His Sun, Her Moon

His Sun, Her Moon

2.8k words, Angst, Romance, Non-idol AU, Fantasy AU, Royals! SKZ

Lee Minho X fem! Reader

Beware of Major Character death, fighting, description of injuries and pain, angst ( an actual warning oops-) 

Ella writes: I feel like I should apologize, but it's also pretty on brand of me to return with smack-in-the-face angst, so... here we go !

The world was pain. Writhing, lancing against torn, bloody skin. Dull, throbbing over bruised, battered bones. Sharp, pricking behind closed, exhausted eyes.

It was the only thing that told him that Death had still not opened her sweet arms to him. The only thing that kept him holding on to the current plane of existence.

Pain, and her.

“WHERE IS HE?”

Bodies stiffened, sights swivelled, weapons reached for, attentions captured.

A soulless smirk replaced the initial snarl that curled your lips you stalked further into the throne room, the silence of your entry stunning the entire chamber. You were not unfamiliar to being watched, observed, picked apart by strangers’ eyes- you revelled in it if anything. The flair for drama was always one you excelled in- right now, however, it was not your flair for drama that prompted the entrance.

The rage that you’d tamped under a thousand rocks slid through your veins again. It had been quite too long since you’d felt the warmth of your anger, always keeping it under lock and key lest it hurt, destroy, ruin. It focused you now, made your awareness blade-sharp and your words toxin-savage. You could feel every inch of it, from the dry burn behind your eyes to the clench of your fingers against the inside of your palm, from the weight of Kaeyara down the middle of your back in her scabbard to the aching throb in your ankle.

Kaeyara, his sworn-sword. She would be your saving grace today if it all went to hell.

There were throngs of people in that room, lined up and crowding against either side of the carpet that laid across the length of the room, cutting right through the center of the crowd to the throne- well, thrones.

The occupants of said thrones watched in silence as you approached them, each with a distinct expression marring their once-perfect faces. They were once beautiful, your mind’s eye reminded you. They were as exquisite as gods and goddesses not too long ago, from the inside out. Exquisite enough that you loved them with your whole heart, staked your loyalty to their thrones and their lives, went to the mat and beyond to defend them.

No longer were they alluring. No longer could you see them as the saviors of the world they hailed themselves as. No longer.

5 massive thrones lined up in front of 5 banners, each bearing a color and a signet, despicable creatures lounging on 4.

Sapphire blue. Sharp and angular, a direwolf. Bronzed hair hiding an empty eye socket and one half of a set of nerves-furrowed brows. Lilac. Golden like a rising sun. Eyes wide, a clicking, whirring mechanical hand covering his mouth in horror at the sight. Forest Green. Serpents of silver twined around a knife. Blank like an empty home, words stopping at a tongue that was no longer his. Slate Grey. Soft, foggy wings of an owl. Teeth gritted, lips pulled back in a snarl, head tilted towards the side which still had an ear. Black. A panther’s amber orbs inside a compass. Empty.

The sight of the empty throne loomed over you as you stopped in front of the 4 monsters, the lack of a bow not lost on anybody.

The whispers kicked up instantly- oh, the audacity! The Head of the Royal Guard declining to show deference?

“Where. Is. He.”

The soft, lethal words that echoed your first were not lost on anybody either.

“Who?” Sapphire rings glittered when Jisung rose, his one eye as sharp as the direwolf’s behind him.

“You can’t mean Minho.” He smiled, showing a row of too-perfect teeth. “You know as well as all gathered here, that he comes and goes as he pleases. Why is his absence a matter of surprise? Is there a matter for concern here?”

Kaeyara began humming at your back, almost like she was urging you to draw her. Not yet, my moon.

The world was pain. Until suddenly, all he could feel was fire.

Raging embers that skittered along his very bones, lighting him aflame. Smoldering, sparking against chains, heating him from the inside out. Blazing across his mind, urging him to sit up, take notice, fight, fight fight fight figh-

Not yet, my moon.

Obsidian eyes flecked with gold tore open, still hazy with pain and exhaustion.

The world was pain Until suddenly, all he could feel was her.

He heard you, you knew it. It was all that centered you as you tore yourself out of your thoughts and back onto Jisung’s words.

“Did you receive word from him?” You willed yourself to keep calm.

Felix cocked his head, his golden hair an angelic contrast against the lilac of his banner.

“Why is that any of your business, Captain?” Hyunjin’s voice was as soft as the grey fog, the smooth tenor skittering over the floor stones and into the listeners’ ears. “Are you trying to imply foul play amongst the Royals?”

The lethal edge of his tone pulled the cowering, silent commoner crowd out of their shock. One trembling commoner edged his way towards the exit of the throne room, the stench of fear slowly permeating the once crisp air. Still, you didn’t look away.

You wouldn’t look away.

“I can’t imply what is already apparent, my King.” The reverence slid off your tongue like a curse, Kaeyara almost singing a siren song on your back. The singular commoner became a steady stream, the exit doors flooded with the crowd that had, just minutes ago, been extremely invested in the drama you had dragged in with you.

The clamor of the commoners rushing out of the room didn’t shake the spear-like attention the 4 royals had fixed upon you at your words, but you weren’t done.

“You sent your people after him. All 4 of you.” The words were coming easy to you now, the rage finally loosening your tongue and your voice until you echoed off the high ceilings and the empty floor. “You intended to end him, the only one of you who was still Whole, the only one of you who hadn’t yet pawned his Heart and his Body away for power. You thought him weak, idealistic, stupid for believing that you needed a heart to rule.”

The 4 of them gave no indication that they heard you, aside from their preternatural focus spearing through you. It was just you and them in that accursed throne room now.

“The world knows what you did to him. The world knows how you tried to hunt him down like a criminal and put him in the ground. All because he saw his subjects as worthy of more than your tyranny. Because he treated us like equals and not lesser than. You tried to take his Heart and when you couldn’t, you let him for dead. And for that...”

The Royals were still motionless before you when you drew Kaeyara at long last, the obsidian blade gleaming clear and deadly and ready. Flames roared a battle cry in your ears, itching to be set free, itching to do what they were born to do- destroy.

A breath escaped your lips. The ground beneath you began to rumble.

Long Live the One King.

Another. All the Royals stood, the movements almost sinful and grotesque in its’ immortal grace. The ground’s rumble turned into a roar.

I’ve got you, my moon.

“And for that, you will all burn.”The world was pain. But it was nothing compared to the rage.

I’ve got you, my moon.

Oh, the rage.

He knew it like the back of his hand. Hadn’t he soothed it away with these very fingers, these very hands, despite the gut-wrenching burn? It washed over him, cloaking him, healing him, awakening him, forcing him to feel, feel, feel-

She was fighting. Somewhere far, far above him, she fought. The fire licked his collarbones almost affectionately in their heat, but there was an air of urgency around them- urgency and a lull, like the flames were slowing down, sputtering out- 

A grunt of pain escaped you as you fended off another attack from Hyunjin, the force of his assault nearly putting you to your knees. But you held on, as did Kaeyara. 

Lovely, death-kissed Kaeyara. It was almost like having him at your back, protecting you.

The 4 of them had descended upon you from all directions, the speed and force of their attack almost impossible for you to track and defend from, but it was like Kaeyara and the flames in your veins had taken control of your body. And Thank goodness for it, because it was only by sheer force of will that you were still standing, despite the bone-deep exhaustion weighing your sword arm down.

For him, you’d fight till the end. As long as it took for him to…to live. He had to live. He had to have heard you.  

Strike. Parry. Duck. 

“Did you really think you could win against all of us?” Jisung hissed, one arm wreathed with lightning and the other, a whip made of deadly metal.. Deadly. So, so deadly. You didn’t bother responding, not when that metal whip shot out towards you, the thin, tiny razors on the grooves of the metal aiming for your wrist, to slash through skin and sinew-

Duck. Block. Flame. 

“He was meant to lead us to a better world.” You screamed, a wall of flame erupting out of thin air, pushing all 4 of the royals back by a few feet. You were gasping for breath, your back against one wall of the throne room, the 4 royals having crowded you to it like a rat to a trap. But you were not a rat. Your own power might have been dwindling slowly, with the pressure of keeping yourself alive, while simultaneously burrowing through the castle to find him, awaken him, heal him- but it was no matter. You were no lost rat. You were Lady Revenge, and you would not be left unsated.

The flames began sputtering around him, the world beyond suddenly more ice cold instead of flame hot.

No. Not her. 

It was not just his own power of will that kept him from sliding back to his knees when he dragged himself to his feet. When he dove into the minds of the guards that watched over his cell to unlock the cell and then slit each other’s throats in tandem. When he staggered to the door, eyes squinting in the twilight dark of the underground dungeons. When he willed himself to shift, heal, become something Other, something Else, something that was worthy of what was thrumming in his own veins- 

In that moment, he would have sold his Heart and Body for the power he needed- 

Anything, anything, anything at all for.. For her.

Strike. Flame. Parry. 

“He did what none of you could. He united the people. Against you.” You leapt back, nearly slamming against the wall to avoid a freezing lance of ice that very nearly missed your shoulder. Hyunjin and his damn icicles. Kaeyara slashed wide, a ball of flame lobbed right at his face, followed by a series of slashes and parries that finally pushed him back, giving you some breathing space. 

“He did everything he did for us. For his people.” 

No ordinary mortal could have held their own against 4 Royals. Thankfully, you were anything but ordinary. You grew up training with these creatures, aware of every movement they could possibly make because they were your own. It paid to be a favored mortal’s daughter, especially if he was the Captain of the Royal Guard.

Between that, the kernel of flame that you’d inherited from your mother, and his Kaeyara… 

Maybe Lady Luck was shining upon you, because that singular tendril of flame that had been hunting for him…it sang. An 8-note whistle that reverberated through your very soul. It had succeeded. Kaeyara had confirmed it, her hum now more insistent. All you needed to do now was…

Flame. Dodge. Strike.

But that strike cost you, because Felix caught your distracted body in an almighty gust of wind- sweeping you off your feet and smack against the wall. There was no sound aside from the creak of your armor as you slid to the ground, landing on your knees. Too hard. 

And still, you had the audacity to not avert your eyes when the Royals looked at you, the rage simmering in your eyes giving even them a brief, uncharacteristic pause. 

“He did it for me.” Even on your knees from apparent defeat, you cut an impressive figure - injured, barely able to breathe, body riddled with injury, a forcefield of the thinnest flame just about keeping the Royals at bay as you kneeled against the wall, Kaeyara supporting your weight as you met the Royals eye for eye. 

Just a little longer. Just enough for him. Just. Enough-

Jisung stepped up to the wall of flame, half a thought dissipating the embers with a hiss of finality. 

“We all knew about his affection for you.” He walked up to you, your eyes still refusing to leave his. Defiant, to the bitter end. Even when Jisung grabbed you by your neck and slammed you against the wall. When Hyunjin’s ice pinned your wrists until you felt the burn of frostbite.

“We all knew about how Minho would trail after you like a lost kitten, looking for all the world like he was just another besotted mortal courting a pair of legs.” 

You snarled at the disrespect dripping from Felix’s tone, tapering off into a cough that left a trail of blood down the side of your lip. “Keep his name out of your sinner mouth.”

Keep them distracted. Kaeyara began to sing. His song. Just a little longer. 

“Sinner?” Jisung laughed, the sound as mirthless as it was dangerous. “He was the sinner. For thinking people like you deserved to have a voice. Look what you did with it. Wreak havoc, cause dissent and sow seeds of a rebellion everybody knows they can’t win.” 

A fork of lightning singed your neck where Jisung’s skin touched yours, a hiss of pain escaping you regardless of the defiance. 

“The Revolution isn’t one person.” you choked out, fighting and struggling against the haziness that was taking over the edges of your vision. Kaeyara lay on the floor below you, the hum from her almost deafening you- screaming at you to pick her up, run the monster through the neck with her, and then extend the favour to the rest- 

But you could barely keep your eyes open, your hands already numb from the cold. The lightning burn at your throat made it hard to breathe, to speak, but you held on- you’d hold on, for as long as it took.

“But the Revolution can die with one person.” 

Felix’s words chilled you. As you watched the unnamed cloak of forest green glide towards you, a lovely little knife sliding free in his hand as he stopped next to you at Jisung, you couldn’t help but smile a little. So this was how it would end.

“You said he did it for you, didn’t you?” Jisung smiled as he let go of you, watching you crumple to the floor again, only to be dragged up by Forest Green. Have the pretty knife positioned exactly on the line of your throat that his lightning had singed. 

“In that case, he died for you, too.”

When the knife glided its way through your throat, severing skin and bone, there was no pain. 

Because Minho stood at the doors to the throne room. 

Eyes wide in despair and depthless rage when he watched his brothers murder his..his sun. 

His sun had set on him. So would she set on his brothers.

You don’t remember dying. The world was pain, but the pain was far away. 

Because Minho was here. He was here, he was here, he was alive, he was here- 

And he was Other. Shadows of the deepest black onyx bled from his hands, spearing straight for the 4 people he had considered blood brothers. Shadows that promised terror beyond their deepest fears, nightmares beyond their darkest thoughts. Those eyes…eyes that had been as gold as the panthers’ on his signet was now swallowed by obsidian, the colour almost stark against the hue of his skin. When the Royals stepped towards him, possibly to placate him, likely to destroy him, a snarl of sheer animal fury escaped his barred lips. At the sight of yourself bleeding out on the ground, that stupidly small smile on your eyes, Kaeyara screaming at him to do something, ANYTHING-

 He was Minho, and he was Not- 

And then the screaming began. 

Finally, you could sleep. 

Taglist ( What I remember, atleast >.<

@delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @whiteprincessofnohr @mingkii @t-toodumbtocare @hongism @the7thcrow @chogiwow @http-wommy @dom--minnie @wingkkun-main @heresyourramen @fizzydrink698 @crispy-chan @iwillgiveyoumyhappiness @binniesthighs

@lxmilights @lavenderbexlatte @jl-micasea-fics @decembermoonskz @chvnnie @jeonwonhi

Ella Notes: ....Hello! I'm back <3

Star lost

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Genre: Comfort & hurt

Word Count: 7.7K

A/N: This was a request where you struggle with family issues/abuse and SKZ somewhat helps you with the fallout. Trigger warnings will be posted before each drabble. This one was tough to write about, but whoever requested this, I hope I did you justice with this <3

_ _ _

Chan:

TW: Low self-esteem, self-hatred, and mentions of a verbally abusive family.

Chan studied you with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. Ever since he came home, you were in your own little world. He caught you avoiding his eyes and staring off into space. Your puffy bottom lip was swollen from where you kept chewing on it. 

Even now eating dinner, you were off. He took another bite of his food before he finally called your name. You didn’t hear him and didn’t respond until you felt the warmth of his hand waving back and forth in front of your face. 

“Hmm?” You responded with no energy. You shoveled another mouthful of instant ramen into your mouth. You chewed and swallowed still in a clouded daydream. 

“What’s going on with you? Are you alright?” Chan leaned across the wooden table closer to you. 

“I’m fine, just tired.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“If it was nothing, you’d be talking to me like usual. I have barely heard ten words from you since I got home. What’s wrong?” 

Your eyes wandered down to your instant ramen. The quick and simple meal provided comfort. The sodium filled broth warmed you from the inside and the cheap noodles were filling. 

“There was a customer at work today that got under my skin, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll get over it soon. Don’t worry about it too much.” 

A frown filled Chan’s face at the news. He put down his chopsticks. “What did they say?” 

“I don’t really want to s-” 

“Tell me.” 

Your body slumped as you sighed. Your fingers paled around the wooden chopsticks as you clutched them tighter. “It was just a handful of words. You know, like dumb and stupid and whatever. It’s alright though, really. I mean, I know already s-” 

“What?” A look of bewilderment sat on his face. “What do you mean you know already?”

“I’m stupid and dumb,” you shrugged, “not the brightest crayon in the box.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You stiffened at his words. The sudden edge of anger caused anxiety to brew. You stuttered over your words trying to explain how your parents told you multiple times while growing up. Once you leaked that information, his face began to go red. 

“It’s alright,” you tried to ease his nerves again. “It doesn’t bother me that much. It was said so much, I understand. Not everyone can be smart. Like I said, I’ll get over it.” 

Chan shoved his bowl to the side and stretched further across the table. His outstretched hands cupped your cheeks. Soft hands held your face and his kind eyes met yours. 

“I never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. You are not stupid and you are not dumb. You know who is stupid and dumb? Your parents for making you think that. You are bright and you are smart.” 

“But I’m really no-” 

His finger pressed against your lips to shut you up. “No, you are not. I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to prove it to you. From now on, you’re not allowed to say anything mean to yourself.” 

“Nope!” He squished your cheeks a little more. “No more self-hatred. It’s going to take a lot, but from now on, we’re unlearning it. No objections, you’re not allowed.” 

“I think you’re getting in over your head.” 

“Nuh-uh.” He squished your cheeks a little more and laughed at your unamused look. “Look how cute you are.” He cooed and pressed on your cheeks more. “Ohhh, you’re so smart and cute.” He moved closer and with a dramatic “mwah!” He plopped a wet kiss to the direct center of your forehead.  

A blush smeared on your cheeks, you jerked back and swatted his hands away. He giggled and sat back down in his chair. “You’re so cute.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

“Say it.” 

“Huh?” You glanced up confused. 

“Say you’re cute.” 

“I’m cute.” 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Your cheeks heated up at his words. You picked up more noodles and playfully rolled your eyes. A grin revealed both dimples on Chan’s face. No matter how unamused you looked, he knew his words meant everything to you deep down. 

_ _ _

Lee Know:

TW: Brief mentions of angry family, walking on eggshells, and fear.

When surrounded by predators, a turtle tends to burrow into its shell. Curling up and cocooning in the hardened exterior kept it protected. No birds to peck at the leathered flesh. No stray animals can clamp onto exposed limbs and bite them off. 

 Growing up, you learned the same thing. When people were angry in your family, you learned to retreat. Silently, you made your way back to your bedroom because that was easier than having exposed flesh. Your family members, much like birds, would rip you apart when angry because you were an easy target. 

When Lee Know came home from work with clenched fists, furrowed eyebrows, and a displeased frown, you retreated. You had seen him angry before and you knew he’d never purposefully take out his anger on you, but there was always a potential. You disappeared into your shared bedroom and preoccupied yourself with your phone while hoping he’d calm down. 

When he showed up a few minutes later, you kept the conversation to a minimum and left the room. Anxiety caused your heart to pound and your hands to shake a little. You were tense and filled with dread. Every step you took, you didn’t know if you’d step on a landmine. 

Holding your breath, you snuck into the bathroom. When you shut and locked the door, you let out the breath you were holding. A bit of relief trickled through your body. The locked door created a safety barrier between the two of you. 

Lee Know was aware you went into the bathroom after you left the bedroom. He plopped down on the queen sized bed grumbling beneath his breath about something that happened at work. He waited for you to come out because he wanted to preoccupy himself by talking to you more. 

However, you never came out. Not after ten minutes, not after twenty-five, and by the time a half hour passed, Lee Know shoved himself off the bed. He had been scrolling through his phone when he realized how silent it was. 

Getting up, he glanced around your shared place, but you were missing. He stepped up to the wooden bathroom door and knocked on it. He called your name and inside, you froze. You had been playing on your phone on the floor hoping the anger would subside. 

“Yes?” You finally got your voice to work. Your eyes squeezed shut waiting for a response. The fear inside you began to grow again. 

“Are you okay?” Lee Know asked. He pressed an ear up against the door, so he could hear your response clearly. “You’ve been in there for a while.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Are you? People usually don’t take this long in the bathroom. Do you have food poisoning? Do you need me to go get you some medicine for it?” 

Your eyes shut and you let out a sigh. The worried edge to his voice made you feel pathetic. You shoved yourself off the floor, walked over to the door, and you tugged it open. He looked you up and down making sure you were alright before he gently grabbed your wrists. 

“I’m sorry for making you worried,” you mumbled. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes scanned your face trying to read you. 

“You were mad,” you admitted. 

His eyebrow raised, “what?” 

“You were mad. I didn’t want you to get mad at me, so I was hoping you’d cool off. You’re not mad anymore, are you?” The fear you felt was making you ramble. “I can leave the apartment for a while if you want me to.” 

“Why would I be upset with you?” He blinked a few times. “I was mad, but not at you. You acted like I was going to hurt you or something.” 

Your eyes went to the ground. Shame filled you for even assuming he might do something like that. You apologized again and let your eyes slip shut. 

“You do know that I’m not going to hurt you, right? I’m not going to yell at you. I might get a little snappy accidentally when I’m mad, but I’ll never hurt you.” He tugged you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized for the third time. “When my family was mad, things got messy. I just,” you shrugged, “I expected it, I guess.” 

He shook his head. “You don’t have to live in fear when you’re with me. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’ll make an effort to try not to come home angry, alright?” 

“Thank you.” 

“And if I am angry and it worries you, let me know and I’ll go on a walk or something.” 

“Why were you angry in the first place?” 

He scoffed, “you’ll never believe what happened today.” His arms went up as he began gesturing and rambling about the incident that started this mess to begin with. 

While he rambled, you felt your heartbeat slowing back down. The adrenaline pumped up from earlier began to ease itself. You sucked in a deep breath of air and finally let yourself relax.

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Self-doubt, gaslighting, and verbally abusive family.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” A grin sat on Changbin’s face. The bright afternoon sunshine reflected off his sun-kissed skin. It reflected off his glittering eyes and made him look even more mesmerizing. 

You nodded and took another bite of the sandwich in your hands. Changbin had taken you to a park by the Han River. You didn’t say it out loud, but you seemed to be struggling with something over the past few days. 

So far, you let him do most of the conversating. When he spoke, you didn’t meet his eyes. You kept staring at the water behind him or the picnic table or the bright green grass. Quite frankly, you were in your own head instead of snapping into reality. 

Changbin’s mouth kept moving as he explained something, but you zoned out. Your eyes focused on the gentle waves lapping at the side of the river bank. Birds flocked overhead and people maneuvered around in the background. The two of you were on opposite sides of a picnic table. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Changbin’s loud voice snapped you back into focus. 

“Huh?” 

He frowned and studied you for a moment. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been like this now for three days. It’s like you’re somewhere else when I try to speak to you. Are you alright?” 

“Sorry, I guess I’m just stressed. What were you saying?” You took a bite of your sandwich and focused your eyes on him. You chewed and waited for him to speak. 

“What has you so lost?” 

You swallowed as he spoke the words. The sandwich lodged itself in your throat. You shifted and gulped trying to get the dry bread to go down. When it didn’t move, you drank a few sips of water to help. “Do you ever doubt yourself?” 

Confusion flashed across his face. “Do I doubt myself? Sometimes, yeah, but why are you asking?” 

“Do you doubt the things that happened to you in the past?” 

“I don’t think I understand what you mean.” 

“Bad things?” 

“Bad things?” He echoed. His eyebrows pinched together and the corners of his mouth drooped lower. “Did something happen?” 

Your eyes went over to the river. You didn’t want to tell him exactly what happened, but you had already spoken up this much. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to get it off your chest. 

“I have these memories of things that happened to me when I was a kid. I remember violent fights with family members. There are conversations that I can recall clearly, but my family members keep telling me I’m making it up for attention.” 

“It makes me wonder if it really happened or if it was a dream,” you continued. Your fingers moved to the sides of your temples and you began to rub small soothing circles against your forehead. “Maybe they’re right.” 

“Did this happen a lot? The fights? Did they ever hurt you?” 

“I think so, yeah. They say I’m dramatic. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” 

“Do you have more than one memory of this occurring?” 

You nodded. 

“And what do you gain by making all of this up? If it was all just a dream, do you think you dreamt those fights occurring multiple times? A lot of people have bad dreams, but they’re not always so vivid. Most dreams and nightmares have a variety to them.” 

You stayed quiet while he went on. 

“When you bring the topic to your family members, do they get angry?” 

You nodded your head. 

“Scoffing and yelling?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Telling you they’d never do that?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And calling you dramatic?” 

“Yes.” 

Changbin sucked in a deep breath. He put his sandwich down and reached out. His hand found yours and he interlocked his fingers with yours. “You know, it almost sounds like they’re getting extremely defensive and shifting the blame.” 

“But what if I really did just dream it?” Your eyes met his. “What if I really am being dramatic and it never happened? What if I’m distorting dreams with reality?” 

“What if you’re not? If you came to me and told me that you had a very vivid dream where I hurt you, I wouldn’t start getting upset and yelling at you. My first reaction would be to comfort you. Clearly, you’d be shaken up and I can’t imagine wanting to escalate your distress.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. 

“I can’t tell you what the right thing to do is, but it sounds like you’re a victim of gaslighting. Even terrible nightmares fade away, but you have all these memories stuck with you in such color. Perhaps, they’re not just nightmares after all.” 

You finally nodded your head. His thumb stroked the back of your hand. “I don’t think I’ll be able to provide you much help in these scenarios. I’m not a professional, but I can always listen and give you my personal advice.” 

“What’s your personal advice in this scenario?” 

“You haven’t really been around much for the past few days. I assume something happened the other day with your family and now you’re down in the dumps. You don’t have to cut them off, but why don’t you try distancing yourself and seeing if that helps? Just take some time for yourself to breathe properly.” 

His response was an obvious one, but it hit you hard. Hearing the words come out of someone else’s mouth and making you realize that it was okay to distance yourself, it calmed you down. The thought of not texting your family and dealing with the constant harassment and stress from them sounded blissful. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime. Now eat your sandwich because the birds are starting to show up. We can’t let them steal our food.” Changbin shoved the last few bites of his sandwich into his mouth. His cheeks poked out as he chewed. 

You took another bite of your sandwich and, for the first time in three days, you felt a little bit of peace. 

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Sexual intimacy, self-harm scars, self-hatred, and mentions of sexual assault by a family member.

Physical intimacy between two people was supposed to be enjoyable. It was supposed to be thrilling and exciting. However, the more Hyunjin’s hands wandered, the more your brain began to panic. 

When he reached for the waistband of your pants, you quickly pulled back and jerked his arm away. He paused for a moment while his brain proceeded with what happened. You stayed quiet and anxiety crept in. The negative thoughts were beginning to whisper to you again. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked. 

The two of you were in your bedroom. You had been dating for quite a few months now. You knew Hyunjin wanted to further your relationship and be sexually intimate. You thought you wanted it too, so you agreed, but you hadn’t been expecting your brain to spiral completely. 

“Yes. No.” You paused again. “I-I don’t know.” 

“We don’t have to do it. It’s not a big deal.” He pulled away from you and moved back to his own side of the bed. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it, I do. I just-” you hesitated. You wanted to spill out the truth, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him and upset him either. The influx of confused feelings was pooling into frustration. Tears began to prick your eyes. 

“Are you crying?” 

“No,” you blinked rapidly. 

“Are we going too fast? We don’t have to do this. The last thing I ever want to do is peer pressure you. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” 

“No, I-” 

“You can tell me what the issue is.” He moved a little closer and lowered his voice. “I’m not going to be upset. Just talk to me, so I can understand what’s going on.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Explaining your feelings isn’t going to hurt me.” 

“I want to continue with you, but I’m ashamed and embarrassed and terrified.” Tears began to stream down your cheeks. “I’m so afraid and I know you’re not trying to hurt me. I know normal couples do these things, but this is all happening so fast and I-” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Let’s start at the beginning and take a deep breath. Do you think you can do that for me?” 

You nodded and sucked in a deep breath. He leaned forward and gently wiped your tears with his thumbs. “Now why are you ashamed of yourself? What’s there to be ashamed of?” 

You sniffled, “to start with, there’s self-harm scars beneath my clothes.” 

His face fell a little, but he quickly put on a neutral expression. “Why should you be ashamed of that? It’s proof that you fought a battle and won. That’s nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. I’m not disgusted or freaked out. A lot of people have scars from different things. Just because yours were self-inflicted, that doesn’t bother me.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m gross.” 

“You’re not gross. How could you think you’re gross? I’ve spent the last twenty minutes kissing you. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever gotten to lay my eyes upon. Does the idea of being naked scare you? We can turn off the light.” 

You shook your head and shut your eyes. “I need to tell you something.” 

“What is it?” 

“I was sexually assaulted when I was younger by a family member.” 

That was the missing puzzle piece that created the whole picture. Hyunjin stared at you for a moment in shock before he pulled you into his arms. More tears blurred your vision as he wrapped his arms around you. “I had no idea.” 

“I don’t want you to be disgusted with me. I don’t want you to see myself like how I see me. I feel worthless and I-” A sob came out of your mouth. 

Hyunjin rubbed your back and quietly soothed you. After your sobbing quieted down, he apologized. “If I would have known sooner, I wouldn’t have been so intimate tonight. We can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

“Y-you’re not mad?” 

“God, no. Of course, I’m not mad!” He pulled away and gently cupped your cheeks. His thumb pads wiped away more of your tears. “I think you’re incredibly brave for being so strong dealing with all of this. I didn’t know anything about what you’ve told me tonight. You might be the strongest person I know.” 

“You don’t think I’m disgusting?” 

He shook his head. “I’d never think that about you, darling. The only thing I ask of you is to tell me. If I do something to you that’s triggering something, just tell me and I’ll stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” His thumb brushed beneath your eye. 

You finally nodded. 

“Can I just hold you for a while?” 

You nodded again. 

He pulled you further into his arms and laid down with you. His arms wrapped around your torso. He tucked your head into his chest. A hand moved up and began playing with your hair. The future wasn’t going to be easy when it came to intimacy, but, with clear communication and someone who loved you for you, it was manageable.  

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts, family violence, self-hatred, and self-isolation.

Your consciousness wandered through past memories like a ghost. Through the fog, past the present, back into childhood. It was easy to slip back in the cracks of time and replay memories. 

You got lost in your own head. The words family members spat years ago remained lodged deep inside of you. One negative thought sent you spiraling. Your glass heart was cracked and yet it still managed to beat. 

It’d be so easy to just stop it all. Stop the thoughts. Stop the pain. Stop the misery and the madness. Stop the sadness and the bitterness. It hurts to go outside and catch glimpses of the others. 

Mothers who smiled at their kids. Fathers who hold hands and crack playful jokes. Fathers with daughters sitting up high on their shoulders at parades. Mothers pushing sons and letting them go a little higher up on the swings. 

It was hard living without the stability of a family. It was hard living in general. Things people flourished with, you struggled. Parents were supposed to raise you and help you become a better person, but all yours ever did was tear you down. 

They spat names and threw things. Nightmares were filled with the familiar sounds of screaming and glass shattering. Cupboards slamming and heavy footsteps. Threats and belittling. Every sin and every flaw laid out for everyone to see; pointed out, mocked, and sneered at. 

You were an empty vessel at this point. Capable of giving love and never receiving it. People’s words didn’t matter to you. Their compliments and praises were lies. You couldn’t accept them after you were spoonfed self-hatred instead of self-love. You were forced to swallow your family’s loathing and resentment. 

Instead of strong calcium bones, yours were hollow. At some point, the marrow had been watered down. Your neck and spine curved down to face the ground instead of looking up and standing with your head held tall. 

Was this some sort of punishment for a past life? Abandoned by every god and goddess out there, prayers went unanswered, and hope dwindled away. It grew fainter and fainter until it was snuffed out entirely. 

“Rough day?” Han’s voice cut through your thoughts. 

You sat up from your bed to face him. There he was again. That was the only reason you kept going. He stared at you with glistening eyes. He munched on something and it caused one of his cheeks to poke out. 

There was a loud gulp as he swallowed. His adam's apple bobbed before it settled again. “So I was thinking we could play chubby bunny and a few other games. I could really use a break after we watched that last anime that ripped my heart out. What do you think?” 

You stood up and nodded. He watched you for a moment wondering if you were okay. When he came home from running errands, he couldn’t find you until he glanced in your shared bedroom. He found you blankly staring at a wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. 

You shook your head. It was hard to open up to people and explain what you were feeling. It was easier to deal with these emotions by yourself. No matter how hard he tried to get you to open up, you refused. 

“If you insist,” he finally let it go. “Just so you’re aware, I’m going to beat you at chubby bunny.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“Have you seen these cheeks!” He filled his cheek pockets full of air and puffed them out. You couldn’t help, but laugh at how ridiculous he looked. There really was a reason why everyone compared him to a quokka. “You’re not going to beat me.” 

“Game on,” you challenged him. You followed him out to the kitchen where a glass bowl of marshmallows sat. You picked up a large one and shoved it into the back corner of your mouth. “Chubby bunny.” Han followed in suit. 

Your fickle feelings about the past would have to be put on hold. Despite the past, you were never the type to turn down a competition. Especially, when it involved watching Han make a fool out of himself.

_ _ _

Felix:

TW: Implications of starvation, manipulative parenting, and financial abuse.

Felix sat on your bed patiently waiting for you to get out of the shower when his stomach rumbled. You were expecting to see him on Friday, but he showed up two days early. Running low on motivation and struggling to finish the week strong, he figured he’d surprise you. 

The only issue was that your showers took nearly a half hour. You loved standing beneath the near boiling water and letting your skin turn bright red. You rejoiced in the warmth and basked in it. The warm water made you feel squeaky clean. Plus, it felt nice for your muscles. 

After waiting nearly fifteen minutes, you were still inside the shower singing off-key. Felix stood up and disappeared into your kitchen to find a snack. You usually had your cupboards and fridge stocked. You didn’t mind when he helped himself. 

He pulled open your fridge expecting to find food, but the only thing greeting him was a half gallon of milk, condiments, and two small cups of yogurt. He turned to your snack cupboard. Throwing open the wooden doors, he found two packs of ramen and a half consumed bag of granola. 

He frowned and headed back over to your bedroom. You were humming to yourself and putting on a pair of fuzzy socks. The sudden footsteps caused your head to snap up. You met Felix with wide eyes and then relief flooded through you. 

“You just scared the shit out of me. I thought you weren’t coming over until Friday. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” A small laugh fell from your lips and you pulled up your second sock. 

“I wanted to surprise you. I thought we could hangout for a while. You said you weren’t doing anything earlier and I missed you. Where did all your food go?” 

“What?” 

“Your fridge and cupboard are nearly empty.” He plopped down on the bed beside you. “You usually keep your stuff stacked up. Did you buy less last time?” 

“Something like that, I suppose.” 

“Wanna go grocery shopping together?” 

“Not really.” 

“So when are you going to go grocery shopping?” 

You shrugged and pulled your damp towel off your head. You left Felix on your bed and disappeared back into the bathroom to put it back. Felix watched you go with a bit of worry. He knew you had money and you had a well-paying job. 

“Tomorrow?” He guessed. 

“Probably not until Monday,” you finally admitted. 

“Monday?” His face frowned. “But that’s like five days away. You’ll be starving by that time. You get paid on Friday.” 

“I do,” you came back out, “but groceries can wait. They’re not that important.” 

“Are you hearing yourself?” Felix frowned. “You’re going to let yourself starve? No way, I’ll buy you some stuff.” He stood up off the bed, “and I-” 

“No!” 

He paused at your outburst.

“It’s a complicated situation. I won’t know how much money I have until Monday. My account is hooked up to my parents’ account and I-” 

“What?” 

“My bank account is shared with my parents. I mean I have my own account, but ours are joint accounts. They need money for stuff and,” you shrugged, “you know how it is.” 

“I don’t think I do,” Felix shook his head. “So let me get this straight, you are an adult, you live on your own, and yet your parents have a joint bank account with you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your parents who also have two well-paying jobs? Who has their cars and houses paid off? From what you’ve said, no debt whatsoever.” 

“Everyone has shared bank accounts with their parents,” you chuckled. “Why are you acting like it’s such a big deal? It’s really not.” 

“Is that what they told you?” 

“Yeah.” 

He let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. “Alright, I need you to go find your identification documents and a few other things.” 

“What? Why? What for?” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Because parents aren’t supposed to control their children’s finances. You’re currently almost starving and you think this is normal. We’re going to my bank and we’re opening up your own account, so this doesn’t happen again.” 

“I don’t think my parents are going to be happy about that,” you mumbled. 

He walked over towards you and gently grabbed your hands in his. His thumbs stroked the sides of your thumbs. “Your parents don’t need your money. It sounds like they’re taking advantage of you and you don’t realize it. Just trust me on this, you work really hard at your job. That money that they’re stealing from you, it should be yours.” 

“But they need it.” 

“To do what with?” 

“They have bills.” 

“And don’t you think they can pay for them by themselves? There’s two of them and only one of you. You deserve a lot better. Don’t you want to have that money to put away for a house or a new car or something?” 

“I guess that does sound nice,” you finally admitted. “I haven’t been able to put away a bunch because they take the majority of my paycheck.” 

“Let’s go then. I’ll help you open your own bank account. After that, we can go get you some groceries. I’ll help you reach out to your boss and make sure they change your banking information, so your money goes to your new account and not to the one with your parents.” 

“Thank you.” A smile filled your face. “I genuinely thought it was normal.” 

“It’s usually not. Especially, when you have parents who make a good salary. Come on! You’re going to love my bank! They give out complimentary lollipops.” He grinned and pulled you toward the door, so you could grab your shoes. 

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Self-hatred, domestic violence, verbal and physical abuse, drunk driving death, substance and alcohol abuse, and generational trauma.

“Were you born dumb or was it something you learned throughout the years?” Seungmin taunted you. 

Usually, you don't mind them. You always clap back with something or throw something in your vicinity towards him. His taunts are harmless and his bark is much worse than his bite. 

However, after a conversation on the phone with your mom where she cursed you out, you were struggling. Your mom always treated you decently. Your father did most of the name-calling growing up. After a drunk driving accident, your mother couldn’t cope. 

Your mother’s soft and gentle nature was overpowered by your father’s narcissism and dominant personality. Your mom learned to bow her head and break herself down to fill your father up. Even when it came to watching her kids suffer the same fate she did, she stayed silent. 

She let her husband belittle and break the kids down. Her comfort was only given after he left the room. If he found her comforting you, there’d be hell to pay for everyone. That was why what your mom was going through made it so much worse. 

Your father was dead and your mother was a mess. Left destroyed in the wake of everything. Hurt people hurt people and that cycle seemed to continue even after the abuser was six feet under. At least, it did when it came to your family. 

Your mother began using alcohol to cope and then alcohol turned to drugs. She went from a victim to domestic abuse to a victim of substances. Your heart ached for her and you tried to help her. You and your siblings were older now. 

They cut her off, but you were determined to help your mom. You tried to text and call her. You were terrified that you’d lose her to whatever she took. She was alone and there was nobody there for her. 

When you called her earlier, she was strung out on some unknown drug. Her words slurred, she spoke things that didn’t make sense, and it concerned you. To make it even worse, she said she wasn’t at home, so you had no idea where she was. 

You tried to get her to tell you what she saw. You tried to get her to call the emergency services, so they could trace the call. Your mom needed desperate help, but she refused. When you brought up her using drugs to fill the void your father left behind, your mother lost it. 

For the first time in your life, it wasn't your father spewing names at you, it was your mother. You never minded Seungmin’s taunts and teases, but with the mixture of fear for your mother, hurt, and anger cast at your father; your emotions blended together into frustration. 

You were upset because your father hurt your mother and your siblings. You were mad at your mom for not leaving him and yet you realized she was a victim. She was a victim, but she was an adult with kids. You were mad because your father made her entirely codependent on her. 

You were sad because you just wanted parents who loved you. You were tortured because your mother was hurting and your siblings refused to deal with it. You felt so alone and defeated and hopeless. You weren’t even sure your mother would make it to daybreak. 

So when Seungmin slung that sentence, something inside of you shattered. Your eyes watered, your bottom lip trembled, and your teeth bit into the velvety flesh of your inner cheek. He realized instantly that his words affected you far more than they were meant to. 

An apology fell from his lips, but you couldn’t hear it over the sobs that broke through the lump in your throat. Your chest shook and your eyes blurred with tears. He rushed over and pulled you into his chest desperate to fix his mistake. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His fingers brushed your cheeks frantically. “I didn’t mean it, I never meant it. Shhh, please stop sobbing.” He wiped your tears on his pants before he went back in and began brushing away more tears. “You know I can’t handle seeing you cry, it’ll make me cry.” 

That just made you sob harder. That was your fatal flaw after growing up the way you did. You cared about everyone and their feelings a little too much. You had been groomed to bend down to people and please them just to keep the peace. 

You stayed silent like your mom, but you were angry like your father. There was so much grief buried deep inside of you and you didn’t know what to do with it. The branches twisted and curled above your head. The trunk of your body was rotting from the inside out. 

You didn’t know how long you sobbed until you finally caught your breath and explained everything to Seungmin. He listened to your problems with you curled up against his chest. You spoke with a shaky and shrill voice. You pulled the plug and let the decomposition from the last twenty plus years pour out of you. 

When you finished, Seungmin brushed a few more tears away from your eyes. “Let’s start at the very beginning. I’m sorry I called you a name, I didn’t think it’d hurt you. I really didn’t mean it. I think you’re smart and one of the bravest people out there.” 

“Let’s go try to find your mom,” he continued. “We can start at her house and work our way around town. I’ll even get my friends involved if we can’t find her, alright? Once we find her, we can go from there.” 

“You don’t have to help me.” 

“I don’t have to, but I can’t stand seeing you like this. I want to help you. Let’s go find your mom and then maybe you can talk to your siblings. We’ll take it one step at a time. Baby steps are a good way to get to your final destination. They’re better than standing still and not doing anything.” 

You shifted in his arms and hugged him tightly. He wrapped an arm around your back and pulled you tighter towards him. He kissed the top of your head. “I suppose I should say something sappy now like I love you or something.” 

“That feels wrong coming out of your mouth.” 

“Does I hate you work? Am I allowed to use that like usual?” He pulled away a little, so he could see your reaction. 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, I hate you.” He stood up and reached out for your hand. “Let’s go find your mom and get her the help she needs.” 

_ _ _

Jeongin:

TW: Jealousy, self-hatred, abortion mention, verbal abuse, and neglect.

Families came in all shapes and sizes. High school sweethearts that had never lost their love for each other over the years. A group of friends who survived high school together. A group of strangers who met one night at a college frat party. 

People who grew up and reunited with another person from their past years later when they were older and went from reunited to dating to marriage and then kids. People who identified with the same gender, people who identified as the opposite gender, people who decided gender wasn’t right for them at all. There were no boundaries when it came to who could be part of your family; stranger, friend, lover, something not yet known. 

You watched the family in front of you with twines of envy wrapping around your heart. Jeongin was with the rest of Stray Kids filming a new SKZ Code video. The video wasn’t anything too spectacular. There were a bunch of mini-games that the staff members set up. 

The guys could win so many points for whatever place they were in. Whoever had the most points at the end was considered the winner and got a prize. You watched Felix and Jeongin lunge forward and step into a small platform in the middle of two bigger inflatable pools filled with shaving cream. 

Two neon green and blue pool noodles had been duct taped together. Changbin walked behind them and stood behind the pools in front of the camera. “On your mark, get set!” 

Felix and Jeongin raised their pool noodles. “You’re going down!” Felix taunted. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Jeongin grinned. 

Changbin blew the whistle around his neck. Felix reached forward and swatted Jeongin. A soft thwack filled the air as his pool noodle bounced off the top of his head. The goal was to knock the other into the shaving cream filled pool as fast as they could. Jeongin wobbled on his bare feet before he jabbed the foam into Felix’s face. In the background, the rest of the guys cheered on their favorites. 

Behind the cameras, the filming production members seemed amused. One held a stop-watch and timed them. You watched them for a while before you got up behind the camera and silently disappeared out the door. 

The neglect and abuse you suffered at the hands of your parents left you damaged. You craved that kind of bond with other people. Desperately, you wanted to be able to fall back on a group of people who loved you too. 

Jeongin talked about all his adventures with the rest of his band all the time. It was normal for him to talk about the latest funniest thing Changbin did or the time Hyunjin and Seungmin got in a fight while bickering over who loved him more. 

You couldn’t help, but feel jealous. You were happy that Jeongin got to experience so much love, but there was a rotten piece of you that thought it wasn’t fair. You wanted to experience that too. Why couldn’t people love you the way that they loved him? 

You sat yourself down in one of the empty dance practice rooms and laid on your back on the floor. The guys would be here when they were finished filming content. They left all their bags here. 

Your head spun with thoughts about the past. Your parents were never meant to have children. In fact, you often wished they would have aborted you. Why have a child if you’d never be able to properly care about it? 

Now it was years later and you were left damaged with a cracked stain-glass heart. The treatment from your parents left you bitter and full of resentment. Their teeths gnashed like wild dogs and they hurled insults your way. You’d never forgive them from the mental or physical bruises they left. 

Tears began to fill your eyes at the soured memories. You could still hear your mother’s disgruntled voice. Your father’s disgust that he never bothered to hide towards you. You were mangled inside. That inner child never got to experience love and now you were angry and sad. Nobody seemed to understand that. 

Pushing out the past, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift to sleep. You didn’t dream of anything anymore. Your dreams had faded a long time ago. At least the pitch darkness was better than nightmares. 

When your eyes reopened, you were being shaken. Your bleary eyes looked up to find Jeongin staring down at you. His shirt was different from earlier. His hair was damp like he had just washed it. “Have you been crying?” He asked. 

“Hmm?” 

“Your eyes are bloodshot.” He sat down beside you. “What’s wrong?” The usual smile disappeared from his face and was replaced with a look of concern. 

You shook your head, “it’s nothing.” 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.” 

“But it’s really nothing.” 

“Then tell me. Why’d you leave the shoot early? Did something happen to your family? You were watching us and after Felix fell in the shaving cream, I looked over to find you gone.” 

“It’s not like that,” you whispered. “I got a little jealous, so I left.” You sat up and your eyes went to the floor. Shame made you hang your head. 

“Jealous of what?” 

“I’m jealous of your relationship with the guys. You make up your own little tribe. You guys have a really nice family going and…you know.” 

Jeongin was well aware that you had struggled in the past with your family. He let out a soft sigh and tugged you into a hug. “You know, they could be your family if you want them to be. They really do like you a lot.” 

“Do they even know we’re dating yet?” 

“They have their suspicions. They really like you and I’m glad they do. If they didn’t like you, I’d have to beat them with a pool noodle again.” 

“They’re just looking out for you.” 

“Should we prank them?” He grinned. “Should we go out there and I can propose to you? Do you think they’d lose their minds?” 

“I think you’d start a riot and then they’d hate me.” 

“Oh, come on!” He stood up and grabbed your arms. “Let’s go prank them and then we can all go out for dinner. Maybe if we’re lucky, I can propose in the restaurant and we can get a free dessert.” He pulled you to your feet. 

“That sounds like fun until I remember you’re a k-pop idol and your fanbase would lose its mind. Dispatch would have a field day and I doubt your manager would appreciate the controversy.” 

“Then let’s go prank the guys and play more mini games. We finished filming and this is a great way for all of us to get closer. They have to get to know you because I plan on marrying you one day.” 

“Woah, what?” Your eyes widened in shock. “You want to huh? Me?” 

“Sorry for spoiling the surprise, but yeah. Someday in the future I want to put a ring on your finger.  I really do want us to be our own little family of just us.” 

“And your seven older brothers who will murder me if I hurt you.” 

“Oh, you think that’s what’ll happen? They’re smitten with you. I got threatened by Changbin the other day.” He rolled his eyes. “He promised to beat me up if I hurt you.” 

“Wait, really?” 

“You’d be shocked at the effects you have on people. They care about both of us, but somehow they seem to like you a little more. It’s somewhat offensive considering I’ve been here longer.” He poked a finger into your side. “But I’ll allow it because you’re cute.” 

A wave of warmth passed over you. “They really care that much?” A timid smile began to appear on your face. 

“Of course, they care about you. Anyone I care about, they automatically care about because that’s how family works. I mean, unless I start caring about an asshole and then they nearly jump me.” He held up his hands in surrender. “You do not want to see Channie Hyung when he’s mad. He nearly ripped my throat out with his teeth.” 

“Giving some truth to those alpha memes allegations then.” 

“I’m sure Felix and I can talk him into howling at the moon. One of the other guys can secretly film it and post it to our TikTok page. He’d never live that down.” 

“Sounds like you’ve been hanging out with Seungmin too much.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re a family; you rub off on each other.” 

“Does that mean you’ll all start howling at the moon too?” You teased him. 

Jeongin couldn’t stop the playful smile from appearing on his face. His deep dimples stood out as he reached over and lightly swatted your hand. “Oh, shut up! That’s not what I meant!” His cheeks and the sides of his ears went red. “Let’s just go prank the guys.” 

Before you could taunt him again, he dragged you back to the place where the guys had been filming. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @s3ungmins

Masterlist

This reads so natural?? Like the dialogues don't feel like dialogues.....I really like this series

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 10

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

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The studio is silent when you enter, the door clicking softly shut behind you. Neither of its occupants stir, even though Chan had just called out for you to come in when you'd knocked; he's staring at his computer screen now, fingers hovering over a keyboard as he listens. Han is on the other side of the room, fast asleep on the sofa with him mouth hanging half-open. 

A coffee cup sits in the ground next to him and his phone dangles from relaxed fingers, dangerously close to falling. You lean over and grab it just as it starts to slide from his grasp; Han doesn't stir, not even when your shadow falls over his face. You catch a glimpse of his phone screen before your thumb locks it, long lines of lyrics set out in a basic notes app, the top bar lined with notifications; you put it down hurriedly on the armrest of the sofa, not wanting to pry.

When you look up, Chan is watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hi," you say, turning your back on Han. Your hands are awkward after touching his phone - you fold them in front of you, one hand twisting at the fingers of the other.

"Hi," he replies softly, and smiles - something that's meant to be encouraging, you think, but this is so far out of your normal routine that you don't think there's anything that would let you just relax, rather than standing here awkwardly in the middle of the room with nothing else around to draw his attention.

"There's another chair over there," he says, pointing to the corner behind you. "Come and listen to this."

A clear goal. An easy one to achieve too - the breath rushes from your chest as you drag the chair over to his desk, some of the tension in your limbs draining out with it. You sigh again as you sit down, this time as your tired body presses back into the seat and finally finds relief - you've been engrossed in practise all day, sliding right past lunch and nearly dinner too, barely stopping for a break. Not that you'd meant to, you knew better than that, but when you'd felt like you were actually getting somewhere-

"You look tired," Chan comments as he hands you a set of headphones, one hand idly untangling the wire as it stretches out to you. His voice is decidedly neutral, his tongue lazy as it lets the English syllables slide past one by one. He talks to you in English almost all the time recently, you've noticed; ever since the album released, or maybe a little before. Not that you mind. English is...comfortable, in a way that Korean sometimes isn't. It's always been easier for you to be Australian.

"Practise was good today, though," you reply. "I feel like I might actually be able to dance in the group without sticking out now."

"You've been doing that for a while," Chan says, bemused. "Lee Know didn't have anything to say at all the other day."

You can't help the derisive snort that escapes your mouth, swallowing the acerbic laugh that tries to follow it before you can make even more of a fool of yourself. It's so rude; maybe you are tired. You certainly aren't as careful as you usually are, even though you know that can preclude trouble. "I don't think he's being as hard now that I'm not debuting in two weeks," you blurt out, and then drop your eyes down to the headphones in your hands. 

"That doesn't mean he's lying," Chan insists. His hand pats your knee - just a brush of his fingers, there and there and gone again. "You don't really need all this practise anymore, you know."

A shrug works its way up to your shoulders, though it feels more like a defensive hunch than anything else. "I'd rather practise than waste my time sitting around," you answer, and at least the words are strong, even if your body is not. "Especially when there's still a chance I could end up sitting around in Australia by the end of the year."

Something flashes across Chan's face, twisting at the edges of his mouth for just a moment before disappearing - disappointment, or frustration? It twists at your gut twice as hard, whatever it is, upsetting the delicate balance you'd found for just a moment while sitting here. "Do you want to listen to this song?" he asks, changing the subject before you can say anything to defend yourself. "We recorded it roughly, but I need a real version of it, and I think you'll like it..."

His voice trails off as he turns to the computer, pulling up whatever he's been working on. You take that as a sign to pull the headphones over your ears, offsetting one side slightly so that you can still hear him. Music fills your ears - a slow, roundabout beat and a heavy bass, overstrung by lyrics about bravery and fear and the darkness of being alone. Beautiful, in a way you're not sure how to express, and artistic, winding its way into your chest where you won't easily forget it.

You really like this song, so much that you're almost afraid to admit it; because if you did, you'd have to admit too, how its spiralling beat brushes against that dark spiral of anxiety that always lives in your chest, and the cold memories that the words stir up-

"I like that," is all you say when the music ends, one final downbeat cutting through the instruments abruptly.

"Really?" Chan asks, like it's unexpected, or unbelieveable.

"Of course," you insist, headphones sliding down around your neck. "You really want me to sing that?"

"Well, if you're going to spend all of your time working anyway, you might as well do some of our work for us," he says, the tone of his voice and the way his head tilts to point at Han's sleeping form informing you that he is joking. "Listen to it a couple more times, I'll see if Han has the lyrics written down on his phone, and then we'll try it."

"Why wouldn't you be able to sleep?"

Chan's voice startles you, loud after a long period of silence. You hadn't even seen him turn to look at you, or even stop working to check the messages that are popping up in the group chat, his phone propped loosely between his hand and the table. "What?" you ask, one hand coming up to stifle a yawn as it tugs at your jaw.

Chan glances down at his phone screen as another message pops up, and then back at you. "Earlier, you said you wouldn't be able to sleep if you went home," he says, by way of explanation.

"Oh, right." You'd forgotten about that text. You hadn't really thought about it being something that might raise questions at the time; you'd been more focused on the sudden worry you'd had over him assuming that you were regularly here all day and all night. "My house is just too quiet sometimes, I guess. I'm not really used to living alone."

His head tilts, curiousity flaring in his eyes. "You know, I've never actually asked where you live," he says. "Are you still in the dorms?"

"They gave me an apartment," you answer. "I think we're in the same building, actually. That's what they told me, anyway."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. "And you've never come over for dinner? Changbin hasn't dragged you to the gym? No one's run into you in the hall?"

"Lee Know sat in my living room for like ten minutes once?" you offer weakly, though you know it's not nearly what he's looking for. You've got nothing to offer him - even Minseo hasn't been over in a few weeks, each of you too busy on your own trajectory to cross paths. You'd had lunch in the cafeteria twice, and that was all, far from the silent walls of your empty house and it's too-big rooms.

A smile ghosts across Chan's face, strangled by the constant turn of his thoughts back to the problem he thinks he has identified. "On his way back from the store?" he questions knowingly, and you nod.

"He said no one was home at your place."

"If he went into our house, why did he-" he starts, and then cuts himself off halfway, shaking his head. "You should come over for dinner or something. Watch one of Han's animes. If I'd known you were in the building, I would have invited you ages ago."

Apprehension rises in your chest at the openness of the invitation, the way he's able to simply pick it up and throw it out there without even a moment of hesitation. Not that you should feel dread over something as simple as an invitation to dinner, with a group of people you now see every day anyway...but you've never really seen them outside the studio, and you wouldn't know what to expect even if you sat here and tried to guess. 

And even this, sitting here in the dark talking to Chan, is something you've never done before, the reason why you'd sat here so quiet when you'd first come in; if your body wasn't so tired, if the night wasn't dragging on into morning as you spoke, you don't think you'd have been able to sit so still in this chair at all.

"Maybe," you say, acknowledging the invitation with a dip of your chin. "When there's time. I'm really busy practising for debut right now, and I don't want to miss anything."

You're surprised by the look that passes over his face, the tightening of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. "You spend a lot of time in that studio," he says - and you're not sure what to think about the tone of voice that he uses, switching back and forth between stern and...soft, like he's worried he'll say the wrong thing or something. As if he could do something wrong here, when he is the leader and you are-

Well, nothing. You're nothing. God knows what he sees when he looks at you, other than the trainee he was unwillingly saddled with.

"Yeah," you acknowledge, because there's no use in denying it when you know they know the kind of hours you've been pulling. There being eight of them just means it's impossible to avoid running into one of them at every strange hour of the day. "If these are the last three months I have here, I don't want to waste any of it."

"You said that at the concert," Chan recalls. "You still feel like you're not going to debut?"

The memory sits awkwardly in the air of the room; you shift in your seat, shrugging as lightly as you can pull down the movement of your shoulders, trying to play it off. "Do you still think I'm scared of you too?" you question, trying to play it off easily rather than having the words slide heavy from your tongue.

Amusement dances in his eyes. "Maybe not so much," he answers. "You made a joke earlier."

You frown. "Is that...weird? I make jokes all the time, don't I?"

"Not as often as I'd like," he says, and then his face softens. "It was nice, though. So is this - us, talking."

"Mm," you hum, your mouth closed around several sentences that spring immediately to mind. The instinct to measure everything you say and watch your mouth is burnt into you, caution wrapping its cold little hands around your throat every time you start to relax. And now you don't know what to say, when it feels too pointed to make a joke after he's just pointed it out, and too crass to pull out excuses for why this sort of one-on-one rarely happens - and then silence stretches too thin, and time ticks too far onwards, and you've missed-

"Can I tell you what I think?" Chan says and leans back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling as he stretches.

A breath hitches in your chest, apprehension freezing it still. "Okay," you say, your hands twisting together.

His gaze is steady when it returns to you, his hand still where it comes to lie flat on the surface of his desk. In the background, Han shifts in his sleep, the couch cushions shifting underneath him. "I think you're scared to be one of us," he says, every word carefully measured against some weight you cannot see. "And you're scared to trust us. Maybe just me, specifically."

Your heart leaps into your throat in surprise, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. "I'm not-" you begin, but his hand lifts in the air, stopping you short.

"I don't mean in a bad way," he hurries to add, before you can go on. "I understand why; I wouldn't trust anyone either after what happened to you with Midnight. And I've been there before, you know, so...so I know why, I promise. But...I wish you would let me help you. I really want to help you."

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat remains, the tears threatening to gather in the corners of your stinging eyes. Your stomach feels like its been turned upside down, your equilibrium shaken and turned around. "I..." you begin, as if you have a response, but nothing follows it, your mind racing to catch up in a conversation you hadn't expected to have and didn't plan for. "I...this is my last chance. If I stop, if I..."

"Hey," Chan says. "I understand, okay? And I'm not going to kick you out, or yell at you, or whatever it is you think a leader does. I like having you around, it's too late for all of that now, okay?"

The joke is light, struggling to lift itself in the oppressive air of the studio, but it makes its way to you anyway, lifting a little of the weight off of your shoulders. "I really like your music," you tell him, and push a deep breath down into the bottom of your lungs. "I want to be one of you, really, and I don't - I don't think you would do that, I swear, I just...I know that it's not always up to you. The company can do what they like, and if they think I don't look like I fit in, or I'm not working as hard as you do, or they just don't like how-"

"You shouldn't worry about that," Chan says over the top of you, his face changing. "That's my job - you leave that to me, and focus on the things your working on."

You look down at your hands, then over at Han - anywhere but his gaze, when you say, "I can't trust them to listen to you. Not until I make it to debut."

Chan falls silent, long enough that your eyes stray back to him, unable to look away for any longer. You find a mess of emotions written across his face, lit by the illumination of his computer screen as he messes with the mouse, his attention far away from the track he's idly playing with. 

"Okay," he says when he's done, forcing his hand to move away from the keyboard. "I meant to talk you out of burning yourself out, but I don't think that's going to work."

"Sorry," you say mutely, and feel your shoulders hunch.

"It's okay," he says, before you can retract into yourself completely. "It's okay to be scared. It is scary. So, let's come to an agreement."

There's an unintended challenge in his voice, a way that his eyes watch you that incentivises you to sit up straighter and swallow down all that cold anxiety that freezes in your veins. "Okay," you say willingly. "Like what?"

You like the silent approval you see in his face, the way his mouth relaxes and starts to untwist from the frown it had turned itself into several minutes ago. "You promise me that you know how to take care of yourself, and you can practise as much as you feel like you need to until debut and we won't stop you," he says, "but after debut, you promise you're going to slow down. And you're going to trust me."

It's funny - you hadn't thought anything but the result at the end of these three months would make you feel better, but somehow, he strings together the exact right words to lift that weight off your chest and shine a light down the tunnel. You hadn't thought anyone would be able to do that. Maybe that's why you'd been locked away in the dance rooms, all alone; maybe he was right that you didn't trust anyone, and that maybe you should start.

"I can do that," you say, nodding in agreement. "And I can take care of myself. I won't debut if I'm injured, or I collapse or something."

"Good," he says, satisfied, and then adds, "And you come over for dinner, whenever we invite you. And you go out with your friends again. One of the girls from Midnight chased me down the other day to ask about you, and honestly I'm kind of scared of ignoring her."

"Minseo," you say and, inexplicably, you smile. "Sorry. She's...an extrovert."

"Two jokes," Chan points out, and then laughs at the look on your face, turning away to shut down his computer. "It was fine. She was cool. You have good taste in friends."

"We've been here together for a long time," you say, your eyes idly tracking the movement of his mouse. You glance at the clock in the corner of his screen just by chance - and then do a double take when you see the number there, squinting as if you've misread it. "Is it four AM?"

"It is, actually," Chan sighs as the screen goes dark, closing the laptop and pushing his chair back towards the couch. "Time to go home, I think. Do you want to walk with us?" 

His hand reaches out to rouse Han, the other reaching for the boy's phone, left abandoned on his desk. His coffee still sits abandoned on the ground, long gone cold since that first conversation in the group chat that had led to all of this. Funny, how that one little thing, left forgotten on the floor, had led to a night you wouldn't soon forget. 

"I'd love to," you reply, and reach for the coffee before anyone can knock it over, throwing it in the trash. 

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw

Rock-star was a really good album, but we moved on from 5-star way too fast. Those songs were ICONIC. Superbowl? Hall of Fame? TOPLINE?! They should have been promoted wayyyy more in my opinion. There should have been 5-star stages for more songs than just S-Class.

heart - shaped scallion found In pho . reblog for good luck & yummy soup 500000 forwver

SHATTERED PUZZLES | 1

 PAIRING: Hyunjin x reader, slight Minho x reader

 CONTENT/WARNINGS: fluff, angst, a slight love triangle (i gotta stop with the skz love triangles–), amnesia!Hyunjin, Doctor!Chan, Rude!Hyunjin, car accident, trauma

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

 RATING: pg13

 SUMMARY: a rude and arrogant patient with no identification wakes up from a year-long coma and develops temporary amnesia. Assigned to you, a volunteer who’s not going to put up with his attitude, you’re both in for a rough ride.

SERIES SONG: I Don’t Remember Me (Before You)

 A/N: I know I suck at summaries but like, I needed one. If you have a better one I’m all ears lol. This is a multi-part fic which was originally going to be a oneshot, but it’s ending up longer than anticipated and I’ve got a plot that I wouldn’t be able to fit into a oneshot anyway lol. Anyway, lmk what y’all think with likes and reblogs please! HAPPY HYUNJIN DAY!

Series M.list | SKZ M.list | Taglist

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