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Pairing : Ot8 skz (mainly Changbin & Chan) x maknae!9th member!fem reader
Warnings(?) : 0verdose, se|f-harm (cvtting), cringe, mischaracterization of skz, Changbin & Chan are stressed tf OUT, depression, su!cidal thoughts, attempted su!cide via blood loss and pills, mentions of blood and cvts, and overall just sad and triggering topics.
A/N (Author's Note) : Please read at your own risk. <3 I love all of you so much. 🫶🏻 If you ever feel like this, please message me. You all are worth so much and are all so important.
I hope this fulfills your request, anon! <3
The fic begins below the squiggly line. Enjoy! <3
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The fawn: the animal that represents innocence, purity, and new beginnings. The fawn also belonged to you. It was the skzoo assigned to you based on your loving and caring personality. You were always known as the sweetest member of Stray Kids. Even the boys didn't argue with that or try to deny it. They knew a gentle soul when they saw one, and you were the human embodiment of gentle. You were always so kind and sweet to everybody. You were even more loving than Felix, Han, and Chan, which was hard to do.
It took a lot of violence to become this gentle, though. Not from other people, but from yourself. Ever since you were younger, you always had this nagging voice in the back of your head. It never went away. You tried medications, daily fresh air and sunlight, and even therapy. Nothing seemed to help.
It was a bottomless pit that would never be satisfied. You could feed it all of your energy for the day, and it'd still need the rest of the week's supply for you to even feel halfway motivated to even get out of bed in the morning.
You never wanted anybody to feel the way you felt, so you always tried your best to give others the comfort you so badly needed. You craved it. You wanted to be soft with yourself, but you told yourself that it would just be weakness then.
So you pushed through it until your early adult years. The boys never really acknowledged your mental struggles. Not because they didn't care, but because you never made it obvious. Even when you weren't performing, you still were deep down. Behind closed doors was just another concert without any lyrics or choreography. It was a battle, if anything. A battle with yourself and your brutal mind.
You always told yourself that you just needed to get over it and suck it up. That you were being overdramatic. Maybe if you stopped trying to be so sad all the time, it would eventually go away. But it didn't. It never did, and you felt like it never would, either.
The psychiatrists always said the same thing. They always gave the same advice, as if they didn't truly care about the constant war between you and your brain. They always gave you prescription medication, telling you to take two a day, and you'd feel as good as new.
But lately, you had stopped taking them. The side effects would always end up hitting you harder than the depression itself. You ended up just tossing them away last week, afraid of leaving yourself alone with a full bottle of pills late at night.
You hadn't been yourself lately. Well, it'd been years since you'd actually been yourself, but this time, it hit harder. Usually, it was just a stomach ache. This time, it was a full-blown punch to the gut. The type that knocks the air out of your system, making you stumble like a fawn attempting to take its first steps.
But you still put on that happy facade, as always. You didn't want to worry your boys. You would cut into a vein before purposefully worrying one of the boys.
You began cutting a few months ago. It was the only way for you to feel in control of something.
The blade brought you a comfort that words never could. As soon as you pressed the thin, cold piece of metal into your skin, you felt alive. It was like a breath of fresh air after suffocating for so long.
Little did you know, the air was toxic. But polluted air feels fresh when you're used to no air, doesn't it?
Feeling the warm blood bubble onto your arm was such a new feeling. It looked so wrong. It felt wrong, too. But it felt so good. Even as the air stung against the open wound, it felt so right for just a few seconds. Enough for you to feel something before the wave of guilt crashed over you.
Once you really looked at what you had done, tears stung your eyes. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. The crimson liquid raced down your arm, and you covered your mouth with your hoodie sleeve to muffle the sob that escaped.
You quickly went to the bathroom and cleaned it, using some water and toilet paper. You then found a small band-aid in the cabinet and ripped the covering off, plastering it over the red line.
You thought you would stop after that. You just wanted to try it and see how it felt.
But you were so, so wrong. It turned into an addiction quicker than you could realize.
Whenever you would mess up at a concert, you would give yourself another line. If you messed up during practice, that was two lines. During an interview? Three more lines.
Within a month, the razor was more red than silver. Dried blood stuck to the thin, sharp metal. That would be a sign to stop for some people, but for you, it was a reason to keep going.
'Just one more,' you'd always tell yourself as you reached for the drawer in your nightstand.
You found out how to hide it. Even when it was warmer, you would wear long sleeves. The guys never paid too much attention to it, but Chan would every now and again.
"It's 90 degrees outside. Are you seriously gonna wear that hoodie? We're gonna be walking for a few hours," he had told you one time, concern and confusion written on his face.
You just nodded, giving him that same fake, gentle smile that you always did.
"Yeah. It'll be fine, don't worry. I just-"
But before you could finish your excuse, Chan interrupted. He wasn't buying it.
"Nah-ah. Go change. You're gonna melt. I'm not risking you getting heat stroke. Besides, you've been wearing hoodies so much lately," he said, gently turning you around and heading you back to your room.
Your heart pounded in your chest. All you could hear was your own pulse in your ears.
'Shit,' you thought as you shut the door behind you.
You almost panicked as you took off the hoodie. You had seven new lines on your arm, and they were all fairly fresh. You had only been clean for 2 days.
Whenever you picked out a t-shirt and put it on, they were still very much visible. They were red and slightly irritated. No matter how much you crossed your arms, they would still be visible.
You were damn near a breakdown until you spotted it on your vanity. A new foundation you had just bought. It was long-lasting, waterproof, and heat resilient, so it wouldn't melt off. You had never felt so much relief in your life before.
You mumbled a quiet 'thank you' beneath your breath. To whom you didn't know. Maybe to yourself for leaving it out for you to see now.
You quickly covered the semi-fresh cuts with the foundation. It didn't burn, but it didn't exactly feel good either. But even if it burnt like fire, you still would've done it. Anything to cover up the mistakes you made that night.
You inspected it, and it looked legit. You could almost cry from joy.
And the best part? Nobody noticed the entire day, even as you reached to grab your drink from the café worker. Your entire arm was exposed, and nobody batted an eye.
You then started experimenting with ways to hide it. Your personal favorites were bracelets and hairties, mainly because they weren't suspicious and didn't make your skin itch while taking them off.
That was a couple of months ago. Now, you had faded scars. You hadn't done it in a week or so. It was so tempting, but you had a concert coming up in around a month, and you didn't want any fans to point out the scars on your arms and thighs.
But tonight, something just snapped. It wasn't loud. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you feel uneasy when you know something's wrong.
That morning, when you woke up, you felt unreal. Not in the good way, either. You felt like you didn't exist.
During the day, it only got worse. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt empty yet so heavy at the same time. You felt like you were trembling, but every time you looked at your hands, they were still. Your heart was racing, but when you pressed two fingers to the side of your neck right below your jaw, it was a normal pace.
Nothing made sense. It was like you weren't you anymore. At all.
Sure, you had felt out of place for a while now, but this time made you feel empty beyond belief.
Yet you still managed to keep up a smile, even at dinner, whenever Minho scooped a portion of soup into your bowl and gently set it down in front of you with an even gentler smile. You thanked him quietly, and he nodded.
But you couldn't bring yourself to eat. You just stared at the soup, mixing it around with your spoon.
The urge to dig the blade into your flesh was even more tempting now. You just wanted to bleed. You deserved it, after all. You deserved it for lying to their faces like this. You were a horrible person. A horrible friend, a horrible band member, a horrible sister, a horrible everything.
Everyone was halfway done with their soup, but you just claimed a stomachache with some nausea and thanked Minho for the meal before heading to your room.
Nobody suspected anything. Even as Minho looked into your dead eyes, he just gave you a smile and told you to rest and feel better soon.
You shut the door behind you and stared at your bed, and then the nightstand beside it. You eyed the drawer and the small wooden knob on it.
Your fists clenched, and you walked over to your bed, ignoring the temptation.
You told yourself it had just been a bad day. Nothing to worry about. You would just go to sleep and wake up the next morning, feeling somewhat okay again.
But as the rest of your members went to sleep, the urge grew more and more. You stared at your arm, the red lines taunting you.
The hours passed by in what felt like days before you finally gave in. It was nearly midnight by now. The perfect time to relapse without getting caught.
You used all of the energy left in your exhausted body to get off of your bed, your hand shakily reaching for the drawer. You pulled on the polished wooden knob, and a white drawer looked back at you. Although it was dark, you could see with the fairy lights above your bed dimly lighting up your surroundings.
You reached beneath all of the notes that the boys and fans had given you in the past. All reminders of the love that you deserve and crave. But it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the few seconds of relief from the blade.
Your fingers caught onto it, and you winced slightly as it slightly cut into your fingertip. You then saw it and grabbed it, holding it firmly between your pointer and middle fingers and your thumb. You stared at it for a second, wondering if your soft, precious skin was really worth a few seconds of satisfaction.
After a deathly quiet 20 seconds, you lowered the skinny scrap of silver against your wrist, and you pressed downward. You felt the bite of the blade, and as you dragged it, you felt pain sear throughout your entire lower arm. It flooded into your hand, all the way up to your elbow.
But when you saw the white line with a tiny amount of red, you weren't satisfied like you usually were. It stung, but it didn't sting as bad as you wanted it to. You wanted it to hurt.
Then, you managed to spot a faint blue line in the crease of your elbow. Then another in your wrist.
Before you knew it, you were digging the blade so deep into your skin that you ended up puncturing two arteries.
The bright crimson liquid gushed out, and your eyes widened as you began processing what had just happened. But instead of feeling guilty or panicked, you felt calm. You finally felt like you had gone deep enough to have some control after these past few months.
And although the blood continued spurting, all you did was take your hoodie and tie it around your arm to slow it. It wasn't enough.
You made your way to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and spotting a half-full bottle of painkillers.
You smiled faintly and snagged them, shutting the cabinet and slowly making your way back to your room, quietly shutting the door behind you.
You stared at the label for a bit, reading the warnings of overdose on the bottle, but you stopped after the second sentence. You weren't actually in any pain... physically.
But maybe the painkillers would send a message to your heart to stop hurting so much. Or maybe to stop hurting at all.
So, you weakly unscrewed the top, tossing it onto the floor. You then turned up the bottle, dumping the pills into your mouth. Suddenly, the idea of pills wasn't so disgusting as it usually was. You were eager now. Eager to get too much into your bloodstream and overwhelm your body with the drugs.
You choked them down, gagging a couple of times as a few escaped your mouth.
You felt a massive lump in your throat as they struggled to go down, but after a fist to your chest and a few seconds, the lump disappeared into your stomach.
The medicine only took a few minutes, and your nerves and muscles reacted first. You felt weak all around, and your legs gave out as you tried to get into your bed. You hit the floor, your hoodie untying and falling off of your slashed open arm. Blood continued to pour out. It wasn't gushing anymore, but it still continued.
However, it only took around 10 seconds for the inevitable to happen; one of the boys found you.
And it was Changbin. Sweet, sweet Changbin. The Changbin who always encouraged you and rough-housed with you and Seungmin together.
But this time, he didn't seem just sweet. He seemed worried. Horrified, even.
"No, no, no-" he choked out, immediately rushing over to you and dropping to the ground, hands shaking.
He couldn't even form full sentences as he picked you up off of the ground. Not because he was struggling, but because he was terrified. Had you done this to yourself?
"Y/N-" he sobbed, his throat suddenly dry, and his eyes suddenly the opposite.
He inspected your wrist, and he spotted your light gray hoodie on the floor as well. It was stained with dark crimson already, and it would be hard to tie around. He was wearing a compression shirt and sweatpants, so he quickly took his shirt off and tied it around your wrist, applying pressure. Then, he grabbed one of your pillowcases and tied it around your inner elbow.
"Hey, hey. It's-It's okay. You're okay, Y/N. It's all g-gonna be-" he stopped in his tracks, feeling a wave of nausea and guilt overcome him. How had he not noticed you were struggling this badly?
He suddenly felt too weak to even stand himself. He was the strongest in the group, and yet he felt like every ounce of strength had been ripped away from him within seconds.
But he still managed to scramble up, his socked feet slipping against your carpeted floor. He rushed out of the room and down the hall, yelling for Chan.
Chan was a light sleeper anyway, so he was already up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes when Changbin rushed in, his eyes watery.
Whenever Chan noticed how panicked his member was, he became more alert.
"Changbin, it's nearly midnight. What do you-"
Changbin cut him off desperately.
"It's-It's Y/N. She's not- she's not responding to me. Her arm has two cuts at the arteries, and I-I don't-" he began, already hyperventilating and sobbing as he tried to control his breathing.
Chan rushed out of his room, sprinting down the hallway and into your own room.
He opened the door and ran into your bedroom so quickly that he ended up slipping, hitting his knee against the ground.
But as he pushed himself off of the floor, he spotted your light gray hoodie with dark red staining the sleeves. He felt his stomach twist, and whenever he saw you lying only a few feet away, tears blurred his vision.
His mind went blank. His maknae, the one he was supposed to protect and love, bleeding out on her bedroom floor right in front of him.
He hurried over and sat you back up against your bed, holding your wrist as if it were the most valuable thing in the world.
"Y/N, what the fuck- why- why would you-" he quickly rambled, already spiraling with his words.
Whenever he noticed your slow breathing, though, he began panicking.
Just then, Changbin rushed in, still in tears. Then he spotted the pills, and he felt like he was gonna pass out.
"Hyung, check her eyes. Check them," he choked out, practically begging.
Chan wasted no time. He took his phone out of his pocket and turned the flashlight on, flashing it into your eyes. Your pupils were pinpointed, which was one sign of overdose. Your eyes were already half-lidded, and you were struggling to stay awake. You felt your head spinning, and you were unresponsive.
Your skin was cold to the touch, and Chan instantly knew that all of these were signs of drug overdose.
"Call the hospital," Chan ordered, throwing Changbin his phone.
As Changbin dialed in the number, Chan gently held you against him, his own breathing the polar opposite of yours. Yours was shallow and calm. His was rapid and unsteady.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry- I'm so, so sorry," he mumbled, burying his face into your neck as he made sure to keep an eye on your breathing and pulse. You could register those words at least, and you used every ounce of strength left in you to give him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.
The ambulance only took around 5 minutes to arrive. By the way Changbin was freaking out and hyperventilating over the phone, they knew not to waste any time.
All of the commotion had woken up the other boys, and whenever they saw paramedics taking you out of the dorm in a stretcher, their hearts dropped.
Seungmin and Felix approached Changbin and Chan, each of the younger members comforting one of the older ones.
That night, everyone had a little bit of spirit killed inside of them. They blamed themselves for not noticing how much you were struggling earlier. They could have lost you. They would have lost you if it hadn't been for Changbin's and Chan's quick reactions.
The morning you woke up in the hospital, the scent of cleaning chemicals and alcohol hit you. You let out a groan at the bright lights, turning your head to the side to avoid them.
The sound startled Chan and Changbin. They had been the ones to sit with you the entire night. The others were out in the lobby and café, drinking coffee to stay awake while they waited for you to wake up.
Changbin immediately rushed over to one side of you, sobbing into your neck. Chan headed over to the other side of you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head while apologizing. His hand gently rubbed your shoulder, reminding you that he wasn't angry at you. He never could be. He was more terrified than anything. They all were.
Changbin just rambled on about how glad he was that you didn't die, his hand gently gripping yours and giving it a firm squeeze.
You didn't respond verbally, but your tears told them enough. You were just as scared as them.
You ended up having your stomach pumped last night when you got to the hospital, and the doctors had to work quickly to stop the bleeding in your arm. Puncturing an artery was no joke, so imagine their panic when they saw two large slashes, along with the fresh line on your wrist. It was accompanied with multiple other red lines that were soon covered up so the boys didn't have to look at them.
Your hospital visit lasted for a few days. You were under monitoring, especially on your arm. You had nothing but fluids for a couple of days, and your stomach eventually calmed down. It hurt and burned like hell, though.
Whenever you were back in the dorms, the boys made sure to keep an eye on you. They didn't follow you everywhere, obviously, but one of them was always a few feet away on the couch, or maybe they were in the kitchen washing dishes while you grabbed a bottle of water. Long story short, that night changed their life forever.
But at the end of the day, they were just grateful that you were still here. If it hadn't been for Changbin and Chan, they would have lost you.
But they didn't. And they hoped they never would.
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how much aura did i lose for tearing up near the end guys
thank you so much for reading this. and remember, you're never alone. you are so, so loved by so many more people than you realize. please take care of yourselves, lovelies. have a great night <3
