Chapter Text
With the world being a hodgepodge of animal shifters, Ryu Gunwoo was honestly relieved at first that Park Moondae had been a dog-shifter, just like him.
The issue was the small breed categorization on his identification card.
Admittedly, one of his first thoughts after finding the suicide note was, who left this poor puppy out to fend for himself? And then, it made sense, of course they did. He was likely too weak to survive.
Dog-shifters as they were, deep down, everyone understood when the runt of the litter was often left behind. Gunwoo never liked it, never agreed with it, but there was a line between rationale and reality.
(He lived in that reality’s body now.)
Well, nothing to do about it, he’ll take care of this body, if no one else would.
From now on, he’s Park Moondae. A painfully small Maltese Dog shifter, but he knew better than to underestimate him for his own size— Moondae was small, but he had a heart and tenacity that wouldn't lose to the bigger breeds.
He’d survive.
(...first, some food.)
Revealing your shifter breed was mandatory for most legal registration processes, but actually showing your shifted form wasn’t— and honestly, he felt extremely lucky the producer didn’t put him on the spot for it.
Small breeds were definitely popular in the idol scene, and unfortunately, he weighed pride and rationality as the Debut or Die warning blinked over his head over and over and ultimately decided, no, absolutely not, maybe if I were held at gunpoint, but not now.
He really didn’t want to be known as the quintessential purse puppy of the group at this stage in his life. At Moondae’s age, he wouldn’t be the maknae anyway.
(His hopes were dashed a few weeks in, but he tries really hard not to think about it in the future.)
Honestly, if shifting wasn’t essential for health and daily management, he would’ve rathered to never shift at all whilst filming. Alas, Moondae’s physical condition was already declining even before the suicide attempt that Gunwoo woke up from— even with the Skills, he found himself longingly looking toward the doors to the Shiftrooms every time a reasonable break turned up in the schedule.
He had to get this kid healthy as soon as possible. For his sanity’s sake.
Thankfully, the production company had the common decency to not install any cameras in shifting breakrooms and even the hallway leading up to it, so Moondae simply looked over his shoulder three times before going in every time.
The initial screening interview was as brief as possible, and yet, it felt like he was handing over knives to the production computer knowing full well they could stab him in the back with them at any time.
Moondae felt sick to his stomach when their eyes glimmered, learning he was not just an orphaned dog shifter— the race of shifters most well known for pack— he was also a breed that stayed small even fully grown.
He was prime television.
Honestly, if Park Moondae had been Ryu Gunwoo’s little brother, he would be fighting the universe to not let him debut. Who in their sane minds would let this poor kid jump into that fire?
“Are you sure, Park Moondae-ssi? We will honour your request, but… if I may be frank about it, it may affect your chances of getting votes and debuting.”
“Yes, I'm sure,” Moondae held back his irritation. Even if he died, this was something he wouldn’t change his mind about. “I would like my shifted form to not be publicly revealed during filming, unless the circumstances really warrant it or it’s inevitable.”
They honoured it, on a basic, privacy-respecting level.
But Moondae knew that without a company backing, there was little he could do legally if they didn’t heed his request. Still, he had to try asking, if only for himself.
The first problem came with Seon Ahyeon.
He was clingy. Very clingy. If the antlers hadn’t popped out in his sleep, Moondae would’ve thought he was a duckling shifter instead of a fallow deer— he seemed to have completely imprinted on Moondae somehow, eyes wide and shoulders nervous as he wandered the unfamiliar territory of the survival show after choosing the world’s least intimidating guard puppy to latch onto.
Moondae couldn’t bring himself to chase him away, though. He didn’t want a personality controversy this early, and this was a better choice than Lee Sejin.
(And dog shifters had a natural inclination to stand guard, anyways. Maybe Ahyeon noticed that and that was why Moondae was chosen as the safe space.)
(He didn’t mind. He really didn’t… but he was an orphan and an outcast, and so was Moondae, so this was a double whammy of experiences dogs should’ve had that he has never had before. It was very weird.)
“W- Would you like… some chocolate?”
Moondae stares at it.
“Yeah, sure.”
For some reason after that, Ahyeon continued to find every opportunity to offer him a chocolate bar throughout filming.
And Moondae accepted it. If he was giving food away, clearly, it was only right to accept it. What if it goes to waste? Food is food, and food is good. The food did no wrong.
“Eat more, Moondae,” was now a phrase he was hearing too often. “Don’t rush, you’ll choke. We’re not going to steal it from you.”
It was very odd. And though his brain logically understood that, and his body knew that rushing through food was just asking to throw it all back up— it may have been Moondae’s physical instincts that made it hard to hold back either way.
He’d been eating regularly since he entered this body.
But even before then, conditioning himself to accept that food was no longer an insecurity was difficult. He’d already overcome this once in his own college years— he felt bitter having to go through it all again.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he wasn’t sure yet, Ahyeon and Keun Sejin were being helpful enough by sharing their food during mealtimes and keeping snacks on hand. They seem to keep track of Moondae’s eating habits far better than he did his own.
The problem was: Lee Sejin B was having way too much fun with this.
“He’s growling. He’s growling,” Sejin sings, all excited. He waves his small tub of the day’s dessert in Moondae’s vague direction. “You want my pudding?”
Ahyeon reacts differently to the perceived growling, clearly because unlike the obnoxious bear, he’s a meek herbivore. “Moondae, s- should I… do you want… I can give you mine too…”
“I am fine, please eat your own food, Ahyeon.”
Why were they acting like wild animals doting on someone’s lost domesticated pet? He can take care of himself. He’s older than them. Seriously.
Pulling all-nighters with Moondae’s body in a roughly recovered state was only possible because of the system’s conveniently-offered skill. Sleep is for the Dead, it said, and sure, he’ll ignore the nagging in his mind that reminds him Small Breeds are considered biologically weaker. Inside his soul is a Mid-Sized breed. Nevermind that Moondae is alarmingly teacup-sized. He will be fine.
(If he’s not fine, he’ll die from failing to debut, anyways.)
“Moondae… are you not resting yet today either?”
Ever since he’d dropped formalities with Ahyeon, he’d expanded his repertoire of fussing over Moondae’s condition. Food was one thing, reminders to rest and shift was another. It wasn’t possible to hide that Moondae was a small breed since most people witnessed him going into the correct Shiftrooms when he had to, even if Ahyeon never pried about exactly what kind of shifter he was.
He could tell Ahyeon was curious, though.
Unlike Ahyeon, Moondae never slipped in his transformations.
At the most tiring and stressful stages of the survival show, most participants have already let their ears, eyes, or tails show. The harsh, keyed-up reactions and scoldings from the trainers during practice have only exacerbated stress levels, but Moondae knew it was for TV, so he held his irritation back.
He didn’t want to be focused on as a spectacle. From the way the production was setting up the lower ranks, he already knew Lee Sejin A was going to be focused on, edited all the way to hamster paradise and back. It sounded like a nightmare.
Getting ranked Platinum was not on the agenda. It was not even on the horizon. He didn’t know what to do with this.
“Y-” Moondae was, beyond anything else, shocked when Ahyeon grabbed his hand holding the platinum badge and held him together in place with the most sincere, desperate gaze of a pleading fawn, “you can’t… shouldn’t eat it, Moondae.”
As if I would?
Sejin, big dumb and stupid, came in with an uncharacteristical urgency and an oomph, oddly careful hands covering Moondae’s mouth from behind while the other closed over the platinum badge as a second wall of defense. “Oh wow,” he breathes, “that’s amazing, Moondae-Moondae.”
As if Moondae in any way intended to commit self-inflicted dysphagia via enthusiastic metal consumption. He’s a bit offended.
He does admit, though, he used to put buttons or small badges just like this in his mouth, because just rolling them around helped to stave off snack cravings. At some point in his adulthood he turned to lollipops trying to break that habit, and then he began chewing his nails. It was an endless cycle.
“M-Moondae! No!”
All things considered, Stupid Bear Sejin was more occupied with brandishing his new bite mark around, showing it off to everyone, than anything else for the rest of the filming.
“Guys see this? Do you see this? Look, he bit me,” he said, particularly loudly just to grate on Moondae’s nerves, “He bit me!” like it’s an utter marvel.
“Oh, that bite pattern…”
Moondae looked over as Sejin seems to have found Ryu Chungwoo in his conquest to show off his new-fangled chomp like a badge of honour to every single human in this building.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Chungwoo cut himself off, but it’s clear to Moondae that the wolf very clearly recognized what the fangs of another dog shifter looked like, but was respectful enough to keep the realization to himself. He even met Moondae’s eyes across the hall and Moondae’s urgency to pretend to be casual while looking away failed miserably. “It looks pretty deep, it didn’t bleed, huh?”
“Yeah! He bit me enough to bruise but still couldn’t break skin! Isn’t he adorable?!”
“...I think you should go get that treated.”
Ryu Chungwoo, fellow dog shifter, is very well aware of the damage dogs can do if they really meant to hurt you. With that in mind, the fact that Moondae only bit to warn was likely the cutest thing about the situation.
(And to Moondae’s relief, Chungwoo kept that part to himself, too.)
Moondae hated some things in life.
He definitely hated being sick.
Moondae’s body crashed hard. Most of the gratefully-provided week of rest was spent fading in and out of consciousness, struggling to down food that kept trying to come back up, and when he was conscious enough to hold human form for a reliable amount of time, he stumbled out for medicine and food.
The heating pad he invested in warmed his bedspread far too well. If he were allowed to live in it, he certainly would.
And when he could hold more than superficial thoughts, he spent the rest of his time scrolling through initial impressions of the signal song stage. The signal song itself wasn’t too crazy, it was how they started the episode that had everyone wondering if everyone in the production team was out of their minds.
Seriously, that episode of Music Bomb was too much.
Coiled up in a basket full of linen and pillows— because the bedspread was too large for his shifted form and he didn’t want to wake up suffocating under it again— Moondae contemplated not propping up the phone on the edge so he could doomscroll. Alas, duty calls.
➔ OMG platinum is s t a c k e d holy
➔ Cha Eugene is 300% a cat a cat a cat a cat center yes
↳ fr we never see cats center omgladlakjdsal yesssss
↳ yall be saying this when cheongryeo exists
➔ Am I missing something? Who’s Park Moondae?
➔ the kim raebin appeal is insane
➔ we already know rcw is a wolf shifter… but the rest has me questioning. They all look so soft compared to lineups like vtic
↳ yeee im worried he wont fit in
↳ I guess we know who the leader will be! No way a wolf’s giving up leadership lol
➔ HELLO? Seon Ahyeon?? Seon Ahyeon??? SEON AHYEON???
➔ that moondae guy is a bunny if i’ve ever seen one
↳ source???
➔ not everyone speculating breeds in the comments lmaooo
↳ do you blame us after the clusterfuck that was the last season
↳ honestly no that was crazy
↳ why did they team a lion with a rabbit we will never know
↳ if there wasn’t a pregnancy scandal there would’ve been a murder and we still can’t figure out if that was a good or bad case scenario
↳ *SEVERAL murders are you forgetting the snake and mouse
↳ I still think we should have their breed in the introductions… why do they never learn
What is with these people and the endless breed conversations. He really couldn’t hold it against the viewers, honestly. Idols were hardly owed privacy at all, and their shifter breeds were often their main catching points. There have even been idol groups formed specifically of particularly beautiful shifters of only certain breeds. Representation was important in this day and age.
That was also why trainees like Eugene and Raebin already had their breed information listed in full on their agency profiles. For athletes like Chungwoo it was for sportsmanship and fairness, but it was like they were already being sold for pedigree, and the thought made Moondae a little sick.
Of the Platinums, Moondae was the only one without it explicitly stated anywhere. No wonder there was a certain buzz to his name.
Being revealed may be inevitable at this rate…
While he was lost in thought, the phone blinked to black from his lack of scrolling. He got jumpscared by his own, painfully teacup-sized, reflection. His figure didn’t even fill the screen. Revealing this was a surefire way to get some rabid fans.
(The thought of that sent shudders down his spine.)
“Let’s figure out how to get points to invest in Physical Attractiveness…”
Moondae’s taken to sticking to Ahyeon during the downtimes. Especially now that the two Sejins were grating on his gears and Choi Wongil was subtly trying to pick a fight every chance for parts— Ahyeon was his only source of peace in these horrible, horrible, trying times.
“Moondae, are you feeling alright?”
Ahyeon’s polite prompting is subtle, but his intentions are a clear whisper of a habitual routine Moondae’s been neglecting along with proper meals nowadays— going to the Shiftrooms to regulate his stress levels.
He’d been trying not to, with how much conflict there’s been in this team, he didn’t want the cameras finding him going in. But the elevated stress was not boding well for his mental state.
“I’ll be fine, thank you for your concern.”
Look at Ahyeon’s precious doe-eyed pretty face. You can do it, Moondae, do it for him.
In contrast, Ahyeon’s been doing remarkably better after Moondae cheered him up. At least Moondae didn’t have to worry about him crashing and burning in on himself anymore, and now he had a very compliant fallow deer that didn’t question when he sat in his peripherals.
“Why are you two cuddling?” Lee Sejin, big and dumb and apparently blind now because clearly Moondae and Ahyeon are just sitting beside each other, their knees touching but that’s normal on a basic personal level when you’re sitting around in a training room, “that’s not fair. Let me in.”
“Absolutely not. Big Breeds aren’t allowed to shift here.”
As much ire as Moondae has to Lee Sejin the Actor and his showstopping inability to read a room, he was genuinely relieved the first shifter he ran into in the Shiftrooms was him.
The Shiftroom beds were comfortable, but standardized as they were, they were a little too spacious for a true small breed seeking actual comfort. Considering physical needs, it wasn’t uncommon for small breeds to share scents or warmth trying to get their hormone levels stable.
Especially as the bigger breeds greatly outnumbered them, simply being in the same space as natural predators tended to wear their mental states thin. Moondae was doing fine, but a part of him didn’t blame Actor Lee Sejin for openly expressing his discomfort.
Actor Sejin was, as everyone’s already seen from his worst moments, a hamster shifter.
One could only wonder how he’s been holding up as the smallest shifter participant, being so consistently compared to the biggest shifter participant just because they shared the same name.
Moondae, in his embarrassing puppy form, had been resting curled up on the highest point of a fuzzy climbing tower, grateful for the peace. Then Actor Sejin had shown up, looked around desperately for anyone else, and basically scampered up to Moondae sniffling for cuddles like an overwhelmed child.
Hamsters needed to burrow, they needed to hide, they needed their safe shelters. The shiftrooms made for mainly cats, birds, and rabbits would not have anything for him.
Needless to say, a small breed like Moondae would hardly be sufficient shelter either. But Sejin still coiled up best he could into the folds of his stomach, burrowing as far as he could while Moondae managed a semblance of draping his arm around him.
This routine continued through the entire team prep period for October 31st and, occasionally after it as well. If Actor Sejin realized who the puppy in the shiftroom was, he made no indication.
Moondae didn’t glare at the puppy gummies Ahyeon offered to him.
There’s no way Ahyeon’s noticed, right? Big Sejin was still speculating, and even fellow dog shifter Gold 1 has been none the wiser. Still, the sugar was a good distraction from the exhaustion and exasperation of the day creeping in.
As expected, Ahyeon’s his only source of happiness in these trying times.
Inner peace is best. It’s tragic that it now comes tagged with a Lee Sejin B, but it’s okay. Ahyeon’s beauty conquers all. For unrelated reasons, how does one go about acquiring bear-repellant spray in this day and age?
➔ omg aren’t these three the same age? Cute
➔ they seem like good friends
➔ is this the crazy guy that danced POP☆CON lmao
↳ you don’t get it. He’s my popcorn fairy. I love him. Leave him alone
↳ con con con control
↳ you sound like you’re having trouble controlling your heart my friend
➔ he genuinely has such a good voice tho
➔ why are moondae fans just skinwalkers in mass popcon psychosis
↳ i like his voice
↳ submit to the pop☆con mind control with us popcontrol_moondae.gif
➔ the balance in this trio is insane
↳ fr main dancer + contemporary dancer + main vocal the power they have as a trio I’d support them as their own unit ngl
Moondae’s running thin on patience, energy, and pride.
To think they’d cram all the remaining interviews and group scenes filming just five days before the first episode airs… along with the episode review, this upcoming schedule is just set out to kill him before the system does.
If he could drown in his bowl of ramyun he would. And he could fit into it, technically, but it’d make a mess of his fur and it would be a waste so he shouldn’t.
Then came time for the individual PR Videos.
For a self-introduction, Moondae had absolutely no idea what to do, and the vagueness of the filming wasn’t helping. He definitely had to appeal to the audience now, though, considering how many haters he has.
This was the stage where most participants were planning to reveal their shift breeds, on their own terms, and mainly because it was so integral to a person’s identity that it was almost essential to building their character in a survival show all about relatability and likeability like this one.
Still, Moondae’s heart is set on absolutely not.
“And here’s how we’ll be deciding your product placement features— a 15 minute scavenger hunt!”
It’s a race. 70 people. He'll be lucky if he’s not trampled to bits in the first second.
Everyone started bolting the second the announcer signalled them to, and that certainly gave them a perfect cold comedic open for a variety show like this, but Moondae was more focused on the rumbling of the earth around him and the gratitude to not be under anyone’s shoes to even think of catching up.
Well, there wouldn’t be a point going into that mass stampede. The best way to get on a rush hour train is to walk to the far end where there’s less people. Obviously.
He’s a little jealous of the bird shifters that have already made it outside.
He had to admit, some of these spots were obviously kept in places only climbers, flyers, or small breeds could reach.
“Woah, Moondae! Where did you find so many gold ones?!”
“They were just lying around,” he said, and quietly never mentioned that he pushed a camera out of the way and snuck away from Sejin and Iljoon just to shift and squeeze between the world’s most inconveniently-aligned brick gap to get one of them.
Karma came back at him, though.
What am I supposed to do with a guitar I can’t play and a flower crown that’ll look tacky on my B- grade face?
“Ahyeon-ah.”
The solution to all his problems, his lord and saviour, his guardian angel, descended from heaven, the only light in his life—
➔ has anyone seen moondae’s pr live
↳ who hasn’t???
↳ what pr live he never even introduced himself I know more about chicken feet than I do park moondae and I was there the entire hour he was live
➔ i want to adopt and feed him
↳ ps you have to get in line lmaooo seon ahyeon was there first
↳ what??? context
↳ once moondae was mentioned in ahyeon’s live, he kept going on about how he kept feeding him snacks on set
↳ wutt thats so cute omg
↳ those two are my roman empire
↳ watch episode two. Your roman empire is thriving
➔ absolute legend did nothing but eat. King
➔ he didn’t even do anything why is everyone obsessing over this nothingburger of a man
➔ he was eating like his life depended on it. He’s def a dog but thats me reachin
↳ wait no come back and explain
↳ here http://wetube.com/watch?_doggo_chicken_mukbang
↳ holy sht that looks exactly like him
↳ moonpuppy theory goes hard
➔ he finished his food very cleanly. Im a proud mom
↳ HE LEFT THE SAUCEEEEEEE
↳ what about the sauce? The sauce? The sauce? The sauce? Sauce? Don’t waste the sauce??
↳ no no you see him unwrap another gimbap at the end just as it cuts off HE SOAKED THE GIMBAP AND FINISHED IT ALL I PROMISE
↳ who are you the producer in disguise?? Come out here and explain why you cut his lifestream off! Imma fight youuuuuu
➔ so we agree he’s a hamster or a dog
↳ more like a pig lol he certainly inhaled all that food like one. What kind of idol does that?
↳ get out of my comment you racist pos
↳ our son ate so neatly and you still have things to complain about?
“There’s this insanely cute other puppy in the Small Breed Shiftrooms sometimes. He’s always sleeping somewhere hard to reach, so I’ve never been able to play with him. What a shame.”
“In the Small Breed Rooms? Awhh, but you’re the youngest! There’s someone smaller than you?”
“No, I think he’s fully grown! I’m so curious… even I’ll be in the Mid-Sized Breed Rooms soon, so how cute is that?”
Okay, which bastard started that rumour?
Moondae had to admit his heart froze in his chest when that dialogue, a casual exchange between Choi Wongil and Ha Iljoon, made its way to the aired episode of Idol Inc.
After the team missions began, the pack dynamics of the final lineup was a hot topic to the viewers, and with that in consideration— everyone was nervous about the eventual pack synergy of the final debut group.
While most people were open about their shifts and even have shifted on camera before— Cha Eugene, the fan favourite, was very proud of his gallant form, as giant orange cats tended to be— and others were particularly obvious or have already been revealed prior, with Seon Ahyeon’s bambi nature clear to the world and Ryu Chungwoo’s Great Wolf form already disclosed with his sports record per athletic rules.
But a few contestants haven’t been very open about it, and it was becoming very obvious as the show went on.
Particularly, Park Moondae’s shift was one that everyone talked about, and yet, a clear answer never arrived. There were speculations, of course, too many, with Keunse’s obnoxious Tibetan Fox meme throwing him into a tidal wave of social regret.
There as also that scene that was clipped to hell and back, featuring the scavenger hunt.
“You’re so suspicious!” Sejin B teased him, and Gold 1 and 2 joined in, “you went out of your way to hide like that?”
It was clear as day— Moondae approached a camera, fiddling with something behind it— and then, he looked back, clearly making sure Sejin and Iljoon were far away, before taking the camera down.
The movements and sounds later from the darkness of the camera’s blind spots was obviously shifting, and then, Moondae emerged again, gold capsule in hand and brick dust smeared across his hair. He dusted away the leaves tangled between them, fixed the camera, and went back to report his findings to the other two.
The audience reactions were mean.
➔ go king give us nothinnnngggg
➔ either a climber or a digger for sure.
↳ my bet is on flyer
↳ no feathers thoo??
↳ squirrel moondae squirrel moondae squirrel moondae
↳ trying to manifest it like bloody mary
➔ how is he so desperate to hide it lmaooo is it embarrassing?
↳ must be ugly
↳ must be controversial
➔ look at him being all covered in dust after it kwkwkwk cute
➔ baby puppy running back to his big frens like ‘lookie what i found!!’ uwu
Moondae had a decision to make, too many haters on his case, and just about every piece of his remaining dainty telling him not to do it.
But he had determination to live, like dying dogs do.
Blonde Moondae took the world by storm and monopolized attention away from Moonpuppy theories. Moondae sat down and enjoyed his ramyun with peace of mind.
…or that’s what he would say if it weren’t for his next team match.
Cha Eugene had the tendency to perk up like a shining beacon of pure adoration whenever something interesting happened. Sometimes it’s a high note that Moondae hits, other times it’s the sight of chicken feet freshly microwaved.
And other times, it’s the sight of Kim Raebin, sulking.
“The cameras are still on, y’know,” Moondae quietly prompts, but it seems like Raebin, a small, dusty-coloured lop-earred bunny, was intent on staying inside Moondae’s shirt today.
He even stamped his feet on Moondae’s stomach in protest of being removed.
“Come out, Raebunny, Raebunny…” Eugene waved around a fuzzy toy. Moondae wondered if he had to remind him that thing was for cats like Eugene, not angry bunnies throwing a tantrum against Moondae’s bellybutton. “It’s not scary out here.”
You’re making things worse.
He supposed the kid felt grateful that Moondae saved him from being ganged up and evil edited again during the team feedback session. Learning that Raebin chose him in the team for his teamwork was honestly more surprising than the fact that Moondae now had a bunny in his shirt. He was just trying to relax, dammit.
Sejin A would’ve been tucking himself in there too if they were in the Small Breed shiftrooms. He looked like he really wanted to join in, he was stressed as hell too.
Alas, Ahyeon’s in the other team…
Moondae had to admit, if Eugene stared any more holes into him, he’d do hamster and bunny a favour and go into the shiftrooms himself. The rest of the team can’t follow them there, at least. Even Eugene is big enough he’s a Mid-sized cat.
The bunny finally escaped his burrow when Moondae suggested the superhero theme, and then after that he camps at the electric piano refusing to get up for dinner until he’s done.
Moondae sighed.
There’s no end to the extremes with these brats.