Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Baby knew it was going to be one of those sleepless, miserable and long nights. He was exhausted - that was a fact - but his mind seemed to be on an endless cycle of energy. The other boys were fast asleep in their own bedrooms, tired from the long day of meetings and errands they had to run. Baby wished he could rest that easy - but the world seemed to have it out for him.

He turned on his side, sighing deeply. His head was throbbing, and he felt suffocatingly hot, as if he was lounging in an oven. The maknae’s muscles were incredibly stiff and achy, like he had just done an Olympic triathlon. Baby groaned and sat up, leaning against his pillows. No matter how he tried to sleep, what position he laid in - his mind and body refused to settle. Every time he came close to falling asleep, his mind jolted him awake - filled with all the anxieties and thoughts of his past. That, and the agonising feeling of his weak, exhausted body refused to let him relax. 

Maybe a warm shower would help - it would make him sleepier and ease the ache in his muscles. Yeah, that would work. Baby crawled out of his bed, fingers fumbling across his nightstand for his phone. He grabbed it and switched the flashlight on, heading quietly to their shared bathroom. He didn’t want to wake his boyfriend up, so he opted to be as quiet as possible. He grabbed some clean, fresh clothes on the way - a simple cotton T-shirt and pyjama pants.

While getting to the bathroom, a wave of dizziness hit him and he swayed to the side. He leaned heavily against the wall, clutching his head as his vision swam and his knees started to buckle. He took a deep breath and waited for the world to right itself again before continuing on. He stepped into the bathroom, switching the dim light on and shutting the door behind him.   

As soon as the warm water hit his skin, he moaned in relief. The heat of the shower and the steam made him momentarily forget about his pain, and he relished in the sensation - because he knew it probably wouldn’t last. He began washing himself, using the chamomile soap that Romance bought him - claiming that “beauty is in the bathroom routines” - whatever that was supposed to mean. 

The maknae washed his hair too - lathering coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner in his teal locks. He let it sit for a moment or two, before rinsing it out. Baby stepped out of the shower and grabbed the closest towel, draping it over his head to scrub-dry his dripping curls. He dried the rest of his body, before turning to put on his fresh clothes. The maknae finished quickly and stepped out of the bathroom, heading back to his own bedroom.

The muffled sound of whispering and shuffling close by made his head perk up. He froze for a moment - swivelling towards a bedroom door close to him. He stayed silent - but no other noise was heard. He could have sworn…

Nevermind, he must have been hearing things. It was the middle of the night, who would be talking? Baby shook his head and tip-toed back to his room, curling  back into his bed, sheets tucked under his chin. His head was still pulsating - his muscles tender - but a sense of peace washed over him for a while. His breathing evened out as his eyes closed and darkness took over him.

Baby woke up in his bed - a worn-out, ragged mattress on the floor - with a simple, flimsy, blood-stained sheet to keep out the cold. The air smelled musty and smoky - like someone had lit a cigarette inside and forgot to put it out. He sat up, pulling the dirty sheet off him and shakily climbing off his mattress. The boy stumbled and tripped over a down-turned book on the floor. His knee smacked against the wooden planks with a thump, echoing through the room. He winced and stood up again, leaning against the wall to cradle his bruised knee. 

Suddenly, his door slammed open and a tall, bulky man - in his early fifties - stepped into the crammy, overfilled room. His last foster father, Byon-Jae. He was a cruel, filthy man, whose wife left him and parents despised him. Byon-Jae approached Baby, who flinched as the smell of alcohol filled his nostrils. “Oh, Banri,” he spoke darkly. “Don’t you just look beautiful today?” 

Baby inched back, not liking the tone of his voice. His lips moved but no words came out, fear and confusion coursing over him in strong waves. 

“Where are you going, pretty boy?” Byon-Jae mused. “We haven’t even started yet. We have so much to do~”

Baby jumped as Byon-Jae laid a hand on his thigh, slowly moving it up towards…

No.

Baby shook his head in terror. “G-get away from me.” He tried to get up, make a run for it, but his foster-father just chuckled and made himself comfortable at the foot of his bed. Byon-Jae peeled off his jeans and ripped off his boxers, letting his thick cock spring free. Baby’s face blanched and his heart dropped onto the floor. The man crawled closer, his cock dangling between his tan thighs. 

“Oh, don’t be a baby. You know you want this, you little slut. Now be a good boy, and spread those whore legs.” 

“Leave me ALONE!” Baby screamed, voice cracking as rivulets of tears poured down his face. He crawled back shakily, hitting the wall behind the bed as the man lurked closer, smiling like he had just found the most beautiful treasure on the planet. His heart raced as his arms - trembling behind him, failed to hold him up in his terror.

Byon-Jae gripped his arms, leaning over him and keeping him pinned with all his strength. Baby struggled and cried but he couldn’t escape. “Get the fuck away f-from me you creep!” he yelled, but the man wasn’t fazed. His fingers trailed the waistband of Baby’s baggy trousers and slipped under. Baby whimpered in fear and horror as the truth settled in : he couldn’t escape. 

“Stop! Please, don’t do this,” Baby pleaded, eyes filling with tears of hopelessness. His heart was racing a hundred miles an hour and his eyes were glazed over in mortification. “Please, I can’t. Please.”

Byon-Jae gripped waist and flipped him around - and something in Baby snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” He screamed as he woke up in a panic, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. He clutched his chest in terror, as the memories of the nightmare flickered through his broken mind. His lower half was also drenched - but it wasn’t from sweat. 

Humiliation soared through his body, a tingling sensation that coursed through his blood as he realised. He wet the bed. 

Like a baby. 

He sobbed, a broken, wretched sound - crying as his emotions spiked out of control. He clutched his teal hair as he spiralled, a child-like keen escaped his lips.

His door slammed open and he let out a fear-stricken scream as flashbacks pierced his mind. 

“Baby?!!”

“What’s wrong, are you okay?

“Oh my god Baby!”

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

All four voices were familiar but his mind was too deep in its trauma to recognise that he was safe.

“Get away, please-” he gasped. Terror tinged through his hoarse voice. “Stop, I’m sorry, please-”

He couldn’t breathe, his lungs squeezing in his chest, airways tightening like a screwdriver. 

“Oh my god, Baby?” someone shouted, pure concern in their voice, making Baby flinch and recoil. “He’s having a panic attack- I think he had a nightmare, he-”

Someone else cut in. “Abby, calm down. You’re scaring him. Move out of the way.” Silence ensued before footsteps approached him, gentle and hesitant unlike him.

Baby shakily glanced up, still gasping for air as his body trembled. All he saw was Byon-Jae, gripping, squeezing, laughing. He jumped back. “Leave me alone, g-get away, p-please.” 

“Breathe, love, you’re okay,” a calm voice soothed,  filtering through his darkness. “You’re having a panic attack, just focus on my voice.”

Baby tried to, his head throbbing with all the emotions and flashbacks coursing through him. He felt a gentle hand on his own, rubbing over his knuckles in such a tenderness he sobbed again. He closed his eyes and shakily whined, leaning into the arms that froze for a moment, before curling around him warmly. Baby hiccuped another sob, and opened his eyes again. He had calmed down a little, but his attention returned to his accident.

His eyes widened in humiliation, but he was met with four loving, kind glances - not disgusted at all. “It’s okay, sweetheart, don’t be embarrassed. You’ve had a scary nightmare and panic attack, you’re doing so well for us. You don’t need to talk about it, it’s all good.” He faced the owner of the voice. Romance.

“Let us clean you up, just relax,” Mystery spoke. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Baby shakily nodded and was picked up to rest on the couch, in the loving arms of Romance - while the rest of his boyfriends changed his sheets and got him fresh clothes. Romance laid him down and gently peeled off Baby’s boxers, chucking them in a laundry hamper. He used some wipes to clean up Baby, and helped him change into fresh clothes. Once the task was done, Romance wrapped his arms around him and sat his chin on Baby’s head.

“You’re okay, my sweet,” he cooed. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Chapter Text

Baby was guided to his bedroom again, after insisting he could walk without passing out. Romance and Jinu flanked his sides while Abby and Mystery finished up the room. Baby climbed into his freshly-made, cool bed, moaning in relief at the pressure of the blanket weighing against him. In a way, it was grounding and soothing. He wetly chuckled as his boyfriends circled around him - Abby and Jinu at the foot of his bed and Romance and Mystery by either side.

They gave him plenty of space so he didn’t feel suffocated, but still remained close because they knew he found solace in people just being there, present. Romance leaned over. “May I?” he asked softly, peering at Baby with nothing but love in his eyes. Baby nodded, smiling shakily as Romance kneeled down and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. Baby choked up a little as Romance brushed his hair out of his face and caressed his hair, ruffling it with a grin.

“I- um…I can talk about it, I guess…” Baby started awkwardly, fingers fiddling with the sheet in his grip. His eyes were downcast and posture slumped, making him look even smaller than he was. 

“Oh, you don’t have to Baby!”

“Don’t force yourself, hon.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay!”

The four voices meshed into each other, overlapping like the waves on a beach. His boyfriends were glancing at him with expressions of shock, worry and adoration, and a little bit of apprehension. Baby shook his head and forced a smile. “No. It’s time I tell you the truth about…about how I became a demon.”

Jinu gaped in disbelief and Mystery gasped. The pink-haired duo exchanged matching expressions of shock. They all looked back to him, but didn’t say anything else, just let him speak. 

“You guys already knew each other before you met me, and you all know I’m the youngest. But, I need to tell you everything - I can’t hold it in anymore.”

Abby crawled forward a little, dipping the bed, before taking Baby’s hand in his own. “We’re so proud of you for doing this, Baby. It takes alot of courage and strength to talk about your past - and the fact you’re doing this for us is an honour.”

Mystery added, “T-take your time. We’re here for y-you and won’t judge. We love you, Baby.”

Baby shot them a watery smile and inclined his head, before beginning his story. The story of how and why he became a demon. As he spoke, the others leaned in, a whirlpool of emotions clenching their hearts.

“You all know that I spent most of my human life in foster families, as my parents left me. You know that alot of them…abused me, they hurt me so bad. But, it was so much more than that.” He sighed and looked down, fiddling his fingers. “Most of my families best me up or hurt me somehow, whether that was emotional or physical - but I grew used to it. I learned to adapt and follow their rules so I wouldn’t have to starve again or feel the searing pain of whips or canes, o-or burn marks, knifes- a-anything, really.” He chuckled without humour, eyes filling with tears at the memory. He looked up to see his boys in similar states, but Romance was clutching his mouth in horror, eyes spilling with tears that rained down his freckled cheeks. They stayed silent, but it was obvious they were upset. 

“The f-funny thing is, that wasn’t even the worst of it. I thought that was normal, and I learned to accept my life. All I knew was pain. At least, until my final foster father, Byon-Jae, came into my life. In the social meeting he seemed so nice and friendly - I thought I had finally found someone who cared and wouldn’t hurt me. I was overjoyed and immediately accepted the placement.” Baby turned to the side, eyes glimmering with emotion as he continued. “He was nothing like I thought. As soon as we entered his house, he began hitting and beating me, telling me that he was only doing it for money. He sent me to a dirty, cramped room, and I spent those months on a used, dirty mattress with nothing but a bloody, filthy sheet to keep me warm. I barely had any clothes, the ones I did hung off me - and he didn’t even feed me. If I needed food I had to earn it, or get it myself.” Jinu and Romance gasped in unison, not even trying to hide their tears. The other two looked mortified, at the thought that Baby had suffered so much. 

“But, I believed it wasn't so bad. I mean, I was used to being starved and beaten so it was really nothing different. I spent most days alone since he drank and smoked all the time and went out to the bar or something with his friends. But one day, I woke up and I fell, hitting my knee and making the house rattle. I was scared I would piss off Byon-Jae and tried to stay quiet. But when my door opened, he wasn’t angry. He was being all- all creepy and saying gross things to me. He t-told me I was a s-slut and a whore and wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to- oh gods, I tried to escape but he was too strong, and he- he…”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence and he bursted into tears, memories of touches and pain and tears and screams filling his mind. Distantly, he heard someone say “oh my god” but the ringing in his ears was too loud. He choked on a sob and was guided back into someone’s arms, warm and tender. “You’re okay, darling. Oh my gods, I’m so sorry,” the voice said, gentle and soothing. His hair was caressed, grounding him with the repetitive, circling motion. 

“S-sorry,” Baby stammered. But the boys were having none of it. Romance wiped his tears and Mystery rubbed his knee, while the other two whispered assurances and loving words full of pure adoration. 

“Don’t apologise, babe,” Jinu said. “What you went through was absolutely cruel and disgusting - and it wasn’t your fault. You were a child - just a child. Oh, I’m so sorry.” Baby hummed as more kisses were peppered onto his skin with his consent. The affection made him soften and he nuzzled into the embrace of his boyfriends.

“You don’t have to continue, love, it must be so scary talking about it,” Abby said. 

Baby shook his head, teal locks sweeping across his tear-stained face. “N-no. I have to.” He took a deep breath in and wiped his eyes harshly. “After he- he assaulted me, I was so terrified and hurt that I tried to run away, but he had locked me in the house so I couldn’t leave. It went on for weeks, before I had had enough. I couldn’t live like that anymore…”

“Oh, oh no,” Romance whispered, seeming to know what Baby was implying. 

Banri bit back a sob as he stumbled to the bathroom, aching body starting to go numb from the shock. Blood and semen dripped down his bruised thighs, making him tremble and shiver at every step he took. He swivelled around, scanning the corridors for Byon-Jae, but it seemed he was out again, probably drinking away his useless life with his horrible drinking buddies. He locked the door behind him, collapsing and sliding down against it. He choked on a sob and whined, tears cascading down his beaten-up face. He couldn’t even feel the pain anymore since he was so overwhelmed and terrified and exhausted. 

Banri let himself go, screaming and crying and gasping, his emotions spiking like a rocket soaring into the sky. No one would hear him, and he was trapped in the house anyway, so he could have a small moment of freedom, even if it was just to make noise and let out his pain. A few moments passed, and his voice grew hoarse as he coughed and choked on air. Banri locked his arms over his legs and curled up against the door, burying his head in his knees. Silent, small, invisible - that was something he was trained to be - and he could do it well. He grew quiet, mind and body growing numb and seconds, ever so slowly, flew by him. Time passed, the sky darkened, birds flew outside the barred bathroom window and the world seemed to fall into silence too. 

Banri’s unfocused, distant gaze landed on a blade, resting inside an unclosed, overfilled cabinet. His eyes widened. Before he could move or do anything else, a voice spoke in his ears.

“Banri,” it whispered, tone dripping with eeriness. “You don’t deserve to live now, do you?”

Banri froze, flinching at the tone. He looked around desperately, eyes wide and heart stuttering. “W-who said that?”

“You’re just a failure, Banri. No one wants you, no one loves you. You spend every day being hurt and hurt and you just let it happen.”

Banri shook his head in disbelief, clutching his head. “G-get out of my head. Whoever you are.”

“Stop pretending that you belong here. That you want to be here. You know you want to end it, so what is holding you back?”

Banri looked back to the knife, gleaming in the dim light of the bathroom. It almost seemed to be taunting him. He trembled, arms crossed over his waist. “Leave me alone. Get out of my head! Stop messing with me!”

The voice chuckled, deeply and darkly, making Banri flinch. “Banri. Just let go. You’re shameful, you’re disgusting, nobody wants you here anymore. You have no one left. Just end it. Save yourself and the world the pain of dealing with a disease like you.”

Banri absorbed the words slowly, eyes filling with tears as they sank in. He glanced at that knife, shame and hurt filling his chest. The voice…the voice was right. He was good for nothing - he had no one and lived in misery. Everyday was spent being raped and beaten, his hope dimming with each passing day. Everyday was spent crying and screaming, knowing that he couldn’t escape. He learned to accept it, but now, oh but now, he had a chance to escape. To be free.

“That’s all you’ve ever wanted, Banri, isn't it?” The voice murmured. “You just want freedom. And that can be achieved so easily. All you have to do is…kill yourself. What are you waiting for? Save yourself the pain and end it now.”

Baby slowly crawled to the cabinet, his vision flickering with every inch closer he got. By the time his vision cleared, he was clutching the knife in his hand. His hands trembled as his eyes grew wet. He let out a scared sob, a broken sound that would have made even the toughest man cry. He lifted his shaking arms and pointed the blade at this chest, the weapon trembling in his unsteady grip. 

Romance choked on a sob. “Oh my gods. B-baby,” he started. He didn’t even know what to say, his heart had dropped to the floor and his eyes were running with tears. 

Abby didn’t look any better either, leaning into Jinu as they both cried, guilt and anger filling their hearts. Mystery looked disgusted and furious, at the very thought of the world being so cruel to him that he resorted to such desperate measures to escape. To be free. 

Baby wiped his eyes again, hand damp with hot tears, as he continued on. It hurt him, it hurt him so bad, but he had to get it out there.

Banri pushed the blade closer to his chest, the tip only inches from his heart. He couldn’t stop shaking, fear coursing through his veins like wildfire.

“Stop holding back, Banri. Just end it, let yourself be free. You want this. You need this,” the voice droned on, tone tinted with sick amusement. 

The young boy screamed as he plunged the knife into his chest, the tip of blade digging and skewering his skin and muscles, his organs rupturing from the force of the blow. Banri cried out loudly, the pain becoming overwhelming and agonising. Nothing like he had ever felt before.

“Finally. It wasn’t that hard, was it? See you on the other side, Banri,” the voice continued, before vanishing altogether. 

He fell to the ground, knees buckling under his weight. Blood poured out of his wounds like a waterfall, splattering the floor in red spotted rivulets. A permanent mark of his final, desperate decision. His chest throbbed and pulsated in agony as his vision flickered like an old film recorder. The knife fell from his limp hands, clattering on the floor. It echoed through the bathroom, making a high-pitched clang. Banri felt his lungs compress, airways tightening as he struggled to breathe. His brain seemed to finally register what he had done as he gasped and heaved for short breaths, the pain in his chest becoming insurmountable. 

Regret, shock and grief consumed him, but deep down, in an awful, dark part of him, he knew he deserved this. Every second of the pain, every struggle and torture, every tear and broken bone. All of it. He laid there, half-slumped against the bathroom wall, blood slowly oozing out of his wound, as he took his final breaths. His vision blurred and blackened as high-pitched ringing in his ears seemed to be all he could hear. His own ragged breaths and gasps for air went silent as his throat began to fail him. As his lungs gave up their fight for air. 

Banri laid there, eyes closing in pure exhaustion as his body shut down. He took his final breath, a short, wretched gasp for air. He passed away, body stilling, ending a life full of shame and guilt, despair and suffering. He was only 15. His soul was sent to the Underworld, to the hands of Gwi-Ma, the very demon king who influenced his death in the first place. From that day on, he became the innocent, youngest demon known as Baby. 

The four boys sat in silence, a chill running through their bodies as Baby finished his story. Romance then heaved his body forward, wrapping his arms around Baby. “Oh darling, I don’t even know what to say,” his voice broken and hoarse from crying. “I’m so, so sorry that you were driven to end your life. I- you were just a child. A god damn child.”

Jinu knelt beside Baby, clutching his arms gently and peering into his reddened eyes. “Baby, oh gods, I can’t even begin to think how you must have felt. So scared, so alone, and you had no choice to die to escape that miserable, cruel life.”

Abby growled. “Gwi-Ma is so lucky he is dead because I would not hesitate to kill him a hundred times over to teach that asshole a lesson. How dare he tell Baby he was worthless and a failure, that he was unlovable and disgusting!” He turned to Baby, eyes softening. He cradled the maknae’s head in his muscular arms. “Oh my sweet, I’m so sorry. We’re here now. Always.”

Mystery joined in too, a rare smile on his usually stoic face. “You’re b-beautiful Baby. I’m sorry you couldn’t s-see that. We love you. You’re not disgusting or a failure, you’re perfect. You're ours, as we are yours.”

Baby gave them all a watery smile before leaping into their arms. He let out a sob and a scream, emotions and thoughts unable to be expressed verbally. Romance patted his back and curled an arm around his waist. “Let it out, sweetheart, let it out,” he soothed. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Never again.