OC Hangout: Summer Edition

So pretty omg

♪ ♬ "Oh darling, dance with me now, under the rain, under the dark rain clouds~"♪ ♬ ♡♡♡

(mas bet ko fil lyrics pero para inclusive sksks) ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE DONE TRAD SORI IF ITS WONKY WAHHHHHH ANYWAY YEH BEEN MEANING TO DO A SPY X FAM ARTWORK! and so i drew them insp of Binibini by Zack Tabudlo because A) this song is in my ship's playlist and a scenario where post-battle they just dance in the frikin rain TO THE POINT THAT ITS ANOTHER ANIMATIC I WANNA DO AHHHHH //dies and B) I WATCHED HIS GIG WITH MY SIS AND MANNNNN LIVE VOCALS!!! so YEH :DD ♡♡♡

ITS SO GOOD OMG

Xavier and James interactions are toppp

Seth’s is both terrifying gruesome but he has such a wholesome expression icant-😳😳

Also the angst for Max damn, Im with you bro I’ve been there

Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!

Here's some holiday sketches of the guys✨🎄

Tysm for tagging me! It was such a cool surprise! I honestly did not expect the bold protagonist lmao, I prefer npc's peaceful life haha

Tagging people

@hemlock-haven @comedi-anne @ghastaboo @venusararara @chill-pills-yandere-haven @ieirism @scarrypossmscribs @simpingseafood @merakiui @th0tbubble

this uquiz is so cool!!! n i want my moots to do it heheheh,,

tagging: @alexisomnias, @floraldresvi, @thenyxsky, @minenhis, @moral-laws, & anyone else who'd like 2 join!!

I wanna go to disneyland so bad

Im very rusty. Dont say anything about the eyes pls.

Nah but im ok with the drawing. Its cute. Not the best not the worst.I lied Im so unhappy with the eyes. God. Wtf is wrong with Eve's eyes. Wtf

Woah am I proyecting cuz I havent gone to disneyland? I would never!

Just Eve and Peony hanging around Disneyland

I love Peony so much. I feel like she would be fun to hang around.

Peony Hemlock-------> @hemlock-haven

Eve‐--------> @cloudishmagma

I wrote the maxtags wtf

chapter one ── pest control. the spider’s sense: a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb 𝑥 fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies

chapter summary. ┆ caleb's worst fear comes true when the two of you are assigned as lab partners, especially after your first experiment together goes horribly wrong in more ways than one.

series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

Most days in Linkon City begin with sirens.

Loud, blaring, unmistakable screeches that cut through the early morning quiet like a blade, carving their way through alleyways and avenues alike. They seep into walls, curl beneath locked doors, and coil around the restless minds of those who have long since stopped flinching at their call.

To them, the inhabitants of this city, it is nothing more than background noise—a city’s heartbeat, rhythmic and ceaseless. But to you, it is a warning. A sign that the world beyond the window of your dorm room is a battlefield, and you, a stranger in its midst, are only beginning to understand the rules of this strange place.

Perhaps, in time, you will grow desensitized as they have. Learn to sleep through the wailing cries, to walk these streets without the ever-present weight of caution pressing against your ribs. In a way, they forbade you from venturing out, instilling a fear within you that if you did, you would be the individual these melodies chased—or worse, the victim they had been called for in the first place. 

The entirety of the first semester has passed, and you haven’t even finished unpacking. Your suitcase remains half-full, a tangible reminder that you do not yet belong here. That you still have a choice—to do something before this place sinks its teeth into you, before you become just another soul who mistakes chaos for comfort.

But that choice is an illusion.

Here, people like you make no difference. You are not a hero, nor anything close to it. You are just a student who knows better, one who recognizes that the sirens will always be there, a requiem for the city’s unrest. And the crime will persist, as will the men in uniform who fail to stop it.

Somewhere beyond the blaring wails, beyond the tangled skyline and shadowed alleys, someone is fighting a battle you will never quite understand.

And for now, all you can do is listen.

Yet, in a way, you know that this was exactly where you wanted to be.

Despite its rapidly deteriorating surroundings, Linkon University remained a place of prestige. Young children dreamed of acceptance into its ranks, babbling to their parents about how they, too, would one day make these halls their stomping grounds. Maybe it was naivety that brought you here. Or maybe it was the last remnants of a dream that hadn’t yet died on your tongue.

Or perhaps, it was the medical journalism program—a rare gem, dwindling into obscurity at every other university.

You were lucky to be accepted. But humbly speaking, luck had very little to do with it. Your stats spoke for themselves: a 1540 SAT, a 4.98 weighted GPA, more extracurriculars than you could count on both hands. A smart cookie, as written in the shining letters of recommendation that paved your way here.

And yet, imposter syndrome festered like a quiet disease, creeping into the spaces between your confidence. You have spent your entire life at the top. Always number one.

Here? You were number two.

Number two to whom? You did not know. Not yet, anyway.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Caleb’s perfect life has unraveled in the span of a week and a half, but he positively swears it’s not his fault.

It’s yours.

Ten days ago, at precisely 12:57 PM, he endured the worst torment known to man: his seat in the lecture hall was stolen. A cruel move, truly. Class had been in session for four days, he’d claimed that seat twice—twice—and by the unspoken law of university students everywhere, that granted him full ownership. So why, then, were you sitting in his allotted property?

Looking back, Caleb sees only two possible explanations. The first: you had unknowingly taken the seat after enrolling just before the census date. The second: you were out to get him from the very start.

And personally? He’s convinced it’s the latter.

But alas, he hadn’t made a fuss about it then. It wasn’t like he’d just lost the single best seat in the entire hall—the one with perfect access to the exit, the projector, and the professor’s desk. But hey, he could be cool about this, right? Yeah… totally cool. So cool. The coolest.

Days passed, and everyone seemed to be settling into the spring semester just fine. The weather was getting warmer, flowers on the great lawn were blooming, and Caleb was thriving.

That was, until the unthinkable happened.

Time? 2:19 PM. Class? CHEM 001 AH. Location? The Grand Hall.

Caleb sat directly behind you, having resigned himself to the second best seat in the room, as the sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the otherwise quiet space.

Taking practice exams felt pointless. A waste of time, really. His efforts could be better spent elsewhere—like taking the real exam or absolutely demolishing his roommate Zayne in Apex Legends yet again. But instead, here he was, surrounded by classmates diligently scribbling away as the session inched closer to its eventual end.

And when it did, Caleb would have simply packed up and gone on his merry way—if not for the single most bone-chilling sentence he had ever heard in his entire academic career.

You were chatting with the girl beside you, talking about things he had zero interest in. Your shared biology class at 3 PM, your dorm building, plans to meet up at the dining hall later… blah blah blah. But then—an acronym. A single, horrific acronym triggered him like a sleeper agent.

“My GPA? Oh, it’s… 4.30. I think. To be honest, it’s been a while since I checked.”

His jaw went slack. His eyes widened. The color drained from his face.

A 4.30 GPA? No. No. That couldn’t be real. That could not be real.

But as his gaze flickered between the back of your head and your friend’s, he came to the most horrifying conclusion of all.

You weren’t lying. And if that were true… then that meant you had the same GPA he did.

Which meant that, depending on your course load and how well you performed, you could take his spot as number one in the class rank.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Caleb burst into his dorm room, slinging his backpack onto his mattress before face-planting into it with a sound somewhere between a groan and a hmph.

Across the room, Zayne didn’t even glance up from his desk, fingers tapping away at his mounted laptop. Click, clack. Click, clack. For a stretch of time, that was the only sound in the room—until he finally exhaled, the kind of quiet sigh that could only mean here we go again.

“Rough day?”

Caleb didn’t even hesitate. “The worst day.”

Zayne closed his eyes for a moment, like he was mentally preparing himself, before pushing away from his desk and turning his chair just enough to look at his roommate. “What happened?”

Still face-down on the bed, Caleb let out a long, exaggerated sigh—nowhere near as silent as Zayne’s. “I think I have to take trig next semester. Honors.”

That made Zayne pause. Brow quirked, he leaned back. “Why? Your counselor quite literally said you’re already on track to graduate with honors and as one of the top-ranked students in our year.”

That was the problem, though. Caleb wasn’t satisfied with being one of the best. He wanted to be the best—and now, that source of pride was under attack.

“Well, that was before I found out I’m sharing a GPA with some girl in my chem lecture,” he said, rolling onto his back to stare blankly at the ceiling. “Which means if I don’t get my shit together and pack on a few more honors courses, I’m cooked.”

Zayne laughed. Actually laughed. Shaking his head, he turned back to his desk, plucked his glasses off the mousepad, and slid them on. “You should hear yourself right now.”

Caleb’s head snapped to the side, eyebrows pinching together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just amusing, is all.” Zayne smirked. “I find it endearing that you, Mr. ‘I can skip the final and still pass with a 94%,’ Mr. ‘I think I might take astronomy honors for fun this semester,’—”

“All riiight, I get it,” Caleb cut in. “What’s your point?”

Zayne snickered, amused. “My point is that if you of all people feel threatened by a classmate you hardly know, maybe there’s a reason for that.”

Caleb hated that there was probably some truth to that. Not that he’d ever admit it. Being threatened by a classmate he barely knew? Please. He knew enough. (And yes, he had meticulously sifted through the entire roster of his chemistry class to stalk your Canvas profile. What? It’s… field research.)

“Y’know, you’re terrible at pep talks,” he muttered, folding his hands behind his head.

“I’m not trying to be,” Zayne replied easily. “But if you want my input—take the trig course next semester. Something tells me you’ll need it.”

Caleb rolled onto his side, fishing his laptop from his backpack as the weight of his evening workload settled in.

And maybe Zayne was right.

Maybe he would need all the help he could get.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

It wasn’t until six days later—today—that Caleb knew for certain fate was no longer on his side.

The professor’s voice cut through the shuffle of students packing up their belongings, all of which were currently praying that their first lab of the semester wouldn’t be a complete and utter disaster. It was a well known fact that Dr. Rappaccini was quite the harsh critic, and an even harsher grader. Her score on Rate My Professors was a whopping 2.8/5 for crying out loud.

“Alright, it’s time for you all to receive your lab partners for the semester. Before heading to the lab next door, please check the list of pairings at the front.”

Luckily, Caleb had committed the syllabus to memory and knew that each person was scored individually no matter how their partner performed, but it was recommended that the pair conduct their experiments together to save time and... okay, maybe he hadn’t memorized it as well as he thought, but at least he knew the core details, right?

Scanning the list, his blood ran cold. He squinted, hoping that the prescription of his glasses had failed him, but of course, it was unmistakable. Your name was printed next to his. Emboldened, unignorable, in a perfectly neutral 12 pt Times New Roman font.

The walk to the laboratory was a quiet one, and you were walking a few feet ahead of him without a care in the world. Reaching for the door handle, he twisted the metallic lever and gestured for you to enter ahead of him with a single nod of his head. It was a force of habit. He may not care for you as an academic peer, but you didn't directly wrong him in any way. Not knowingly, that is.

With a curt nod of your own and a sliver of a smile, you entered the class with a quiet “thank you.”

And before he could follow in step behind you, the neverending line of your fellow classmates began to flood into the room, leaving him to stand idle while offering each of them a thin-lipped smile. It felt like an eternity before he was able to step inside of the laboratory too, and his first instinct was to map out the classroom to find the best possible seating arrangement. 

To his surprise… you’d already claimed the most optimal lab station, and as he approached, you made the first move to speak. 

“I hope you’re okay with sitting here,” you say, fishing out your sleek notebook and a bright blue pencil. “It’s the only lab station with equal access to the exit, the supplies cabinet, and the professor’s desk.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as bewilderment etches into his features. Were you inside of his brain? He clears his throat, shaking away his confusion as he nods. “Yeah, I’m alright with this spot. Good choice.” 

Smiling, you nod too. “Cool.” 

A beat of silence passes, and you smooth your hands over the black resin material of the table, a movement that his eyes instinctively follow. Then, your hand raises and extends out to him, forcing him to blink himself out of his state of daydreaming. 

You say your name while tilting your head with a smile—this time, a smile with teeth—as you wait for his hand to take yours. “And you’re… Xia?” 

Raising his eyebrows, he shakes his head while a chuckle slips through his carefully crafted exterior. “Caleb,” he corrects, his firm grasp enveloping your hand as he gives it a shake. “Caleb Xia.”

“Ah, got it,” you remark, an epiphany dawning on you as you slip your hand from his hold. “Well, I’m going to go get our safety goggles.” 

But before leaving, you straightened, eyes glued to him—or rather, his head.

Huffing out a laugh through his nose, Caleb’s lip tugs up in the corner. “What are you doing?”

Tapping your chin, you sigh. “I’m trying to see if you have a big head. If you do, I’ll have to go fight tooth and nail for one of the ones with adjustable straps.” 

Rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm, he rests his elbow on the edge of the table before leaning his cheek into his hand. “Well, lay it on me. What’s your diagnosis?”

Humming, you tilt your head back and forth before nodding your head a single time. “Big-head syndrome. I’m positive.”

Caleb’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “I should take that as a compliment. Big head means big brain, you know.”

“Or a big ego,” you retort with a shrug, giving him a once-over with raised brows before whisking away towards the horde of students currently going to war over the remaining pick of the litter. 

Yeah, that too, he thinks. 

In your absence, he takes the liberty of prepping the lab for the both of you. Beakers? Check. Random substance that the two of you were going to be experimenting on? Check. Hydrochloric acid? Check. Sodium bicarbonate? Check—

“Safety goggles,” you state, plopping down on your stool and handing his pair to him.

Without missing a beat, he speaks. “Check.”

Drawing back slightly, you turn to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Uh… yeah. Check.”

Faltering, Caleb slides the item onto his face as he stammers through his words. “I was just… never mind, let’s start.”

The class had settled into a low hum—the murmur of newly paired partners, the scribbling of notes, the soft hiss of chemicals reacting. 

As the two of you began the experiment, an incredibly prominent conclusion dawned on him: Disliking you as a person wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped. As a competitor? You were treacherous. As a lab partner? You were… tolerable. Efficient. Annoyingly easy to work with. 

It wasn’t the end result that he was hoping for, if he were to be entirely honest with himself. He wanted you to be difficult to be around, he wanted you to be stuck up, he wanted you to give him a genuine reason to dislike you apart from being the root of his newfound insecurity. But you weren’t, and that was a problem. 

“Pass me the baking soda?” you ask.

“The sodium bicarbonate?”

“Yeah. The baking soda.”

Caleb tilts his head with a smile. “Also known as sodium bicarbonate.”

You glance his way, and your eyes met. “Congrats, big guy. You know big words. Now pass it.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Biting back a smile, he hands it over, only to retract it at the last second. “Wait. What’s it called again?”

Your force smile was all teeth. “Sodium bicarbonate.”

Finally relenting, Caleb places the bowl in your orbit with a triumphant grin. 

He was smart enough to know that this was a bad idea. Despite how easily the two of you worked together, he knew that he couldn’t entertain this any further. You weren’t just his classmate, his peer—you were his competition. And while he’s heard the saying keep your friends close, but your enemies closer just as many times as the next person, he knows that mixing any ounce of developing friendship with his pursuit for greatness would be wrong.

It would work best that way. You can’t be friends, and that’s okay.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, fate seemed to agree with him.

“Hmm,” Caleb soon rumbles, squinting at the beaker. “This isn’t lookin’ too good. You said you added the sodium bicarbonate, yeah?”

You frown, glancing up from your notes. Your stomach twists at the sight of the clock—barely any time left before the lab ends. The professor would be making her rounds any second now.

“What? I didn’t add it. You said you added it.”

Caleb flits his gaze to the side of your face. “No, I added hydrochloric acid.”

Your head snaps toward him so fast he was surprised it didn’t snap right off. “No, I added hydrochloric acid.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

You exhale sharply, frustration creeping up your neck. “How are you gonna tell me what I did or didn’t do?”

Your pulse ticks up a bit faster than it naturally should, and your eyes rose up from the glass cylinder. Around the room, students were already wrapping up their conclusions while the two of you hadn’t even finished the experiment. You suck in a breath and push up from your stool.

“Fine. Fine. Can you just pass me the baking soda?”

Caleb nods, handing over the pre-measured bowl of sodium bicarbonate. While you worked to fix the mess, he jotted down a few quick notes. You added just enough of the powder to neutralize the acid—but not smother it completely.

And then? Silence. The two of you sat. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Praying.

Then, miraculously, the beaker decided to behave and the fizzing subsided.

Like clockwork, you both exhaled, shoulders slumping as small, victorious smiles tugged at your mouths—

Until yours vanished entirely. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Caleb falters, eyes narrowing. “I didn’t say thank you.”

“Well, you should have.”

“Why? If I hadn’t pointed out the weird reaction, we’d have been screwed.”

“Oh? If I hadn’t realized neither of us added the sodium bicarbonate—which was your responsibility, by the way—we would’ve actually been screwed.”

Tension thickened between you like a drawn bowstring. You clench your jaw and look away, scribbling down your final observations. Stupid man, you thought to yourself. And here you were, actually believing that this semester wouldn’t be a total shitshow, that maybe, just maybe, you’d gotten lucky.

Unfortunately not.

Then, your attention was caught by something out of the ordinary. Your gaze lands on his neck, and your breath hitched. Staring back at you was a small, multi-legged beady eyed monster. Sticking out your pointer finger, you still find yourself instinctively drawing back, as if it were out to get you next. “There’s a spider on—”

But before you could finish your sentence, Caleb winced, his veins tightening as he instinctively flicked the eight-legged menace off. You sucked your teeth, drumming your fingers on the table. So much for your timely warning.

Glancing his way, your brows elevate as you see the already forming bite mark on his neck. “Yikes. It got you good.”

“Did it?” he asks, raising a hand to rub over the mark with narrowed eyes. “Hm. Guess so, yeah.”

Reluctantly, you ask, “Are you okay?” 

With a nod, he picks up his pencil once more and works on finishing the last of his lab report. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sighing airily, you can’t help the smile that tugs on your mouth. “Poor spider, being flicked through the air like that.”

Like routine, Caleb shot a glare your way. “Funny.”

“Thanks.”

With that, you left for the washing station. Meanwhile, Dr. Rappaccini stood from her desk, making her rounds. It was in that moment that a shrill of panic shot up his spine—the stimulation foreign, unfamiliar, and… terrifying. 

He could feel his heart rate shooting through the roof, a sweat break on his forehead, and his fingertips flex at his sides—all things that he wasn’t even conscious of. And before he knew it, he was glancing in your direction, noting that you were distracted. Good.

With a quick ease, he snatched up your notepad and erased a few numbers, replacing them with subtle, logicless mistakes. 34? Now a 26. 32 to the power of 5? Not anymore.

It wasn’t his proudest moment. Sabotaging his own lab partner’s work? Definitely not.

Ten seconds. That’s all it took to ruin you just enough. He slid the notepad back into place, brushing away the eraser shavings. Like clockwork, you returned, none the wiser.

Exhaling softly, you turned to him. “Look, I just wanted to say that—”

“Now, you two,” Dr. Rappaccini’s voice cut you off.

You both turned as she scanned and picked up Caleb’s report, making a few marks with her fine-pointed marker before sliding it back into place. You glanced over, making note of his grade. 94.

Then, she picked up yours. A moment later, she handed it back. Your professor held up a roll of stickers, tearing two off before setting them down on the table.

Despite the vibrant designs on the stickers, your stomach dropped. Your grade was big, bold, and unmistakable. 82.

“Wait—Dr. Rappaccini,” you call after her, staring at the page with widened eyes of shock. “I… I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”

“Well, your experiment was solid—your observations were well-written, and your documentation was precise. But your math?” She sighs. “Completely off.” A beat of silence. Then, a smile. “Don’t feel discouraged. You’re a good student as you are—no need to compare your scores to others.”

The implication was clear. She thought you were smart—just not as smart as Caleb.

Huffing, you toss your notebook onto the table, fingers curling against the edge of it.

“You got cut off earlier,” he says casually, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “What were you sayin’?”

Blinking, you tried to retrace your thoughts. “Oh, yeah… I was just saying that…”

Your voice trails, eyes drifting to your lab report. Caleb caught the flicker of realization dawning on you—and when you turned to him, his not-so-hidden grin said it all.

“I was just saying,” you snap, “that you’re an asshole whose handwriting looks like a drunk chicken clawed at my report.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he says with a shrug, peeling off his sticker to plaster it onto your shoulder. “Good luck on the exam tomorrow morning.”

And with that, he walks out of the lab.

“Yeah, you too,” you murmur, though he was already gone before he could hear the hissed “bitch” that followed.

Irritation pricks at your skin as you stuff—more like shove—your belongings into your backpack. Prick. So much for not knowing the single person you were beneath in the class ranks.

Guilt stirred in his chest as he walked towards his dorm building… but only a little.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

By the time Caleb stumbled back to his dorm, he felt like he’d been hit by a freight train.

He barely managed to push the door open before kicking off his shoes, letting his backpack slump to the floor with a heavy thud. His head swam, his breath uneven as he widened his eyes in a feeble attempt to stay awake. Slapping himself on the cheek, he quickly realized it was no use. His neck stung worse than it had when the spider first bit him, the dull throb pulsing beneath his fingertips as he rubbed over the puncture point.

"Are you drunk?" Zayne’s voice drifts from across the room.

"No," Caleb mutters, face buried in his pillow. "Just… tired. Really tired."

He sank into the thin mattress like dead weight, the springs groaning beneath him. With sluggish hands, he pulled his glasses from his face and tossed them onto the bedside table, missing by an inch. His breathing grew heavier, his skin slick with cold sweat. His pupils—blown wide as saucers—fluttered shut as he barely mustered the strength to tug his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

And within seconds, he was out like a light.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The morning sun sliced through the blinds, painting golden stripes across Caleb’s bare back as he jolted awake.

His chest rose and fell in sharp, erratic breaths, but despite the abruptness of it all, he felt… alert. Fully awake in a way that didn’t exactly make sense.

Blinking rapidly, he reached for his glasses and slid them onto his face with a groggy groan. And then—he froze.

His vision was still blurry.

Frowning, he pulled his glasses off, breathed onto the lenses, and wiped them against his bedsheet. When he slid them back on—blurry again. He pulled them down. Clear. Glasses up. Blurry. Glasses down. Clear.

He stares at them in his hands. “...Weird.”

Setting the frames down, he threw his legs over the bed and staggered toward his closet—only to catch sight of his reflection in the mirror. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

Since when the hell did he have abs?

He flexed instinctively, stomach tensing under his own scrutiny. Then his gaze trailed up—to his arms. His biceps. His shoulders.

Turning, twisting, he inspected every angle of himself like a stranger in his own skin. He’d been in shape before, sure, but this? This was different. He would’ve noticed this.

Knuckles rapped against the door, making him flinch.

“Caleb? Are you awake? I forgot my key.” A pause. Then, “Are you feeling any better? You slept like a log last night—perhaps you’re catching a bug.”

"A bug?" Caleb echoes under his breath, flexing again just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Holy shit… Uh, yeah, man, I’m good. Just—gimme a sec.”

Turning back toward his desk, he reached for his chair, only meaning to push it aside—but the moment his palm touched the wood, it stuck.

His brows furrow.

He yanks once. Then again.

Nothing.

His heartbeat quickens as he curls his fingers, attempting to lift his hand—and instead, he lifts the entire chair clean off the ground.

“What the—” His stomach drops. He waved his hand. The chair waved with it. Up. Down. Side to side. Still stuck.

“Caleb?” Zayne calls from the other side of the door.

Caleb whips his head toward the sound, panic tightening in his throat. Shit. He bolted across the room—chair still attached to his palm—and somehow managed to unlock the door just as Zayne strode in.

Zayne, clearly in a rush, barely spared him a glance as he grabbed a stack of papers from his desk, clipped them together, and breezed back out with a nod.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Caleb exhaled sharply—only to realize his hand was still stuck… to the doorknob.

Huffing, he gave it a firm tug, expecting it to pop free. Instead, the entire knob wrenched out of the door, hinges snapping with a loud crack.

"Shit."

He barely had time to process before his body betrayed him once again—this time, with a sharp thwip.

A thick strand of silk shot from his wrist, attaching him to his bedpost.

His pulse stuttered. 

"What. The. Fuck."

Another sharp tug. Another web. More panic. Before he knew it, his dorm room looked like a crime scene from some horror movie—threads of silk stretching from walls to furniture to the ceiling.

His gaze snapped to the clock on his desk. 12:56 PM.

"Alright," he mutters, inhaling deeply. "Exam starts in four minutes. I’m sticking to everything I touch. I’m half-naked. Cool, cool, cool."

But nothing about this was cool.

If anyone in the history of Linkon University could take an exam like this, it was going to be him.

series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

a/n like & reblog if you enjoyed!! this was really fun to write :) also i should’ve mentioned it rly isnt specified how old reader is, just that she’s in college and just starting her second semester at linkon university :) she can be a transfer student (which is kinda what i had in mind), a first year, etc lol it doesn’t really matter bc i’m fine with that being a “plot hole”

i could not stop laughing while writing this at 4am bc i was just imagining caleb coming up with an elaborate ass internalized beef with reader and she’s just sitting in her chem lab like

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PLEASE IM BEGGING LIKE THE BIGGEST BEGGAR IN THE WORLD DO A DAN HENG LUCKY EGG FIC( Unless you don’t want to!)

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Dan Heng x Reader

You didn’t expect much when you got the egg. Sure, it looked a little different compared to normal eggs people got, but that was normal, right?

For the next three days, you never let it out of your sight. And then, the feeling of being watched started. At first, you thought it was your imagination. By the third day, your unease had turned into a quiet, gnawing dread.

That night, as you walked home with the egg cradled against your chest, a shadow moved.

Before you could react, a figure lunged from the darkness. A hand snatched at the egg.

"Hand it over!"

Instinctively, you held it tighter. "No."

"Then I'll just have to take it myself."

A flash of silver—a weapon.

You barely had time to flinch before-

Crack

A burst of blinding teal light exploded from the egg, knocking the intruder back. The warmth in your arms vanished as something took its place.

A young man now stood before you. Dark, messy hair, his expression calm but unreadable. He stepped in front of you, placing himself between you and the attacker.

"Step away from them."

The assailant cursed under their breath before lunging again.

With startling speed, the man deflected the strike, the enemy barely had time to react before he countered, sending them stumbling back. Realizing the fight was unwinnable, they vanished into the night.

You clutched the empty eggshell, heart hammering, struggling to process what just happened.

The young man turned, his gaze scanning you carefully.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head slowly.

“…Good.”

But before you could even think of a response, a sudden force yanked at your chest.

A sharp, invisible pull tightened between you and Dan Heng-his name suddenly came to you, an unnatural bond snapping into place. You weren’t the only one who felt it, Dan Heng’s hand clenched into a fist, his brows furrowing as if testing something unseen.

“…It seems we are bound together.”

“What?”

Dan Heng’s words settled heavily between you.

You stared at him. “What do you mean… bound?”

Dan Heng’s expression was unreadable as he lifted his hand, fingers flexing slightly—as if testing the invisible force between you.

“I can feel it” he murmured. “A connection.” His sharp eyes flickered to you. “And so can you.”

Now that he mentioned it…

There was something tugging at your chest. A strange, lingering warmth linking you to him, like a thin, invisible thread pulling taut whenever you moved too far away.

“What the hell is this?” You instinctively took a step back.

Dan Heng didn’t stop you—he didn’t need to. The moment you moved too far, a dull ache formed at your core, forcing you to halt.

Dan Heng’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t let us separate.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the unease creeping up your spine. “Is this… because of the egg?”

“Most likely.” Dan Heng let out a slow exhale, his voice calm despite the situation. “Something unnatural happened when I hatched.”

No kidding.

You clenched the broken remnants of the egg in your hands, staring at the glowing fragments. This wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.

Dan Heng studied you carefully. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “Not really… Just weird.”

He nodded. “Then we should find out how to undo it.”

Right. That made sense.

You didn’t know Dan Heng, and he didn’t know you. Staying attached like this wasn’t ideal for either of you.

But before you could say anything else, that feeling of being watched returned.

Your body tensed. “They’re still here.”

Dan Heng was already looking past you. He was silent for a moment before speaking again, voice lower this time.

“Come with me.”

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. The two of you disappeared into the night.

The inn was quiet, tucked away in an alley far from prying eyes. It wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it would do for the night.

Dan Heng took a seat on the small wooden chair in the corner, silent as he assessed the room. You, on the other hand, dropped onto the bed, exhausted from the night’s chaos.

“…I’ll bathe first” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

Dan Heng nodded, offering no objections. He was still tense, likely on alert in case your pursuer returned.

Steam curled from the bathroom as you let the hot water wash away the tension in your body. By the time you emerged, towel-drying your hair, you noticed something was different.

That strange, invisible pull? Gone.

You tested it cautiously, taking a few steps away from Dan Heng. No resistance. No ache. Nothing.

Dan Heng must have felt it too. He lifted a brow. “It’s gone.”

You nodded, unsure whether to feel relieved or concerned. Why had it disappeared so suddenly?

Dan Heng stood, “I’ll bathe next.”

You collapsed onto the bed. The momentary separation felt… odd. But you brushed it aside.

When Dan Heng returned, hair damp and sleeves rolled up as he towel-dried it, you caught sight of a faint scratch on his forearm.

“Did you get that earlier?” you asked.

He followed your gaze, barely sparing it a glance. “It’s nothing.”

“Still.” You grabbed a small first-aid kit from the bedside drawer. “Let me see.”

Dan Heng didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you either.

You carefully cleaned the scratch, applying a light bandage. “There. Should be fine now.”

Dan Heng watched your hands for a second before meeting your eyes. “…Thank you.”

You blinked. He was so stoic most of the time that the simple gratitude caught you off guard.

“Yeah, well.” You leaned back. “It’d be a pain if you got sick over something so small.”

Dan Heng huffed lightly, almost amused.

The atmosphere felt… more comfortable now.

For the first time since this night started, you didn’t feel like strangers.

The inn had only one bed. You figured Dan Heng wouldn’t mind sharing—after all, he had just saved your life.

But as expected, the moment you suggested it, he refused.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” he said simply, already grabbing a spare pillow.

You rolled your eyes. “You just fought someone, ran through half a forest, and got scratched up in the process. You need the bed.”

With an exasperated sigh, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in.

Dan Heng stiffened at the sudden touch, but you didn’t let go. “Just sleep. I don’t mind.”

Ultimately, he relented, slipping under the blanket beside you—though he kept a noticeable distance.

You didn’t push it. Exhaustion weighed on you like a stone, and before you knew it, sleep took over.

A faint creak of the floor. The softest rustle of fabric.

Dan Heng’s eyes snapped open.

Intruders.

Before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth, and a sharp pressure point strike numbed his limbs.

His vision blurred for a split second, but his focus remained sharp. They had waited until you were deep in sleep, ensuring you wouldn’t wake no matter what.

Dan Heng struggled, but his body refused to cooperate. He was lifted and carried away, the door closing behind them without a sound.

And you?

Still asleep, blissfully unaware.

You woke up to emptiness. The bed beside you was cold. The blanket was untouched, and Dan Heng was gone.

You knew something was wrong. You could feel it—not just instinctively, but physically. A sharp pull, like an invisible string tugging at your very core. It yanked you forward, as if guiding you somewhere.

Without hesitation, you threw on your shoes and bolted out of the inn.

Your feet led you through winding streets, across empty alleyways, and towards an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The closer you got, the more intense the feeling became.

When you reached the entrance, muffled voices reached your ears.

“…We know you came from the egg.”

Then, a sharp sound—a syringe being pressed into skin.

Dan Heng let out a strained breath. His usual composed presence was cracking. You peered through a small opening. He was tied to a chair, his head lowered, his breath uneven. His body trembled, muscles twitching unnaturally. Whatever they had injected him with, it was forcing a reaction out of him.

One of the men stepped closer. "If you won't talk, we'll just—"

With the element of surprise on your side, you grabbed the nearest metal rod and slammed it into the first guy’s head. He crumpled instantly. The second turned, but you had already kicked him square in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. You twisted the third man's arm back and sent him crashing into the interrogation table.

Three down.

Your chest heaved, adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. Then, you turned to Dan Heng.

His head was still lowered, his fingers curled tightly into fists. His breathing had grown heavier—not from exhaustion, but from something else.

You approached carefully. “Dan Heng…?”

A tremor ran through his body. Slowly, he lifted his head.

And his eyes— Not the calm, reserved gaze you knew.

The moment your eyes met, you knew this wasn’t Dan Heng.

His usually composed expression was gone, replaced by something feral. His chest heaved, his muscles tensed, and the eerie glow of his newly-formed horns cast an unnatural light against the dim room.

Then, he lunged. You barely managed to dodge in time. His fingers grazed your shoulder, sharp nails cutting through fabric. He wasn’t holding back.

"Dan Heng, snap out of it!" you shouted, ducking under his next strike.

But there was no response.

His attacks were relentless, each blow precise, deadly.

Your back hit the wall.

His hand shot out, aiming straight for your throat.

And in that moment, his body gave out.

Dan Heng collapsed right in front of you.

The tension in the air vanished. His breath came in sharp gasps, his body still trembling from whatever those men had done to him.

You didn’t waste time.

You dragged him home.

A day passed.

You sat beside his unconscious form, watching for any sign of change. The bond between you had flickered—then disappeared entirely.

And his body…

His features were different now.

His ears— sharper, more elongated. His horns— translucent green, curling back in the shape of a dragon’s. Whoever those men were, they must have known. They were after Dan Heng’s power.

When he finally woke up, his body tensed immediately. His gaze landed on you, and for a moment, you feared he’d attack again.

Then, slowly, his breathing steadied.

“…You are alive.” His voice was hoarse.

“Of course I did.” You frowned. “Though you almost killed me, you know that?”

“…I know.” His fingers curled into the sheets. “And yet, you didn’t leave.”

“You can explain later.”

You reached out carefully, brushing his bangs back to check for a fever. His new horns brushed against your wrist.

For now, you’d both deal with the consequences together.

Dan Heng sat on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly brushing against one of his newly-formed horns. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders was clear.

You crossed your arms, staring at him. "Why did you turn into...that?"

He glanced up at you, his sharp blue-green eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don’t know."

Most of his human form had returned, but some of the dragon-like features remained. His elongated ears, his translucent green horns… they were all still there.

He looked down at his own hands. "I shouldn’t have changed in the first place. I was… altered."

"Well, you came from the egg I got, so that makes you my responsibility."

"You say that so easily."

"Because it’s the truth," you shot back. "You’re new to life here, right? You don’t even know how things work. If I leave you alone, you might get kidnapped again."

He couldn’t argue with that.

"Come on. You need to learn how to live like a normal person."

“…You’re seriously taking this upon yourself?"

"Obviously. If I don’t, who will?" You raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd rather run around in the open and get captured again?"

“…Very well. I’ll leave myself in your care.”

For now, you’d carry on.

At first, you didn’t think much of it.

Dan Heng adjusted quickly to life here, following your instructions without complaint. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he listened, observed, and adapted well.

And then… you started noticing something strange.

One morning, as he sat at the small dining table, sipping the tea you made, you caught something in your peripheral vision—his horns were fading.

You blinked. Was it a trick of the light?

But then later that day, after you dragged him to the market (much to his dismay), his horns reappeared. His sharp ears elongated again, and—most alarming of all—he briefly grew a tail.

You nearly choked on air when you saw it.

Luckily, it vanished quickly, but you had seen it.

"Dan Heng" you called, suspicious.

He looked at you, unfazed. "What?"

You squinted. "…Are you aware that you’re…changing?"

He froze for a fraction of a second, but that was enough confirmation.

You crossed your arms. "Your horns. Your ears. A tail, Dan Heng. What’s causing it?"

His eyes flickered downward. A thoughtful silence stretched between you before he finally admitted, "I don't know. But…" his gaze met yours again, "It only seems to happen when I feel… displeased."

You stared at him. "So you're telling me… the more annoyed you get, the more dragon-like you become?"

He nodded.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Great. So I just have to keep you happy or else you’ll start sprouting more parts?"

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his expression shifted—just slightly. His usual calm mask gave way to something more… pleased.

And in that moment, his horns… faded.

Wait a damn minute.

Your eyes narrowed. "…You like hearing that, don’t you?"

Dan Heng tilted his head, feigning innocence

You had a feeling this was going to be a huge problem.

You weren’t one to leave things unexplored—especially not something this bizarre.

So naturally, you had to test it out.

Test #1: Jealousy

Dan Heng rarely reacted strongly to anything. He was composed, observant, and rarely raised his voice. But you needed to see if strong emotions—specifically negative ones—would bring his features back.

So, you made him jealous.

It was subtle at first. A passing remark about someone at the market being “pretty nice.” An offhand comment about how they “seemed dependable.”

Dan Heng didn’t react outwardly.

But when you jokingly mentioned that someone offered to “show you around sometime,” his sharp ears reappeared.

You almost dropped what you were holding.

Dan Heng noticed too. He frowned, touching his ear. “That’s—”

Gotcha.

“Relax," you waved a hand, feigning innocence. "I was just talking."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. But after a long, assessing look, his ears faded again.

Test #2: Comfort

Later that evening, after he bathed, you casually offered, "Want me to dry your hair?"

"That’s unnecessary—"

"Sit!" you ordered, grabbing a towel.

Dan Heng hesitated but complied.

You gently ruffled the towel through his damp hair, fingers lightly brushing his scalp. You expected him to tense—but to your surprise, he relaxed almost instantly.

And then, in real time, his horns disappeared.

"Something wrong?" he murmured, his voice oddly softer than usual.

You exhaled. "…No."

But internally, you were screaming.

Test #3: Annoyance

The next day, he accidentally broke your favorite dish.

It wasn’t his fault—it slipped from the counter. But you sighed dramatically and gave him a look of disappointment.

Dan Heng immediately grew a tail.

The absolute panic on his face made you bite back laughter. He glared at you, realizing what was happening.

"You’re doing this on purpose" he accused.

"Me?" You blinked innocently. "Never."

He narrowed his eyes. But his tail disappeared soon after.

Final Test: Sleeping Together

One night, as you prepared for bed, you hesitated before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you to sleep?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer right away. But after a long moment, he nodded.

You took it as permission and settled beside him, arms loosely wrapping around his waist. His body was warm—steady. For once, he wasn’t tense.

And then—

His dragon features faded entirely.

Dan Heng noticed immediately. “What?”

You pulled back slightly, staring at him. "You're… normal again."

His breath hitched slightly. He glanced down at himself—his hands, his reflection in the dim window. His horns, ears, tail—all gone.

Silence filled the room.

Then, in a low voice, he muttered, “…So I need you close to stay like this?”

That might be a problem. But you are still testing it out.

----

You’d caught Dan Heng using his water manipulation abilities more than once.

At first, it was small things—drying dishes without a towel, cooling his tea without ice, sneaking a splash into his bath without touching the faucet.

But then, he started abusing it.

One evening, you walked into the living room only to see the floor miraculously cleaning itself. A thin layer of water swept across the wooden panels, neatly gathering dust into a single puddle before disappearing entirely.

Dan Heng stood nearby, looking completely indifferent—as if he hadn’t just commanded the water like a personal cleaning tool.

You folded your arms. “Really?”

He didn’t even flinch. “It’s efficient.”

You squinted. “It’s lazy.”

He turned his head slightly, not denying it.

After that, he got sneakier. Whenever you weren’t looking, something would conveniently be cleaned, cooled, or wiped away.

You caught him again a few days later. This time, he vanished the evidence before you could properly scold him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said flatly, even as the faintest ripple of water shimmered at his fingertips.

----

One day, you brought two friends home.

Caiyu—a friendly, outgoing woman with a sharp tongue, and Ren—a male friend who was, in your opinion, just a little too clingy.

Dan Heng immediately did not like him.

At first, he was quiet. Watching from the side. But every time Ren leaned in—too close, too casual—Dan Heng’s brows furrowed just a little deeper.

Then, one moment, Ren reached out, casually touching your shoulder. Not anything inappropriate—just a familiar gesture.

A chill ran through the air. Your tea, which had been warm seconds ago, suddenly turned ice cold.

You paused, frowning at the cup. “Huh…?”

Caiyu looked between you and Dan Heng, her eyes narrowing.

Ren, completely oblivious, continued talking.

Dan Heng didn’t say a word. But the next time Ren got too close, the humidity in the room mysteriously spiked.

Ren tugged at his collar. “Why is it so stuffy in here all of a sudden…?”

Caiyu, still watching, slowly smirked. “Oh, I think I know why.”

You, still oblivious, just nodded. “Yeah, weird weather today.”

Dan Heng, standing nearby, simply took a sip of his still-hot tea.

After Caiyu and Ren left, you finally turned your attention back to Dan Heng—only to pause.

The horns were back.

Sharp, translucent green, curling from his head like some majestic beast of legend. His ears had sharpened too, and there was something… tense about his posture.

“…You good?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately.

“Do you always let others cling to you like that?”

“…Huh?”

“Ren.”

“What about him?”

Dan Heng exhaled slowly, as if holding something back.

You, still completely clueless, smirked. “What, are you jealous?”

That was meant to be a joke. But the way Dan Heng didn’t immediately deny it made your smirk waver.

…Wait.

Before you could press the topic further, a sudden movement caught your eye.

A cockroach.

Right there. On the floor. Near your foot.

“—GAH?!”

Panic shot through you instantly. Without thinking, you jumped onto Dan Heng, clinging to him with zero shame.

“GET RID OF IT!!!!!!” you yelped, burying your face into his shoulder.

You didn’t notice his reaction, too busy clutching onto him like your life depended on it. “Dan Heng, I swear to everything, if you let that thing crawl near me—”

He finally spoke. “…I will. On one condition.”

Your head snapped up. “What? What condition?”

Dan Heng’s gaze was unreadable, but his horns shimmered slightly under the light. His fingers ghosted over your back before settling at your waist.

“Stay like this a little longer.”

“…Excuse me?”

Dan Heng’s hold on you was firm but not forceful, his fingers pressing lightly at your waist like he was testing something. Meanwhile, the cockroach was still there.

“You heard me.” His voice was impossibly calm, but there was something else in it—something almost amused. “I’ll get rid of it. But you stay like this a little longer.”

You were about to argue, to call him out for using a life-threatening situation to his advantage—

Then the cockroach moved.

“…Fine.” You clung onto him harder, burying your face into his shoulder with zero dignity. “Just get rid of it already.”

Dan Heng exhaled, the sound low and satisfied. Then, with a simple flick of his fingers, a small stream of water shot toward the cockroach—blasting it out of sight.

You peeked out. “Did you drown it?”

“Something like that.”

“…Good enough.”

Now that the danger was gone, you relaxed—but for some reason, you didn’t pull away.

Dan Heng seemed to notice. “You’re still holding onto me.”

“…Shut up. I’m recovering.”

His chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle.

And that was when you finally realized the horns were gone. His dragon features had completely disappeared.

“…Wait.” You leaned back slightly, inspecting his now normal face. “Did they—disappear because of this?”

“Maybe.”

Something told you… he wouldn’t mind testing it out again.

---

The search for answers had been fruitless.

You had dragged Dan Heng to healers, scholars, and even underground doctors—yet not one of them could determine what that liquid was or why his dragon features kept appearing whenever he was displeased.

And so, when you heard whispers of a secret bidding event known to deal in rare, illicit goods, you knew it was your best shot.

Disguised in ordinary robes and masks, you and Dan Heng snuck into the venue—a dimly lit hall, buzzing with the low murmur of eager bidders. Items were displayed one by one on a grand stage, and men in luxurious garments raised their hands with absurdly high offers.

It was a strange, unsettling place.

And then—

You saw it. On the display, contained within a reinforced glass case, was a small vial. The liquid inside gleamed with an eerily familiar glow.

“That’s it!” you muttered. “That has to be what they injected into you.”

Dan Heng's gaze was locked onto the vial, his jaw tightening. You knew he recognized it too.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the hall.

"A special concoction from an unknown source. Its properties? A mystery! But I assure you, its effects are... fascinating. Let’s start the bidding!"

The first bid came instantly.

“300,000 credits!”

Your stomach dropped.

That was way too much.

Dan Heng turned to you, voice low. “How do you want to handle this?”

You already knew the answer.

You weren’t leaving without that vial.

There was no way you could win a bidding war against the wealthy elites here. The price was already skyrocketing, and you didn’t have that kind of money.

You turned to Dan Heng. “We’re stealing it.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I figured.”

The auction continued, the price climbing higher and higher, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Instead, you were scanning the room, noting the positions of guards, escape routes, and blind spots.

One of you would create a distraction. The other would take the vial.

“Let me handle the distraction” Dan Heng murmured. “I can draw them away without getting caught.”

You weren’t sure about that.

He was strong, yes. But the whole reason you were here was to fix his condition—not make it worse.

“No” you decided. “I’ll do it. You grab the vial.”

Dan Heng’s brows furrowed, but before he could argue, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down.

“Sold for 850,000 credits!”

You inhaled sharply. It was time.

The moment the winner stepped forward to claim the vial, you moved. With a quick motion, you reached into your sleeve and tossed a smoke bomb onto the stage—

People shouted, some scrambling away while others drew their weapons. The guards rushed in, pushing through the panicked crowd

And in the cover of the smoke, Dan Heng struck.

By the time the haze began to clear, he was already at your side, the vial secured in his grip.

“We need to go.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the nearest exit.

Guards were closing in.

But you weren’t worried.

You had what you came for.

Now, you just had to get out alive.

---

Pain.

That was the first thing you felt when consciousness returned.

Your entire body ached, and every breath felt like it scraped against raw wounds. You groaned, trying to move—

Only to feel a strong grip on your wrist.

Dan Heng was at your bedside, his expression eerily blank. But his eyes—his eyes told another story.

Shock. Relief. Unfiltered rage.

For the first time, you saw green scales creeping across his face. They shimmered under the dim light, spreading like cracks in a fragile mask. His normally sharp features were even sharper, his dragon-like horns fully visible.

“I thought you were dead.”

You blinked, still disoriented. “How long was I out?”

“Five days.”

Something had happened while you were unconscious.

Your surroundings were unfamiliar, but the faint smell of blood and burnt metal lingered in the air. Your wounds were bandaged, but you could tell the medical supplies used were not from a standard clinic.

“…Dan Heng. What did you do?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tightened around your wrist, as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“I lost control.”

You knew what that meant.

The people from the auction house—the guards, the bidders—none of them stood a chance.

You had seen glimpses of his power before. But this?

This was different.

You reached up, your fingers grazing the scales on his cheek. He stiffened under your touch, but didn’t pull away.

“…I’m still here” you said softly.

“I thought I lost you. You don’t understand—I would’ve destroyed everything. I would’ve—”

You pressed a hand over his, grounding him.

“You didn’t.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened slightly. His features, still twisted with emotions, slowly softened.

For a long moment, he simply stared at you. Then, as if needing further confirmation that you were alive, he pulled you into his arms.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his body trembling ever so slightly.

“…Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t.”

You shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to adjust to the strange sensation against your skin. His scales pressed against your cheek as he held you even tighter.

"Dan Heng" you muttered, half-jokingly, "your scales are poking me."

To your surprise, he tightened his grip. His arms caged you in, his warm breath fanning against your neck.

“…Then endure it.”

His voice was quiet, almost sulky.

You sighed, but didn't protest. And soon enough—the sensation disappeared.

You pulled back slightly, noticing his features softening. His scales had faded away, his horns receding as if they’d never been there.

You blinked. So it really was connected to his emotions.

Still, you needed answers.

Later that day, you took a small sample of his scales—without him noticing—and sent it to a trusted friend in the field of alchemy and medicine.

The response came quickly: an antidote was possible.

But when you brought it up to Dan Heng—

"I don’t want it."

"You don’t even know what it does."

His gaze was steady. "It doesn’t matter. Everything as it is… is fine."

You felt the weight in his words. He wasn’t just talking about the scales—he was talking about you, about this, about the bond you both shared.

And as if the universe had heard him, the bond reappeared.

A faint glow flickered between you both—unseen by your eyes, but deeply felt.

Dan Heng dragged you into the kitchen, his grip firm yet careful.

“You need a proper meal” he said, his voice carrying no room for argument.

You sighed but let him. Things were tricky now—you couldn't stray too far from each other. If you did, the bond would start pulling you back, an invisible force tethering you together.

---

A group of strangers approached you outside, eyes filled with intentions you didn’t like. Dan Heng acted before you could, sending them flying with a single strike.

And just like that—the bond disappeared again.

You didn’t know what to make of it, but Dan Heng did.

That night, when you were fast asleep, he moved silently.

In his hand was a small vial—one he had secretly extracted from himself. With quiet precision, he used it on you.

Would you become like him? Would you be changed as he was?

He needed to know.

Nothing happened.

At least, not immediately.

Dan Heng watched you carefully the next day, but you looked fine. No horns, no scales, no tail. You were just... you.

Maybe it was different because of his origin. Maybe his bloodline couldn’t fully transfer to you. Or maybe it needed more time.

But one thing did change. You recovered unnaturally fast. The injuries that should’ve taken weeks to heal were already fading. And there was a downside—your temper.

You found yourself easily irritated, snapping at things you wouldn’t normally care about. The effect wore off soon, but Dan Heng took note of it.

Then, you felt it.

The slightest change.

Your ears—it was faint, but they weren’t the same. They twitched, sharper than before, more sensitive to sound.

No horns, no scales, but... you were just like him now.

And, of course—you would never know it was his doing.

Dan Heng watched as you slept, your breathing steady, your body finally adjusting.

It had taken time. More than he expected. The first dose had only changed your ears, but that wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

So he spent weeks—studying, gathering, experimenting.

And finally, he succeeded.

The last vial, carefully prepared, had worked exactly as he intended.

Your body had accepted it. Your features had shifted—not just the ears this time.

Under the moonlight, faint scales shimmered on your skin. Not as prominent as his, but there. A part of you now.

And with that change, the bond solidified.

No longer a fragile link. No longer something that could fade.

It was permanent.

Dan Heng exhaled, letting the weight of it settle in his chest. This was what he wanted. For you to be the same.

For you to never be able to leave.

And when your eyes fluttered open, you felt it too.

The connection. Stronger than ever. Binding you to him in ways you couldn’t yet understand.

Dan Heng offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his sharp, knowing gaze.

“Good morning.” he murmured.

You are his now.

Scars ~ BLD Mini-Fic

[SPOILER WARNING FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T READ ANYTHING ON THE BLOG]

content warnings: tw scars, tw abuse (could be interpreted that way) tw self harm (tried to make it ambigious to fit with whatever oc you imagine to be in this fic) tw bad accidents (could also be interpreted this way) (Y/n in this has scars)

While this mini-fic doesnt have any NSFW things, this fandom is still heavily 18+. Please respect the author's wishes and DNI.

You yawned, the early morning sun and subtly refreshing breeze filling you with a sense of calm. It was so rare to have a perfectly nice day to enjoy. Work taking up a lot of your life, now that you'd moved into this small, but bustling town.

As you thought up ways to fully enjoy your day off, a shadow loomed over your shoulder. The finger poking you sending your heart into a split-second coma, shoulders jumping in confusion and fear. "Heh...", A slight chuckle escaped from your mystery stranger.

"Morning, Y/n. It's just me." Mr. Mystery stranger- Your new friend James, teased. His voice reverberated next to your ear, sending your head to snap in his direction. "Holy fuck-" You exclaimed, heart once again stuttering in your chest as you stared at the green eyes in front of you. Your expression must have been funny, from the way James seemed to smirk. It was a bit hard to tell from his mask, but the amused chuckles that followed made it clearer.

You let out a relieved breath, "Jeeze you asshole...", his laughter infecting you as you let out a small chuckle of your own. Your thoughts quickly turned to confusion, though. How did James know where to find you? You'd just stepped out of your apartment complex...

"Morning to you too, James. But eh.. How'd you know i was here?" You asked curiously, looking up at him. James was a pretty attractive person. His black and red hair, long and wild, was eye catching, reminding you of the night you both met. His dark green eyes seeming to pierce through anyone who met it's gaze, unraveling everyone's intentions onto a silver platter for him to see. Snapping you out of your daze and replying to your question, James gave a noncommittal shrug, "Just looking for somewhere to get breakfast.", he blinked, gaze turning back to you, "Why?You live here?" Ah...that made sense. Jeeze.. look at you overthinking things again.

Your mouth formed into a smile as you nimbly dodged the latter question, "Why not get breakfast together!", you offered cheerily. He glanced at you for a hearbeat before responding. The feeling of being read crawling up your skin. "Sounds good to me." James finally replied. And you felt like you could hear a smile in his tone as a shiver of relief washed away that eerie feeling.

You and James went to the local diner. Nothing super fancy, but it was full of familiar and comforting smells, which made it good enough for you and James to grab a quick bite. Well...more like for you to grab a quick bite, and James to grab something to drink. James never took his mask off around you... or anyone as far as you could tell. Putting down the menu after choosing what you wanted to order, your thoughts drifted, as you waited for a waiter or waitress to come over. Your thoughts inevitably decided to focus on James. I wonder why he never takes off his mask around me... You mumbled wordlessly to yourself, trailing your fingers on the spine of the menu. Weak immune system, maybe? Or... perhaps.. facial scars? What ever it was, though, you promised yourself not to pester him about it. Having a weak immune system was personal medical stuff. And you'd had first hand experience with the shame that came with scars. Your gaze trailed down to your hands, which had some cuts here and their. All from different life experiences and situations. Some from accidents. Some with...different backstories. "Are you okay?" The words brought you out of your haze. You looked up at James, and then noticed the waiter at the side of the table, eyes nervously flitting between you and James. "Oh... oh yeah I'm alright!" You said, waving your hand in dismissal, as you took the chance to relay your order to the waiter. James ordered a mint choc chip milkshake, one of his go to drinks. "A milkshake at this hour?" You lightly teased, watching him roll his eyes in response. A beat of familiar silence rose up, as your gaze trailed back to your hands. Tracing them with your eyes. "Y/n." James called out. Once again pulling you out of your thoughts. "Huh-? Yeah?" You responded, half confused...until you saw him glance at your hands for a second, before his green eyes landed on yours.

"I want a real answer this time. Are you alright?" Jame's tone was stern, but held a genuine softness inside it. "Pfft...", You let out a small laugh, "I'm fine. I really am." But with one glance at his face, you could tell he didn't take any of your words seriously. Your eyes shift back down to your hands, the second time today. Taking a small breath in, you add, "It was a long time ago. I don't see them the way I used to.", you pause, searching for a way to articulate your feelings, "To me now...it's proof that I survived. That I was able to move forward." You look back up, looking in Jame's eyes. They were slightly unfocused, but still trained on you. He let out a soft, but ambiguous hum of acknowledgement. Smiling, you looked to ease the heavy fog of awkward gloom. "So yeah..I guess you could say these are battle scars from duking it out with life and coming on top." You chirped, your smile turning into a satisfied grin. His gaze softened at that. An amused eye roll telling you that your efforts were at least slightly successful.

James stared at you as you ate, the conversation from earlier... despite bringing up some bad memories...making him feel a soft fuzzy feeling only you could give to him. Maybe you wouldn't question his scars once he revealed them to you. Maybe you wouldn't look at him like he was...disgusting. Maybe you wouldn't judge him. He could feel his patience starting to thin. The deepest part of his mind telling him, yelling at him, to take you away. He had to make you his. No... you already were his. And he would never let you go.

NEVER

James belongs to the amazing -> @hotpinkmoon aka Moonie!

IM STARTING MY FINALSS AAAAAAAA IM GONNA DIE

Im so nervous can you tell? Im losing my mind and I havent even reached the official exam hall

Kill me (with kindness pls)

Imagine telling your fans to harass someone and ruining the livelihood because you can’t handle any kind of criticism and blocking comments that didn’t even even had a single hurtful thing to say to you

( horrible English I’m sorry for that )

( you don’t understand anything that I said please and tell me and I’ll rephrase )

( no this is not to send harassment towards her this is to hold her actions accountable )

Talking to character ai has become an unhealthy addiction. Its the funniest and the most frustrating thing ever. I love it and hate it.