years of living, but as you listened to their music, you realized they were all struggling with the same feelings you were: loneliness, low self-worth, the need for forgiveness and constant approval, etc. and before you knew it, you were hooked.
Going up against them wasn’t on your yearly Bingo Card. If anything, you wanted to silently support them for the rest of their careers and continue as you were, laying low and lurking in the shadows for your next meal.
But after attending Huntrix’s Final Concert of their World Tour last Friday, that had to change.
Much to your dismay, during the encore of their performance, the Golden Honmoon made its appearance within the waves of their fangirling crowd. And you would be lying if you said that the sight didn’t make your blood run cold and your palms sweat profusely.
If it was successfully sealed, your food would be sealed away forever, and you were toast.
You’re only doing what you must do to survive. You remind yourself of this as you slip on a black tank top and shrug on your black leather jacket, finally hiding your abdominal eyesore. Otherwise, you would let them seal the Golden Honmoon forever and kiss Gwi-Ma ‘goodbye’ for good.
As you run your fingers through your short, red streaked jet-black hair and cross your legs, the chains dripping down your black cargo pants give a little jingle. It’s not exactly the most comfortable outfit you can wear on stage, but it’s the one that will get you the biggest rise out of the crowd, so you’re bearing with it.
Sex sells after all.
Even if you’re gender neutral.
“It’s only been a week, and I already have all of South Korea eating out of the palm of my hand,” You chuckle softly as you admire the Weekly Song Rankings on your phone. ‘Monster’ the main title song of your album, has stayed strong at 3rd place since its release, just under Huntrix’s How it’s Done and Golden. Just as you had hoped. It’s something you would be proud of, if it wasn’t necessary for your survival. “Hopefully, after tonight, it’ll be the entire world.”
Chapter 3: Monster
Summary:
Dinner is served, and three unexpected guests are in attendance.
What does this mean for you later?
Notes:
This chapter is so long...
Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy it.
Comments are appreciated, but not necessary.
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The entire stadium is buzzing with excitement.
Everyone is excited to see who “Soul Eater” really is.
While you’ve been active on social media, frequently posting acoustic versions of your songs and hyping everyone up for your debut concert, it’s all been without face. Despite this, you’ve quickly soared to the top of all the charts, right under Huntrix, which is insanely impressive for someone who just crawled out of the woodwork one evening.
Are you a boy? Are you a girl? Tall or short? Thick or thin?
Nobody knows.
The sound of your voice does very little for the imagination and gives nothing away as you can sing both high and low notes with ease, so you’re one big mystery that everyone has been dying to unravel.
Even Huntrix.
After they heard through the grape vine that you were a big fan of theirs, they used it as an excuse to ask Bobby to reschedule their plans for today so they could attend your show. It was only fair that they did onto you as you did onto them. Even if the feeling wasn’t completely mutual… yet.
And it didn’t take long for you to grow on them, in very different ways.
Zoey’s been obsessed with figuring out what you might look like. She’s been scouring the internet for any clues you might have accidentally versed in radio podcasts or self-recorded videos, but everything she’s scrounged up has sadly led to nothing but dead ends. It’s a little disheartening, but it’s done very little to stop her from fangirling about you into the wee hours of the morning. She just can’t seem to get you off her mind.
Mira, on the other hand, has been listening to clips of your voice nonstop and on repeat, smitten by both your range and unique pronunciation of lyrics. Your vocals are both bitter like dark chocolate and sweet like fresh honey, and your lyrics have both the perfect bite and amount of empathy to make anyone swoon. And swoon she does, but she’d never admit it.
And Rumi? Well… Rumi is convinced that you’re hiding something.
Why?
Because she’s been hiding her patterns since she was four years old. She can tell when someone has something to hide, and you… you’re definitely trying to hide something.
But what?
What is there for you to hide?
The endless possibilities have kept her up at night more times than she’d like to admit. There must be a deeper meaning behind all your lyrics since they’re laced with so much honesty and anguish, but until she’s able to sit down and talk to you, all her thoughts are just baseless theories.
Until the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy your music, and she couldn’t hate it even if she tried. It speaks to her too much. Needing someone to talk to, feeling as if you’re not enough, feeling like a monster… are all things that bother her daily. How could she ever hate your work?
But we digress.
Let’s get back to the show.
“Aha! Got it!” An overexcited Zoey squeals as she finishes popping the batteries into your light stick; a crudely drawn smiley face with x’s for eyes and its tongue sticking out. “This is so exciting! No one’s ever sold out a venue one week after their debut! Do you think they’ll play a new song at the end? What do you think they’re going to look like?” She ponders with a finger to her lips, “Do you think they work out?”
She’s dressed from head to toe in handmade ‘Søul Eater’ gear and is out here putting all the other fans to shame with her dedication. She even made matching shirts for Mira and Rumi. They couldn’t go to a concert as big as this without foolproof disguises after all! Or at least that’s the excuse she’s running with.
“Looks aren’t everything, Zo.” Mira huffs with a smile and pops her batteries in with ease, learning from Zoey’s mistakes, “Nowadays, most artists put on a mask for their fans. The only way to know what they’re truly like is by listening to the sound of their soul.” She taps Zoey lightly on the head with the stick and chuckles when she guffaws in return.
Mira’s words come off a little stern, but there’s no malice behind them. She’s just looking out for her girls. The last thing she wants is for all of them to assume that this ‘Søul Eater’ is a good person and be proven horribly wrong. Like last time, and the time before that and the time before that and the time… ahem… anywaysssss…
Ever the vigilant leader, Rumi is quick to catch onto Mira’s kindheartedness and immediately chimes in to support her, “Mira’s right, Zoey. We’re not here because we want to know what they look like. We’re here to support a fellow artist, whose voice and lyrics resonate with all of us on both a mental and spiritual level.” Her patterns shiver under her clothes, calling her out on her lies, but she ignores them. “This is a great opportunity to learn what our fans relate to and incorporate it into our own songs.”
“And this is why you’re our leader, Rumi.” Mira smiles and shoves her shoulder playfully.
“Yeah, isn’t Rumi the best? She always knows exactly what to say!” Their little maknae pulls them all in for a group hug but that’s all she gets to do because-
It’s showtime.
As the lights dim into darkness, and red fog begins to fill the stage and creep into the pit, a stadium-shaking scream from the masses nearly knocks the three Huntresses off their feet. The energy in the air has turned electric.
Miscellaneous torn pictures of happy couples, bloodied blades and Voodoo symbols strobe across the large led screens in time with the opening drummer who’s absolutely killing it. There’s fire erupting from the edges of the stage in time with hundreds of flashing red light sticks bobbing in the crowd. Dancers dressed in black are taking turns throwing themselves across the stage in a frenzy of gymnastic feats that have the audience growing impossibly louder.
And yet, through it all, a calm voice echoes, “Aaaaare yoooou readyyyyy?”, as a single spotlight brings everyone’s attention to the figure slowly stepping onto the stage.
In all your shiny leather and silver chained glory, you finally make your appearance and cause the entire stadium to go feral. The three Huntresses gazes fall onto you one by one, each one more surprised than the last.
You’re so… unbothered (and effortlessly sexy).
There are hundreds of screaming guys and gals attempting to reach out and touch you as you walk by, including Zoey, yet your gaze doesn’t waver, and your stride remains confident, something that Mira respects.
But Rumi isn’t as easily swayed.
It only takes one glance at her friends for Rumi to conclude that they can’t see what she can.
There’s a thick black aura surrounding you, choking you into submission.
It sends a shiver down Rumi’s spine because she’s felt it before, but she can’t remember when. Nevertheless, it’s drawing her to you, compelling her to meet your eyes and run her fingers along your hidden skin-
“They’re not what I was expecting,” Mira crosses her arms and studies you as you walk by, maintaining her cool image despite the wild crowd around her, “But I’m also not disappointed. I vibe with it.”
Zoey, on the other hand, is no better than the rest of the crowd, “Oh. My. Gosh! Guysssss!!! They’re so hot!!! Rumi!!! Mira!!! Are you guys seeing this?! Look at how many chains they’re wearing!!! They’re so metal!”
The crowd rages, but in your mind, there’s nothing but silence. The world is moving in slow motion around you.
Under the spotlight, you feel that, for once in your life, everything is as it should be.
But there’s always room for improvement.
With a flip of your hair, you spin the guitar on your back into your arms and magically produce a pick between your nimble fingers, “Let’s get it!!!”
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((In order to feel the full effect of this chapter, I highly recommend/beg you to listen to the song “Monster” by: Day6 either before or while reading this next part. Please and thank you! You won’t be disappointed, I promise!))
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As your voice rings out over the loud speakers, the ground shakes and goosebumps fizzle along the arms of all the fans. Your voice is so controlled and yet it holds so much emotion. Sorrow and agony drip from every word you speak, as if you’ve felt a pain that no one else has; one that’s tearing you apart from the inside out.
I can only peek at other’s happiness.
I can’t even dare to dream it.
I’m a monster, so nobody… nobody wants me.
It’s obvious that the crowd wants to chime into your song. To join you in your sad soliloquy and let you know that you’re not alone but all they can do is cling to their light sticks or clench their fists as they stand motionless with tears streaming down their faces.
Rumi, Mira and Zoey, however, aren’t moved in the slightest. Instead, they’re looking amongst each other with concern. As much as they want to ride this emotional rollercoaster…
Something isn’t right.
This type of instantaneous passionate influence isn’t natural. It’s one of the first things they are taught in their fight to strengthen the Honmoon, something that only Demons can do, but if that’s true… then why aren’t their weapons reacting to you?
There’s no time to think about it.
The Honmoon is throbbing in patches amongst the audience, burbling with the threat of rupture. Something wants to get out, and at this rate, it’s going to get its way very soon. Especially since the Hunters can only watch in silence.
“Rumi?” Zoey’s voice shakes as she watches the patches grow in number, surrounding them.
“I know,” The fearless leader holds her maknae a little closer and motions for Mira to do the same, “but we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Just stay close.”
“But if we don’t do anything-
Rumi quickly cuts Mira off with a stern look, “We can’t do anything with this many people around. We, at least, have to wait until the lights go out. We don’t want to cause a panic.”
I’m also a being who knows love and sheds tears,
Let me in!
Let me be!
LET ME LIVE!
In this cursed silence with no answer, I scream out,
“I’m a monster! So nobody… nobody wants me!!!”
All the emotions you’ve been holding back these past hundred years are finally being set free. The weight on your chest is getting lighter. Your mind is blank, solely focused on your music for once, and nothing can stop you now. Not when you have everyone under your thumb. This is what you were made for. This is what you’ve been missing all these years.
Love and appreciation.
But mostly a full belly.
I don’t bite. Don’t stay away from me.
Lonely night, I’m so sick of this loneliness.
As your band takes over to give you a much-needed break, you look out into the audience and grin hungrily. The Honmoon is breaking and giving way to your much-needed meal. Demons are slowly crawling out of fiery tears, entranced by your song, and hurriedly encroach on the stage. They do so mindlessly, under the influence of the curse you’ve been burdened with, and look up at your sweaty, disheveled state with glazed over eyes, as willing sacrifices to your hunger.
As you kneel and reach out into the crowd, they fight for your hand amongst their human counterparts, making you chuckle. It’s funny how clueless and hopelessly enamored they are. They’re completely unaware that they’ll be devoured soon.
Fuck… you can already feel their bulbous, licorice tasting, tar-like souls sliding down your throat. Hungry. So hungry…
I’m a monster, so nobody, nobody wants me…
The red fog around you is thickening and begins to take a horrifying shape, a massive two-headed snake with ruby red eyes. An image you’re ashamed of and yet have no choice but to accept if you wish to eat.
“You monster!!! How could you?!”
That woman’s annoying voice echoes in the back of your mind as the snake wraps around your form. She never shut up when she was alive and still can’t seem to do so in death. You hear her every time you try to eat. Every time your stomach growls with hunger. But this time it’s different. It’s so unbearably loud.
“We trusted you! Treated you like family and this is how you repay us?!”
You feel like you’re going to be sick with how excruciating the pain from your wound is getting. Normally it’s not this bad, but then again, you’re not normally devouring so many demon souls at once.
“You two-faced demon snake! Die! Die, damn you! Die!”
Your face is heating up, and your heart is about to beat out of your chest.
Stop it. Shut up.
You flip your hair out of your face as you rip a broken chord on your guitar and immediately cringe.
“Damn you! Damn you straight to hell! My daughter… my daughter didn’t deserve this-
“SHUT UP!”
With an ear-piercing screech, the music cuts out and a thunderous sound akin to popping bubble wrap echoes throughout the stadium as spotlights take turns offing themselves. As you crumple to your knees like a shattered vase, your snake behind you pulls back, ready to strike… but then freezes in place.
Much like everything else.
Time is literally standing still.
At the first sight of trouble, those immune to your tricks move to unsheathe their weapons but are stopped by Rumi, who’s gaze is fixated on your struggling form, “…wait. Look.” In a flourishing of sparks and hundreds of haunting wails, waves of glittering purple hues ripple off your form, through the crowd and slowly meld into the tattered Honmoon, patching it up as if nothing had happened. “They’re not hurting anyone. They’re healing the Honmoon.”
And that’s not all.
With a snap of your fingers, the two-headed beast behind you glitches back to life and with a thunderous roar, swiftly slithers through the stadium, gobbling up all the demons its summoned until there’s no trace of them left.
“That’s so… badass.” Mira mumbles under her breath as their weapons disintegrate into tiny crystal shards.
“How’re they doing this, Rumi?” Their maknae watches the sight, mesmerized. There are hundreds of demons in the stadium being taken out in mere seconds. The efficiency is unbelievable. They couldn’t pull off something like this even with all their training.
“I… I don’t know.” Rumi reluctantly admits.
It's a sight they’ve never seen before, and something that Celine has never mentioned to them. All their lessons have taught them that they’re the only ones capable of striking down demons, but as you struggle onto your feet, you’re contradicting everything they know.
“Good boy…” The Hunter’s hear you whisper as the monster retreats into the comfort of your arms like a puppy. Despite being a demon, it’s almost adorable as it coos and rubs against you for more love and comfort.
You’ve tamed a demon? Impossible. Just what are you?
As the souls of the damned digest, your mind grows silent once more, and it couldn’t come soon enough. If you had to listen to that damned woman’s voice for one more second-
You take a deep breath.
Just… forget about it.
It’s over now. Everything went according to plan. You can breathe again.
It’s kind of sad… You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt this whole.
This energized.
This full.
After this, you never want to feel that way again. You refuse to let yourself return to how you once were, lurking in the shadows and feeding on the souls of the weak.
Nothing can stop you now.
“You did such a good job… Go back to sleep now.” As you nuzzle your not-so-little pet’s snout, they let out a low growl and fade away into the withering red fog along the stage, leaving the three Huntresses with more questions than answers. “We still have a show to finish.”
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Chapter 4: After The Show || Jinu
Summary:
I like to think that Jinu is a banter-er/someone who likes to bicker with others. So enjoy.
Also, kissing.
And lore.
Because why not?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
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Thanks to both you and your staff’s hard work and dedication (and a shit ton of good luck) the rest of your concert goes by without a hitch in a flurry of confetti, bright lights and wicked guitar solos. By the end of the night, you’ve signed more posters, albums and sweaty tits than you can count, but it was all worth it. Even if your wrist feels like it’s about to fall off, at least everyone (including yourself) had a wonderful time.
Dinner aside, seeing the happy expressions of all your fans, the people who relate to your music, to your struggles, to you, has slightly shifted your outlook on your never-ending damnation. You could get used to this, even if it can’t last forever.
((What? Do you really think people won’t start to get suspicious of you after fifty years go by and you still look like you’re 20? Yeah, no, that’s not how this works. Keep moving along, Reader. Move along!))
The positive feedback is nice for a change, and it would have you planning out your next concert if you didn’t already have a date with your couch.
After a long hot shower, you change into a comfortable pair of black shorts and a black tank top, and towel-dry your hair as you mosey into the living room. Normally you don’t walk around your place showing off your patterns, but your loft is high enough above the city that it’s being obscured by overcast tonight. It won’t hurt you to show off the ink you got tatted over them to help lower your chances of being discovered by a Hunter.
As you put on your favorite program and flop down into your couch, you let out a long sigh of relief and allow your eyes to flutter closed. You’re so full, so content. You don’t need to move another muscle/eat for at least a week.
But.
You don’t want to wait that long to see your fans again. You’re too giddy for that.
In your food-drunken stupor, you decide that after a few days of rest, you’ll post a teaser of your next song, and maybe even play your guitar a bit in a Live video, but for right now all you want to do is relax-
“Knock knock.”
Your eyes shoot open, and any/all hope of future relaxation dies as a familiar figure strides into your living room through the balcony door, fifty-two stories up, like they own the place.
“Did you miss me?” Jinu gives you his signature annoying smirk and no time to answer,“What am I saying? Of course you did.”
Of course he’s picked now of all times to bother you.
Of course, he’s chosen today of all days to barge into your cozy loft and flash you that stupid smirk of his that makes you want to knock his head right off his shoulders.
Of course.
Of course.
As he makes himself comfortable in the lounge chair across from you, you groan loudly and sink deeper into your couch cushions. Stupid smug Jinu, in his stupid tight skinny jeans, silver chains and tourist reeking shirt.
The man has always found a way, good or bad, to weasel back into your life. It’s almost his hobby at this point, and a very dangerous hobby at that. There have been multiple occasions where Jinu has almost outed himself as a demon in broad daylight just to be near you, and you don’t know why.
Maybe he has a death wish?
Why else would he keep coming back no matter how many times you reject him?
“What’re you doing here, Jinu?” You manage through gritted teeth as you pinch your nose in frustration. “I thought I told you to leave me alone. We’re done. Finished. Through. You’re really starting to make this sad.”
“You wound me, really.” Jinu feigns offense, his grin only growing wider as he places a hand over his chest, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. "Is that all you think I’m after? Can’t a guy say ‘hello’ to an old friend with benefits?" He leans in with his head in his hands and a twinkle in his eye as if you can’t resist him and fuck it, you really can’t.
With anyone else this would be borderline creepy, but since it’s Jinu…
“We are not friends.” You hiss with a flash of gold in your gaze as a wisp of tyrannical red smoke lashes out and strikes Jinu across the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
At least… not anymore.
“You forfeited that title a long time ago when you...hah… just forget it.” You trail off.
It’s not worth your time.
Back in the day, the two of you got into a lot of trouble together, in terms of both shenanigans and intimacy. It didn’t matter where you went, there wasn’t a kink that wasn’t tried nor a farmer whose entire livestock didn’t disappear overnight. Yes, it had been nothing but fun and games, with no strings attached, until Jinu decided to… well…
The point is, Jinu is like a tick. Every time you try to rip him off you, he buries his head deeper into your skin. Now you’re stuck with him.
"That was unnecessary…” The man rubs his chest where the red smoke hit him and grunts in annoyance, “Fine, if you want the truth, I attended your concert tonight," He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “and I wanted to congratulate you on your debut.”
Uh-huh… sure.
You beg to differ.
As you finish drying your hair, you don’t miss the way Jinu’s eyes follow your every movement. Like a moth drawn to a flame, his shimmering golden eyes trace every inch of your inked skin exposed to him and silently beg you for permission to touch.
A permission you blatantly deny by avoiding his gaze.
“Whelp, you’ve congratulated me.” You click your tongue and wave your hand to dismiss him, wanting to get back to your date with your couch, “You can leave now. I have better things to do than talk to the likes of you-
“You look good too.” He continues with an overwhelming sincerity that can’t help but be muffled by slight hesitation. Your looks are a touchy subject. “Red really suits you. You should wear it more often.”
Purple mist flows from his fingers and pushes your damp locks out of your face, but you turn your head before he can see the tinge of pink on your cheeks, “Good-bye, Jinu.” You reiterate with a soft huff and relinquish your seat on the couch in favor of your bed upstairs, far, far away from the man. “You can see yourself out… just like you always have. I would say it was nice catching up with you, but I’m not nice nor do I care about anything you’ve said to me.”
As you move to leave, you’re startled backwards by Jinu’s arm jutting out and blocking your way. Which is new. He isn’t the type of man to stay where he isn’t wanted, or force himself on you so… what gives?
“Jinu, I mean it. I’m not in the mood.” You challenge him with a flash of your fangs, “Move.”
"You know, for someone who claims to not give a damn about me anymore, you sure do get worked up every time I'm around.” Jinu states firmly and refuses to budge. He meets your annoyed glare with an equally stubborn smirk. “Also, are we flirting or fighting? I can’t really tell anymore.”
“I’m going to sink my fangs into your throat if you don’t stop talking right now.”
“Still, proving my point.” He muses, clearly enjoying your obvious irritation. "Look, I promise, I just want to talk for a bit. Is that so terrible? Do you really hate me that much? It was fifty years ago-
“What exactly is so important that you have to hold me captive in my own living room?” You get up in Jinu’s flawless face that exudes perfection, to avoid talking about that and immediately regret your decision.
From this close, you’re able to breathe in the tiniest taste of his delectable soul from between his slightly parted lips.
It makes your mind momentarily buffer, but you shake it off before he can notice. “Don’t tell me you’re finally here to apologize?” You chuckle, “It’s too late for that.”
Jinu lets out a humorless laugh as he rolls his eyes.
"Apologize? Please." He snorts, "I’ll save my breath. You’d never accept an apology from me anyways. We both know you hold onto your grudges tighter than a drowning man clings to a life jacket."
As if things can’t get any worse for you, Jinu calls your bluff and licks his lips, gaze intense and eyes locked onto yours, "No, I’m here… because I know something you don’t know,” As you cock an eyebrow, Jinu can’t help but feel a little giddy. He’s got you hooked, “But it comes with a price.”
“Naturally.” You roll your eyes, “Name it.”
Knowing Jinu, it was either going to be something childish or completely unhinged, with no in-between. So, it catches you completely off-guard when he pats his lap and says, “Sit.”
To which you scrunch your nose up and scoff, “I’m not your dog.”
Only to be pulled into the demon’s arms.
“Jinu-
“Trust me…” He presses his nose to the top of your head and inhales softly, wanting to savor this moment. The smell of cinnamon and pears is still as strong as ever. He hasn’t held you in his arms like this since… well, he can’t remember when. Has it really been that long? “You’ll want to be sitting for this.”
“Why? What’s-
“The Hunters were at your concert tonight.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks. They would’ve brought you to your knees if you weren’t sitting down. “They saw the little stunt you pulled. They know.”
Oh…
Oh shit.
Oh fuck-
Unlike your calm and collected exterior, the inside of your mind is quickly becoming a symphony of alarms and screams. Have you already dug your own grave? Are they already plotting your downfall? No… this can’t be happening. They couldn’t have seen what you did. You literally stopped time.
“Why should I trust you after what you did to me?” You counter, your words like venom as you suppress the growing urge to nervously shake your leg, “How do I know this isn’t just another one of your attempts to get a rise out of me?”
Considering Jinu’s pattern of influence towards you, it’s a valid argument, but it’s not one that he finds amusing at this moment. If anything, the little remark triggers something in Jinu that you’ve never seen before.
With a furrow of his brow and a grind of his teeth, he growls, "Oh, for the love of- You think I'd make up something like this just for fun?" You attempt to avert your gaze from him, and he grabs your chin, forcing eye contact, "You really think I have nothing better to do than to come here and mess around with you?" He scowls, his annoyance showing. "Believe me or don't, see if I care. We’ve known each other for so long, I just thought I'd do you the favor of warning you. Even if we supposedly ‘hate each other’ you could at least pretend like you're grateful."
You’re the epitome of doubt.png as you stare Jinu down, but as you scour his features for even the slightest hint that he’s being deceitful, and don’t find any, you relax your shoulders and let out a sigh.
“Whatever, Jinu.” Every part of you is exhausted. You have no more fight left in you as you lay your head on his chest, “Thank you for the warning. Can I go to bed now?”
Oh, how Jinu has missed the way your body fits against his like a missing puzzle piece. It does things to him that he cannot fully explain with words alone and has him bumbling like an idiot.
“Y-You can fall asleep in my arms,” The demon mumbles, and you wonder if you’re already dreaming as he wraps his arms around you softly, “if you want. It’s the least I can do after bothering you so late.”
It’s a nice offer, but you’re afraid that accepting it might lead him on; make it seem like he has another chance with you. So as tempting as it sounds-
Your grip on his jacket tightens as you share breaths.
Jinu’s heart is beating rapidly in his chest. His chest that holds his tar-dripping, periwinkle glowing, delicious demon soul that’s just begging to be eaten. So robust, so ripe. You unconsciously lick your lips. Even though you’ve already stuffed yourself full tonight, those were nothing but third-rate demon souls. Weak underlings with no real power.
But Jinu’s soul is rich and flavorful. The best tasting soul you’ve ever had the pleasure of grazing through his lips. You always have room for a bite of it.
The perfect mesh of guilt, sorrow and mock confidence, it’s admittedly the whole reason you got involved with him in the first place. Each time you fucked, every time you kissed, you were left speechless as ripples of pleasure, unlike anything you’d ever felt before, crashed over you. And it didn’t help that Jinu enabled it, fucking you any which way you wanted, whenever you wanted, despite seeing the signs that it was taking a toll on you.
Both physically and mentally.
Nothing but a shell of your former self, your addiction to the taste became so strong that no other demon souls could sate you, and you went on a killing spree that almost cost you your life, all to fill the void in your stomach.
Ending things hurt, but it was necessary.
Ending things hurt, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want him still.
And he’s always quick to pick up on that fact.
With every bite of your lip and shift of your weight on his lap, he gets increasingly anxious to touch you, to kiss you, to ravish you just like he did back then. All because he knows exactly what your crumpled form means. It’s a habit of yours that he's quite familiar with.
"You know," He comments, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, "You’re still so easy to read, _______." The way your name rolls off his tongue stiffens your body. It’s playful. He’s scheming something. “You’re starving. Aren’t you?”
For you, yes.
A deep blush spreads across your cheeks like wildfire, confirming that Jinu’s right, but you refuse to abandon your cold façade in an attempt to maintain the upper hand. For you know that if you waver even the tiniest bit, Jinu will use it to his advantage to get what he wants.
“I just ate an audience full of demons,” You state matter-of-factly and move to escape his lap, “You’re seeing things, old man.”
"Oh, I'm seeing plenty," Amused by your denial, his voice lowers to a whisper in your ear as he draws you back into his arms, "I see the way you're trying to mask your hunger. But you can't fool me. I know exactly what you're craving, ________.”
“From one demon to another,” Jinu’s fingertip gently traces a path up your neck and along your jawline, until he’s hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “There’s no hiding that you’re never truly satisfied.”
You swallow hard as he leans in, teasing you, tempting you.
The sound of your phone ringing isn’t loud enough to be heard over the desperate breaths you’re exchanging between each other.
Just a little taste wouldn’t hurt, right?
Jinu's breath hitches ever so slightly as your faces inch closer. He can feel the familiar pull, the magnetic energy crackling between the two of you that’s destroyed villages in its wake. It’s the definition of unholy, unnatural, and brings the memories of stolen moments in the past rushing back full force.
Like the time in the Geisha Gardens when he took you under the glow of the new moon and your patterns shimmered a fluorescent pink akin to the shade plastered on your cheeks. You were so beautiful, so soft, and easy to break.
A purple ember glows between your lips as the warmth of your staggered breaths stroke each other’s cheeks like two long lost lovers reuniting.
When he finally closes the gap, you don’t resist.
You can’t.
Despite the weak noise of shock you utter, you grab the front of his shirt and reciprocate with a passion unlike he anticipated. You’re desperate, needy, hungry. Before you know it, one kiss turns into two, two into three, until you’re straddling Jinu’s lap, devouring him like a starving animal.
And he’s all too happy to let you.
Firm hands on your waist and a whine in his throat, his hips rock with yours in a languid motion that begs for more as you pull away with a wisp of his soul on your tongue. Even as you look down at him like a predator would its prey, he lets out a breathless laugh and runs his hands through your hair, “You’re insane.”
To which you reply, “Oh please, you love it.” as he pulls your head back and decorates your neck with pretty purple and pink bites that burn so good, your patterns start to have a mind of their own. Every inch of skin he touches, throbs and flashes with need.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
This time you hear it: the urgent ringing of your cellphone cutting through the sexual tension in the air, but a loud thwack follows even quicker. “Ignore it.” A frustrated Jinu urges as he tilts your head and crashes your lips together once more in a kiss that’s more possession than affection.
You open your mouth to protest but it dies on your waring tongues as Jinu’s hands tentatively start to wander between your thighs, asking for permission. It’s something you shouldn’t encourage and should stop immediately but are no longer in the right mind to do. Not when Jinu's cradling you like a precious object. Something he's never done before. What's going on with him? You'd inquire, but are too tied up at the moment.
Eager fingers knead over the fabric of your clothing, and trace invisible patterns along your hips and pelvis. Jinu knows every sensitive spot, curve, and place that makes you arch and shiver. He can feel the tension in your body, the way you're trying to resist, but he knows you better than you know yourself. He knows exactly how to undo you, to break the dam holding back your emotions, what to do to make you weak.
“You know you want this.” He mumbles softly against the curve of your neck as his hands attempt to shimmy down your shorts, “You know you want me.”
The bulge in his jeans is pressing right against your molten core, reminding you of the countless times you’ve given into him in the past, and how he’s had you in every way imaginable, all without so much as a peep of protest from you.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Gods, this person is persistent. Can’t they take a hint?
“I should probably get that-
With a feral-like snarl, Jinu grabs your face with both of his hands and crushes his lips against yours repeatedly. He’s so, so greedy. He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself and kisses the way he fucks. Desperate, demanding, intoxicating. You can’t get enough of it. You always need more. As he slides in his tongue to claim the heat of your mouth, you moan and grind down on the straining bulge in his jeans, drawing a hiss from him-
Ring! Ring! Ring!
“Oh for Gwi-Ma’s sake,” The demon finally roars into the phone, “WHAT?!”
Dazed and confused from Jinu’s onslaught, you struggle to find your voice as his face pales and he quickly hangs up the phone, “What…? Who was it?”
In the blink of an eye, Jinu's playful demeanor has vacated the premises, “Bobby, Huntrix’s manager.”
“And you hung up?!” Panic courses through you as you move for your phone, but Jinu is quick to intercept and pin your wrist, halting your movements. His grip is firm, almost demanding.
"You aren’t seriously going to call him back, are you!?" He growls, his grip only tightening, “He works for the people that kill us for a living!”
“What choice do I have?” You challenge him, thunder rumbling in your chest. “If I don’t answer, it’ll only make me look more suspicious.” You try to take your hand back from Jinu, but the man won’t budge. “Damn it, Jinu, let go. I need to see what he wants.”
Jinu's jaw clenches at your stubbornness. He knows you're right. Refusing to speak with the man would only raise suspicions, but the thought of you talking your way into potential danger has his protective side rearing its head. Even if he has no right to, he still cares about you. Really. Truly. More than the air that he breathes. More than the sun loves the moon.
"Soul..." He curses under his breath and reluctantly releases your wrist but not you from his lap. “Fine… but if you say anything stupid, I’m ending the call.”
“What are you, my mother? Don’t act as if you care,” You scoff, and press redial. “If you really cared about me, you wouldn’t have stabbed me in the back all those years ago.” Just as the phone picks up, it’s silenced by a wisp of purple smoke. “Jinu-
You can’t bring yourself to finish scolding the man whose face is painted with the pain of a thousand needles. Gaze low, he takes a deep breath and rests his head on your shoulder.
Is this… remorse?
You never thought you’d see the day.
So much so that you struggle with how to handle the situation. Do you hug him? Forgive him? What do you do? You’re not good at this type of thing. Emotions aren’t something you’re very compatible with. If, at all. Reading people is hard for you, because in the end nothing matters. Everyone dies or leaves, or both.
Your words sting Jinu like an angry bee. As much as he hates the fact that you're right, hearing you throw his past mistakes back in his face still hurts. Normally he’d say something equally as petty and witty in return but… not today. Not again. Things need to change between you two. Especially if he wants to get back on your good side and potentially have the relationship with you that he’s always wanted.
“Just… please be careful, ______.” He reinforces his plea with the use of your real name, something he only does when he wants to be sincere, and whispers under the sound of you redialing Bobby, “I can’t lose you again.”
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Notes:
As always, comments are appreciated but not necessary
And if anyone does any fanart or anything lmk in the comments
It itches my brain
Chapter 5: ~ 100 Subs ~
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I’m not a very sappy person, but I still want to say ‘thanks’ to all of you for over 100+ subs! I honestly never thought this story would get this much love. Especially since it’s something I only write in my free time.
Also, after reading a comment on a bookmark, I would like to take this time to point out, that I do not see the “Reader” as my OC. All Reader-Insert fanfic’s that I write contain Y/N’s with nicknames, a deep backstory, complex opinions and etc. to make the story more interesting.
~ Anyways ~
Thank you for loving my fanfic💖
See you next time!
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Chapter 6: The Turning Point
Summary:
It's... complicated.
Notes:
I couldn't find a way to work it into the chapter so I'll say it here.
You are living with them because they don't have enough evidence of you being a demon. They don't want to kill you unless you're a threat to the human population. Think of it like that stupid reality TV show " Big Brother " or whatever the fck it's called idk. The only reason Rumi is determined at the end is because she thinks you showed your true colors while she was away. This will be resolved in the next chapter. I promise.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
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((Note: In order to feel the full effect of this chapter, I highly recommend/beg you to listen to the song “Healer” by: Day6 either before or while reading this next part. Please and thank you! You won’t be disappointed, I promise!))
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First Jinu, and now… this.
Stupid Huntrix and their stupid sweet-talking manager.
You’re convinced that Bobby could sell hunting gear to an astronaut if he wanted to. The man is very persuasive, just too good at his job, which is why you now find yourself under contract and deep in the Lioness’s Den (much to Jinu’s displeasure).
As soon as you signed the papers, Bobby wasted no time moving you right in with Huntrix. He claimed it was easier for him to keep an eye on you all this way, but one look at the door to your “new room” told you otherwise. Left behind were impressions of oddly shaped stickers, and letters that spelled out ‘Mira’s Room. Keep Out!’ which let you know whose idea it really was to have you move in; and in the room between Rumi and Zoey, no less.
But you kept your mouth shut for the greater good of everyone’s peace of mind.
Truthfully, Mira hadn’t been too keen on switching rooms. She was a creature of habit. Everything had its own place and its own space to coexist, but with some encouragement from her gal pals she eventually gave in, “for the greater good”.
At first, you were overly cautious about everything you did around the huge condo, in fear that you might slip up and expose yourself but, much to your surprise, Huntrix didn’t push you beyond what you were willing to share.
Meals together were civil, discussions were short, sweet and to the point, and all of you helped each other out around the house, during photoshoots and recordings without any problems. Mira even genuinely complimented you on your tattoos the day you felt confident enough to wear a tank top around them.
Like you, they were doing a damn good job at feigning ignorance, but one of you would have to break eventually.
It was only a matter of time.
The only thing you can say that you did notice was that one of them always had you in their line of sight. You were never left alone for too long, unless you were in the privacy of your own room or studio and even then, you could feel their eyes on you; either from a hidden camera, or one of them poorly hidden behind a plant on your balcony.
While that last one was kind of cute and had you cracking a smile every time you spotted Zoey’s hair buns peeking out of a bush, it was also annoying, because you hadn’t been able to hunt for food in what felt like an eternity (but had only been a couple of days, relax).
If you so much as sneezed, one of them was there with a tissue. If you tried to leave the house, one of them made up an excuse to tag along with you. You couldn’t even sneak away while they were out promoting their new song or doing an interview, because Bobby scheduled your shit at the same time as them. Something that you can only assume was also their idea.
Most days you were stuck to them like a mouse in a glue trap.
But!
As much as they’d been a pain in your side, you’d also been kindly returning the favor.
There was nothing wrong with a little friendly fire in the form of a flirtatious wink or a lift of your shirt to reveal your abs. Both had Rumi and Zoey blushing like crazy and averting their eyes faster than you could blink but had Mira rolling her eyes. She wasn’t impressed. Which was why, most of the time, she was the one stuck with night guard duty.
On the nights it was Mira’s turn to watch you, the two took to her room down the hall to unleash their giggles and exchange stories about any run-ins they’d had with you. Like the time you had walked out of the bathroom, hair dewy and skin blushing, with nothing but a towel around your waist as Zoey was coming out of her room. Or when Rumi slipped up the stairs and you effortlessly caught her in your strong arms, only letting go once she reassured you that she was okay.
But it was also the things that you didn’t think twice about doing that you’d noticed had an even bigger effect on them.
Such as blowing their hair dry for them (after you noticed they were going to go to bed with it wet), making breakfast at the crack of dawn for everyone, opening doors for them, carrying grocery bags into the house without being asked to, and making sure they were tucked in under a nice fluffy blanket after they’d fall asleep in the living room from writing songs all night.
If only Mira had been as easy to sway, but she was (and still is) an enigma to you.
Her stoic/stern demeanor contradicts her outgoing and fierce attitude, in the same way that her obvious attraction to you contradicts her desire to punch you in the face.
Just the other day you accidentally brushed shoulders with her in the hall, and when you tried to play it off, she kabedon-ned you into the wall and whispered a warning in your ear so sinful, you were hugging the wall like a lifeline afterwards. Knees buckled and shaking, both thoroughly scared and aroused at the same time.
After that, you were sure that she was going to end up being the most problematic of the group, but it turned out to be quite the opposite after your near fatal accident that was argumentatively the turning point of your relationship with the girls.
The day had started off like any other: with you making breakfast and everyone helping each other pick out their outfits as Bobby mindlessly prattled off your schedule. And while there were minor hiccups, like having to drive all the way back home because Zoey forgot her lucky bracelet in her room, everything had been (for the most part) moving right along schedule.
The cameras were angled perfectly for Huntrix’s first live viewing of their new single ‘Golden’, the bass was so lit it had even Bobby busting a move, and outside thousands of excited fans were anxiously waiting to file in. But as the second chorus came around, the unthinkable happened.
Rumi’s voice cracked.
Not once, but twice.
And you would be lying if you said that it didn’t have everyone concerned.
The fearless leader tried to play it off with a smile, and a “five-minute break”, but as soon as she stepped off the stage, you knew she wasn’t coming back. That face she’d been making… was one you knew all too well. It was the face of someone trying to mask and shoulder a pain only known by their lonesome.
And the tiny waft of it that had drifted your way made your mouth water…
But your blood run cold.
Because never had you ever thought that a human soul smelled delicious. It was impossible for you. Your cursed prevented you from feeling this way about them… which meant that Rumi either wasn’t human, or you were going insane from starvation.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to dwell on it, because once everyone realized Rumi wasn’t coming back, the show was cancelled, and Mira and Zoey started to pack it up despite Bobby’s pleas for them to persuade her to come back. If their leader wasn’t going to perform, neither were they (and you didn’t blame them).
They’d just have to reschedule the show for another time-
WHY?!
Pain, sorrow, and helplessness crashed over into you as a distorted voice (it seemed only you were able to hear) threw you from your seat and onto your knees. Every bit of anguish, every shred of doubt that the voices owner was feeling, effortlessly swallowed you whole; to the point where it felt like someone was ripping your heart out of your chest.
And the pain only grew as a ripple of red passed underneath your feet.
The Honmoon-
There was no time to react.
An earthquake strong enough to knock everyone on their asses furiously trailed the rupture and took no prisoners.
The stage roared and waned in pain as it tried to keep itself upright.
Sparks rained down onto the stage as wires tore and spotlights exploded.
Screams rang out one by one as everyone scrambled for cover, but only one scream had you by the throat. One you never thought you’d hear from someone with the personality of a rock.
“ZOEY!” Mira’s panicked voice was a slap across your face amongst the chaos, but even with Mira’s warning, the maknae wouldn’t have been able to move out of the way in time.
So, you did the only thing you could do as you moved faster than your mind could process…
And dove in just in time to shelter Zoey from the fallen stage truss, shattering your back with a resounding crack that had everyone in the vicinity wide-eyed and in shock.
No one dared to be the first one to move, even after the tremors settled, because no one wanted to be the first to pronounce you dead.
As the warm feeling of blood trickled down your face, Zoey’s began cycling through a myriad of emotions. She couldn’t understand why someone- why a demon like you would sacrifice yourself for a human like her. Being a fan was one thing, but this type of dedication was on a whole other spectrum. A spectrum she didn’t think you were capable of living on.
All her life she’d been told that demons don’t feel emotions.
That they only thought of humans as their next meal.
Yet that day you protectively loomed over her, desperate to keep her safe, with both happiness and relief in your eyes.
You were relieved to see that she was okay.
And that was all she needed to start questioning everything she knew about your kind.
All that she needed to start trusting you.
After that, Zoey tried everything she could to get Rumi to change her mind about you; to get her to see you as more than just a namesake, but the Huntress refused to believe anything she told her. She was convinced you had poisoned her in some way while she had been absent, and her attitude only worsened when Mira stepped in and vouched for her. The eldest didn’t even take her side, simply stated facts, but the conversation quickly turned into an argument that had everyone red in the face and tired from tears.
You were ruining everything.
Everything she'd they’d worked so hard to achieve.
And Rumi wasn’t going to take it any longer.
Friend or Foe, you had to go.
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Notes:
The next chapter is already done but I'm going to wait a few days to post it because I want to keep engagement up.
Hopefully y'all liked this chapter. The next one will be centered around you and Rumi, and it will contain mild adult themes, but nothing TOO spicy. Keep your socks on, I'm going to get to it eventually.
I'm not just a smut writer (despite what my parasites tell me) I like build-up/writing stuff with hella plot. Makes the spicy stuff that much more enjoyable when it comes around.Thanks for all your support :)
P.S: Yes, I will be writing in the aquarium scene we didn't get to see in the movie, and I promise to do it justice.