Status: Closed
This round is currently has closed for prompting but fills and comments are forever welcome..
✧ Seventeen Holidays ✧
Round 2: Alternate Universes
About
Is there a piece of media that has gripped your heart and lives in your head rent free? Do you like the dynamics of 007/Q or a Sentinel/Guide AU? Maybe its the aesthetics of Song of Achilles or Secret Histories — or maybe its your other fandoms (F1 and Anime girlies looking at you). Get our your media roundups and put our favourite boys into a new world.
We've seen it all here: Raven Cycle, In The Mood For Love, Hamlet, Filipino mythology, and (squints at writing on hand) dilf? Yes we confirm there was a dilf AU. Now lets see what 2023 brings.
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touch me/kill me
Major Tags: risk of character death?
Additional Tags: idolverse, magical realism, having your love language of touch forcefully taken away now that there is risk of killing the other, and how to deal with that
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
Shatter Me au, but only in the sense that i’m borrowing a key plot point, which is MC’s ability to kill someone with a single touch.
i think this would be extremely good in idolverse, where magic is commonplace but not powers this extreme. how do you manage it/hide it, how do you mitigate unintended consequences. what about the burdens of this knowledge all members must carry now, the inevitable wariness? how do you restore trust in a relationship when you don’t even trust yourself?
[FILL] it's almost like you're not afraid (of anything I do)
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, but its still the idolverse, idolverse(with a twist), Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, mingyu touch starvation speed run, Love Confessions, having your love language of touch forcefully taken away now that there is risk of killing the other
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Most people don’t have any abilities. Some go through their lives never discovering what they are, because their ability is something so small and unnoticeable that you wouldn’t think of it as being something supernatural– Mingyu spends most of his life thinking he’s part of the first group.
When most of his friends had started discovering their abilities, if they had any, he’d been busy training to be an idol. He didn’t have time to take the tests or try to figure it out in some other way. Scientists still aren’t completely sure what triggers the awakening of an ability, but it’s common for it to follow with puberty.
Mingyu doesn’t find out what his ability is until he’s 25.
They’ve just finished a round of dance practice, and when they’re saying goodbye to the choreographer, Mingyu shakes his hand. The choreographer collapses onto the floor in front of him, and shocked shouts erupt all around Mingyu, but he can’t hear anything– his ears are ringing, and there’s a strange sensation under his skin, crackling like electricity. It’s like something inside him has finally woken up.
Someone calls an ambulance, and the choreographer is taken to the hospital. Mingyu just stands there. Nobody but him seems to realize what had happened– that it’s his fault. Seungcheol comes up to him and reaches out to put a hand on his elbow, and Mingyu jerks away from him violently.
“No!” Mingyu shouts, almost falling over with the sudden movement. “Don’t touch me!”
“Mingyu–”
“Just– just stop. Don’t come any closer.”
“What’s going on?” Their manager, who’s just come in, asks.
Mingyu turns to look at him, eyes wide, “is he dead?”
“Is who dead?”
“The choreographer!” Mingyu yells, and everyone– everyone is looking at him like he’s insane. He’s raising his voice not just at Seungcheol, but at their manager. “Is he dead?”
“No,” the manager says, but his face has gone grim. “He’s on his way to the hospital.”
Mingyu falls to his knees, staring at his hands, gasping for breath– for air, for anything. Someone comes up behind him and Mingyu’s scared they’re going to try and touch him, but they don’t.
“Minggu-yah,” someone– Jeonghan– says. Mingyu turns to see Jeonghan standing bent over behind him, his expression soft. “What’s going on?”
“It was me,” Mingyu replies, desperately. He needs someone to understand. “It’s my fault, hyung. I–”
“You didn’t mean to,” Jeonghan says, gently. He’s squatting down next to Mingyu now, keeping his hands to himself. “It was an accident, wasn’t it? You didn’t mean for that to happen, did you?”
“No of course not,” Mingyu says. He lets out a soft sigh of relief, seeing how Jeonghan seems to understand what’s going on. “But I–”
“Then don’t blame yourself,” Jeonghan says. “At least wait till we know what’s going on, alright?”
Mingyu’s mouth opens and closes stupidly, unable to say anything. Finally, he nods.
“We need to get you all back to the dorms,” the manager says. “Now.”
Seungcheol begins to herd everyone out of the room, and Mingyu follows mindlessly. He feels feverish and sick, and he’s not sure how he even gets back. He doesn’t remember a car. He just remembers wrapping his arms around himself, hiding his hands, being careful not to touch anyone.
When they get back, Mingyu goes straight to his and Wonwoo’s apartment. Wonwoo seems like he’s about to follow him, but out of the corner of his eyes, Mingyu sees Seungcheol put a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder and shake his head.
He’s too overwhelmed to feel grateful– there’s no room for anything but sickness inside him. He goes straight for his bed after kicking off his shoes and dropping his stuff on the floor, and he curls up on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around himself again. He can’t stop shaking.
Mingyu isn’t sure when or how he manages to fall asleep, and he’s not sure for how long he’s been sleeping when his phone begins to buzz in his pocket, stirring him awake.
For a moment, he’s forgotten what happened. Everything is fine. Reality comes crashing back when he reads the message he’s just gotten.
From Seungcheol
7:02am Mingyu, come down to the sixth floor dorm.
7:02am Team meeting.
With a groan, Mingyu leaves his bed, his body feeling strange and foreign. He makes his way down to the sixth floor, every step a strenuous effort. When he gets there, he finds that everyone else has already gathered– he gets the feeling they’d had a meeting without him. About him. Inviting him was an afterthought, a courtesy.
Mingyu stays standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, hands hidden away.
“Is he dead?” Mingyu asks.
Everyone who hadn’t already noticed him looks up now.
“No,” Seungcheol says, but his expression tells Mingyu that he might as well be. “He’s alright. The doctors aren’t sure what happened yet, but they want you to come in for some tests.”
“So it was me?” Mingyu says. “I did this? I–”
“They’re not sure yet,” Seungcheol interrupts. “You need to stay calm.”
“Stay calm?” Mingyu laughs. “Stay calm? Are you kidding me?”
“Mingyu…” someone says.
It might’ve been Seokmin, but Mingyu’s ears are ringing too loud for him to be sure.
“I’ll go to the hospital,” Mingyu says. “Alone,” he adds, when some of the members begin to get up.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Minghao says. “Don’t push us away.”
“What if I did this? What if I killed him?”
“He’s not dead,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head. “He’s gonna be fine.”
“I didn’t know you had a medical degree, Seungkwan. Please, do tell, how did this happen?”
“Mingyu, you’re being–”
“Don’t touch me!” Mingyu screams, when Minghao comes closer, reaching a hand out towards him. “Why don’t any of you get it? Don’t touch me! Not unless you want to end up in the hospital.”
The members look at him, some of them like they’re about to say something, but before any of them can, Mingyu leaves. He calls one of their managers and asks him to take him to the hospital.
This is how Mingyu finds out he has an ability. By nearly killing someone. The only reason the choreographer had survived turned out to be because he had a super natural endurance and stamina– Such a small, inconspicuous thing that he didn’t even know he had the ability until it saved his life.
Mingyu’s ability is much more insidious. Mingyu’s ability can kill people. If he ever touches someone, they’ll die. His ability will suck their energy; their life force; out of them, and leave them a shell of themselves. Dead.
The company announces that Mingyu is taking a mental health break a week after the incident with the choreographer. They don’t have much choice– Mingyu can’t go around normal people like this. With his ability. He’d end up killing someone. Mingyu’s surprised they don’t just kick him out immediately. They should. He’d even asked them to, but they, and everyone else, had refused.
The members don’t want him to leave the group, but they don’t want to be near him either. They can barely be in the same room as him.
When Mingyu gets called back to the hospital for further testing, none of them get up to offer to go with him. They all look at him warily– it’s mostly his own fault. He’d been snapping at people, bristling like a threatened animal; he’d caused this. He’d wanted this. If they all hate him and are too scared to get close to him, at least they’d be safe.
But when Mingyu’s getting into the back of their manager’s car, someone stops the door from shutting with an outstretched hand.
“Minggu-yah.”
“Jeonghan hyung?” Mingyu replies, looking at him wide eyed. He scrambles backwards into the seat furthest away from the open door. “What are you doing here?”
Jeonghan smiles, getting into the car and sitting down in the seat on the opposite side. “I need to go to the hospital too. Figured we could carpool.”
“What? Why do you need to go to the hospital?”
“My elbow,” Jeonghan replies, pointing to it. “It’s alright, isn’t it? We’ll be careful. No touching.”
“Right,” Mingyu says. He should argue, fight against this– but he can’t find it in himself to do so.
He’s too grateful to be close to someone to push Jeonghan away. It’s selfish, and cruel, but he hasn’t been this close to someone in weeks– even with a car seat in between them, he can feel the heat from Jeonghan’s body, his presence wrapping around him warm and tight. Mingyu is a horrible person.
The manager starts the car, and they’re off. Jeonghan sits there next to him, quietly, contemplating something. Mingyu wants to ask him things, talk to him, he’s so starved for human connection that he can barely stop himself from reaching out and touching Jeonghan’s shoulder. Just once, just…
“I think,” Jeonghan starts, suddenly turning to look back at Mingyu. “I think you’re trying to push everyone away.”
“What?”
“I think you’re trying to push us away,” Jeonghan says. “Me, the members, everyone. Because you don’t want to hurt us. And while I get the latter part, the first part isn’t fair. We’re adults. We can take care of ourselves. So stop trying to make everyone hate you, won’t you? It’s not going to work. We’re all quite stubborn, you know.”
“You should hate me,” Mingyu says. “You should avoid me, but you won’t, so I have to push you away– don’t you see? Don’t you get it? What if I can’t help myself, what if I– You know what I am, hyung. You know what I’m like. I haven’t touched anyone in 29 days. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Jeonghan sighs, “I know. I know, Mingyu. And I wish… If I could, I’d bear this burden for you. You of all people shouldn’t have to do this, to avoid touch like a beaten dog. You, who’s so full of love, shouldn’t be able to not show it how you want.”
Mingyu stares at him. Then, “your elbow’s fine, isn’t it?”
“That obvious, huh?” Jeonghan laughs.
“Hyung…”
“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Jeonghan says, voice softening. “You’re not alone, Mingyu. Despite whatever you might feel, we’re all here. I’m here,” he reaches out, slowly. “I’m not going to touch you. Just the sleeve of your jacket. Is that okay?”
Mingyu’s breath catches in his throat, and his brain is screaming at him, no, no, no, but what he does is nod.
Jeonghan grabs hold of the sleeve of his jacket, on his upper arm, his grip tight. The material wraps around Mingyu’s bicep, tightening, almost like someone’s holding his arm. Almost.
“The reason the others were hesitant to come isn’t because they’re scared of you,” Jeonghan continues. “It’s because they don’t want to upset you. But I guess I’m used to being the one ruffling your feathers, so I didn’t mind.”
“I…” Mingyu starts, swallowing roughly. Something is happening, but he doesn’t know what it is. “I’m glad it’s you, hyung.”
Mingyu is surprised when what comes out of him is the truth. He’d gotten used to lying these past weeks. But when he’s looking at Jeonghan, he wants to tell the truth. Jeonghan seems to be the only one who understands, if only a little, what’s going on inside him.
It’s funny. Jeonghan has always been the person who Mingyu had the least in common with, but at the same time, he’s the person who seems to know him best. He seems to understand Mingyu without having to ask.
“Have you ever wondered if maybe… if maybe your ability is something small? Something you wouldn’t even really notice?” Mingyu asks, hesitatingly. Jeonghan is still holding his sleeve.
“Yeah,” Jeonghan replies. “I think everyone has, don’t you? I always wonder. But I can’t think of what it could be. Maybe it’s something stupid, like having a really good sense of smell.”
“I think,” Mingyu says, “I think I know what it is.”
“You do?”
“People can’t lie to you, hyung,” Mingyu says. “I can’t lie to you.”
Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then, “have you tried?”
“Yes,” Mingyu mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed. The truth is tumbling out of him, and they’re gonna be at the hospital soon. “Yes, I’ve tried.”
“About what?”
“I…”
The car pulls to a stop. Jeonghan lets go of Mingyu’s sleeve, and the loss of pressure is devastating. It had been the only thing grounding Mingu, and now he feels like he’s spinning through space, untethered. He wants to reach out and grab onto Jeonghan, or ask him to hold him again, but he doesn’t. It’s the truth, but if he doesn’t speak, then Jeonghan won’t know. If he just keeps his mouth shut, like he’s been doing all these years, Jeonghan will never know.
They get out of the car, and walk into the hospital again. And again, Mingyu starts to feel feverish and strange, only half there. He’s drifting out of reach, and even with Jeonghan right next to him, he feels a million miles away.
Seventeen have another team meeting the next day. This time they all gather in a room in the HYBE building. Jeonghan sits down next to Mingyu, close enough that Mingyu can feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. Minghao sits down on his other side, a bit further away. Mingyu wants to apologize, not just to him, but to everyone– but he doesn’t know where to start.
“So,” the manager starts, sitting down at the end of the table. “The results have come back from the hospital, and we have a clearer idea of what’s going on now.”
Mingyu tenses up, jaw clenching.
“Mingyu-ssi… it’s true that your ability is to… kill people, through touch,” the manager grimaces. “But we can work around it. Apparently, it’s your skin which has this quality, so if you touch someone through fabric, nothing will happen. So as long as you wear clothes that cover you up, and gloves, you should be able to promote as normal.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Mingyu asks. “What if I don’t want to risk it? I could kill someone. I could kill someone at this table.”
The members, except Jeonghan, squirm uncomfortably. Jeonghan is the first to speak up.
“I’m willing to take that risk,” Jeonghan says firmly.
“Hyung–”
“Mingyu,” Jeonghan says. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. If you leave, I’ll go with you. I’m not going to let you be alone.”
“I’ll take that risk too,” Seokmin says, suddenly. Mingyu looks over at him, wide eyed. Seokmin is smiling at him.
“Me too,” Minghao says.
The other members begin to nod in agreement, and Mingyu feels himself spinning, spinning, spinning– Jeonghan grabs the sleeve of his jacket. He doesn’t say anything, just holds on to Mingyu.
“What will we tell the press?” Seungcheol asks. “They’re going to notice something’s up.”
“We have our PR team working on something,” the manager replies. “We’ll tell you before we release it. For now, Mingyu will continue to be on a mental health break.”
“So it won’t be the truth, then?” Mingyu says. “We’re going to lie?”
“We have to,” the manager says. “I mean, we don’t have much choice, do we?”
“Right,” Mingyu mumbles, looking away.
He looks down at his hands, his skin. Nobody is ever going to touch him again. Nobody.
When they get back to the dorms, Mingyu is prepared to go back to his and Wonwoo’s apartment alone. He’d asked Wonwoo if he could have it for himself a while back, and Wonwoo had agreed. It was for the best. What if Mingyu killed him?
But now, when everyone else has stepped out of the elevator, when Mingyu is supposed to take it up to the last floor alone– he’s not alone. Jeonghan is standing next to him.
“Hyung,” Mingyu says. “What are you doing?”
continued on ao3, because it got too long https://archiveofourown.org/works/44553109