#fanfanfiction

[onlyplatonicirl]

Earlier…

“Dream!” Ink huffed and puffed and pumped his arms as he spotted the yellow guardian talking to a few guests near the dining tables. “Dream! Oh stars! Dream, hey!”

The guardian of positivity politely waved his hands off to some acquaintances, or fans, that Ink did not know, turning away from the conversation to face the frantic artist. Scorn dashed the guardian’s face, his eyes all squinty and his chest deflating with the buildup of an obvious sigh. He crossed his arms. “Ink I really don’t have time for this, just get it all out.”

     With Dream’s attention, Ink’s cheeks flushed rainbow and his eye sockets looked up at him at a bashful angle. He fidgeted with his scarf. “Well, uh. Uh… remember how I have that thingy, you know… gosh. Uh. I need my rash cream!” Ink blurted, meeting Dream’s sockets,which by now had reduced to mere lines, letting out the slightest bit of his golden eye lights.

     “Ink. How long have you known about this! I thought it had gone away…”

     A pause. An embarrassed giggle from the infected artist. “Uh well, it came back?”

     Dream groaned and dragged his white-gloved hand down his face, holding it there below his chin for a quick moment. “You know, you’re lucky I expected some of this indecency from you.”

     Ink peered up from his bashful expression. “Huh? Dream come on…”

     “You’re lucky, because I’ve packed the cream.” Dream, impatient, fished around in the pocket of his turtleneck button up and held the small tube of used ointment, gingerly sandwiching it between his thumb and index finger as to avoid the artist’s diseased touch. Speaking of the artist, he wasted no time in snatching the tube and stuffing it into his deep pant pocket, eying Dream the entire time while trying and failing to keep a composed face. His eye sockets flickered for a few seconds as he stood still, touching a phalange to his cheek.

     “Ah! Uh. Thanks Dream.” Ink’s hands flew to his head, knocking off the beret he’d purposely tilted prior to arriving at the ceremony, and dashed away without another word. Dream knew that Ink was acting strange, even when assessed on an Ink scale. He had bigger things to deal with than the father of the groom.

     Dream’s eyes scanned the table placement, making sure that the white table cloths were all laid out perfectly, perfectly in line with the crystal vases topping of the arrangement. He drifted like an angelic ghost between each table and the chatty guests, glossing his phalanges across the fine fabric, tasting it, even, to make sure absolutely nothing had touched it. Not even air. For the air had to be pure too. For that, the guardian inhaled deeply and puffed out his chest. Satisfaction. Apart from one thing. One contaminant.

     That man. That hideous man Dream despised with his soul yet gained plentiful satisfaction from, when feasting on the poor parenting Ink had placed onto his sons.

     All air ceased inside the guardian of positivity as he caught sight of the tall, raggedy looking thing creeping along the walls with that unreadable, miserable face. He honestly couldn’t tell if he was confused or angry or bored… but Dream had a purpose, and his legs moved fast.

     Before the human could dash out of the reception hall, Dream grasped the wet sleeve draping over his victim’s hand. Sweetly, “Hey… can we talk?”

     The human gave a gruff huff before looking down at the short skeleton, his brown eyes enlarging as the innocent yet firm expression of Dream Sans penetrated his soul. The human (Dream had forgotten the guy’s name due to sheer disinterest), looked around as if he were searching for someone else for support. Well, it wasn’t exactly normal to be stopped by Dream, who had estranged himself from Gradient ever since Casey and Gradient officially announced they were dating while on a trip to McDonald’s with him and Ink. “Uh, sure, i guess.” For a lack of better words, this was all Casey got. 

     And before he knew it, Casey was sitting directly in front of Dream on a wooden stool inside of a janitor’s closet, watching Dream’s slender fingers tap on the side of a dirtied wheeled trash can. The dimmed lights definitely didn’t add to the “good chat” ambiance, but only made the skeleton’s eye lights gleam like some psychotic birthday clown.

     “Uh. Hi i guess.” Casey had enough and eventually broke the silence, lazily lifting his hand up as to make at least the slightest suggestion of a friendly gesture. That, honestly, didn’t go too well. Dream’s mouth only pressed thinner and his eyes squinted harder, the yellow sockets moving as he scanned every inch of Casey’s body. The disheveled hair framing his half adult-half child face, the splatter of freckles spotting his nose, his lazy yet bulging eyes, the way he kept picking at his fingernails…

     Disgusting, truly disgusting. A low squeak escaped from the guardian’s throat, his fingers clenching the nearby mop. “So… Cain right?”

     The human perked up, his eyeballs looking at Dream from above his clenched fist. Confusion. “Eh? Oh, it’s Ca-”

     “So Cain… why do you want to-”

     “It’s uh-”

     “Why do you want to ma-”

     “Uh… well, i-it’s-”

     “What? Hmm?” The guardian’s eyes looked like they were going to ooze out of their sockets. It was quite concerning, actually.

     “Uh. My name, uh, it’s Casey.”

     Dream stared at Casey for a hot second as if he was an alien inside of a Walmart, his sockets faintly twitching. “That’s irrelevant! I don’t care what your freaking name! Ahem. Let me speak!” Casey hadn’t said a word since Dream started to get all hot and bothered, but whatever. He trembled just a bit in his white mini platforms. “What I’m trying to ask is, WHY do you want to marry Gradient, hmm?”

     Casey’s face flushed a brilliant red, well, because it was weird to have Dream, someone he’d  hardly seen let alone talk to, force him into a janitor’s closet, stare at him like a piece of hairy cheese, then ask him why he wants to marry the guy he’s been dating for like six years of something. Casey had no clue whatsoever about Dream’s narcissistic motive, though. He just thought the guy had too much to drink.

     “Erm. Cause, uh, he’s cool and cute bruv, i guess.” That was probably the stupidest and most embarrassing thing Casey could say, but his mind was in a pickle, and had to act fast. “Uh.” This Dream guy didn’t make a peep in regard to Casey’s reply. But his rigid form and squinted eyes really spoke volumes about the sheer disappointment brewing inside him.

     “Great… uh huh. So where do you work? You got a job?”

     Oh. That question. Casey fumbled with his fingers again, jiggling his one leg nervously. Whenever someone asked him that, he always just played around it like it was some sort of classified secret or something, He usually just said he worked for the FBI but considering this was Dream the guardian positivity, who worked in the higher ups of some important council, he supposed the truth would be exposed anyway. “Uh. I’m a manager at McDonald’s, mate.”

     “Really…” Dream crossed his legs and placed his head in his hands. “So is that, you, know, a starter job.”

     Starter job… no, it wasn’t. Casey intended to work at McDonalds forever. He never told anyone why, even Gradient. For Gradient was the reason why he wanted to serve McFlurries and pump pink slime for eternity. It was embarrassing, really. But every time he served a burger and piled up nuggies, he thought of Gradient. How the blushing Gradient had hidden a ring inside a McNugget and proposed to Casey one day. Plus he could get Grady free stuff and play in the jungle gym slides during the after hours…

     “Huh?” Casey realized that he hadn’t actually said anything, he was just daydreaming and staring at Dream with a vacant expression. “Oh, uh, that’s my permanent job.”

     A smug smirk crossed Dream’s face, a small chuckle bubbling in his chest. Dream really was getting what he wanted. The more he found out what a loser Casey was, the more his parenting was reaffirmed. He thought to himself… he responsibly raised Palette into a reputable and respectable individual, elevating his image as the responsible parent and esteemed guardian. He himself was successful as he was, for god’s sake, he was the guardian of positivity, casually mingling with other esteemed multiversal individuals. All this was just another ticket to defame Ink and the mess he’s managed to inject into multiple generations. Obviously, obviously his poor act had led Gradient to have downright fowl taste in people. Right? Yeah.

     Dream smirked. “So, Casey, about you and Gradient…”

To be continued...

*more grasey food i suppose heheh*

PART…. PART SOMETHING!!!! I LOVE THIS GRASEY WEDDING SERIES OK TIME FOR MY COMMENTARY

- DREAM WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BITCH. ALSO HOW DOES INK HAVE A RASH HE HAS NO SKIN

- oh I hate this guy this dream is so much worse than canon tcoti dream he’s a BITETCH!!!!!!

- DREAM WHY DO YOU HATE CASEY SO MUCH. ITS NOT HIS FAULT HES WEIRD AND GROSS HE WAS BORN LIKE THAT!!!!!!!!!!! DONT BE MEAN TO HIM!!!!

- Casey working full time at a McDonald’s is genuinely so funny to me. Gradient would absolutely propose through a chicken nugget. Casey would like getting free shit for Gradient. Only problem is how would casey fit in the kids area. He’s lanky but he’s like six foot three. He has DEFINITELY gotten stuck up there.

- Dream die

YAYY I CANT WSIT FOR THE NEXT PART ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ YYEYAYYYYGGY

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

What are your top 5 Peaky Blinder smuts on here?

Thank you so much for this ask! I haven't been reading as much blinders smut specifically as I used to since I'm on a big Jonathan Crane kick right now but this ask has gotten me back into it. So thanks a million!

These are the first that come to mind but there are a boatload more! (some have some dark themes so be warned)

Beg For It by @novashelby

Sweet Treat by @your-nanas-house

What If I Do Something For You? by @yellowpsyduck

Jealous Heat by @wonderlanddreamer

Think Straight by @ikinremu

[genevawrenn]

Updated AO3 & Writing Facts, cause why not [holding myself accountable];

DSMP Fics : 35 QSMP Fics : 23 Other AU Fics : 17

How many words writted to date : 660,515 First date you posted : May 24, 2022 Most recent : May 10, 2024

# of POV & Word Count* [ish, I do switch POVs sometimes in the middle of the story]

c!Ranboo-Centric : 4 Fics ~ 142k words c!Tommyinnit-Centric : 6 ~ 122k c!Technoblade-Centric : 11 ~ 118k c!Tubbo-Centric : 6 ~ 104k c!Philza-Centric : 15 ~ 94k c!Eret-Centric : 12 ~ 80k c!Fit-Centric : 6 ~ 65k c!Foolish-Centric : 4 ~ 36k c!Pac-Centric : 3 ~ 33k c!Niki-Centric : 3 ~ 20k c!Aimsey-Centric : 2 ~ 15k c!Slimecicle-Centric : 2 ~ 6k c!Cellbit-Centric : 1 ~ 6k c!Chayanne-Centric : 1 ~ 5k

Longest Fic : Nightmare [73,221 words]

Shortest Fic : Shine a Light in the Dark, Let Me See Where You Are [1,278 words]

Highest Hits : You Make Sure I Always See the Daylight [4,181]

Highest Kudos : The Wise Crow Has Been Fooled (A Cage for a Cage) [237]

Sneak peek of things to come :

-A 5 part fic for Blood Duo week [hopefully] -A special fic for a dear friend's birthday -2 Voices for the Blade fics

These are all planned to release by or on June 1st.

WIP to return to :

-Syndicate baking day [fluff, all fluff] -c!Fireworks duo escape DSMP -Ender King possession fic / BOLAS rescue rewrite -Cellbit taking Chay and Lullah for a weekend -Angel!Fit and demon!Pac -Morning crew fic w/ robot!Tubbo -Star Rosa Chap 3 -Hopeduo tattoo artist AU -Hideduo cabin getaway -Fit caring for Chay and Lullah post EK possession of Phil

Things to slowly chip away at: -DND backstory for an irl friend's campaign [2 years overdue] -5ish original novels -2 potential fic to novel rewrites -c!Eret lore retell

[eileniessacreative]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karlach/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Karlach (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s) Characters: Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, One Shot Collection Series: Part 4 of Highway to Hell Summary:

Karlach shook her head. ‘No way. If you’re going to Avernus then I’m coming with you.’ She put her fist against her chest. ‘That fucking hellhole took ten years of my life. I’ll be damned if I let it take you too.’

Act 3. An additional scene between Karlach/Tav the night before going to the House of Hope.

[waves-art-blog]

"Very brave of you to come down here!", Wesker's unmistakable light raspy voice sounded behind Haddie, who was about to make a move on the chest. She let go of the lock, which let out a soft metallic clack after it hit the chest. The young woman straightened up and half turned towards the uniformed person, so that he could only see her profile. Haddie was calm. Her determined gaze was fixed on Wesker. He did little to frighten her. "And you have nothing better to do than follow me down here, Blondie?" the young woman spoke in a calm and firm voice, her lips twisted into a slight smirk. She turned away from the box, the contents not that important, before walking up to Wesker and stopping in front of him. "So?" she asked him, reminding him of her question when no answer came from him. "And what about you? Don't you actually have something better to do than be down here?", instead of answering he threw the question back to her. Once again he bypassed her question. What he did more often. As he spoke, he walked around her. Circled her. Like a cat playing with its prey, just waiting for the right moment to strike! Undeterred, Haddie stood calmly, knowing all too well the feeling of being circled by a predator. Even when Wesker grabbed her after standing behind her, holding his knife to her throat, she remained calm. He was just playing with her, trying to scare her! "Very brave or very stupid to put yourself in this death zone, Haddie!" the girl heard his voice close to her ear. She pushed the air out of her lungs in amusement. Without much resistance, Haddie pushed his hand with the knife away from her and freed herself without any problems. She walked slowly and smoothly to the stairs and turned to Wesker one last time. "You disappoint me by wasting your time with you!", Haddie emphasized the words the way he always pronounced them, "I'd say playtime is over, blondie! For now!" Before hurrying upstairs to get away from the basement to finish the exam, Haddie threw a few last words at his head, "Au revoir, À plus tard!" Then she was gone, leaving a Wesker alone in the basement.

---

Hello, It's me again... after a long time again.. I Know! OTL

And thank you to reading until this point, I had only a small Idea for a small Fanfanfiction behind this Artwork, but i was longer as I though ^^' Sorry for any grammar mistake!

Or... you skip only the Story-Section... ^^'

Well, then: Welcome to the Description!

I do not know what to say about it. The idea for the picture I had already had a little longer in the head and now finally get implemented.

For the background I chose the basement, because I think it fit the color scheme of the image best! Even though it currently seems a bit like it's the endgame broken out and the clock is ticking…. Maybe it's actually the collapse and Haddie has to run fast right away to get to the gate in time!

To that it is the first picture what I protect with Glaze against AI theft! If you have perhaps noticed the small Unfeinheiten on the picture and wondered what that is: Glaze protection!

—-

🔹  Character: 🔹   Haddie Kaur & Wesker (Dead by Daylight/Resident Evil)

🔹  Program & Material(s): 🔹   Clip Studio Paint

🔹 DON´T repost, steal, repaint, NFT, AI or something else. Copyright by me. 🔹 YOU DON´T HAVE ANY PERMISSION TO USE THIS ARTWORK 🔹

[stackthedeck]

hi back again sorry, how would you feel about fictives (alters in d.i.d systems that were created based off of a fictional character) interacting with you and your fanfanfictions? would you think it was weird and cringey or not want to interact with that? or would you think it was cool if for an example deadpool commented on your posts?

(think of them like the real person from an alternate universe sharing a brain with someone here, not a roleplay or someone pretending to be that character)

Hi yes I did get an ask like this on tiktok, sorry I didn't get around to answering it!

As a general rule, I'm fine with anyone commenting on my fics as long as they're not being hateful or harassing other people! I treasure every comment I get so of course a fictive could comment! It's not cringey or weird, it's part of your lived experience and I would never judge so yeah if an alter in a DID system wanted to comment, no matter who they are, they're welcome <3

[thatfanfictiongirl76]

The Vampire Diaries-- Rare Pair Rec

So lately I've been stuck in a Vampire Diaries obsession and have been consuming an insane amount of fanfiction. In amongst them I've found a few gems that are a rare pair ship. So I thought I'd share them with you.

In Secret

By: Star_Dust47

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217239/chapters/61122979

Summary: Elena Gilbert met Finn Mikaelson when she was 12 years old, it was the one moment in all the time that Finn had been held in the box that he managed to escape. Sadly it was not very long and soon Klaus had him back in that box he so loathed. What happens when Finn is released by Elijah Mikaelson and Damon Salvatore 6 years later....

My Comments: The reason I started reading this fic was because it was 2 am and I was bored and trying to fall asleep. And boy was I surprised by how good this fic is. I ended up getting no sleep that night because I stayed up reading and I couldn't put this fic down. StarDust actually managed to make the Finn/Elena pairing work really well. And I have to say that this fic I really enjoyed reading a lot. I highly recommend giving this fic a chance!!!!

Status: Incomplete

Last Update: 1/16/22

Length: 70,162 words

Shades of Blue

By: MissNMikaelson

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957140/chapters/39849315

Summary: In a world where everything is black and white, the first color you see is the color of your soulmate's eyes. Elena didn't think she'd ever see color, and then she did when she least expected it.

My Comments: So this is a short little fic, but I love the premise of it. I found that I really enjoyed reading this, and they managed to make the pairing work. It was last updated back in 2018, so I doubt the author is going anywhere with it. But I do think that you'd enjoy this. I have this marked as incomplete, but it could be read as a one shot. This fic is cross-posted on ff.net, so I'll link that down below.

Status: Incomplete

Last Update: 12/12/18

Length: 1,698 words

Ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13144855/1/Shades-of-Blue

Queen of the Highway

By: SevenSistersofSussex

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30118659/chapters/74188458

Summary: A father's love is complicated and sometimes it isn't enough, but even so, John Gilbert knows his own daughter. So when Katherine Pierce slinks into the family kitchen, he knows she isn't his daughter. With Katherine out of the way, the Gilberts leave Mystic Falls forever to run from the threat of Klaus Mikaelson. But what happens, years later, when he finds Elena anyway?

My Comments: The pairing in this fic is Klaus/Elena which is a pretty strange pairing, I know, but the author really makes the pairing work. I started reading this fic because I was looking for Elena/Elijah fics, and came across this one. But god, this has to be the best romance fanfic I’ve ever read. And that includes some pretty popular ships. The foreshadowing and romance between Elijah and Elena, and Elena and Klaus is just amazing. I like seeing how mature Elena has grown, and all the characters have grown and changed. Plus the relationship between Elena and the rest of the Mikaelsons is just fantastic. This work is also cross posted on ff.net as well, so I’ll link that site down below. You do need an AO3 account to read this fic.

Status: Complete

Length: 227,317 words

Ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13792162/1/Queen-of-the-Highway

For You I would Wait a Thousand Years

By: AnnCatherine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30191100/chapters/74389023

Summary: On everyone's twelfth birthday, their soulmark, the birthday of their soulmate, appears on their wrist. Elena Gilbert and Elijah Mikaelson are crushed when they learn they live thousands of years apart from their soulmate.

My Comments: This is a Elena/Elijah pairing fic, which I know isn't exactly a rare pair, but I'm including it regardless. I found that I really enjoyed reading this fic, and especially enjoyed seeing the relationship between Elena and Elijah develop. I also really enjoyed the relationship that Elena had with the rest of the Mikaelsons as well. This does have a sequel between Klaus and Caroline, which is basically just the outtakes between them that didn't make it into the original fic. I highly recommend reading both of these, I promise that these will make your days!!!

Status: Incomplete

Last Update: 1/3/22

Length: 73,160 words

Series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2290178

Sequel: Klaus's Thousand Year Plan to be Her Last ----  https://archiveofourown.org/works/31036127/chapters/76668110

[divine17]

↳ SANDOR CLEGANE NSFW ALPHABET | MASTERLIST

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Request: —

Word Count: 2,720

A/N: this one goes out to stella (@justanotherfandomjunkie) to fuel the sandor clegane obsession i’ve managed to give you. text me when you read this, thanks. love u bye

A —  AFTERCARE

Sandor would be soft-spoken and riddled with bad thoughts as his old insecurities crept back into his mind, shying himself away from you at first. What if you regretted this, letting him do these things to you? What if you wished that you’d never even met him? Did he do good, did he do well enough to satisfy you? He loves you so much, he wouldn’t even be sure if he could take you leaving him. It’s only when you curl into his chest, arms around him and head nuzzled into the crook of his neck that it would all melt away. 

B —  BODY PART

To be completely honest, there isn’t a part of you that he wouldn’t like. You’re his entire world and the air he breathes, the only good thing that he’s ever had happen to him. But if he were forced to choose, he’d probably tell you it’s your lips. Much softer and sweeter than any he’d kissed before, completely unique to you. Your hands, too. He would love when you make him hold your hand just because of how small and delicate and soft they are compared to his. His are rough and calloused and (seemingly) permanently dirty, and you can tell that he’s had a tough life just by looking at them. Big and riddled with scars all over his hands and up his arms, he would get amused at seeing such a difference between the two of you. He just loves when you’ll look at the scars, running your fingertip over each one and asking him to explain the story behind it. It never gets old to him. 

C —  CUM/COME

In the beginning, he would be... Hesitant? I think that’s the word I’m looking for. But he would be very reluctant to make you feel “dirty” or anything with his cum. Once again, his old insecurities would come creeping back up on him. He wouldn’t want to make you feel any kind of negative way so he would oftentimes try not to make a mess or anything of the sort. But eventually, that would grow into him feeling confident enough to come onto your face and inside you, lowly whispering something barely audible about giving you a son.

D —  DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

Hmm. Sandor’s dirty little secret... Honestly, it’s probably not much of a secret between the two of you, but he absolutely loves seeing you on your knees. It kills a small part of his soul every single time. Even if it’s for something innocent an vanilla, it just seems to get him like nothing else. Another thing (that you probably don’t know about) is seeing you in his blouses. They’re so big and they hang off of your body in just the perfect way, hiding your frame underneath it. God, he loves that. It reminds him that no one except him gets the great pleasure of seeing what lies underneath.

E —  EXPERIENCE

Sandor doesn’t have a whole lot (read: any) experience when it comes to relationships, so it’s entirely new territory for him. But he’s good in the bedroom, and he knows it. He’s had his fair share of women that have only lasted for a night. Brothels and taverns, visitors from far away lands and maybe even the top-secret royal who was entranced with his rough and dangerous lifestyle once or twice. When the two of you got together, he would disregard damn near everything he’d learned previously, though, and take his careful time learning and discovering your personal preferences.

F —  FAVORITE POSITION

He loves when you ride him, more than anything else. He still maintains most of the control as his big hands grip your hips with a tightness, guiding you as your fingernails dig into his shoulder blades. But it still gives you a certain sense of control over him, too. Sandor loves when you’re riding him and you lean down to meet his lips. He’ll loosen his grip and slow the pace, kissing you with a certain fervor, a kind of passion he’s never felt before that lights a fire deep inside his soul. Lotus, too, for the same reasons. 

And while it’s rare, he loves taking you from behind. Whether it’s you on all fours on the bed or bent over the kitchen table, it’s rough and masculine and utterly earth shattering. Primal, there’s something about it that’s eerily similar to a fox hunting his prey. Exactly what you’d expect from a man like him, a man so large and tough and scary, feared by most of Westeros for being such a brute. 

G —  GOOFY

More often than not, Sandor is more so on the serious side & wears a mostly neutral or blank expression, sometimes even looking a bit angry. He has a tendency to tilt his head to the right to hide his scars, pressing that side of his head into the bed or just away from you altogether. He feels almost as if you’ll suddenly become disgusted with him if you were to look at them for longer than a moment or two. It takes him a while to get past that habit, but eventually he does, sometimes even going as far as to let you kiss the rough flesh. 

H —  HAIR

To be quite honest, he doesn’t care all that much. It’s all the same to him in his book. But Sandor will do whatever you like the most or ask of him.

I —  INTIMACY 

Sandor, quite honestly, thrives off of the intimacy between the two of you. Like I said earlier in A/C/G, his insecurities can sometimes get the best of him. Whether it’s about his hair, his face or his scars, his body or his strength, sometimes he just needs to hear you whisper sweet things about how you love every inch of him and wouldn’t change a single thing about him if you had the opportunity. How you love him more than you’ve ever loved any other man in your entire life and never could, or would. Sandor Clegane is yours. Forever. And he loves hearing you tell him that more than anything else in this godforsaken, hellish world. 

J —  JACK OFF

Sandor doesn’t take matters into his own hands very often. Never, really, unless you’ve been apart from him for a long period of time. He certainly doesn’t take his time with it, and tends to be rougher and quicker than he is with you. It’s rather just a quick thing to hold him over until he can be back in your arms. But he definitely imagines you in a variety of positions and ways and the things he’s going to do to you when he finally arrives back home.

K —  KINK

I’d say his only real “kink” is that he’s very dominant. Sandor sees himself as your protector, so it’s no real surprise that he’s very, very dominant with you. Perhaps something vaguely resembling a breeding kink, if you squint. He wants nothing more than a gaggle of children and a peaceful life somewhere in the wilderness with you, and the thought of it... Well, it’s something about putting a Clegane heir in your belly. & now that I think of it, he might have a slight bit of a praise kink, too. He would love to hear you tell him how good he is, how much you love him and would never want another man to do the things he does to you. And in return, he would quietly praise you, telling you how you’re so good at sucking his cock and taking his length so well. Simple little things, he isn’t too good with his words in times like that (or ever, really). g

L —  LOCATION

It truly doesn’t matter to him. If he’s truly desperate, it doesn’t matter where. He’d take you in the middle of the Red Keep’s courtyard if he felt like doing so. Anyone who even thought about disturbing or otherwise interrupting the two of you wouldn’t live long enough to tell the tale. That’s not to say that he doesn’t prefer privacy, though. He does, of course. But just know that he’s not completely opposed to fucking you wherever you feel like it if he’s in the right mood for a little danger. 

M —  MOTIVATION

Seems as if nearly anything you do will turn him on. Whether it’s simply bending over in a more restricting or more body-hugging dress, sitting over his lap in just the right way, or you getting an attitude over something, Sandor is always ready to ready to go back home and have his way with you. A more subtle turn on for him would be when you play with his hair. It makes him feel so loved and appreciated and wanted, but he would never admit that to you.

O —  ORAL

Sandor loves oral. He loves eating you out and leaving tiny pink scratches inside your thighs from where his beard tickled you, seeing you writhe underneath him as he pushes two fingers into your entrance in one swift move. His tongue works magic onto you, that’s the only way to describe what he can do. He loves the feeling of your thighs tightening around his head as you get closer and closer to your release, your hands deep into his long brown hair as the arousal builds in your core. He’ll get more gentle as you grow closer to coming, helping you through the always-intense orgasm.

But he loves when you’re kneeling before him, sincerely eager and willing to please him. He’s definitely not used to that sort of attention at all. It was different with all of the other women. They were paid or obligated to suck his cock and do a good job, but you... You wanted to, you wanted to please him. You loved the feeling of his hands relaxed around the makeshift ponytail he’d created with your hair, his eyelids growing heavy with pleasure as he mumbles on under his breath about how good you are at this, you’re the best woman he’s ever had. You love the feeling of one of the toughest men in the country melting beneath your touch as you took control of him and his pleasure. It’s safe to say he enjoys that quite a lot.

N —�� NO

There’s not much that Sandor would absolutely, one hundred percent say no to. There are only two things that come to mind; He’s not too keen on the thought of sharing you with another person, man or woman, at all. Sandor definitely does not share well at all and would likely end up slitting the other person’s throat before the night is over if the two of you tried something of the sort. And anything that could even potentially hurt or injure you for more than a few minutes is a hard no, he won’t even consider it. He does his best to handle you in a gentle (well, as gentle as he can possibly be) way and do what’s best for the both of you. 

P —  PACE

Sandor likes to be quicker and rougher than most and can sometimes get a little carried away. But it’s never gotten to the point where it’s painful or unenjoyable. If it ever did, all you’d have to do is ask him to slow down. He’d feel guilty for ages, though, so he tries to be mindful of how much you can handle at once to avoid the situation altogether. 

Q — QUICKIES

Sandor isn’t incredibly fond of doing it quick and dirty somewhere he’s sure he’ll later regret, but sometimes it’s the only available option, and he knows it. He needs you far too much to wait for hours and hours until he can go home and neither of you usually have all that much time on your hands during the daytime. By far, he prefers going home and taking his time with you, but if he can’t have it that way... Well, that’s alright too.  

R —  RISK

Pretty much the same thing as N. New positions and such are fine by him. But Sandor isn’t very fond of trying risky new things because of how afraid he is of hurting you. Not to mention frightening or otherwise scaring you away from him. But if it’s something you absolutely just won’t let go of, he’s willing to consider it.

S —  STAMINA

Sandor lasts a fairly normal amount if time, I would think. Maybe a little bit on the shorter side, but likely not by much. Simply seeing your care form below him would have him on edge in the first place. But to “make up” for that, he has an incredible stamina about him that can and will let him keep going for round after round until you’re both far too tired to continue, each time somehow even better than the one before it.

T —  TOYS

Do they even have sex toys in Westeros? I don’t know. But either way, if they did, I think he would prefer to keep it simple. 

U —  UNFAIR

Sandor teases you occasionally. Small things like his hand resting on the inside of your thigh, creeping closer and closer to your cunt or taking just a little too much time when he’s taking your clothes off of you. But when you tease him... You’d better pray to every God you’ve ever heard of. It’s so incredibly easy to get him riled up to the point where he’s perfectly ready to toss you over his shoulder and take you back home for a nice little punishment. 

V —  VOLUME

He tends to try and keep himself at a lower volume. Small grunts and groans and whimpers of pleasure falling from his lips as he mutters your name so sweetly, praising you in every single way he knows how. Swears and quiet prayers would slip out under his breath, barely audible above the sound of his quickened breathing. 

W —  WILD CARD

Sandor would absolutely love watching you be able to properly defend youself. Whenever the two of you have some spare time on your hands, you’d ask him to train you. He is one of Westeros’ best fighters, isn’t he? He would take you to a smaller, more secluded area in the forest and set up a place for the two of you to spar and let you learn the ropes, as opposed to the middle of the town where there would be many sets of curious and prying eyes. That way, the two of you could do whatever you wanted and no one would know the better. And he wouldn’t go easy on you, not at all, he would make sure that he’s giving you a good challenge. The better you got with the dummy swords and spears and daggers, the prouder and prouder he grew of you. And eventually, watching you spar with a real, live human man or woman... Well, let’s just say that all of your hard work would definitely pay off in more ways than one. 

But if swords and fighting aren’t quite your style, that’s alright. 

X —  X-RAY

Sandor is a very, very large man. Standing somewhere around 6′6 (or like 200cm), it’s safe to say that his cock is rather proportionate to his giant stature. 

Y —  YEARNING

There isn’t a single passing moment that he doesn’t want you. Every second of every minute of ever hour and day, you’re on his mind and he can’t even deny it, but it’s not that he’d want to. He will come and find you and pull you away from whatever you’re doing if he truly cannot wait any longer, and don’t you ever think otherwise.

Z —  ZZZ

Since he met you, he’s slept like the dead. Formerly, Sandor was plagued by nightmares of his brother and the hot coals, his own screams echoing out into pure nothingness, and being a lonely old grouch for the rest of his life. But even from the very first night that you slept with him in his bed... His night terrors just seemed to melt away, much to his quiet delight.

[spiffysiffy]

WHOOPS MY HAND SLIPPED VERY POORLY

In relation to @llamagoddessofficial s main story I read a while back but can't get out of my mind.

--

Sans looked around the house, determined. MC wasn't home yet and they were still preparing. His eyes scanned over to the couch where Skull was snacking.

"Hello Skull~" Sans sang, in an unusually high pitched voice. "May I have some of your snack? I'm really hungry!"

The larger skeleton paused as if trying not to laugh, and then turned his head with a smile "nope! I'm sorry, it appears I'm only eating things you hate this week." And consumed another pickled herring out of the can. 

Sans shook his head thoughtfully, then quickly spun back to his larger copy "hey, my name is MC and I would love to cuddle you right now, would you like that?"

Skulls stopped snacking as he faced the TV. His mouth suddenly opened and the fishy pickle smell came out "...yeah…"

Sans snapped his fingers "almost! but at least the back up works" he exclaimed, only now in his own voice. 

Embarrassed, Skull then turned to sans, helping him as well. "Where are the knives, Sans?" Trying to mimic the same voice. It was barely an alto. 

"....." Sweat was on San's forehead. He took a breath. "In the computer desk, behind the AOL CDs… I'm letting you know because I trust you" 

The giant stood up and gave a suspicious look. "... yeah, okay"

After a moment, sans began searching the house, only to find Red in MC's bed with a suspicious amount of blankets. 

"red… we talked about this… "

"I'M NOT DOING NOTHIN!" he exclaimed, sweat rolling down his skull. "It's just colder now and I don't want her ta get cold!" 

Sans moved closer "red, we agreed this year we could handle this! no being weird! working together! helping each other to not be weird! are you even trying? why are you in her bed??"

He shoved most of the blankets off quickly and tried to climb out of his blanket maze. He was only wearing shorts and a tank top. "I WAS JUST KEEPING IT WARM FOR HER!" 

Flabbergasted, he just pointed to what red was wearing. It was getting cold but he was laying in her bed with his outfit that had the most bone showing? "... red, I'm doing this to help you." And Sans came closer.

"What? No, no, I promise I -hahaha no hoho heh!"  The blue skeleton had jumped and the red skeleton's upper ribs just under his arms "noho ffairr you knohoho my worst spoahahahtsssss" of course he did. They were all Sans. They all had similarities. Including tickle spots.  A struggle of giggles could be heard until another voice rang from downstairs. 

"Sans, the knife isn't where you said it was!" Skulls shouted.

He stopped. And red saw opportunity. A kick, a jump, and a quick teleport, red was now scribbling his hands against the ribs of sans as he was face down on the bed. Now HE had the upper hand! 

"Ohhohohmygahdnoho!" There was no way he could move, and certainly no way he could focus enough to teleport. He kicked his feet in futile effort. 

"That's what you get, that's what you get! You're the least controlled out of all of us!" Red taunted, his hand jumping from arms to neck to make the arms open again. 

Suddenly, a thud was heard and both sets of eyes turned to the door where a large arm failed to grab a photo of MC that was sitting on her dresser. They made eye contact. Skull closed the door and you could hear him trying to blockade the outside with a chair.

As if that would work.

Forming a split second alliance, Red and Sans quickly teleported to and tackled Skull with the quickest distraction they could think of "MC thinks you're the cutest!"

The giant was quickly toppled as red got the left arm, and sans got the right. A bellowing laughter shook the house, almost too loud to notice anyone coming in. 

"give up, skull! i WILL go for the knee caps!!" It was harder then expected to take this skeleton down. 

MC cleared her throat as the group sudden stopped. "Yeah, I'm gonna go upstairs, let me know when you're done. " And quickly hurried to her room.

The monsters stilled, now suddenly aware of everything she saw. Wow, that was embarrassing. Maybe now they can calm down. 

"....MC is really ticklish on her neck" spoke Skull. The room somehow went quieter. "....s-she gets really squirmy."

Fuck.

There was a sudden weight in the room. 

---

MC's phone dinged. A hotel website was notifying her of her registration. But she didn't place one?

A second notification popped up. "Hey, so, we decided we are not ready, so please enjoy this luxury 4 star hotel and please get out of this house for a week <3" 

Yeah, okay. 

[absollnk]

@eliter-4k-scope hey! I wanted to write some fffa (fan Forever and Always), but I couldn't find a way to make either of these long enough to be officially posted, so they're just a jumble of ideas I've had over the past few weeks. Take it

"Agent 3...?"

Your head lifts slowly off the table as if being controlled by an elaborate system of pulleys and ropes, worn down and ready to fail due to disregard. It was Eight, that called your name, and you look at her until she speaks again.

"We... There's no toilet paper left."

She's nervous. She's anxious, she knows you're judging her. You can see it in her face, hear it in her voice. She doesn't want to talk to you, but she thinks she needs to.

You blink. You breathe. You tell her to use the paper towels, but she says you're out of those too. You glance at the counter. You didn't notice they were gone.

Your face doesn't show any expression, and it doesn't look like it can. When Eight's talking to you, nothing changes. When Four's talking to you, nothing changes. Your pupils don't grow or shrink. You can't make eye contact, so it doesn't matter anyway.

You told her you'd order some later today online. You know that you're not paying for internet connection anymore.

Next

You wake up early. For a long time, you don't move, you don't open your eyes. Your brain eats at itself with your thoughts. Trying to swim in a river of quicksand, trying to find something to hang onto. There's nothing but sand, in your eyes, in your ears, in your nose, in your mouth, scraping down your throat. You can't get it out. You can't make it stop, you can't slow it down. You try to get a grip, but there's nothing this time. There hasn't been in a long time.

Then it's morning. The blinds don't keep enough light out; you can see your surroundings. Your bedsheets used to be a flat baby blue of sorts, but it's dotted with lines of red, splotches of yellow, and other colors that don't have names. Your sheets crunch like a stale tortilla as you drag yourself to a sitting position on the edge.

You don't see very much of the floor. There's clothes, bandages, towels covering most of it. The small visible windows of carpet are all sticky, each in its own way and for its own reasons.

The room reeks. You thought you'd get used to it after you first noticed it, but it keeps getting stronger. It builds up, constantly swells up inside, every visible object contributing to it. It's so bad, you once tried to open the window to let it out. You weren't strong enough. Once you opened your door in the morning, stepped into the hallway to trudge to the bathroom. Eight happened to be standing in front of the door and threw up on the spot. It's still there.

You look at the boxes piled up in the kitchen and living room, your past waiting to spill back out. Your hobbies, your possessions, your identity. It's sealed with a thick tape, and so is the knife required to cut it.

[brightbriar-writes]

*dabs cryptically*

[onlyplatonicirl]

For @jellyfish-swims-through-gold

(I couldn’t stop. Also I gave myself severe emotional trauma from this. It’s 1 AM and my pillow is stained with tears. I hope u enjoy/feel dead inside after reading lmao)

This is a AU of their fic “A Glimse Into Forever”, where in this version Reaper actually leaves Geno behind.

Reaper stepped inside the save screen.

...

...

It was quiet.

...

...

It was empty.

Like always.

Reaper had been here several times in the past week. Even though there was nothing but darkness, everything brought back memories of he and his love. How they talked. How they laughed. Where they had their first kiss and when they uttered their first, shaky “I love you”’s

...

There was a pot. It was covered in mold, and a foul liquid sat inside, so still it looked like a dirty pane of glass. Reaper backed away from it, the smell putrid.

Abandoned red strings still hung in the air, rapidly deteriorating, and losing their vibrant hue. The save screen was... abandoned...

The error had disappeared.

Sometimes, Reaper regretted his decision, and he’s toss and turn all night, mulling it over through a cascade of tears.

But he kept reminding himself that that thing wasn’t Him. It helped get him through his days. Reaper just wishes Goth could have met his incredible mother. He was eleven years old, a bright young boy with an outstandingly curious mind.

“... Ge...?” He couldn’t finish the rest of the word. His voice was cracked. The name had not been used properly for a decade.

There was no reply. The silence from the save screen seemed tangible.

A few more moment of silence, and the sheer nostalgia caught up to Reaper, and it became to much. He broke down into tears.

...

...

...

But he didn’t have time to cry right then.

The pull of twenty souls and counting suddenly erupted in his chest. He let the strong tug pull him to his job.

Another timeline, raided by Nightmare and his cronies. It was the same everywhere he went, and Reaper was accustomed to it by this point. People screaming, darkness spreading, knives, dust, blood, blah blah blah. He’s seen it all before.

But a small part of him felt compelled to do something to reduce his workload to stop more innocents from dying.

So he stepped out of the shadows and into the light, eyes dark and scythe swinging in a circle, warning the other to back off. Nightmare’s grin only grew wider.

“Well, if it isn’t our resident widow,” Nightmare chirped. “How’s the monstrosity you call a child doing? Oh wait, don’t tell me, it’s not too well. Does he cry himself to sleep every night, dreaming about his mommy?”

Reaper felt his figurative blood boil, but didn’t let any emotion show. His face remained expressionless.

Nightmare kept talking, as if he wasn’t faced with literal death. “Have you caught up with your little lover anyways? Where is he now?”

“He’s still missing, and that’s none of your business anyways. Leave, before I make you.”

The self proclaimed Lord of Darkness was not affected by the threat in the slightest. “Ah, how scary. If you turn around right now I’ll let you walk away unharmed. You’re getting annoying.

“You couldn’t even make a scratch on me,” Reaper snorted.

Nightmare’s shit-eating grin grew wider. “I know I can’t. But your old lovebug can.”

Without a second of reprieve, the Grim Reaper’s arms, legs and torso were abrupt bound with bright red string. It squeezed his limbs so tightly he cried out in pain before one of his ribs caved in. He wasn’t concerned with the injury - he healed quickly. What he was more concerned with was-

...

“DiD i dO... Do goOd?¿” Geno asked, peering out from behind Nightmare’s shoulder. Reaper’s breath hitched when he laid eyes on his fiancé for the first time in ten long years. However, Geno couldn’t have been less concerned with his prey. His eyes were only on Nightmare.

Nightmare began to croon and reached a hand up, stroking Geno’s cheek gently. “You did fantastic, my love.”

My love.

My love.

My love.

Reaper’s body instinctively jerked when he heard those words. He wanted to scream but all that came out was a whimper. Nightmare’s grin wrapped around the sides of his head as he lowered himself onto one knee, getting level with Geno. He wrapped his arms around the smaller skeleton’s waist.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he whispered, just loud enough for Reaper to hear. “When we get home, I’ll do whatever you want me to. How does that sound? But I know you’re still all tuckered out from last night, aren’t you~?”

Geno gave another nod, leaning into Nightmare’s chest and closing his eyes.

Reaper couldn’t breathe. His soul had stopped pounding. All the oxygen in the timeline had been replaced with poison gas, and every inhale felt like a thousand knives piercing his bones. He managed to croak out one word.

“Gen...gen...”

Nightmare looked him dead in the eyes and pet Geno’s skull soothingly.

“Do you want to know how we met?” Nightmare said with a venomous, fake innocence. “It’s a funny story really. He was all alone. How long had he been alone? Eh my estimate was about... n i n e y e a r s... and he was crying, screaming, pacing: ‘Honey, come back!’ ‘Honey, I miss you’ ‘Honey, you forgot me!’ ‘I made soup honey please come back honey!!’”

Reaper couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He was heaving with sobs, his panic rising. It had to be a joke. It had to be - there was no way-

“But word travels fast, you know? Soon, I realized that my team was just one short. I needed a very special member, isn’t that right honey?”

Geno, who looked as though he had already forgotten the conversation, nodded anyways.

“The second he noticed me in that save screen he was clinging onto me. Asking for his honey. So I let him know that his honey was here. And that his honey was going to take him home and take care of him, after so many years of being alone.”

Reaper wasn’t moving anymore. But tears spilled from his eyes like miniature waterfall.

“I just don’t think he should be fretting over an abusive partner, who has clearly moved on from him. It was time for him to realize that he should be with some one who...”

He tilted Geno’s head up with a finger

“...truly loves him.”

He cupped his hands around Geno’s cheeks.

And kissed him.

Reaper couldn’t look away. The strings were around his neck. Nightmare made sure to put a show on for Reaper as well, licking at Geno’s teeth with passion, while Geno happily opened his mouth to reciprocate.

They pulled apart after half a minute, Geno’s different colored eyes darkened with pure love. Nightmare stood back up and suddenly clasped his hands over the sides of Geno’s head. He wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve with a disgusted look on his face.

“I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s a whiny little bitch with the memory of a goldfish. I can’t expect him to remember shit. A hopeless bastard too, and severely impaired. He takes rocks and sticks and ties them together into a thing he calls ‘baby’, and then spend hours on end cradling a bundle of twigs in his arms, cooing at it. He’s fucking delusional, and a burden. I hate him. I love him as a tool and a tool only, easy to manipulate.”

Nightmare hissed at the immobile Reaper, and then gently raised his hands from Geno’s ears, immediately switching back to his faux loving tone. “But it doesn’t matter what I say, huh? You’ll do anything I say because it’s for your honey, right baby?”

Geno nodded at pointed at Reaper. “kiLL?”

“Ah ah,” Nightmare tsked. “This one’s a tough nut to crack. I don’t think you can kill him.”

A kiss to the forehead. “Why don’t you just break his bones instead?” Offered Nightmare gently. Geno happily complied.

Reaper could have fought back. He could have broken free from the bonds and reduced them all to dust. But instead, he made no moves. He was limp, weakened.

He didn’t fight back when his bones snapped. He didn’t protest. He only cried. Not from pain, but from regret.

Regret that he didn’t love Geno like he was supposed to.

He wasn’t there.

Geno was abandoned by Reaper when he was needed the most.

And now he was being used, like a puppet, for someone who only wanted him around for his magical capabilities.

...

But that was fine.

...

Geno didn’t know.

And he looked so happy, to finally have Honey back into his life. And Reaper could almost see the smile on his face while he cradled Baby, crooning lovingly to the dead tree branches.

...

So Reaper wouldn’t try to take him away. Geno didn’t deserve someone as awful as him.

The broken bones didn’t nearly hurt as much as his broken heart.

(I hope I have successfully murdered all semblance of emotion from ur bodies lol)

[thefanficdumpster]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Additional Tags: Overprotective Midoriya Izuku, Violence, Minor Character Death, Angry Midoriya Izuku, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, cursing Series: Part 1 of My Hero Academia Drabbles Summary:

Don't hurt the Bugīman's friends. Most people in the underground understand that, but a group of three kidnappers has to learn their lesson the hard way when they kidnap Eraserhead.

Izuku is not pleased.

Or; Izuku literally scaring the shit out of people while coming off as a feral momma bear protecting his favorite hero (and father figure, but no one needs to know that).

[marvelous-heroimagines]

The Switch

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Swearing, fluff, period talk, (I guess same sex relationship (kinda?)?)

A/N: The gif below is Peter after the genderswap

I hope the interchanging of pronouns isn’t too confusing!

“Shit!” you mumble to yourself as you glance at your watch and hurry up the Avengers Compound’s driveway. You were late; not that it was your fault, finding the compound wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, no matter how many times you’d come. But you still felt bad that your boyfriend would be left trying to explain your tardiness and stalling his friends.

After having to stand still so that F.R.I.D.A.Y. could run facial recognition on you, the huge front doors slowly open up and then you’re off running - trying to remember which turns to take in the maze that was the Compound.

After taking the last turn, you’re relieved to see - what you’re pretty sure is - the doors to the lab that everyone was waiting for you in. Almost as if fate was fucking with you, you trip over your own foot and stumble forward; luckily you get your balance before you topple over. But as you stand with a huff of frustration, what sounds like an explosion emanates from inside the lab, making the walls shake. You’re frozen with shock as you stare at the large double lab doors, but you’re able to force yourself to run the length of the hall when you see smoke seeping out from under the doors.

Bursting into the lab, your eyes start to immediately sting from the smoke that has filled the room. You can’t seen any flames, but the lab is so full of smoke you can’t be certain that there isn’t one.

“Peter?!” you yell into the grey air, “Peter are you okay?!”

You can hear multiple coughs, presumably from the Avengers, and then you hear a female voice, “Y/N?” it was a voice you didn’t recognise. Your brow furrows as the smoke begins to clear and your mind can’t make sense of the scene in front of you.

While you hadn’t met Peter’s team mates before, you definitely knew their faces well - from seeing them on tv - but the people that stood in front of you were not the Avengers. You start to panic as you wonder who these strangers were, and what had they done to your boyfriend and the Avengers.

“Y/N!” a small, petite brunette girl calls out once her eyes land on you, “Oh my god, are you okay?” the girl rushes up to you, but you step back defensively in your confusion. Her eyebrows furrow as she watches your confused and scared behaviour.

“Oh no,” one of the other women say. Her short brunette hair swishes as she swivels her head around, assessing the people around her,

“What on earth-?” the slender red headed man drawls out. You glance around the strangers, and something about them seems familiar, but you’re not sure how.

“What the hell happened?” the tall, muscular blonde woman asks the short haired brunette,

“My machine malfunctioned,” she response, “And, from what I can gather... We’ve been gender swapped,”

The young brunette who had approached you whips her head around, finally looking at the others in the room, “Oh my god,”

“Wait,” you say, “Are you telling me that you’re all the Avengers?” your head was spinning; surely this was not what the short haired brunette was meaning.

But as you peer at each stranger, you start to see the similarities. The tall muscular blonde woman had a strong jaw line, just like Steve Rogers; the short haired brunette was wearing coloured glasses and seemed to be the only one who knew what happened - definitely Tony Stark; the slender red haired man had to be Natasha Romanoff; the fit black woman had to be Sam Wilson; a boy that was only a couple of years older than you with long dark hair had to be Wanda Maximoff; and the strong brunette woman has a metal arm just like Bucky Barnes’. That meant that the youngest brunette girl that just approached you was Peter.

“I don’t believe it,” Bucky - in his female form - groans, sounding like she was well and truly sick of all the messed up shit that happened to them by now,

“This was... Not the plan,” the female incarnation of Tony drawls out, turning on her heel and staring at the still smoking machine.

“Ya think?” the male Natasha scoffs, assessing his own body.

Almost as if the thought had just hit him, Sam’s female self gasps loudly - grasping your attention - and pulls her shirt at the collar to peer down. She erupts in a fit of giggles that make her sound like a school girl and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“It’s not going to be an easy fix,” female Tony calls out, and you see that she’s fiddling with the machine, “Best make yourselves comfortable,”

You follow the others out and they lead you into a communal living space - if you hadn’t been so confused by the whole gender swap thing, you’d have been impressed by the vast luxury that the heroes lived in. Everyone plops down on the couches; Wanda and Natasha cry out in pain and spring up from their seats.

“Yeah...” female Sam drawls out, “Sitting is going to take getting used to now that you two have dicks,”

Female Steve, Bucky, Peter and yourself all chuckle, but male Wanda and Natasha shoot female Sam a narrowed look before carefully and tenderly sitting down.

“How long do you think it’ll take Stark to fix the machine?” you question,

“Who knows,” female Steve sighs, “Some of his... her? projects can take months,”

Now male Wanda and Natasha are the ones to laugh, and while female Steve, Bucky, Sam and Peter look at them with confusion, it only takes you a second to realise what they’re on about.

“Oh, you’re going to have a fun week, soon,” male Natasha says cockily.

Female Sam throws her head back with a groan and the other three stare at male Wanda and Natasha with wide eyes.

“God, I hope Mr. Stark fixes the machine soon,” female Peter whispers mostly to herself.

2 weeks after the machine malfunction, Tony still hadn’t figured out how to reverse the genderswap. Peter had to borrow your clothes occasionally, and the other Avengers’ had just swapped wardrobes. Happy had forbid any of the Avengers from leaving the compound, in case any one realised who their genderswapped selves were; which meant that all missions were handed to select few vigilantes around New York, and Pepper had to ring your high school to tell your principal that Peter was on an important Stark Internship trip overseas that would take a few weeks.

You'd learnt all of this over texts and phone calls from your boyfriend. You hadn’t been back to the compound since the machine malfunctioned - as school and work were taking up all your free time - which meant that you hadn’t seen Peter in 2 weeks.

As you wander back to the train after school, dreading the evening of work that awaited you, your phone buzzes in your pocket and you see that Peter is ringing. You answer it with a cheerful greeting, but Peter is panicked.

“Oh my god,” his now feminine voice shrieks, “Babe, oh my god!”

“Peter, what is it?!” you say as your heart begins to race with panic, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m dying!” she practically yells back, sheer terror in her tone,

“What?!” you shriek back. As someone who has a boyfriend that is a superhero, this was your worst nightmare,

“There’s so much blood!” she groans in pain, “And god, it feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach!”

“What’s happened?!” you press again, desperate to hear that Peter was okay,

“Come to the compound,” she groans before the line goes dead.

In a panic you hail a cab, make a mental note to have Tony Stark reimburse you for the fair, and quickly dial your boss while trying to think of a variable excuse.

The cab ride seems to take way too long, but you finally arrive at the compound and practically run into the building, your heart racing with terror as you start to make up scenarios as to what happened.

Bursting into the main communal living space, your eyes scan the space in a panic and you find your boyfriend curled up on the couch - groaning and looking to be in pain.

“What’s wrong?!” you practically yell as you hurry over to Peter, unsure where she was hurt or what you could do,

“It’s like I’m being stabbed, repeatedly, in the stomach,” she groans, “Oh god it’s so painful, I want to die,”

“Wait...” you drawl out as the realisation dawns on you, “Are you on your period?”

“I don’t know!” Peter bites back, “It just hurts and I’m bleeding. So. Much,”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, earning a scowl from Peter. You mumble a sorry and wander into the adjoining kitchen. Ignoring Peter’s questions of where you’re going, you calming open up almost eery cupboard in search of painkillers, a banana and chocolate. After locating them, you offer them to your boyfriend. She gives you a disbelieving look, but you push them into her hands.

After a few hours, Peter’s cramps had subsided and was acting a lot less over the top. Peter’s head is resting on your lap as you flick through channels and play with her long hair.

“Y/N,” Peter’s feminine voice breaks a long comfortable silence. You hum questioningly, prompting her to continue, “Does this bother you?” you glance down at your boyfriend, a confused look on your face. Peter motions to his female form, “Me, looking like a girl. Does it bother you?”

“No,” you answer honestly without missing a beat, “You’re still the person that I love, no matter what you look like,” your eyes grow wide as you realise that you’d just said the L word to Peter, something that neither of you had uttered before.

Peter breaks into a wide smile, her eyes screwing up at the sides and she leans up to kiss you, “I love you too,” she whispers against your lips.

The two of you kiss again, but are interrupted by an intruding, awkward cough. You glance over the back of the couch to see a short haired brunette with coloured glasses - it took you a second to remember it was Tony - standing in the open living space doorway.

“I’ve finally done it,” Tony breathes out, looking as though she hasn’t sleep for the last 2 weeks, “So, come on kid,”

Peter practically leaps from the couch, relief oozing from her, and hurries after Tony. You decide to stay where you are, not wanting to be in the blast zone in case something else goes wrong; you couldn’t get out of work and school so easily if you had to be shut in the compound for weeks.

After almost 30 minutes, you hear footsteps approach the living space and swivel around on the couch as you see the Avengers filing into the room; this time as you’d seen them on tv.

Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam and Peter look overly relieved to be back in their male form; but Wanda and Nat don’t look as happy.

Natasha lets out a groan, “Dammit, I was so enjoying not having to get hit on every single time I went out in public,”

“Or getting cat called,” Wanda added with a huff,

“Wanda,” Tony said, “Once a month, you get a week off. I don’t care what’s on, you deserve it,”

“Hey!” Nat called out,

“I didn’t... It’s not like...” Tony stuttered while Nat’s stare became more threatening, “Okay, you get one too... So that you can emotionally support Wanda,”

You giggle as all the boys nod in agreement with Tony; they’d clearly all experienced the joys of womanhood in the last two weeks.

Tags: @buckyobsessed, @addictwithafandomblog, @hantu369mc, @bearded-bucky, @meep-meep22, @redstarstan, @rosyfluffyprincess, @heismyhunter, @coffeeismylife28, @klutzly, @leahhavoc, @festive-assassian, @impala-moose, @stratmoxphere, @caitsymichelle13, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @wunnywho, @thedarknesswarrior, @girlwith100names, @addictionmarvel, @melconnor2007, @ipaintmelodies, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked, @spookydoritos, @fanboyswhereare-you, @yoyolovesbucky, @tcmhollnd, @all-that-glitters-is-cold, @lilya-petrichor, @hells-princess, @indecorousthoughts, @janellexox0, @geeksareunique, @courtneychicken, @nyoomiemaximoff, @mizzzpink, @lovely-geek, @potterjamesharry, @invisible2niall​

Tags that didn’t work: @mo320, @hesitant-poison, @yoinkpeter, @mrs-stan-barnes, @xplumsceptrequeenx, @sarahp879

[yibo-wang]

MDZS/CQL FIC RECS: Wangxian 

Been getting a few asks and comments for fic recs (which I’m sorry I couldn’t reply to but here’s a compilation post). These are in no particular order just some I’ve really liked over the course.

All authors have added warnings to fics if they need any so be sure to check those before reading.

I’ll keep updating this from time to time. You can also find other fics I’ve recced under ⛅ recs: cql fic  

1. In The Years We Forgot by Nyatci

Although the morning wasn’t a quiet one, everyone in Lotus Pier was startled by Wei Wuxian’s voice as he shrieked “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M MARRIED TO LAN WANGJI?!” or

A year after the events of Guanyin temple, happily married Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji get cursed and lose their memories of the past 20 years. 

2. Not rage but grief by dezemberzarin

“What I felt when I saw you with her…I thought that was jealousy.”

“But it was not.”

The words could have constituted a question, but didn’t, the certainty they were infused with instead invoking a spark of irritation in Wei Wuxian. It didn’t seem fair that Lan Zhan had grasped at that truth so quickly when it had taken Wei Wuxian the better part of a week to lay it free.

3. Tempo Rubato by  Spodumene

Tempo Rubato: Italian; Stolen Time; The musical practice of diverging from the unrelenting and gradual rhythm for a short period of time in a piece, allowing for solo freedom.

Lan Wangji starts high school in perfect step with the rhythm of his uncle's expectations and his duty to his family.

He doesn't quite stay that way.

4. through a window softly by impossibletruths

Wei Wuxian plays the flute. Someone in Wei Wuxian's apartment complex plays violin. Sometimes, they play the flute and the violin together, and it's... nice. It's really nice. It's sort of the nicest thing going on in his life right now, honestly.

5. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter ***fav 

“Are you done playing around?”

Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)

6. 总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie ***fav // honestly anything that yiqie writes is a masterpiece

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

7. and so my heart beats wildly by lily_winterwood ***fav

“You know, you’re the one to beat this year,” Jiang Cheng offers helpfully, having seen the glare from right next to him. “Hanguang-jun’s been through juniors with the rest of us, he knows all of our tics. You’re an unknown variable, since he’s never competed against you before.”

“Thanks,” says Wei Wuxian drily. “That’s very comforting.”

Or: five nighthunting competitions where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were rivals, and one where they weren't.

8. Saw My Life in a Stranger's Face by  timetoboldlygo

Lan Wangji had long since stopped thinking of Wei Wuxian's body as Mo Xuanyu's. He grew used to all the ways it was different and the same from the last. But slowly, surely, now that they were comfortable, Wei Wuxian's face had begun to change again. The lines of his jaw became a slightly smudged drawing. Not all together unfamiliar, just enough that Lan Wangji second-guessed his own memory. There was one night Lan Wangji came home to find Wei Wuxian's eyes had changed color. He woke one morning and was taller, his silhouette stretching and growing like a shadow cast against the wall.

His smile was the same. The way he pouted, and slept in, the way he kissed. His terrible jokes. Lan Wangji would get used to a new face too if the husband was still the same.

-

Or, the one where Wei Wuxian's face begins to change to look like his original body. It isn't easy on anyone. But it isn't so bad, either.

9. after night by detention_notes            [part of a series]

And Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying. Still the same as ever, he thinks. A couple hard-earned grays finally twine around his face. Faint scars etch here and there, one under an eyebrow where the hair sprouts white. He has a bruised shoulder. Summer-chapped mouth. Hands re-callused, smile unchanged.

years fold between one summer morning and one summer night. wei ying and lan zhan learn how to move forward.

10. the impracticality of zithers as weapons by sushicorps (Inclinant)

“Announcing the arrival of Leader Wei of the Yiling Sect.”

Lan Wangji, peerless Jade of the Gusu Lan Clan, chokes on his tea.

It has been thirteen years since the rolling mists blanketed the peaks of Yiling, barring entry to all that sought to harm it.

It has been thirteen years since Wei Wuxian had been seen in the cultivation realm.

11. détente by cafecliche  [more focus on yunmeng shuangjie reconcilation]

Wei Wuxian sits up a little further. Then instantly regrets it. “Go to bed, Jiang Cheng,” he groans. “I’ll live.”

“Will you?” Jiang Cheng says. “Because if you die in my guest room, Gusu Lan will have my head.”

He and Jin Ling really are the same person, sometimes. Wei Wuxian considers pointing out, again, that he is nowhere near dying, but he lets it go. He’s tired. And it’s apparently not helping. “Not all of Gusu Lan,” he says mildly. “I think the elders would send gifts.”

(Or: an unexpected stay in Lotus Pier.)

12.   Revenge is a Side Dish Best Served With Tea by merakily

Five times Lan Wangji gets his petty revenge + one time Wei Wuxian calls him out

Despite popular opinion, Lan Wangji is actually:

1. Terrible at diplomacy

2. Surprisingly vengeful

3. A master of holding grudges

13.  Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked

Four times Wei Wuxian doesn't get jealous, and the one time he does.

“You know,” Ouyang Zizhen says thoughtfully over dinner one day, “I’ve never seen Wei-qianbei get jealous before.”

Lan Jingyi pauses for the briefest second, remembers the sect rule of keeping silence during meals, and decidedly forgoes it. “What?”

“Well,” Ouyang Zizhen continues, “Hanguang-jun always has a lot of admirers everywhere we go, but Wei-qianbei never seems to mind it.”

“Why are we talking about this?” Jin Ling asks flatly.

14.  The Best Of You by sysrae

When Jin Zixuan calls in a favour, Lan Wangji ends up renting his spare room to Wei Wuxian.

It doesn't go how any of them expected.

[softsan]

NCT WEREWOLF AU (jaehyun)

🖇Chaos Ensues (pt.1)

MASTERLIST

PARTS: | 01 |

WOLF PROFILES | Y/N’S NAMES

GENRE: Werewolf AU, Action, Future fluff

QUOTE: “Jaehyun's chest rumbled, his inner beast coaxing him to continue on his path. He wasn't sure why until he saw you there.”

WARNINGS: Military talk, Implied murder, Talk of violence, 

The arid desert was an unforgiving wasteland, barren and null of the living. One knew better than to trek across the scorching sandhills under the blistering rays of the reddening sun. Furthermore, a constant wind whipped about, its hot sting stirring all that walked past. 

As a wolf, Jaehyun's familiarity lay with his forest-dwelling. The Wicked Woods, a setting of trees and an abundance of green. He knew little about surviving in such a harsh climate, his skills refined to preservation in a more neutral environment. 

Additionally, his thick fur coat proved to be disadvantageous under this weather—sweat dripping from his noes and gathering on his paw pads. 

There has to be a way out? Jaehyun helplessly panted, scanning the surrounding area. 

To his dismay, everything in the desert appeared the same. He had no gauge on how far he had strayed from the forest's border or how deep inside the bone-dry landscape he truly was. 

His mind dwindled on the events that had led him to his moment. Had he taken the time to listen, then perhaps things would have turned out differently.

But he hadn't. He had been rash, his actions impulsive and unlike his usual demeanor. Jaehyun blamed it on the madness of the moon—the silvery orb that hung full beside its fiery friend, the sun. 

The moon had a bizarre hold on wolves. It could make the calmest of beasts uncharacteristically vicious. It could command a wolf to shift and bite, endangering anyone in its close proximity.

I shouldn't have chased after those wolves that had come into our territory. 

Three lotas from a rival pack had wandered into their territory without their Alpha Taeyong's permission. This was a huge transgression for their kind. Wolves were territorial by nature and would defend what they had fearlessly fought to be theirs. 

Jaehyun had been tasked to hunt the trespassers and kill them. This was a customary response as it would send a message to others that might thoughtlessly do the same. 

In desperation, the three lotas ran in the direction of the Scorching Sands. The Scorching Sands, like the Wicked Woods, was not a place one took lightly. 

As for the Scorching Sands, it had an abundance of dangers, especially for wolves like himself.

Winwin had called for Jaehyun to retreat and end the chase, but Jaehyun hadn't listened, which had put him in his predicament. 

He was lost in an endless desert, the three wolves he had initially chased nowhere to be seen. 

───

"Y/N?" One of the scouts called for your attention. 

You unmounted your leather saddle. You rubbed your horse's mane, giving her praise.

"Are you Y/N??" The scout approached, his ribbed uniform and armored breastplate a foreign sight in a camp like yours. 

Had you known no better, you'd have thought he belonged to the East's militant, which was located in the garrison closest to your settlement. As a scout, it was one's obligation to obtain information about enemy forces. To do so, one was required to blend in with the adversary, hence the clothes. 

"That I am," You began to unfasten your small haul of alfalfa and legumes, which was securely tied to the rear of your horse's saddle, "What can I do you for?"

"One of the leaders told me to give you these," He forwarded a wrapped pouch. Inside were some papers alongside a folded map. 

You withdrew the charted paper, observing the intricately drawn circles and crosses. It was a map of the city, most impressively a map of the city's East.

What a peculiar item for one to find. You mused.

"How did you ever get your hands on it?"

The scout shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "I rather not say miss, it isn't the most pleasant of accounts," 

You didn't press any further. You understood what he was implying. Uncommon but not unheard of, a scout could kill to further garner information if the opportunity presented itself. 

Your fingertips traced the route that traveled throughout the width. Like a fever, you were excited to study the map in your hands. You tilted your head sideways, noting it'd take you a few days to transcribe the names of the places printed. 

"Thank you," You folded the map and placed it back in the safety of your pouch, "If you could excuse me, I have duties to attend to," 

The scout raised one arm and doubled over into a bow. Before collecting your goods packaged in cloth, you gave a nod and headed towards your tent. 

You had lived amongst bandits most of your life and had congregated a certain level of esteem for your talents in cartography. Your role in the camp was to analyze and compile geographic data and act as an advisory.  

In the last few years, you had also taken over the position of navigator, directing and at times relocating the camp throughout the hostile desert setting, finding small bodies of drinking water while also avoiding meteorological dangers such as sandstorms and mirages. 

You pushed back your tent's flap, entering the small space you called your own. You laid your goods onto your bed, a bed which consisted of a wooden frame and dried straw for padding. 

"I thought you were meeting with the other camp leaders to discuss the rationing of salted meat and grain." You didn't bother turning around, knowing the man behind you ought to be your uncle. 

Your uncle smiled to himself, "You always know when I'm around, don't you." 

You did. 

As a child, your mother had taught you how to place an imprint on another person. It functioned similarly to a trace that allowed you to mentally pinpoint another's location. Your uncle, who wasn't actually a biological relative but a trusted friend of your mother, was the first person your mother made you imprint. 

As per her last request, you were always to stay by your uncle's side. He'd provide you protection in this world, whereas others would not. He understood your condition and would protect your secret at all costs. 

Your uncle closed the tent flap behind him, taking a seat on your bed beside the other goods you'd been unpacking. 

"I did. It was a rather short meeting." Your uncle filled you in, "There wasn't too much to discuss." 

You raised a brow. You had your own suspicion on why the meeting had been so short. 

"We don't have enough supplies to last the drought of summer." He confirmed, "Even if we cut the rations down for each individual. It isn't enough." 

You slowly nodded, "Without food or water, the people won't have the energy to move before June begins either."

"We cannot tell the others, otherwise pillaging and riots are bound to come," Your uncle advised, "And the recent scouts that have returned back from their assignments... if they were to find out."

You grimaced. They would be discouraged to keep fighting for the bandit's cause. They may even switch sides and turn to the East for refuge. 

"Is there nothing that can be done?" 

"You said the land northwest was fertile, and there was a chance that there could be an oasis?" Your uncle unfolded a map you had drawn him weeks prior. 

Your mouth dried. You had made the map based on the geology trends you had observed, but the map itself was still speculative and offered no guarantee that your uncle would find what he was looking for.

"Uncle," You tried to resonate, "My map it's—"

"It's only conjectural." Your uncle finished off your sentence, "I know, but if by any chance there happens to be an oasis, it could save us." 

You exhaled, still uncomfortable with the idea. 

"Tomorrow before sunrise, I leave with a small group. We'll be gone for at least a couple of days. If we don't find anything, we should arrive before your birthday." He stood back to his feet, his arm rising as he tugged your headscarf lower over your ears, "Remember, to keep you guard. Trust no one with your secret other than I," 

"I'll remember," You repeated, "Come back safe." 

Your uncle left you with one last smile before exiting your tent.

───

Darkness had enveloped the skies above as Jaehyun continued to wander deeper into the heart of the desert. 

The intense heat from the day had drastically flipped, a bone-chilling cold taking its place. Despite Jaehyun's rugged fur, he still felt the severity of the cold, his breath coming out of as clouds of fog. 

Am I seeing things? Jaehyun blinked a couple of times as he noticed a campsite. 

The settlement seemed sizable. Numerous tents had been pitched while their horses had their own makeshift cover made from an overhead of fabric. 

Jaehyun felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, he was happy to find some resemblance of civilization. On the other, these were humans, and humans and wolves had an acrimonious relationship. 

Your teeth chattered as you shuffled your feet in the sand. You were gazed upward to the sky, studying the constellations. With some parchment, you were doodling potential markers and the shapes they made. In the future, you could possibly use these markers as a guide while navigating at night.

You hadn't noticed just how far you had walked from the camp, absorbed in your work. 

Jaehyun's chest rumbled, his inner beast coaxing him to continue on his path. He wasn't sure why until he saw you there. 

You looked away from the stars and to your parchment when your noted something big ahead. 

Jaehyun came to a standstill, consumed by the most divine of scents.

You stared equally as bewildered by the caramel-colored beast with the dark discoloration around his snout and ears. He was a creature of substance, his height as tall as a steed, his mammoth size incomparable to any other that roamed in these parts.

Werewolves were far and few in this part of the world. They were forest-dwelling creatures that conquered the Wicked Woods. Their tales painted them as phenomenally strong yet savage beasts. Other creatures of the night, such as witches and fae, wisely kept their distance—humans, too. 

For generations, humans cowered from the edge of the forests that they flagged as wolf terrain. They had spread prejudice and fear across the four kingdoms, assembling hunting parties to counter the threat they had foreseen. 

Jaehyun's eyes lingered. Your beautiful face was full and animated. You wore a headscarf that covered your hairline, your roots, and the top half of your ears. The rest of your hair was purposefully braided and twirled into a loose bun that hung at the base of your neck. 

The two of your remain starring back at one another. Jaehyun was afraid you might go running if he moved, whereas you were afraid that if you moved, the wolf might pounce. 

A loud sound erupted, shaking the silence. 

An explosion from the center of the campsite roared, disturbing the otherwise peaceful evening. It alighted a storm of colors, oranges and reds replacing the once navy sky. Debris was thrown in all directions, some pieces lodging themselves feets away in the sand, others piercing through the heavy-weighted cotton used for the tents. 

You tore your eyes from the wolf, turning back to face the settlement, horror etched on your features. 

Are we under attack? You frantically tried to make out if it was your people that were trying to make a run for it or if they were enemy attackers. 

Jaehyun slowly shifted back into his human counterpart. He wobbled as he tried to stand upright on the sand that sunk his feet. 

Out of all the places. He held back his disbelief. I find my mate in a desert.

He noticed the sudden change in your eyes, the inconspicuous color your eyes had been before had now flickered to a fiery orange. Jaehyun took a surprised breath, the confusion evident on his face. 

You're not human. He distinguished. Well, at least not completely. A wolf's mate had to carry some human blood. Otherwise, it'd be impossible for the mate tie to come to be. The lore was that werewolves were immortal creatures of the night. They'd lurked the forest depths for centuries until they laid eyes on their mate. From then on, the wolf would begin to age again alongside its human partner. 

In addition, it was believed that if a wolf's mate died prematurely, then the wolf would so to. This belief had, however, been since half disproven due to Haechan and Doyoung's ordeals concerning their mates. 

The pack had come to learn that it was only after a wolf had marked its mate did the two become bounded body and soul. Then the pain or pleasure the mate felt the wolf would experience too. 

Under the bad lighting, the orangy hue of your eyes could easily be mistaken for a wolf's. However, Jaehyun observed they lacked depth and were more one-note. 

What are you? 

You quickly compiled your notes, shoving them back into your satchel. You kicked your heels, ready to run back to the camp. Jaehyun quickly grabbed your wrist, preventing you from going. 

You turned back, stunned at the sight of a handsome man instead of the wolf. His eyes dazzled a brilliant gold which momentary stole your breath, "Let go," You finally found your voice. 

"Your eyes," He said with concern. 

"What about my eyes—" Realisation hitting you. 

You closed them immediately. How could you be so careless? 

Jaehyun gently brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, "It's okay." Whatever you were, he didn't care. What worried him was how other humans would react to seeing them, "My eyes change too." 

You hesitantly reopened your eyes. You watched as the wolf's golden orbs shifted into the shade of crimson red. Your jaw slightly dropped. The color left you with both the feeling of awe and fright.  

NETWORKS:  @nct-writers | ​

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