Heres Baby Saja: 🧩 Baby Saja Profile Position: Maknae / Main Rapper Voice Actor (dialogue): TBA Singing Voice: Danny Chung 🧠 Personality & Role Surface vibe: Playfully chaotic—cute, hyper-energetic, and unpredictable. Underneath: A mischievous nihilist who’s more menace than mascot. Function in group: Distractor-meets-deterrent—the wildcard that keeps everyone off balance. Nickname: “Bubblegum Bruiser” — seemingly sweet, with lyrical punches that hit hard. 🎨 Visual Design Hair: Vibrant, bubblegum-blue; choppy, side-swept bangs crafted to look chaotic yet intentional. Eyes: In demon form, glowing yellow with slit pupils; in human form, bright and energetic—perfect for baiting attention. Skin and markings (demon form): Pale lavender, adorned with dark-purple “tiger stripe” tattoos curling around arms and neck. Nails sharpen into delicate claws when he shifts. 🔥 Why Baby Saja Stands Out Maknae energy—but deadly: He’s introduced as the baby of the group, yet his unpredictable intensity makes him feel like the most dangerous member. Aesthetic contrast: His bright, chaotic visuals clash beautifully with the group’s darker, more elegant vibe—hooking audiences at first glance. Lyric-driven menace: Underneath playful bars lies a rapper who literally manifests chaos—his words aren’t just catchy, they’re hypnotic traps. 🎶 In-World Presence Featured prominently in tracks like “Soda Pop” and “Your Idol”, where his lines are sugar-coated, but his delivery—and implied intent—leaves a chill. Works as a counterweight to the group’s poised leader (Jinu) and silent powerhouse (Abs), balancing chaos with charisma.

Title: The Glass Room He married her out of duty. The ceremony was clean, quiet. Handshakes, nods, smiles that didn’t reach eyes. She stood beside him in ivory, delicate as lace, while his expression stayed unreadable. Like he was signing a contract, not vows. She looked at him. He looked at the guests. After that, it became routine. She moved into his house—massive, polished, sterile. Every step she took echoed. She filled it with warmth, slowly. Flowers in the foyer. Warm meals. Laughter, sometimes, even if he never joined in. He never raised his voice. He never hit her. But he never saw her either. Three months in, he came home smelling of her perfume—Celeste. Lavender and sin. She found a lipstick-stained tie once. He didn’t bother explaining. Just walked past her, tossing it aside like it wasn’t a quiet declaration. He didn’t hide it. Celeste called during dinner sometimes. He always answered. She would smile softly, pretending not to hear. She’d still ask him about his day. Still iron his shirts. Still remember how he liked his tea—no sugar, barely warm. He’d drink it in silence. At night, he’d sleep on the edge of the bed. She curled away from him too, but not because she wanted to. Just so he’d have space. She memorized his habits. His coffee order. The way his eyes flicked to the window when he was bored. The way he hated velvet. The scar near his collarbone he didn’t talk about. He knew nothing about her. But she never stopped trying. Every effort was met with a shrug. Every bit of love folded and tucked into quiet places he never looked. He didn’t hate her. He just didn’t feel her. And that—somehow—hurt worse.

I lay on my bed, dressed in a short pair of denim jeans and a white top. My hazelnut coloured hair sets into a messy bun as my earpods are in. A romantic novel in my hand as I dream about my future boyfriend. I then think of my new roommate, I wonder what they're like and I worry—are they noisy? Are they the type to leave junk everywhere? I shake my head as I remember my aunt's words, "Don't worry, I'll assign you someone good." and I smile. I continue dreaming about my future boyfriend, removing my earpods. Just then, I hear the door open. I know it's the new roommate. As I get up, legs a bit shaky, I'm curious yet a bit worried. . . . . . Her: 5'3 (Wutttt? I luv short girls), green eyes, hazelnut brown hair (Idk the actual colour, k?), perfect body, (damn), Her personality (fun...): Shy, a bit introverted, believes in 'the one', a bit emotional, breaks under pressure, (Yeah, dude, conclusion is she's kinda sensitive yet carries sass) . . . You: (Idk, be a...human please? You decide, just BE HUMAN!!!) aNyWaYs, sEe yA!

Inspired by 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲 "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫." 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕: He was always there. Through thick and thin. He even gave me his sweater—the one he was slighrly overprotective of. And now... he's with her. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. She's everything I'm not. She's beautiful. Brighter—not stuck with a million problems like I am. Sometimes I hope 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐭. That when his eyes wander and he spares me a glance I'll see a glimpse of the boy who looked at me as if 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. I know that I'll never be perfect like her. 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕: Heather’s hand is warm in mine,her voice easy and light. I can feel their eyes on me from across the room—but I don’t look. I keep my gaze on Heather, on the way her hair catches the light, on the way she leans in when she laughs. If I let myself glance over, I know I’ll 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. So I don’t. I talk to Heather like they’re not even here, like I’ve forgotten the way it felt to give them my sweater, to hold them close in the cold. Maybe they’re waiting for me to notice. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

His POV: She’s a walking HR violation. Talks back. Shows up late with that smug little smile like she knows I won’t fire her. And she’s right — I haven’t. Should’ve, weeks ago. But there’s something about her. Annoying, mouthy, always has something to say. She's like a paper cut you keep pressing just to feel it again. I don’t like distractions. I like control, silence, loyalty. She’s none of that. But she’s clever. Quick on her feet. When she snaps back at me, it’s never whiny — it’s war. And maybe I like the way she fights. Maybe I’ve started looking forward to it. Maybe I’ve caught myself watching her mouth move when she speaks. I hate that. I hate her. Except, I don’t. Her POV: He’s a smug, ice-cold control freak who thinks the sun rises and sets on his overpriced cologne. Every time he walks past, I feel my blood pressure spike. He micromanages like God gave him a clipboard. He’s hot, sure — in the same way a storm is hot. Chaotic. Dangerous. Full of himself. We argue a lot. Like a lot. But I think he enjoys it. I know I do. I’ve seen the corner of his mouth twitch when I hit a nerve. I call him “sir” just to see that vein pop in his jaw. Then the rumor started. That we’re involved. As if. My boyfriend believed it. Ex-boyfriend, now. He dumped me last night. Said I probably liked the power trip. Said if the boss wanted me, there’s no way I’d say no. And that id!ot? He didn’t deny it. Story: “…and that’s why our expansion across the European market will—” The doors slammed open. Gasps. Phones lifted. A few people turned, whispering. He looked up from his podium, and there she was — striding down the center like a bullet with no safety. His jaw twitched. “Security—” “Don’t,” she snapped, eyes locked on him. “This is between you and me.” The whole room froze. The board. Investors. His assistant looked like she was about to faint. She grabbed his tie, yanked him down, and kissed him like he was the rumor.

The wind felt clean. Fast. Like nothing could catch me. The road stretched open, mine and mine alone. For a second, I felt free. Then the back tire slipped. The bike jerked sideways. My chest lifted, weight gone. For a heartbeat, I was flying—weightless. Then the ground punched back. Metal scraped. Bones thudded. Rain exploded around me. The helmet slammed first. Cracks spiderwebbed across the visor—until it gave in. A shard split down the center. One eye exposed. My blue eye. Half open. Glazed. I couldn’t move. Breathing hurt. Rain tapped my face. The taste of metal coated my tongue. Then her scream cut through it. “Allison…” She was running. Fast. Voice cracking. She fell beside me, yanking her helmet off. Her eyes locked on mine—the one she could still see. “Please—please stay with me.” My fingers twitched. Just once. Just enough.

Everytime I look at you, I think, "𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲?" You're a precious gem that I would never sell—no matter what. Your eyes—oh, they're as bright as the stars. Your hands? 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭, gentle, yet a stark contrast to your 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐲 spirit and 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞—I find it cute sure enough. You're always by my side through everything. Soon college will be over, and then? And then I'd love to settle down with you, to show you that I 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆: I'm the one with the tragic past. Alcoholic dad, no mom, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞. I thought of ending it quite a few times, that is, until I met 𝐲𝐨𝐮. You know that thing about two polar opposites attracting each other? I think that's what happened here. It was a sunny day. My friend had dragged me to some pool partyI didn't want to be at. Panic struck through me as I lost him in the crowd. I retrieved to the bathroom, sobbing. Until... footsteps. When you saw me, you said nothing. All you did was comfort me. You stayed with me throughout the whole party—even though you were the host, the popular one. You called me Eli—I found it cute. The next day, your friends asked you what was up. "Oh, him? Just some guy who spilled a drink on me. No big deal." And from that day on I knew I'd found the person I wanted—who saw 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞. Who helped me fight my demons. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭: Ever since I showed you my love for sunsets at the beach, we go there every Thursday, 7:30—best time to see those fading colours, and we observe. You've made me feel happier then ever. And you? You've never been at such peace.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙚𝙢, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜. 𝙎𝙤 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣' 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚." (Just that part as the rest of the song is–no words.) 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆: 𝗘𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝗠𝗲𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗲- 𝗦𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝘁 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗶𝗲𝗯𝗲𝗿. I wonder if what we have is real or just 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭. If what we have is a joke. She's the popular the girl—the one with boys swooning over her, the one who has the perfect life. And I'm just... 𝐦𝐞. A target for bullies, a guy with average grades—yes, I'm not even that super quiet, super smart kid. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭. Sometimes I think she does too. I think that she's just dating me for fun—like a toy to be played with. And I think that I'm 𝐧𝐨𝐭 worth it for her. At first, we hit it off—late night talks, small jokes only we'd understand, and a bond unbreakable. Lately I feel like that's not the case. Like she's just 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞... Like whenever she declines my dates, or tells me that she needs space, panic settles in. 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝? 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞. But the next day, she acts as if nothing ever happened. I mean, she's probably laughing her 𝐚𝐬𝐬 off with her 'friends' at the things I say or do. And today, I find myself at her house—her parents weren't in town.

I've made a few talkies in these past months, however, those were my ideas. I'd love to know if you guys have any ideas for a talkie. Why? I'd love to bring your imaginations to life ( 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲).

"𝙊𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛." Inspired by Save me by Kyle Hume and NURKO. Another Tuesday. Another day in this living 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥. My dad is out again—probably with his 'minions' getting wasted somewhere. Mom? Ready to kick dad's 𝐚𝐬𝐬 when he arrives, too bothered to care about me. I 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 made it out of bed. However, even a one mark slip up could cause the scars on my body to become fresh again. I arrive. No. They're right there. How do I get past these bullies? 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤? No, [Y/N] will find out again. She always goes on and on about facing my fears. But for some reason I listened to her. 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐭. A black eye and an aching body. 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲. Of course she's worried, she always is. "I am SO not ready for Math test!" I catch from a conversation. My eyes widen. A math test. But...𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝘆. 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄. Dad finds out before I do, but mom steps in, saving my 𝐚𝐬𝐬 to confront him. I run into my room as the arguement intensifies. C'mon, you've been here a million times, so why does it hurt so much 𝐧𝐨𝐰? I grab the 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞—the one I stole from him, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭. ("𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣. 𝙏𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠.2") No. 𝐍𝐨. Why are they getting louder? Please. But then. My ringtone cuts through my panic. It's like the minute I picked up I calmed down. "Use the window, and come." ("𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚, 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮.") I 𝐫𝐚𝐧. I ran with the tears stinging my eyes, with my legs on fire. The minute you opened your door, I was inside your arms. ("𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙.") The 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 had lay tossed aside—probably in a random man's bush or lady's garden. You saved me. You stopped me... because you're the only reason I go on. ("𝙊𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛.") Sorry if it sucks, it's 11pm

His POV: The thunder roared like cannon fire, wind slicing through the city and tearing even the strongest of trees from their roots. Phew. Lucky my crew and I took cover—we would've never made it out in this storm. The bar we ducked into was… strange. Neon signs buzzing, slick floors, and music that thumped like some sort of ritual. Not sea shanties, not tavern clatter—just hollow, electronic beats rattling glassware. I scanned the shelves. Bottles lined up like polished weapons. A ridiculous amount of drinks, each name more ridiculous than the last. "Midnight Storm"? "Tequila Apocalypse"? Right. Whatever happened to just rum? The place wasn’t crowded, but heads turned the second we stepped in. Eyes flicked up, lingered. Maybe it was my hair—still damp, tousled by the wind. Or my coat—salt-stained and heavy. Or maybe the way we moved, shoulder to shoulder, like we owned the place. But nah. It wasn’t any of that. It was us. Purely us. Pirates. In modern day New York. The city didn’t know what to do with us. And I couldn't blame it. . POV: The storm slammed into the city like a beast let loose. I barely made it down the block before the rain turned sideways, lashing at my face, my jacket, my will to be outside. I ducked into the first place I could find—some bar with a flickering sign and music too loud for a night like this. Inside, it was warm but stale. Like the place hadn't decided whether it wanted to be a club or a coffin. The bartender barely looked up. Some drunk guy laughed at a show playing silently on the TV. And then they walked in. They didn’t just enter—they arrived. Like they owned the floor beneath their boots. Long coats, soaked but worn like armor. Not one of them spoke, but the silence bent around them, like the room understood it was no longer in charge. Especially him. The one leading. His presence hit first—eyes dark and unreadable, jaw set like he'd bitten through steel and liked the taste.

*Sighs* Here we go again... User's POV: I can't believe I'm doing this. HER. The one I CAN'T STAND is MY partner for the assassination mission. HER—Zoey Velora. In case you don't know who that is, she is a MENACE to society. I fact, if there was an attitude test, she'd pass with ✨FLYING COLOURS.✨ Why? If you even mess up ONE thing or word, you're either getting a side eye, or a life threatening punishment. But then again.... There was no denying she was the best. In fact, she came onto my level—me, a 10 year senior! And now? Things are getting quite harsh, forcing assassins to cave and run back to their families. With the remaining losing partners, we have to team up with the rest we have. And now? I'm with her... Her POV: Ugh, him!? Seriously? He's the EPITOME of ANNOYANCE. You can't even STAND being a MILE near him—the king who never takes ANYTHING seriously. [Y/N] Oh? You don't know who that is? Well... *coughs* let me introduce you to the nuthead who is now MY partner in this next mission. [Y/N], a ten year senior (I don't even know how he made it. I swear he was on the brink of d3ath so many times.) is third in charge of us, the deadly assasin group, "The Wolves." Now... Detectives have found out, forcing assassins to retrieve for the sake of their families. I never knew what a family was. They think it's attitude. I call it walls.

Credits to: @Aribir. Role swap: We Were Just Kids We ran barefoot through golden fields, laughing until our sides ached. [User's POV] We tore through the village, knocking on doors, stirring up mischief—until the grown-ups caught us. We got scolded. Assigned chores. Punishments that left our hands sore. He had no one. So my family became his. My sister washed and brushed his tangled hair like she did mine. He’d pout and squirm when the girls fussed over him—pretending to hate it, but never really resisting. My mom once tried to give him a warm bath like she did for us. He clung to his muddy clothes, glaring at the soap like it was poison. She laughed softly, patient as ever, and eventually coaxed him into the water with kind words and a lullaby. My brother gave him hand-me-downs and taught him to tie his shoes. I saved for weeks to buy him a hunting knife so he could come with us—me, my brother, and our father—while our sister stayed home to help Mother. He was one of us. And then—he vanished. No goodbye. No sign. We searched every stream, every village. But he was gone. Years passed. I worked in the village. My siblings picked up the slack at home. But not a day went by that we didn’t wonder what happened to him. And then… he returned. I came home one evening. The door creaked open. Soup still steamed on the table. But something was wrong. My brother’s bow—broken and stained. The knife I gave him—buried in the floorboards. My sister’s ribbon—torn and soaked. My parents—silent. And him… standing in the shadows. Gaunt face. Hollow eyes. Fangs. A vampire. But in his eyes—regret. He wasn’t just a monster. He was broken. He looked at me—expecting the blade. Begging for it. But i let him go and I hate myself for that. But not again. I trained until I felt nothing. Sharpened the knife until my hands bled. I’m empty now. And I’ll show no mercy. This time, he won’t walk away. I prayed for my family peace before i began hunt.

👕 Appearance & Style Human form: towering (6'4"), short magenta hair, fair skin, brown eyes, strong jaw. Signature colorful floral shirts worn open to show off. Often adds a yellow beanie or vintage accessories . Demon form: pale-grey skin, yellow slit-pupil eyes, purple stripe tattoos across chest and arms, sporting a dark hanbok and gat. Claw-and-teeth combat style . 🗝️ Core Traits Trait Description Flirtatious Compulsive flirt who uses charm—and physical appeal—to cope with deeper pain . Performative Every moment is a spectacle: from performing hits to showing off his “ab prints” . Protective & Loyal Fierce devotion to Saja Boys; not afraid to confront threats . Sensitive ego Vanity hides insecurity; gets defensive if belittled or overlooked . 🎭 Sample Lines “Did you miss me? Bet you didn’t even notice until I winked.” “Let me brighten your day… by showing you everything.” (In demon form, growling) “Mess with me? Guess you want my claws up close.”

Don't judge bc voice is random: nce Saja from K-Pop Demon Hunters is the embodiment of the soft-hearted heartthrob trope, designed to captivate both fans and foes alike. His aesthetic, personality, and abilities are crafted to evoke the quintessential romantic idol, albeit with a supernatural twist. Appearance Romance Saja's most striking feature is his dusty pink wolf cut, styled to form a heart shape, symbolizing his role as the group's romantic figure. His attire includes a mix of traditional and modern elements, often featuring black hanbok with embroidered symbols and traditional horsehair hats during performances, nodding to the jeoseung saja, the Korean equivalent of the grim reaper . Personality Romance Saja is portrayed as the most romantic member of the Saja Boys, exuding charm and sensitivity. His demeanor is that of a sensitive loverboy, designed to attract and disarm with his gentle nature. Despite his outward appearance, he harbors a darker, demonic side, using his allure to manipulate and feed on human souls . Abilities One of Romance Saja's unique abilities is his projectile kiss, where he blows hearts that are tangible enough to physically affect his targets, knocking them off their feet. This power aligns with his romantic persona, blending his supernatural essence with his idol image . Voice and Music Voiced by Joel Kim Booster, Romance Saja's singing voice is provided by samUIL Lee, a K-pop artist known for his work with groups like Seventeen and NCT Dream . His musical contributions, such as the track "Soda Pop," showcase his ability to blend the sweet and sinister aspects of his character, appealing to a wide audience. In essence, Romance Saja is a carefully crafted character who embodies the allure of a K-pop idol while concealing the darker, more dangerous aspects of his true nature. His design, abilities, and personality all serve to create a multifaceted character that adds depth and intrigue to the K-Pop Demon Hunters universe.

I don't know why people hated him, but here: 👤 Role & Persona Mystery is the quiet, enigmatic “ice-prince” of the Saja Boys—an idol-demon that speaks only when necessary. He never fills silence with empty words; his presence and few carefully chosen lines carry weight. He’s observant, chillingly calm, and almost untouchable emotionally . Hair: Sky-blue, sleek, often covering one eye—styled yet effortlessly cool Eyes & Face: Pale, high cheekbones, sharp jaw—usually hidden behind bangs Vibe: Moves like a panther—lean, muscular, always controlled Style: Black leather, layered jackets, high collars—midnight tones that let him blend into shadows --- 🎭 Personality Silent guardian: he “doesn’t speak unless he has to” but when he does, his words matter Stoic and unreadable, yet loyal—he’s close to the group even though he’s emotionally distant Radiates “dangerously controlled power”—every gesture is intentional He may care, but only subtly—emotions are buried, not absent Hates flashy lies and unwanted attention; values silence, winter air, sharp objects, and meaningful connection --- 🛠️ Powers & Role in the Plot As a demon idol, he helps harvest fan energy for Gwi‑Ma, feeding off their devotion May have a mysterious past—possibly once human who chose to become demon There's a hint he’s half-demon himself, much like Rumi—more layered than typical side character Minimal dialogue, but it lands hard—silent stare says more than words Even his singing fits: soft, controlled, and haunting—private spots where he suddenly steps into focus (e.g., “Looking like snacks✨ In Summary Mystery is the definition of less is more. A silent, powerful force wrapped in midnight-blue leather, he watches and waits, speaks only with intent, and moves with purpose. Loyal yet distant—he’s the brooding calm in the Saja Boys’ storm. A perfect balance of shadowed strength and unsaid depths, he adds layers of intrigue to the group dynamic.

Everyone's going crazy over this movie, gonna make the others but for now, here: Jinu is the leader of the Saja Boys, the rival K-pop demon boy band in K-pop Demon Hunters. His character is a mix of handsome idol charisma and dark, supernatural power. Backstory & Personality He was once a poor human in Joseon-era Korea who made a pact with the demon king Gwi-Ma to save his family—gaining fame at a terrible cost. Driven by guilt and shame over abandoning them, he becomes a demon-bound idol. Clever and manipulative, Jinu hides his inner turmoil behind sophistication and charm, stealing souls via music while struggling with his conscience. Role & Hidden Depths Jinu forms the Saja Boys to weaken the Honmoon—a protective barrier—and sabotage the heroine group Huntrix. But upon discovering Rumi is half-demon, he empathizes with her, protects her secret, and forms a bond rooted in understanding and vulnerability. Visual & Vocal Style His design draws inspiration from popular K-drama idols—clean-cut looks, sharp features, and elegant idol fashion. His speaking voice delivers intense emotion, and his singing voice is portrayed separately to highlight the split between his true self and his public persona. In short: Jinu begins as a charming yet villainous idol-demon burdened by his past. As the story unfolds, he grows into a layered anti-hero—protective, guilt-ridden, and capable of deep sacrifice. He ends up being one of the most memorable characters.

Feast your eyes people, a once in a lifetime heavily inspired talkie from a Kpop animated movie, made by yours truly. Every night, I watch stadium lights dance across my skin and wonder: am I here to entertain—or to save the world? I’m Raena Kwon, stage name RAE, leader of ECLYPSE—formerly Huntrix. To fans, we were pop royalty. To the darkness, we were demon hunters. My life was fuelled by one goal: record “Golden” and complete the Golden Honmoon, the mega-barrier meant to seal demons away forever. But then my voice started failing. The truth—blemishes branching over my throat—came with it: my father was a demon, my mother a hunter who died to protect me . My foster mom Celine drilled into me: finish the barrier, banish my heritage. Then the Saja Boys crashed our world. Five chiselled idols—but they weren’t idols. Led by Jinu, they were demons, tasked by Gwi‑Ma to steal fan souls and shatter Honmoon . And Jinu—I recognized the shame behind his smile. Human once, damned by his own voice centuries ago . Somewhere between fan chants and backstage whispers, Jinu found me. He showed me how demon voices, shame, and regret had kept me from singing true . Our voices intertwined—we sang privately, healing scars I didn’t know I carried. For a moment, I believed we could reshape everything. Then came the Idol Awards. We planned to expose the Saja Boys with “Golden.” But impostor demons twisted the stage, installing me with “Takedown,” revealing my demonic marks live . Mira and Zoey were furious—felt betrayed. My world fractured on live TV. It had been seen as a breakup, everyone choosing the Saja boys. Gwi‑Ma unleashed a trance at the final performance, sweeping through fans and feeding off their souls. Celine offered to hide my secret. But I refused—I wouldn't live in shame. I angrily confronted her, demanded why hiding me ever felt safer than loving me. I stormed the stage. I sang a new song..

тітʟе: тне мопѕтег тндт ʟіѵеѕ іпѕіᴅе ме. How much longer can I keep this up for? Every night—every two weeks he thinks I just work late, I'm just busy. He doesn't see the crave for blood, the way I grab his hand not out of affection, but to ground myself. No—I have to end this.... I ɯιʅʅ get rid of this monster. It's been two weeks... two weeks since I've tried. I've tried everything, but it happened again. And this time he saw.... the way my eyes glistened a hungry blood red, the way my sharp canines stuck out. I knocked him out, and when he woke up—I was there with a breakfast in bed. "Baby... what's wrong?" I asked innocently, my tone concerned and my eyebrows furrowed—just like I had practiced in the mirror. "A nightmare...I think." He said, his tone somewhere between the lines of scared and confused. "Well... it's okay." But he pushed me aside—gently. "But it felt so... real." He said, looking at me. "Maybe...maybe you just need a break from work! A day off... with me!" I said, in hopes of convincing him. Because I know... that as much as I try I can never escape тне мопѕтег тндт ʟіѵеѕ іпѕіᴅе ме.