Previously named 'skz oneshots'
So this is my little hobby, writing Changbin one-shots since he is immensely underappreciated. Starting this book I thought I was going to write about all the members but in fact, I have not.
All or some of the membe...
CWS: small description of body horror, mental hospital.
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In the dimly lit corridors of the mental institution, the air hung heavy with the scent of antiseptic and despair. The pale green walls seemed to close in, trapping the unfortunate souls housed there. Beyond the thick steel doors, deep in the recesses of the facility, Changbin sat alone, strapped to a chair, his body confined by a straitjacket and his mouth sewn shut with thick, black stitches. His wild, hollow eyes were a haunting contrast to the grotesque smile permanently carved into his face.
Changbin hadn't always been like this. Once, he was just a boy—though even back then, something about him had seemed off. The other kids at school had always teased him, laughing at his wide, awkward grin. It started innocently enough, but it was the constant mockery that had turned something inside him. The day he decided to carve his own smile was the day he realized just how powerful he really was.
Changbin was a mutant.
His powers—unlike anything the world had seen—were dangerous, raw, and untamed. He could manipulate reality itself, bending the world around him to his twisted will. But with great power came immense instability. His mind fractured under the weight of it all, and when the institution found him after his horrific act of self-mutilation, they didn't understand what they were truly dealing with. The doctors had sewn his cheeks shut, believing it would stop him from doing further harm. They had no idea how deep the madness ran.
Today, however, Changbin would have visitors.
The X-Men had been tracking him for some time now, following the rumors of a boy whose power could reshape the very fabric of existence. They didn't want to believe it, but when Charles Xavier felt the ripples of Changbin's mind in the astral plane, he knew it was time. Changbin was too powerful, too dangerous, to be left unmonitored. They needed to see for themselves what had become of him.
As the heavy doors to the institution slid open, three figures stepped into the cold, sterile halls—Logan (Wolverine), Jean Grey, and Scott Summers (Cyclops). They had been chosen for this mission because of their unique skill sets. Logan's enhanced senses, Jean's telepathy, and Scott's leadership were the best combination to confront a mutant as unstable as Changbin.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Logan growled, his voice thick with skepticism as he glanced around. "Smells like a damn morgue in here."
Jean nodded, her face grim. "His mind... it's fractured. I can feel it even from here. Be careful. He's... dangerous."
Scott stepped forward, his visor catching the dull light. "Let's not underestimate him. If he's as powerful as Professor X thinks, this won't be easy."
They approached the door to Changbin's cell, a reinforced room designed to hold even the most dangerous patients. The guards opened it slowly, revealing the boy inside.
Changbin sat perfectly still, his gaze locked onto the trio as they entered. His eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw them—recognition, perhaps—but his grotesque smile remained frozen in place. The stitches on his cheeks pulled his skin tight, making the grin even more disturbing.
Jean recoiled slightly, feeling the madness radiating from him like a storm.
"Changbin?" Scott began cautiously. "We're the X-Men. We've come to help you."
Changbin's eyes flickered, and the room seemed to shudder, the temperature dropping instantly. Jean could feel his power bubbling beneath the surface, a chaotic mass of energy just waiting to be unleashed. His thoughts were incoherent—scattered and broken—but one thing was clear: he didn't trust them.
Logan crossed his arms, his expression hardened. "Kid's in bad shape. What the hell did they do to him?"
Jean reached out telepathically, attempting to calm him. "Changbin, we know what they've done to you. You're angry, confused. But we can help—"
Suddenly, Changbin's mind surged with an overwhelming force, pushing her back with a telepathic scream. Jean stumbled, catching herself against the wall as she gasped for air.
Scott's hand shot up to his visor, ready to fire if necessary. "Jean, you okay?"
"I... I'm fine," she breathed, her voice shaking. "His mind... it's shattered. He doesn't even know what's real anymore."
Changbin's eyes darted between them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He tried to speak, but the stitches pulled painfully at his mouth. The muffled sounds that escaped were a mix of frustration and rage. He struggled against the restraints, his body twitching with barely-contained fury.
Logan took a step forward, his voice low. "Kid, I get it. You're angry. But you gotta calm down. We're not your enemies."
Changbin's head snapped toward him, and for a moment, his gaze softened. But then, in an instant, the room began to warp. The walls rippled, bending like rubber. The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced unnaturally across the walls. Reality itself was shifting, bending to Changbin's will.
Jean gasped, clutching her head as the psychic pressure grew. "His power... it's out of control!"
Scott raised his hand, ready to fire a concussive blast. "Changbin! Stop! You're going to tear this place apart!"
But Changbin didn't stop. His mind was too far gone, his power too great. He couldn't control it—he didn't want to control it. For too long, he had been bound, silenced, forced to hide who he truly was. Now, the chaos in his mind was bleeding into the real world.
Jean fought through the psychic noise, her voice trembling. "Changbin... please... let us help you. We can show you how to control it."
For a moment, the madness paused. Changbin's eyes locked with Jean's, and in that brief second, a flicker of something human passed through his gaze. Regret? Fear? It was impossible to tell. But it was enough.
The walls stopped shifting, the lights stopped flickering. Changbin slumped in his chair, his eyes closing as his power receded.
Jean, breathing heavily, approached him cautiously. "It's okay... we're going to get you out of here."
But as she reached for him, Changbin opened his eyes once more, and his smile—stretched and twisted—grew even wider beneath the stitches. His thoughts echoed through her mind, a chilling whisper:
