#{ chaptered }

[psycho-pills]

A Second Life for Strays! ฅ (•˕ •マ.ᐟ sylus x reader fanfic // prev // next

౨ৎ⭑˚ RATING; 18+ (mdni)

౨ৎ⭑˚ PAIRING; sylus x afab!reader (not the mc)

౨ৎ⭑˚ SYNOPSIS; you are a soldier reincarnated into the world of love and deepspace, except you're not the mc. she still exists. despite looking exactly like her, you don’t act or sound the same. and to make things stranger, cats follow you everywhere.

౨ৎ⭑˚ GENRE/WARNING; angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, (mutual?) pining, eventual fluff, eventual romance, eventual smut, cursing, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, mental breakdowns, ptsd, death, isekai, reincarnation, cats/cat puns, mc is named serenophe to avoid confusion/reader is not mc

౨ৎ⭑˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE; a gentle reminder: this is written in third-person limited with she/her pronouns. only the prologue is written in second-person. i use the terms [name] [surname] instead of (y/n) (y/ln) because it's easier for me to write. also, i know this idea is kinda weird and outlandish, but i love cats and love and deepspace, so why not combine the two? ;v;

౨ৎ⭑˚ LINKS; ao3 // masterpost

ch. one — a cat-astrophic realization! ౨ৎ⭑˚ word count; 3.9k

Where… She thinks. Where am I?

Her eyes flutter open before immediately squinting from the fluorescent lights above. The constant beeping of the patient monitor spikes in sound as her heartbeat increases. Instinctively, her hand reaches to shield her eyes, only to stop short with a sharp tug. A flash of pain shoots up her arm, drawing her attention to the thin IV tube embedded in her skin. She grits her teeth and lowers her hand, squinting through the blinding lights.

Gradually, her vision adjusts. One eye peeks open, the other still closed in protest. She slowly sweeps over the room. As her surroundings come into focus, her heart rate steadies.

The hospital room is bathed in morning light that filters through the large windows. As [Name] glances toward the windows, long shadows cross the room. Outside, there's a breathtaking view of the bustling, futuristic city below. The overall view of the world is serene, completely unlike the storm of confusion in [Name]'s mind.

The room is comfortably sized. Modern yet contemporary furniture and pale grey walls accommodate the small space. Sleek medical equipment lines the side of the room, but there's a sense of luxury present. Crisp linen sheets, plush chairs, and a vase of fresh flowers on a side table. It's more like a boutique hotel than a hospital room. 

A soft beige blanket covers her body, and the scent of jasmine whiffs up her nose. An unoccupied recliner sits in the corner near the windows, perhaps meant for a visitor; however, the room is isolated. The medical equipment strap to her arm and chest drones on. The rhythmic beeping indicated the steady tracking of her vitals. A small monitor occasionally blinks, recording her heartbeat and oxygen levels.

As she begins to stir, her body drags her down. Everything feels heavy. Her limbs, her eyelids, even her thoughts. There's an overwhelming sense of disorientation like she's floating between worlds. Memories stir, hazy at first, but slowly they sharpen. One after the other, they trickle back—chaos, pain, death. 

Her death.

Her body feels sore, but her head feels worse. She remembers the battlefield. She remembers succumbing to her bullet wound. The sensation of death still lingers like a cold shadow. Yet now, with her eyes fully adjusted, she takes in the pristine hospital room, and it becomes apparent that something is wrong.

I'm alive. 

The thought feels impossible. Absurd, even. And yet here she is—breathing, heart pounding—fully conscious. It was like she finally woke up from a long, deep coma.

With more awareness, she takes in the room. Across from her bed is a small, flat-screen television, turned off, reflecting the room's dusky mood. Besides it, a small door leads to what she assumes is an adjoining bathroom. Everything about the room is carefully designed to be soothing, sterile, and impersonal. However, it's oddly welcoming in a way she can't quite grasp.

Her body protests as she fumbles to sit up, mindful of the tubes and wires attached to her arm and chest. As she adjusts herself, she catches a glimpse of her reflection on the dark, glassy screen of the television. With some effort, she leans forward to take in her appearance better.

Instantly, [Name]'s breath catches in her throat. She pauses. Her reflection stares back at her, but something is off. Her face is hers, but it's not. All of her features are the same. Hair, eyes, mouth, nose… However, everything is just sharper now. Clearer. Her skin smoother, and her hair fuller. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear she looks almost identical to the female lead of her favorite otome game. 

But that can't be right. Can it?

A chill runs down her spine, and her eyes dart downward to her chest. Panic flares in her gut as she remembers the battlefield, the bullet wound that should have taken her life. Slowly, as if afraid of what she'll find, she hooks a finger under the collar of her hospital gown and pulls it away from her body, expecting to see a scar, a wound, anything.

There's nothing. Her skin is smooth, unmarked. No bullet wound, no scar, no evidence that she has ever been injured at all. Her heart stutters in her chest, and the panic she's been trying to suppress starts to rise like a wave, threatening to swallow her whole.

"What the hell is going on?" She croaks.

Her throat feels dry and scratchy, like it hasn't been used in days. A rough cough forces its way up and makes her wince. She tries to settle her breathing, but it's no use. The confusion, the fear—it's smothering her.

Just as she's about to lose herself to the spiraling thoughts, the door to her room clicks open. She jerks her head toward the sound. A man steps in, tall and composed, his black hair framing his face in sharp, elegant lines. His demeanor's cool but professional. There is a slight air of authority that immediately draws her attention.

She blinks, and her stomach drops.

There's no way.

Her eyes widen in disbelief as she stares at him. It can't be. It can't be. But there's no mistaking the man standing before her, his confident stride, the careful way he carries himself. His gaze idles before settling back on his notes. She knows that face, that presence. She can practically hear her heart pound louder as the impossible claws at her.

She glances at the name tag pinned to his coat, just to be sure. Zayne. It's there, clear as day. The doctor with a cold exterior and a reputation for being emotionally untouchable. Yet beneath it all, there's a hidden tenderness. He was one of them: a character she had admired, the one whose storyline was as complex and fascinating as the others.

Her mind reels. Oh, my Gods. This can't be real. 

She blinks several times, expecting his face to change into something else, but nothing happens. He's still there, as composed and meticulous as ever. The exact character she once admired behind a screen now stands right before her.

The disbelief overtakes her. It's suffocating and all-encompassing. How can this be happening? She died—she remembers dying—and yet, she woke up here. Her body tenses. Her muscles tighten as the pieces of her situation fall into place, and realization sinks its teeth into her.

She can't breathe. It's impossible. All of this, everything around her, feels like a nightmare. A twisted dream she can't wake up from. There's no way, there's no way she's been reincarnated. And not just anywhere. In the world of Love and Deepspace, the very game she escaped into for fun is her new reality now.

"You're awake," Zayne says calmly, but verging on something more unreadable. Confusion? Suspicion? He takes a step closer, his gaze lingering on her face longer than a doctor's should. [Name] can tell he's trying to remain composed. However, his eyes hold hesitance, like he's looking at something he can't believe.

Slowly, as if worried she might vanish if he speaks too quickly, he continues, "I'm Dr. Zayne, and you will be under my care for the foreseeable future." His voice is smooth, but his words are cautious.

"And you must be Miss…" He pauses and glances down at the file. His eyes squint as if the name doesn't match what he was expecting. "…[Name] [Surname]."

She swallows, almost choosing silence, but her raspy voice escapes anyway.

"Yes?"

The word barely sounds confident. She's frozen under his gaze, trapped in disbelief. Zayne's sharp eyes roam her face, drifting down to her upper body. It's not the casual assessment of a doctor checking on a patient. No, this look—it's familiar. It's the same gaze she used to see when playing the game, the moments when his character's cold exterior would briefly soften during some of his bonds and memoria. Her stomach churns with anxiety.

What. The. Fuck.

Zayne pushes his glasses up, and his professional mask slips back on. He steps closer to the bed, his expression shifting, but she can sense the tension beneath it. 

"I'm just checking for any signs of concussion or physical injuries," he says. However, it sounds more like he's reassuring himself than her. 

He leans in, and his eyes dart over her face. He scans her features for any signs of bruises or swelling. "Given your condition when you were brought in, we need to monitor for potential head trauma."

[Name] stays silent as he gently lifts the edge of her gown at her shoulder. His fingers brush her skin as he places the cold metal of the stethoscope against her chest. His touch is light and purely professional, but she can't help but feel a rising discomfort. 

Zayne may act like this is routine, but she can see the tension in his posture and how his gaze keeps finding her face. He's trying to hide it, but she can tell—he's scrutinizing her for more than physical injuries. It's like he's trying to fit together puzzle pieces from different boxes.

The metal is cold and harsh. She inhales deeply without him even asking. Then she exhales, and the stethoscope leaves her chest not a moment sooner. He scribbles something down in his notes. Almost hesitantly. 

"Everything seems to be in order. There doesn't appear to be any visible scarring or physical trauma," Zayne mutters. A bit too neutral. As he steps back, his eyes idle on her a beat longer than necessary. "Regardless, we'll run a few more tests to be sure."

She gives a slow nod, observing how his jaw tenses as he adjusts the equipment by her bedside. He's trying to play it cool, but the cracks are there. Something is bothering him, and she knows exactly what it is.

He recognizes her face.

She looks too much like the heroine of the game, the one who's the center of this world's story. [Name] isn't supposed to be here. She isn't the main character of the game. She's something else—an anomaly.

Zayne frowns when he catches her staring at him. He quickly returns to his task, clearing his throat like it can shake off his weariness. "If you're feeling any discomfort, let me know. We'll have the results of your tests soon." He says calmly, but his eyes still carry that hint of confusion.

As he jots more notes on her chart, her mind spirals. This is far more than she expected, far more surreal, terrifying, and overwhelming. She never anticipated finding herself in this situation, least of all being reincarnated into her favorite otome game. But here she is, alive in a world she once thought was fiction. 

Zayne looks at her again, his lips parting like he's about to speak. His face is composed; however, there's a shadow of skepticism beneath. Yet before he can get a word out, the buzz of his pager cuts through the moment. Instantly, the room's atmosphere shifts and his posture straightens.

The hospital's overhead speaker crackles to life, the receptionist's voice urgent: "Code Blue. Code Blue. Paging all medical personnel to surgical room two, please."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he hesitates. Zayne gives her one last look, like he's trying to commit her to memory. When the voice over the intercom repeats the emergency, he finally breaks away. His eyes tear from her face with visible reluctance. 

"Please excuse me," he says with urgency as he prepares to leave. "If you need anything, Nurse Yvonne is down the hall." 

Without waiting for her response, he sharply turns and exits the room. His footsteps fade down the hall, leaving her alone with her racing thoughts. In his absence, the room feels eerily still, like the air is holding its breath. Then, the silence starts to eat away at her. The impossible truth digs into her, and something inside snaps.

In one swift motion, she throws the sheets away from her lower body. [Name] swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands—albeit too quickly. Her legs, frail from disuse, buckle beneath her. She stumbles, catching herself on the IV pole.

The cold metal anchors her as she settles down. Her muscles are weak, but determination propels her forward. [Name] drags the IV stand along as she shuffles toward the attached bathroom. Her steps awkward and sluggish.

Reaching the door, she kicks it open with the bare heel of her foot, too focused on her next task to bother with formalities. She lumbers inside, not even closing the door behind her. The thirst clawing at her throat is unbearable, a raw itch that she can no longer ignore. Like a starved animal, she ducks under the sink. She twists the faucet open and lets the crisp, refreshing water pour into her mouth. The liquid soothes her parched throat, the cool sensation spreading through her body as she gulps down as much as possible.

When finally sated, [Name] wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and turns off the faucet. However, just as she's about to leave the bathroom, her eyes catch something in the corner of the mirror—her own reflection. She freezes, seeing her face a lot clearer in the bathroom mirror than with the television's blackened screen. 

Slowly, she leans closer, her hospital gown brushing against the wet edge of the sink. Her breath catches in her throat as she studies herself. "It’s me," she whispers. "But… Different."

Her fingers rise to touch her face, to trace the contours of her facial features. [Name] turns her face left, then right, her brow furrowing. Despite the striking resemblance to the game's protagonist, there's something off—something that makes it evident that she's different. Something subtle but undeniable. She's not the protagonist, but she's dangerously close. It's like she's staring at a near-perfect replica with slight imperfections that make it clear she's an outsider.

A thought jolts her back to the present. Actually, she thinks, why did Zayne call me by my real name? If I look this much like the protagonist, shouldn't he have called me—

Her mind goes blank. She tries to recall the heroine's name, the one who should be at the center of this world, but… nothing. She can't remember. Her forehead creases as she struggles to dig the name out of her memory. Yet the name remains out of reach, like a forgotten word on the tip of her tongue. [Name]'s mind is foggy; that part of her knowledge yet to recover from her reincarnation. 

The blankness gnaws at her, but she pushes it aside. She can't focus on that right now. Her mind races to piece together what little information she has. Considering Zayne's reaction, he knew she wasn't her despite how closely she resembled the protagonist. That may be why he called [Name] by her real name instead. Yet this realization only poses more questions. How does he know her name? And, more importantly, who had brought her to the hospital? Zayne's words implied that someone dumped her here, but why?

Her thoughts swirl as she steps out of the bathroom, a little steadier now. [Name] is exhausted, mentally and physically, and all she wants is to make sense of this unfathomable situation. She heads back to bed, ready to collapse. But just as she's about to sit down, she stops dead in her tracks.

A plump tuxedo cat is lounging on the sheets. Its round face stares at her with a manner that borders on playful mischief. Its green eyes gleam with amusement at her shock. The sight is so unexpected that she blinks several times in a row.

"Um," she stammers, gesturing the cat away from the bed. "Can you move?"

The absurdity of talking to a cat doesn't even faze her anymore. After everything she's been through, who will judge her? She's all alone in this strange, new reality.

"Sure," the cat replies. High-pitched and child-like.

Her heart skips a beat. The cat just spoke. 

Like everything's normal, the plump creature hops off the bed and waddles to the counter. [Name] stills. Her mind struggles to catch up with the sheer insanity in front of her. She can only watch as the cat leaps onto the counter and grabs a clear plastic bag hidden in the sink with his mouth. The cat drags the bag out, dropping it unceremoniously with a dull thud. The contents of the bag spill out in front of her—her military uniform, stiff with dried blood around the breast pocket. The sight of the uniform jolts her, the memories of the battlefield flooding back too quickly for comfort.

"Change," the cat orders, his tone matter-of-fact. "We're leaving."

Her mind stalls. She doesn't move. She doesn't breathe. All she can do is stare in utter disbelief. It takes a moment before her body reacts at all. When it finally does, she starts laughing. It's loud and hysterical, almost tipping on sobs. She's dreaming. She has to be. It's the only logical explanation for everything. 

"I've officially lost it," she gasps between fits of maddened laughter, clutching her sides as tears sting her eyes. Suddenly, the room feels uncanny, like she's trapped in some B-rated horror movie. She crawls onto the bed with shaky hands, diving under the sheets and wrapping herself in darkness.

She shuts her eyes tightly, curling into herself and willing everything to disappear. A soft chant escapes her lips. Fragile. Desperate. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

The silence that follows is almost palpable. Heavy. The only sound is the soft patter of paws on the tiled floor, growing louder as they approach. Suddenly, she feels the bed dip next to her head. The cat's weight presses into the pillow. Before she can react, the tuxedo cat tugs at the edge of the blanket, pulling it back just enough to reveal her face.

"Stop playing around, Human," the cat says impatiently. "We gotta scram before they find you."

Her eyes snap open, her heart hammering in her chest. The weight of reality—or whatever this is—crashes down on her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless. 

"Who?" [Name] croaks out, barely above a whisper. "Who's coming to get me?"

The cat lets out a huff, a sound that might have been a purr if it wasn't laced with annoyance. "Do you really want to find out?" His tone is sarcastic like the answer should be obvious.

[Name] shakes her head slowly, her body unable to process the fear and confusion fast enough. She barely understands what’s happening, but something deep inside warns her that whoever—or whatever—is coming for her won’t be friendly. Sensing her resignation, the cat sits back on his haunches, his green eyes glinting with satisfaction.

"Good," the cat says with a slight nod. "The name's Spots, by the way. Not that you bothered to ask."

Another silence settles between them, until [Name] realizes Spots is waiting for her to get up. She stills for a moment, weighing her options. 

She could stay here, close her eyes, and hope this dream fades into nothingness. Maybe everything is just a product of her exhausted mind. A hallucination caused by trauma and stress. Maybe, if she holds on long enough, she’ll wake up in the real world, back to the life she knows. However, something tells her this doesn’t end with a simple waking.

The next best solution is that she could believe what’s happening. As impossible and terrifying as it seems, she could trust the cat—or at least trust that he knows more than she does. [Name] could just ignore the absurdity of a talking cat and follow him, because the alternative is facing whoever is coming for her alone. Zayne might return, but even that possibility feels unsettling. There’s too much confusion between them, and she doesn’t know if she could handle his reaction if he discovers what she’s beginning to accept: that she doesn’t belong here.

But Spots knows. He knows something about her situation. He knows what’s coming. And right now, that makes him the only source of guidance she has.

A frustrated heave escapes her as she finalizes her decision.

"Fuck it," she mutters.

Against her better judgment, [Name] slides out of bed, her legs no longer shaky as she drags the IV pole with her. She crouches down to pick up her clothes and combat boots. She glances back at Spots. He's swinging his tail lazily, eyes closed, a Cheshire grin permanent on his fluffy face.

Like ripping off a bandage, [Name] grits her teeth as she yanks the IV tube from her arm. The sharp sting makes her wince, but she pushes through the pain. She's quick to regain her composure. Without hesitation, she slips out of her hospital gown and into her military uniform. The fabric is stiff with dried blood, a cruel memento of her death.

But as she dresses, a disturbing thought begins to nag at her. If this is a dream, then… will she wake up back on the battlefield? Back in the grassy outskirts, far from the perishing city, fighting some meaningless war? Did she really want to go back to that? Can she even go back to that?

Her hand instinctively drifts to her heart, to the spot where the bullet pierced her. Her fingers brush over the dried blood. The hole in her uniform is the only proof of her last moments. She sighs and shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted thoughts. No. The mere thought of waking up back there—back in the war—terrifies her more than this new reality ever could.

Moving to the sink, she grabs a paper towel and runs it under cold water. Carefully, she dabs at the bloodstain, trying to clean it, but the water only spreads the mess. A frown tugs at her lips as she realizes her mistake. Spots hop down from the bed, noticing her frustration, and he is far too impatient to wait. He strolls over to her and stretches his paws against her leg, nudging her to pick him up.

Taking the hint, [Name] heaves and scoops the plump tuxedo cat into her arms, holding him close to her chest. Conveniently, Spots’ round body covers the bloodstain on her uniform.

"Ready?" Spots ask.

He gestures toward the closed door with his head, his green eyes narrowing to urge her forward.

Reluctantly, she nods and moves toward the exit of her hospital room. Her hand wraps around the cold doorknob, but then she hesitates. Frozen with uncertainty. Afraid of the unknown guaranteed outside this small, contained room. Her fingers still on the knob as she takes a shallow breath.

"Human," Spots purrs. It's a soothing rumble against her heart. "It's okay. Whatever happens, you have me now. You're not alone in this."

[Name] presses her lips into a tight line, reassured by the cat’s comforting words. Something about his presence, about his gentle confidence, calms her. It doesn’t make sense, but she doesn’t care to question it. Right now, she craves stability, no matter how strange the source. 

Without another word, she pulls the door open and peeks her head out. She scans the hallway. The sterile, quiet corridor stretches out in both directions. Unbeknownst to her, that first step beyond the door will set a chain reaction of events into motion, incidents and experiences that will shift the story she once knew, casting her into a role she never imagined playing.

"Here goes nothing," she whispers, stepping into the unknown.

ao3 // masterpost // prev // next

[sorryfucker]

my butchlander hyperfixation is still alive and well, so much so that i’ve SOMEHOW written a seven chapter fic about them

you can read the first chapter (a prologue, really) of “salvation’s paradox” here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62099287/chapters/158828605

[readingcherik]

let us fall, let us fight by orphan_account

“I don’t have a head injury, do I?” “No. You were…” Erik searches for the words. He can’t be the one to say this. He is the only one who can say this. He owes it to Charles to say this. “You had surgery. You were… are… badly hurt.” “Well, I must be alright now. I don’t feel a thing.” Oh, Charles, Erik thinks, biting back a hysterical laugh, that’s precisely the point. -- In which Erik and Charles are frustratingly human, Charles ends up in the wheelchair in a car crash, and they try to make it alright.

[andreafmn]

Keep You Safe | Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: After Laura Hale seemingly vanishes, Derek Hale returns to Beacon Hills to investigate his sister’s disappearance and what called her back home, leaving his younger sister, (Y/N) Hale, in New York waiting for further instruction. But when a month has passed, and she hasn’t heard anything new, (Y/N) packs up what little they have in the Big Apple and heads to sunny California in search of her siblings. Going back to the place where she lost everything is harder than she could ever imagine, yet there are people she will meet that will make the heartache all worth it. Will (Y/N) be able to open herself to love after meeting the elusive Erica Reyes? Or will the pain of her past put her in more danger than she can handle?

Masterlist

Loneliness was something (Y/N) Hale knew too much about. 

The only thing she knew more about was loss. At just ten years old, she had suffered the loss of almost her entire family. In the blink of an eye, she became an orphan and the youngest of the Hale siblings to survive the house fire.

The girl had watched with her very eyes the way everything she knew ignited in red-hot flames. Unlike her two oldest siblings, she and Cora were home since they weren’t the biggest fans of after-school activities. They would always joke about how they already spent eight hours there; why would they voluntarily sign up for more? She would have never thought she would yearn to be stuck at school playing basketball or volleyball. Hell, she would have even settled for chess. 

She should have seen the attack coming. What good were her werewolf abilities if she didn’t make use of them? Granted, the girl had not thought she would be close to death that night. 

(Y/N) was in her room, headphones on and her music blasting to shut off the sounds of the world. It was something she did regularly, especially when her mother had people over. She would have never imagined she would hate music more than that night. With her nose stuck in a book and a song screaming in her ears, she didn’t know what was happening right below her. 

Suddenly, the air felt thicker. As though she was having an allergic reaction, she couldn’t breathe right. Her lungs constricted, and her throat felt like it was closing. But it wasn’t until she saw the thick smoke and smelled fire that she knew something was truly wrong. When she ripped the headphones from her ears, she heard a sound she would never forget—her family screaming and crying, begging for help. 

But it didn’t matter how much she wanted to help. Her vision blurred, and her breathing was staggered. Wolfsbane was in the air, that much she knew to be true, and it was impairing her every move. The girl stumbled onto the floor, landing with a loud thud as she fell from her bed. She dragged herself across the wooden floor, feeling heat seeping through from the first floor. She had to get out, but she didn’t know how. With the poisoned air running through her body, (Y/N) didn’t know how she would make it out of the house in time, if she even could. 

Slowly, she heard less and less screams from under her, and fear flowed through her body like it belonged there. She wanted to scream, call out for her mother to help her, but no sound left her mouth. Her eyelids were growing heavy as sleep threatened to overtake her. And maybe if she gave in, death would hurt a lot less. All she had to do was give in. 

Yet, someone would not let her. 

(Y/N) felt herself being jostled awake. She had collapsed just at the edge of the staircase, reaching out to salvation. But she didn't remember ever closing her eyes. When she awoke, she couldn’t hear any more screams, only the sounds of the flames eating everything in their path. 

“Come on, (Y/N),” she heard a voice say. “We gotta get you out, kid.” 

“U-uncle Peter?” the girl croaked as her eyes finally focused enough to make out his face. “You g-gotta go.” 

“We have to go,” Peter said. “Come on, just hold on to me, kid.” 

The girl wrapped her arms around her uncle’s, allowing him to lift her off the ground and shield her from the fire. She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of familiarity and ash that coated his skin. The girl didn’t dare to lift her gaze from Peter’s neck, scared to face what was left of her childhood home. She knew they had reached the basement when the smell of burned bodies reached her, making her stomach turn and bile rise through her throat. 

“Don’t open your eyes, (Y/N),” her uncle whispered as he cradled her head closer to him. “We’re almost out.”

But she couldn’t help herself. In the midst of the roaring flames, all she could see were bodies upon bodies scattered across her basement floor, being consumed by the fire that didn’t seem to want to stop. Finally, her eyes fell on the one person she thought would be with her for many more years. 

The brown eyes of her mother were burned into her memory. (Y/N) couldn’t tell if she was already dead or close to. But she was almost sure when her mother’s eyes fell on hers, they looked relieved. 

After that, she couldn’t remember a single thing.  

That night became the one constant nightmare she always had. No matter how a dream started, it would always end in the greatest disaster of her life. For some time, she forced herself awake, too scared to face what had happened. But as she grew, the need for answers kept her in the land of dreams. She tried to remember what happened after she looked into her mother’s eyes. Because of Derek, she knew she had somehow made it to the high school through the vault, but neither knew how she had gotten the burn on her arm and how it wasn’t worse. She couldn’t remember if she ever saw Cora, and she definitely did not remember how Peter made it out. Every night, (Y/N) would try to remember, and every night, she would wake with Talia’s eyes softening with relief. 

For almost seven years, it had always been the same dream—a locked memory she couldn’t decipher. It lived in her mind, taunting as it closed itself off as the years passed. Derek and Laura had tried to save her from her guilt. They moved to the other side of the country to put distance between themselves and the tragedy, but the feeling followed them wherever they went. 

(Y/N) couldn’t lie. Her years in New York had helped her resolve some of her emotions, allowing her to continue with her life without remaining stuck in the fire. Although, she did close herself off from others. People around her didn’t understand why she didn’t have the same pep for life as other girls her age. They didn’t understand why she had to grow up quickly or why she rarely wanted to speak about herself. The only people who understood were her siblings, and even they didn’t understand the full extent of her sorrow. 

The three Hale siblings became closer than ever, relying on each other for companionship and compassion. None of them spoke of Derek’s part in the fire, nor did they speak of the eldest’s shame for not being home, and much less about the youngest’s guilt for surviving the fire almost completely unscathed. They were all they had in the world, and they would make sure they never felt alone. 

Until Laura was lured back home. 

“Don’t go,” (Y/N) had pleaded as she followed her sister around their apartment. “I have a bad feeling about this, Lo. Don’t go back.” 

“I have to, (Y/N),” the woman smiled, wiping away a tear the girl hadn’t known she had shed. “Whoever is there is calling to me—to us. I have to check it out, kid.”

“Something feels off, Laura,” the girl cried. “What if something happens to you?” 

“Look, I’ll call you all the time,” Laura promised. “I’ll call you at the airport, when I check into my hotel, when I go to the house, and when I’m on my way back. If you feel uneasy, you can text me at any time.” 

“Lo…” 

“I’m an alpha, (Y/N),” she grinned, cradling her sister's face and kissing her forehead. “I can handle myself.” 

Just as she had promised, Laura called (Y/N) every second she could: when she arrived at the airport, then as she boarded the plane, when she landed in California, and when she arrived at Beacon Hills. There was another when she settled in the hotel and a last one that day when she was going to sleep. The girl was informed of every step her older sister took, and it eased her anxieties—well, minimized them, at the very least. 

The next morning, Laura received three calls. The first was when she had awoken, the next was when she was on her way to their childhood home, and the last was when she had arrived. The last words (Y/N) ever heard from her older sister were. “Love you. Be good.” At that moment, she hadn’t known they would be the last, and her joking “Love you, but I won’t” had felt right at the time. 

But when the older Hale did not call back after more than five hours had passed, (Y/N) knew something was wrong. She dialed her sister’s number over and over, hoping the next call would be the one she would answer. Yet, she didn’t pick up a single time, and a choking chill took over. 

“Derek,” she worried to her brother as night rolled around. “Something’s wrong.” 

“She’s been gone for less than two days, (Y/N),” Derek sighed as he put his book down. “I bet she’s just tired of being stuck on the phone. She’ll call when she can.” 

“Can you at least try and give her a ring? Maybe she’ll answer you.” 

“Fine,” he said. “If it’ll make you feel better.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Derek pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing his older sister’s number. (Y/N) had always been a worrier, and after the fire, it had only intensified. As intense as it could get at times, he always tried to assuage her concern. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry herself to death. He was sure that a few words from Laura and their little sister would be able to sleep soundly that night. 

But his expression fell when the call went directly to voicemail, Laura’s pre-recorded voice blaring in his ear. 

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked. “Is she alright?” 

“Uh, it went straight to voicemail.” Panic spread across (Y/N)’s face at his words, and he knew her mind was going to the darkest place possible. “Look, she’s probably somewhere without reception. Signal is always spotty in that part of the woods.”  

“What if…?” 

“Let’s just give her until the morning, okay?” he said as he wrapped his arms around her, trying his best to keep his own concern from overflowing hers. “We’ll call her tomorrow, and everything’s gonna be okay. Go to bed, (Y/N). You’ve got school in the morning.”  

But when morning came, Laura’s phone kept going straight to voicemail. Even after ten calls, no one picked up. Maybe (Y/N) did have grounds for concern. It wasn’t normal for Laura to go more than a few hours without contacting them. An entire day was completely out of the ordinary. The younger Hale had yet to wake up when Derek had begun his calls and texts, and he wasn’t planning on telling her the news just yet. 

Instead, he called Laura’s hotel, asking if she was still checked in and had returned to the room that night. Of course, the woman who answered went through the classic spiel of their inability to give out personal information. But with a quick mention that he would simply call the police, she was more than happy to say Laura was still registered as a guest at the hotel, and her card had not been used to open her door since the morning of the day before. And with a thank you and a goodbye, Derek hung up, even more panicked than before. 

Soon enough, he was on his computer looking up flights to California for the next day or so and thinking of how to tell his little sister that maybe her intuition had been right. 

“Morning, Derek,” (Y/N) groggily said as she entered the kitchen, sleep still clinging to her eyelids. “Did you call Laura yet?” 

“Uh, I did,” he chuckled dryly. “No answer just yet, but I’m sure she’s just tired, (Y/N). Why don’t you get ready for school, and we’ll call her together when you get back?” 

(Y/N) stopped dead in her tracks, gripping the fridge door with a tightness that dented the handle. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Something happened to Laura.” 

“We can’t know for sure, (Y/N),” he offered. “Let’s just get you to school, and we’ll talk this afternoon.” 

“How am I supposed to be able to concentrate in school when I know something’s wrong? I can feel it, Derek. She should have never gone back home.”

“(Y/N), just try, please,” Derek sighed. “I’m gonna keep trying her phone and see if there’s anything I can find. But for the time being, just go be a kid. Please.” 

Of course, that was easier said than done. 

For six hours, all (Y/N) could think about was her sister. She had already lost so many people, and she couldn’t stand to lose one more. Her heart could not take another loss. 

From years in therapy, she had been told to quiet her mind when too many thoughts bombarded her. Anxiety could be a tricky mistress, and she’d often eat away at a person until nothing but a speeding heart was left. (Y/N)’s therapist had taught her the 3-3-3 rule—find three objects, listen to three sounds, and move three body parts. And it could work at times. But she had already found her notebook, her pencil, and her water bottle; she had listened to the teacher reading an excerpt of Crime and Punishment, the A/C unit above her, and the bird on the tree eighty feet away from her, and she had moved her neck, her arm, and her leg.  Still, the crippling concern remained carved in her mind. Something was seriously wrong; she could feel it deep in her bones. 

At two in the afternoon, everyone seemed to know she was desperate to get home. Her last teacher wouldn’t let them go even after the last bell. The foot traffic to the subway was impossible. The train was delayed four times. And she had to walk an extra eight blocks because the street to their apartment was closed. By the time she had gotten home, she was exhausted and would have jumped into her bed had Laura not been on her mind. 

“Before you ask, no. Laura hasn’t answered her phone,” Derek said as the door closed behind (Y/N), knowing the last thing his sister wanted was for him to beat around the bush. “I even tried her hotel three times today, and nothing.”

“Uh, what does… what does that mean, Derek? Is she in trouble?” 

“Well, I got a flight out to California,” he answered. “I’m gonna go check out what happened.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds right,” the girl muttered. “When do we leave?”

“No, (Y/N), you’re staying here.”

“You can’t be serious, Derek,” she exclaimed. “If something happened to her… if she is in trouble, you’re gonna need help. I can help.”

“I don’t know what’s going on yet, (Y/N),” he said. “I don’t even know if something happened to Laura. Here, you’re safe. Here, I don’t have to worry about where you are. I need you here and secure until I know what it is we are facing.”

(Y/N) could feel anger bubbling inside her. Being the little sister had never helped her. Through the years, instead of seeing her as the powerful werewolf she was, her siblings could only see her as a little kid. Long gone was the ten-year-old girl who had lost it all in a fire. She was sixteen already and old enough to face the dangers of the world. “You can’t just keep me here,” she said as she crossed her arms across her chest. “I can help, and you know it.”

“You can help by staying here, (Y/N).” 

“And what? Wait for you to disappear, too? Great plan, Derek,” the girl scoffed. “There’s no reason for me to stay here if both of you are back home. You’re just extending the inevitable.”

“This is not up for discussion, (Y/N),” Derek exclaimed, his tone coming out harsher than he had intended. “You are staying here. You are going to school, and that’s final.” 

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you can make the rules,” (Y/N) spat before she could stop herself. “As hard as you try, you’re not my father.” 

Before Derek could say anything else, the girl stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her before slumping on her bed. She knew she had been harsh. The words had rolled out of her tongue like they had lived there for the past six years, waiting for the day they would be evicted. (Y/N) understood why her brother was protective, but that never stopped her from trying to prove she could handle more than her siblings gave her credit for. 

As the relative silence of her room got to her, (Y/N) knew she had to apologize to her brother. Derek was only trying to keep her safe. Just like she was afraid of losing him, he was terrified of losing her. How could she be angry at him? 

“Hey, (Y/N),” Derek whispered as he cracked open the door. “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah,” she said, sitting up on her bed to make space for her brother. The bed sank where he sat; his warmth was a constant comfort and reminder that she wasn’t alone. “I was actually on my way to go talk to you.”

“Saved you a trip, then,” he chuckled. Derek took her left hand in his, ghosting over the burn mark that had yet to heal—the only physical reminder she had of the night she almost lost her life. “Look, I know you think I’m being overprotective or that I don’t believe in you. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, (Y/N). I know you’re strong, and I know you’re capable. I just want you somewhere safe. Here you’ll be far away from whatever trouble awaits in Beacon Hills.”

“I know. I’m sorry for what I said,” the girl sighed as she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. “I know you’re not trying to replace Dad, and you’re just trying to keep me safe. But I don’t want to be stuck here while you’re over there getting hurt. I want to help, Derek.” 

“You’re helping me by being safe,” he said. “I promise you, (Y/N), the second I can come back, I will. You just go to school and try not to worry about me.” 

“That’s impossible, and you know it,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Just keep me updated, okay? The second I don’t hear from you, I’m hopping on a plane.” 

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Derek laughed, hugging his sister closer to him. “Just give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll be back.” 

“A couple of weeks?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Just a couple of weeks, and you’ll see how everything is gonna go back to normal.”

A/N: this fic is dedicated to @sapphicwriternearby for requesting an Erica fic, I truly hope you enjoy how the story develops 🤍 If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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[wintermav]

Fic rec: YOU. YES, YHUGH! READ THIS NOW.

There are a lot of words in the English language, but not enough to describe how much I fucking love this ongoing poolverine series. Please send the author their flowers. Kudo the shit out of them and comment!

[moonsunarchive]

where'd you learn that?

Author: renniewren

Rating: explicit

Setting: college/university

Wordcount: 126,252

Summary:

Prince Park Jimin is flunking his math class. Royally. And since failing means not graduating on time and embarrassing his family (again), Jimin is driven to seek the help of his sworn enemy: STEM genius-slash-recluse, Jeon Jungkook. To his surprise, Jungkook offers to tutor Jimin, but he wants one thing in return—Min Yoongi. And to better his chances, the inexperienced Jungkook wants Jimin to guide him in all things dating and intimacy. Desperate, Jimin agrees. But their deal (and the idea of delivering Jungkook to someone else) gets tricky when Jimin realizes a jarring truth: Jungkook isn’t all that bad. Not at sex, or flirting. Or at being naturally charming. …or at making Jimin fall head over heels for him. It’s kind of a problem.

Comment: PERFECT. Sweet, funny, perfectly paced, with characters to die for.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Completed Chaptered AO3 Fics (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

A Different Man (ao3) - RhenNuggs

Summary: Dan is struggling to find love, but it is easier said than done when all he has is a long list of horrible exes. He doesn’t know if he will ever find love. That is, until he gets invited to an unexpected party that may forever change the course of his life.

A Game of Life (ao3) - Koolhotsweetloveberries

Summary: Daniel Howell, an honorable member of the King's Knighthood, does not expect much from his time at court. All changes when the court jester, Philip Lester, enters.

Babylon (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Just a little story about two boys realizing that they can make their own rules, and even if it's hard, they are worth it.

because we are fools (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: He realizes it calmly at first, and then suddenly with more clarity. He’s in love with Phil.

But he absolutely cannot be in love with Phil.

Brick by Brick (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne), embarrassing_myself

Summary: No one said having an unmated Alpha and an unmated Omega living under the same roof was going to be easy, but add in a mess of feelings and desire, and things go from bad to worse. When Phil Lester asked his best friend, Dan Howell, to move in with him, he thought he could ignore his feelings and refrain from submitting, but with an oblivious Dan scenting him every other day, he decides he has to put a stop to it. Jealousy and misunderstandings collide to throw their lives into chaos, forcing both men to reconsider their relationship. Will they ever get their happy ending, or will prevalent sexism force them apart?

Burning Bibles (ao3) - cherryheartz

Summary: phil lester loved curly headed boys with tattoos on their arms and a joint made with torn bible pages between their soft lips.

and dan howell was exactly that.

Butterfly (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: Phil Lester, a lonely writer, finds a dying boy with beautiful black wings on a cold, rainy night in a dingy alleyway. He recognizes the boy as one of the winged men hated by human society. They are considered to be wild, ferocious beasts, but Phil's sympathy forces him to help the boy.

What happens when the boy, considered to be a wild beast, gets too attached and follows him home with an innocent, dimpled smile?

Catch You on the Flipside (ao3) - Amorist (dead_on_the_inside)

Summary: Dan is holding himself together by the seams after running away from a religious cult. He has to ask himself why he keeps going, but deep down, he knows the answer already. It's the same answer it was long before his parents packed up and moved him to a thinly-veiled conversion camp in America—Phil.

Or, my excuse to write self-indulgent angst, because sometimes we need that.

Coffee by Chappell Roan (ao3) - danswideslit

Summary: someone on tumblr mentioned needing a dnp fic with the narrative from coffee and I felt inspired because I love that song a whole lot

Come along (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: In medieval England, a young knight rides north, sent to serve at the court of the quiet young Duke of Lancaster.

Deeper (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Inspired by the idea of "Pass Around Party Bottom Dan."

Don’t be scared (ao3) - danisnot3131

Summary: Before agreeing to go on Tour for Interactive Introvers, Dan is hit with the realization that he’s been in love with Phil for years.

I Fell For You (ao3) - TheWolfWithinMe

Summary: Dan's meant to be a good little Angel. Doing what Heaven wants. Following orders. Being the soldier they created.

But then he answers a prayer. From a certain blue-eyed boy so desperate for forgiveness that he's willing to die for it.

A fic about betrayal, freedom, friendship, love and that it's not 'where you're from' that matters but 'who you are.'

I try to picture me without you but I can't (ao3) - solarpower21

Summary: After Dan's tragic death, Phil starts having a bunch of strange dreams where he is still alive. But are they really just dreams?

Or: Phil's soul consciousness can't cope with Dan's death, so he starts hopping between different universes, trying to look for him.

Let Me Be Your Call Boy (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne), embarrassing_myself

Summary: After coming out as gay to his friends on his birthday, the last thing Dan is expecting is to be gifted a call boy as a present, let alone one that’s been paid for for the entire night. Allowing Phil to show him the ropes is his first mistake, paying him to come back every week is his second, and using him to convince his parents he really is gay is his third. As a successful lawyer, the money isn’t the problem - falling in love is.

life happens, coffee helps (and so do you) (ao3) - halfofacrackedbluesky

Summary: Dan makes friends with the barista at the local coffee shop.

Like a Bowl of Oranges (ao3) - cloej88

Summary: Dan has built a solid career for himself as a ghostwriter. He safely hides behind other people’s words, crafting their tales and pocketing the cash without any threat of notoriety. But lately he has been working on a book of his own, itching for a change.

Phil is an indie filmmaker who happened into some huge breaks over the last few years. He wants to use his influence to uplift queer stories for the screen, so he puts out an open call for story submissions. At his agent’s behest, Dan submits his story.

The writer!Dan and director!Phil friends/co-workers to lovers AU that we never knew we needed.

Live Incidentally (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: At thirty-two, Phil’s fine with this lot in life— manager for Printzoid, a flat he rents on his own in a relatively nice part of London, friends he sees at least twice a month for board game nights, an ex-fiancé he’s trying damn hard to get over, and a brother who means well even if Martyn doesn’t understand why Phil insists there’s a distinction between their father’s artwork being creative and Martyn’s music being creative and Phil’s novelty t-shirts being... not-creative.

A fic about adulthood and opening up.

Monochrome (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: When you build your life out of fear that your mental illness could worsen, it leaves little room for excitement. Luckily, Dan has found a space online where he feels comfortable.

My Sanctuary, You're Holy to Me (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Sister Daniel isn't very good at being a nun, but she's stuck living in a convent because she's got no other plans. The church needs a new priest for Sunday mass, and the responsibility falls on her to meet him for the first time. Will he see through her false devotion?

Sister Daniel/Father Philip convent au (Sister Daniel's origin story)

names of collision in the dark (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: Of enemy kingdoms, Prince Dan and Prince Phil meet one fateful night, leading to a surprising friendship that evolves into something more. As the looming threat of a major battle grows stronger, both princes grapple with their roles and the burdens of leadership, all while their growing bond forces them to confront their own kingdoms’ expectations and the possibility of peace in the chaos.

(aka the dan and phil royal au fic they wrote for the gaming channel but taken seriously)

Nothing Like a Storybook (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: University Of Manchester, 2009

Dan Howell is an aloof loner and Phil Lester a well-known weirdo. In theory they are worlds apart, but a chance post-party meeting under the Manchester moonlight sends their lives spiraling and soon they find they have a lot more in common than they thought.

Origins of the Phass Inflation Post (Dan and Phil in Greece) (ao3) - EverythingIsAsItWas

Summary: Dan and Phil rarely take vacations just for themselves, vacations in which they make no content, do not work, and simply enjoy each other's company. Going to Greece feels like the perfect opportunity for this, but Phil also thinks it's the perfect opportunity for a video... and Dan likes being a little shit.

Ready Player Two (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Their paths diverge for a time.

some killer queen you are (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan’s enjoyed taking a break from YouTube, but for some reason, he still feels like something is missing. Determined to fill the creative void in his life, he decides to try out something new: drag.

Someday (ao3) - philsdrill

Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

taking the veil (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: Twenty-two year old YouTuber Phillippa Lester accompanies her Dad on his trip to fulfill a commission to create a piece of art for a family friend who is living a monastic life in an abbey in the south of England. Angry at her parents and lacking other plans, eighteen-year old Dan Howell tags along with her grandma on an annual, summertime trip of her own: a two week secluded religious retreat at the same abbey.

The Phat (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: When Dan and Phil find an abandoned cat on a late-night walk to Dominos, Dan insists that they aren't going to keep him. After all, they know nothing about taking care of a pet. Dan will have the self control to put his foot down when faced with both Phil's big eyes and the cat's, right? ...Right?

Time is on our side (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: In 2010, AmazingPhil decided to make a video trying to time travel. He ends up meeting his boyfriend Dan in the year 2023 as well as himself, and he has a lot of questions.

voice on the wind (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: A life-changing injury leaves a desperate musician looking for a miracle. He finds it in the company of a Fae muse, but at what cost?

what, like it's hard? (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: title, obviously, from legally blonde

You are Not Sleeping on The Goddamn Floor (ao3) - pepelovesme

Summary: Dan and Phil's 2009 meeting reimagined. Dan is curious, they talk sexuality. Smut ensues.

[nearingdawn]

Crow: The legend of the Creekside killer

You can read it here 👉 Crow: The legend of the Creekside killer

This story is a collaboration between me and Max, with the moodboard and featured illustrations made by Thundermasters. It’s also loosely inspired by Ana’s lovely art and concepts, of course.

While this is a more wholesome take and Ian and Anthony are neither killers nor psychopaths in this version, they still start off as deeply broken and depressed individuals —so please be mindful of the heavy angst and tags.

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Completed Chaptered Ao3 Fic Masterlist

All Our Secrets Laid Bare (ao3) - firethesound Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron, Harry/OMC E, 149k

Summary: Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

All You Want (ao3) - senlinyu Hermione/Draco E, 172k

Summary: Eighth Year at Hogwarts was supposed to be Hermione’s. And it is, just not in the way she expects. Omegaverse fic.

All the Young Dudes (ao3) - MsKingBean89 Sirius/Remus M, 526k

Summary: LONG fic charting the marauders’ time at Hogwarts (and beyond) from Remus’ PoV - diversion from canon in that Remus’s father died and he was raised in a children’s home, and is a bit rough around the edges. Otherwise canon-compliant. 1971 - 1995

Best Friend's Brother (ao3) - bizarrestars Regulus/James, Sirius/Remus M, 329k

Summary: Regulus hates his brother—this is fact—and as his best friend, Remus would never betray him by falling in love with aforementioned brother.

Sirius hates his entire family—this is also fact—and as his best friend, James would never betray him by falling in love with a member of it.

The problem is, none of them are even aware that it's happening.

Bring Him to His Knees (ao3) - Musyc Hermione/Draco E, 246k

Summary: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting.

Devilish Romance (ao3) - Madriddler Draco/Harry, Draco/Harry/Blaise, Sirius/Remus E, 81k

Summary: Harry Potter, a warlock on the crux of his sixteenth birthday, is both excited and scared to become a full member of his coven. With more feminine interests than his peers, Harry is scared of being mocked and ridiculed, both for his interest, and being The Coward’s Son. Raised by his Uncles Sirius and Remus, Harry finds an unlikely friendship in fellow warlock Draco Malfoy, who has huge aspirations for both him and Harry: summoning a demon, and binding him to their service. They just wasn’t expecting on summoning the Son of the Devil

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love (ao3) - isthisselfcare Hermione/Draco E, 199k

Summary: Hermione straddles the Muggle and Magical worlds as a medical researcher and Healer about to make a big discovery. Draco is an Auror assigned to protect her from forces unknown – to both of their displeasure.

Features hyper-competent, fiery Hermione and lazy, yet dangerous, Draco. Slow burn.

Good Intentions (ao3) - Gloworm13 Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron, Seamus/Dean E, 382k

Summary: Draco’s been in love with Harry this whole time, finally confesses, and then forced proximity ensues. Angst, plot, spice, and sickly sweet fluff. This is everything you want: a story about queers, by a queer, for queers. PLEASE READ THE TAGS‼️

Evitative (ao3) - Vichan Draco/Harry T, 222k

Summary: In the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is drawn to a room in Grimmauld Place. Like the Gryffindor he is, he enters the room without fear. The room is a library, and Harry is surprised to find that he’s eager to learn.

Then he gets the bad news: he’s been accidentally expelled from Hogwarts, and he needs to be sorted again. Everyone is confident that he’ll go straight back to Gryffindor, but with what he’s been learning, Harry’s not so sure.

just lovers (like we were supposed to be) (ao3) - bizarrestars Regulus/James, Sirius/Remus, Marlene/Dorcas, Mary/Lily M, 321k

Summary: Regulus closes his eyes and shakes his head again, looking pained, then he opens them and sighs. "And your solution to this is me? Pretending to be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah. It's actually bloody brilliant, if you think about it. Everyone will leave happy. I'm going to fake date my way into falling in love," James announces grandly, sticking his hand out and waving it through the air like he's presenting a banner.

***

Or, the one in which James Potter wants to prove he'd be a good boyfriend to Lily Evans and comes up with the brilliant plan to fake date Regulus Black his way into falling in love. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.

Lily Evans and the Head Boy (ao3) - roaraf James/Lily T, 79k

Summary: Lily Evans’s final year at Hogwarts gets off to a bit of a rough start. Between NEWTs, her Head Girl duties, her ruined friendship with Severus Snape, and the obnoxiously dreadful Head Boy James Potter, she has little time to think about the looming threat of He Who Must Not Be Named and the evils that lurk outside the walls of the castle.

As the challenges that face the Wizarding World become more of a part of Lily’s life, she comes face-to-face with a side of James she’s never seen before and an unlikely partnership develops between them. Confronted with dangers beyond their years, Lily, James and their friends grow together into the courageous witches and wizards of the Order of the Phoenix.

Starts just before Lily and James’s 7th year and ends shortly after they leave Hogwarts.

Lily's Boy (ao3) - SomewheresSword Draco/Harry, Remus/Snape, Neville/Ginny, Sirius/Charlie E, 746k

Summary: Before his third year of Hogwarts has even begun, Harry faces three whole weeks of unsupervised time in Diagon Alley. In that time he takes a trip to Gringotts - and that changes everything.

Burdened with the knowledge that Dumbledore has been blocking his family magic, and manipulating far more than he ever thought possible, Harry doesn't know who he can trust; but he knows he can't keep going that way. There's a whole world of lore and politics and history to catch up on, and the more he learns, the more Harry realises his true place in the world, and how much is being kept hidden from him. All the while, Dumbledore's twinkling eyes are constantly watching, and Harry can't let on how much he knows.

With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans' son, and she was one hell of a witch.

Measure Of A Man (ao3) - inadaze22 Hermione/Draco E, 588k

Summary: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they’re capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man.

Only the Brave (ao3) - Solmussa Regulus/James, Sirius/Remus, Marlene/Dorcas, + more E, 645k

Summary: Regulus Black is angry. He wants revenge. He wants to watch the world burn for all it's done to him. He also wants to make out with James Potter, but that's a secret he'll take to the grave. Vengeance is more important than... whatever it is that chokes him when he lays eyes on Potter.

James Potter is confused, because Regulus Black is, all of a sudden, hot. And it's unfair because Sirius is going to kill him if he doesn't get his impulse control in line.

OR

A fic about two idiots falling in love (x2 because there's wolfstar, too) during a war, and the sacrifices they'll have to make to survive it.

Remain Nameless (ao3) - HeyJude19 Hermione/Draco, Harry/Ginny, Padma/Ron E, 312k

Summary: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore?

Teaching Miss Granger (ao3) - OracleObscured Hermione/Snape E, 473k

Summary: Hermione is caught out after curfew. Her punishment turns her world upside down.

The Cadence of Part-time Poets (ao3) - motswolo Sirius/Remus, James/Lily M, 979k

Summary: “They’re… chaos,” Remus said firmly. “And chaos is—” “Rock and roll.” He looked at Sirius sharply, and for once, matched his grin. “Yeah.” “Maybe that’s my excuse then,” Sirius said. “I cause a bit of chaos now, and maybe one day, it’ll turn into rock and roll.”

After losing his mother at age eleven, Remus has spent the better part of the last four years bouncing from school to school or else running around London and pretending as though he wasn't the kind of well-bred boy his father brought him up to be. Now, with his chances all run out, Remus is sent to Hawkings Independent School as a last-ditch effort to clean up his act. There he meets the very people who will set up the rest of his life, and is forced to confront the pieces of himself he'd long thought had been lost.

The Debt of Time (ao3) - ShayaLonnie Sirius/Hermione, Hermione/Remus, Remus/Tonks, Harry/Ginny, James/Lily E, 715k

Summary: When Hermione finds a way to bring Sirius back from the veil, her actions change the rest of the war. Little does she know her spell restoring him to life provokes magic she doesn't understand and sets her on a path that ends with a Time-Turner.

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy (ao3) - speechwriter Hermione/Draco M, 289k

Summary: The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand.

A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix.

The Right Thing To Do (ao3) - LovesBitca8 Hermione/Draco E, 174k

Summary: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl.

[rjthirsty]

Based off the otome game Ikemen Prince, I've created an AU where the princes are (mostly) female, and MC is male. Several character names have been changed to suit their new gender (notes will be provided), and lore has been altered to work with the new setting and my accompanying headcanons. Tags: Angst and Fluff, Violence, Sexual Themes You can find the masterlist for this series here. You can also find the full fanfic on my ao3, along with a full list of tags. The entire fic is roughly 100,000 words through 30 chapters, making it 3.5k words per chapter on average (8-10 pages in a standard novel).

Chapter 18 - A Love Never Intended (IkePri AU)

The next day dawned so bright and clear it was hard to believe it had been storming so heavily the night before. Rina came by to bring me breakfast and a message from Suriyel, it seemed she wanted me to join her in the throne room after I ate. I felt a bit anxious about the summons, especially with the request to meet in the throne room.

The only reason I could imagine she wanted to summon me there was because that’s where Beauty’s Time was located, so this was likely about making my final decision. And while I had spent days pondering, considering, and debating, I still hadn’t come to a conclusion. I knew that part of the reason was because I was attempting to make certain my personal feelings weren’t involved.

But after last night…

Remembering the way Leanne and I held onto each other in the rain made my heart flutter and my cheeks heat up. I may not have said the words exactly, but I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. I was absolutely, unequivocally in love with Leanne. I had never felt something so strong, and sometimes painful, and so full that I was worried my chest might burst if I let that feeling run free.

I sighed softly as I set my hand on my heart, feeling the way it raced just from thinking about her. Letting that feeling carry me through breakfast, I finished quickly and made my way to the throne room.

When I arrived, I was surprised to see it wasn’t only Suriyel in the lavish and majestic room. Leanne gave a small start when I walked through the door, clearly she was as surprised to see me as I was her. Jean was standing next to Suriyel, neither woman giving away anything as they waited for me to come fully into the room. I took a spot next to Leanne, facing Suriyel and Jean, Beauty’s Time and the throne were a solemn backdrop that somehow felt intimidating.

Leanne was the first to speak up. “It’s rare to see the two of you together, what’s the occasion?”

“Of course, Princess Leanne,” Suriyel addressed her while Jean remained quiet. “I wanted to inquire with Emmit if he required any more assistance in coming to his decision for the next to be crowned in Rhodolite.” She turned her violet eyes and that smile of hers that still sent a shiver down my spine on me, and waited for my response.

I glanced past her to where Beauty’s Time sat in its glass dome, two-thirds of its petals gone. In my mind, I instantly thought of Leanne, the way she laughed with her siblings, the way she encouraged me so easily, and the way she treated everyone with respect. I was certain that Leanne could protect our kingdom and lead us to peace. Chevalier’s words then replayed in my head, about her goals to create an everlasting peace by joining all the countries together.

It wasn’t that I thought Chevalier’s ideals were wrong, if anyone could achieve the high-aiming ambitions she had, it would be her. But I couldn’t ignore how much sacrifice there would be along the way for the people of our kingdom, and that was what had given me pause every time I considered it.

“There is someone that I believe I can entrust the future of Rhodolite to.” I said definitively, but the image of Leanne staring up at the sky and how lonesome she looked came back to me, stopping me from actually saying her name out loud. If she were to lead Rhodolite, I knew she’d manage to find a way to keep sacrifices to a minimum, but what would the cost be to her? “But I’d like a little more time to be sure I can trust what I’m feeling. Would that be okay?”

Suriyel nodded once, “Yes, of course. There is still time before the last petal falls, and I would like you to be certain of your choice.”

I felt a rush of relief at how easy that was, and then I glanced over at Leanne.

“Wait… why is Leanne here? And Jean?” I looked over at Jean standing by Suriyel. If this was just about my decision, there was no need for the two of them to be called as well.

“Right, how about I take it from here?” Jean offered, giving Suriyel a look before taking a small step forward to address Leanne and me. “There’s something I thought you both needed reminding of.”

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. “Huh?”

“What is it, Jean?” Leanne articulated the question much more eloquently.

“Emmit, do you remember the covenant that you signed on the day you were chosen to be Belle?” Jean asked me.

Of course I did, but… the memory of that night came back and how many pages the covenant was, and just how tiny the text was. Rina was waiting on me at the time, and so much had happened, and the text was so dry and formal, and… I had really intended to go back and read it later, but never got around to it.

“Er…” I didn’t know how to really answer that. I felt like I was missing something that was buried in those pages and I didn’t want to say that I remembered whatever it was and find out I had overlooked it.

Suriyel’s creepy pleasant smile dipped for a moment as she fluttered her eyes in a series of quick blinks at the non-answer I had provided. “I will pretend I did not hear that. Allow me to refresh your memory.”

Suriyel snapped her fingers, and just like last time half a dozen servants appeared out of nowhere, carrying a table into the room to sit in front of me, setting Jean and Suriyel on one side and Leanne and me on the other. The table soon was stacked with several pages piled high with impossibly tiny text, in the exact same way they had before. It was still weird the way they showed up with a snap and disappeared just as quickly and I wondered all over again if they were following her around waiting for her to snap her fingers.

“Oh! No, it’s okay, Suriyel! I do remember, I signed it right here.” I assured the minister of the court– the King’s Regent who was looking even more devilish than normal.

“I am relieved that your memory of the event is not entirely lost.” She smiled threateningly sweetly. “Although, I am certain I could have found a way to make you remember if necessary.”

“I didn’t forget!” My voice broke in my rush to convince her. “I won’t ever forget! So whatever you’re imagining, put it out of your head for good, please.”

“Emmit… I’m guessing you didn’t read this all the way through. Am I right?” Jean nodded towards the covenant sitting between us.

I tried to offer an apologetic smile, knowing I was guilty of skimming through most of it. “Yeah…”

“Right, you see, when you signed the covenant, you weren’t just agreeing to be Belle, you were agreeing to abide by all the clauses written within it. All ninety-nine of them.”

“And having signed the covenant, you are required to abide by every single clause.” Suriyel interjected. “If by chance you should breach even a single one of these clauses… you can expect to face very harsh punishment.”

I don’t like that look, Suriyel!

“Wait, hang on– are you saying that I’ve breached a clause without even knowing it?” This was not looking good. I had avoided Suriyel’s special brand of training and punishment thus far, but it seemed I might have made a mistake by never getting back to reading the covenant.

“Have you already forgotten what Princess Jean said at the start?” Suriyel answered. “You were summoned here to be reminded of something.”

I blew out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry about clauses one to ninety-eight, you can read them later.” Jean moved towards the table and shifted the papers to reveal the last page. “Right now, I want you to read the very last clause.”

She stepped back as I peered at the page. I felt Leanne move closer as well to look at the last clause in the covenant.

“Clause 99: Once the selection process is concluded, Belle is forbidden from having any further contact with the chosen crowned ruler in any capacity.”

My heart thudded painfully as I stared down at the words on the page.

But that means–

Without thinking, I looked up at Leanne, and our eyes met and held. She looked as stunned as I felt, and I wondered if she was feeling the same odd mix of disbelief and quiet panic. I had just promised her I’d stay. What were we supposed to do about this, now?

“Judging by your reactions, it would seem you were both equally unaware.” I quickly snapped my gaze to Suriyel who was observing the both of us. “But I suppose it’s not unlike you to gloss over the minor details, Princess Leanne.”

“Clause ninety-nine means it was the one most recently added to the covenant, right?” Leanne responded. “But why?”

“Suriyel and I added it.” Jean leveled a serious gaze at Leanne.

“Oh, right. Now I get it.” Leanne muttered.

I wasn’t getting it, though. They were having a conversation about things I wasn’t aware of, I was keenly aware that I was missing information to fully understand what was going on.

Leanne must have noticed my blatant confusion because she turned to address me. “We didn’t avoid this topic on purpose, it just never came up, but… Jean’s mother was the previous Belle.”

Once again, my eyes went to the other side of the table where Jean was standing. Jean was the first princess, and if her mother was the previous Belle… “Are you saying the king and Belle fell in love?”

“That’s basically how it went. Although it wasn’t anywhere as sweet as what you’re probably imagining. Nobody approved of them falling in love, see.” Jean recounted the events that led to her birth in such a calm tone it was as if it had nothing to do with her.

“While the former king and my mother had fallen in love, many in the royal court weren’t too happy about Belle’s commoner roots. This caused some discord on its own, she wasn’t accepted as part of the royal court. On top of that, several people were pushing for a political marriage between the king and a noblewoman who later became Chevalier’s mother.”

“Eventually, the harassment caused Belle to flee the palace, though she was already pregnant.” Jean gave a shrug and flicked her hand towards herself to indicate who the child was. “So I was actually born somewhere else, and it was something of a whim that brought me back here later.”

“It was due to this that His Majesty The King grew ill - not in body, but in spirit - and became almost like a different person.” Suriyel continued the story. “He was so changed that some in the court mocked him and called him a fallen beast.”

My heart squeezed painfully. I stared in shock at how tragic the story– no, this was real life; I was shocked at how tragic the love that brought Jean into the world was. I had read several stories about royal marriages, and while I was aware that marriage meant something different to royalty, I still liked to think that love would prevail. It was a comforting thought to believe in.

However, it wasn’t the case as Jean’s birth proved. Politics had won out over love, and it made sense, it really did, but I found it hard to swallow. 

“I think I understand.” I pressed my lips together to keep from expressing how torn up I was about this revelation. Not just for Jean, but because of Leanne. “You’re saying that you added Clause 99 to stop the same thing from ever happening again.”

“Got it in one.” Jean confirmed.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Everyone stood motionless. My thoughts were so loud I didn’t even notice what anyone else was doing and I had to assume they were all working through their own thoughts like I was. I glanced down at the covenant, looking at the last page, at that clause that had changed everything in an instant, and I bit my lower lip.

“Jean, Suriyel, why did you decide to remind me about this now?” I looked up to meet both of their gazes head on. I knew, but I didn’t know how much THEY knew. Seeing as how Leanne was also here, they had some sort of inkling of who this involved.

“Emmit…” Jean sighed gently, a pitying sound. “I think you know the answer to that better than anyone.”

She was right. I DID know better than anyone. I had been wrestling with it day in and day out for some time– I wasn’t even sure when it had started.

“Look, at the end of the day, I don’t care who you choose as the next ruler. I know you’ll choose well.” Jean’s compliment and trust in my decision was a poor salve for the words that were etched into my heart and marked in the covenant. “But when you’ve fulfilled your duty, you’re to leave the palace and never come back. I’m sure that’ll make you happiest.”

“Okay, stop right there, Jean. You’ve said more than enough.” Leanne interrupted sounding angrier than I’ve ever heard her. I didn’t have the heart to look at her, but I could hear the fury in her voice. “I get that you’re doing this in an attempt to stop Emmit from suffering the same heartbreak your mother did, but don’t go acting like you’re the one who gets to define what happiness means for Emmit.”

I couldn’t even manage a ‘thank you’ in my head for Leanne stepping in. I was wondering if Jean was right, if that would lead to the best outcome for us all? I had known all along that Leanne and I were not compatible when it came to social standing. I had fought off my feelings because of that. And now that I was nearly positive to choose her as the next queen, marriage was about to become a matter of politics and every choice she’d make would affect the kingdom. I knew that… Still…

“Fine.” Jean retorted, sounding angry in her own right. “What do you suggest, then? Do YOU know what’s best?”

“I think that’s quite enough, you two.” Suriyel warned. If I hadn’t been so swept up in my own internal turmoil, I would have appreciated how Suriyel somehow managed to cow the two of them with one sentence that was more suggestion than threat.

“I’m sorry, but…” I kept my eyes downward, my voice steady but just barely. “I’d like to be alone for a little while, if you don’t mind.”

No one said anything at first. I imagined they were all looking at each other, holding a silent conversation on who was to leave.

“...Fine.” Leanne answered, and I heard her moving towards the door. Jean followed behind her, a lazy stride to her steps. I assumed Suriyel left as well, but with how she slipped around the palace like a specter, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had just faded into the shadows in the throne room itself. Eventually the door shut and silence returned.

I was alone.

My boots thudded loudly in the empty room as I moved towards the wall, suddenly feeling too tired to even keep standing on my own. I slumped against the cold stone and covered my face with my hand, trying to keep the emotions I’d been holding on to tightly from escaping without my permission.

When I first agreed to be Belle, it never occurred to me, even for a second, that I might fall in love with someone here. I had spent my entire life wondering if there was a love out there for me that would make me desperate and willing to sacrifice everything for. I had no reason to think that I’d find it with a princess. I had no reason to think it would ever happen.

I had known that as Belle, it was my job to get to know the royal family - all the candidates - and judge them equally and impartially. It had seemed so obvious that getting too close to any of them would cloud my judgment, and so the idea of falling in love had seemed absurd.

I sank to the floor and curled my knees up to my chest. Hugging my arms around my knees, I pressed my face into my folded arms. My eyes were burning hot and I dared not open them.

Now, though… 

The second I had read Clause 99, all I could think about was Leanne. The idea of never seeing her again terrified me beyond all reason. I felt like I was losing a part of me that I had only just found. Like she was the final piece of me to make me feel whole, and without her I wasn’t ever going to be complete.

I had wished to know what it felt like to experience a torrential downpour of emotions, to be swept away by the floodwaters of desire; and now that I had come to know it, even just momentarily–

It hurts so much.

There was nothing that I could do in this situation. I was so helpless and hopeless, and every thought that surfaced was just another bittersweet thorn piercing my heart.

[psycho-pills]

A Second Life for Strays! ฅ (•˕ •マ.ᐟ sylus x reader fanfic // next

౨ৎ⭑˚ RATING; 18+ (minors do not interact)

౨ৎ⭑˚ PAIRING; sylus x afab!reader (not the mc)

౨ৎ⭑˚ SYNOPSIS; you are a soldier reincarnated into the world of love and deepspace, except you’re not the mc. she still exists. despite looking exactly like her, you don’t sound or act the same. and to make things stranger, cats follow you everywhere.

౨ৎ⭑˚ GENRE/WARNING; angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, (mutual?) pining, eventual fluff, eventual romance, eventual smut, cursing, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, mental breakdowns, ptsd, death, isekai, reincarnation, cats/cat puns, mc is named serenophe to avoid confusion/reader is not mc

౨ৎ⭑˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE; this is written in third-person limited with she/her pronouns. only the prologue is written in second-person. i use the terms [name] [surname] instead of (y/n) (y/ln) because it's easier for me to write. also, this chapter is basically the synopsis but fleshed out. you can skip the prologue and go to the first chapter, and you won't miss much. anyway, please take all of this into consideration before continuing. besides that, enjoy. uwu

౨ৎ⭑˚ LINKS; ao3 // masterpost // story inspo

prologue — eight lives later! ౨ৎ⭑˚ word count; >1k

You died.

You feel the impact before you hear the gunshot. A sharp, searing pain tears through your chest like fire spreading through your body. The chaos of modern warfare surrounds you—vibrating explosions, the rumbling of rifles, and the constant murmur of drones. You’re one of thousands. A faceless statistic in a war of shifting fronts and political ambitions. Merely a soldier sent to fight for a cause you barely understand. After your death, your country will replace you ten times over and then ten times more. Each body a cog in an unfeeling machine.

The moment feels weird, as if it has been pulled from the pages of a dream, except you know—you know—this is the end. You lie dying on a grassy field, far from the main warzone. It hasn’t been the ‘enemy’ that caused you to run across the open streets. It wasn’t the orders barking through your earpiece or the desperate cries of your comrades. 

No. It was a cat.

Your final act of rebellion was focused solely on rescuing the tiny bit of humanity left in the desecrated city. In a world that has taken so much from you, perhaps it was time to give this small creature the chance you never got. The kitten is small, dirty, and terrified. Its tiny frame trembles as it meows helplessly in the chaos. Artillery pounds the earth, drones buzz like mechanical insects, and gunfire split echoes in your ears. With rapid shots tearing through the streets and your radio spitting orders to regroup, your legs move on instinct. You dart past the ruins of cars, decaying walls, and flying shrapnel. Like a drug, adrenaline pumps through your veins as you scoop up the cat and cradle it in your arms.

As you dash through the ruined landscape, you feel hands grasping at your feet. Soldiers, either too wounded or mindfucked, cry out for salvation that you can’t offer. You run past them, their voices heavy on your soul. But you keep running—towards the outskirts, where the fighting isn’t as intense—where there’s a chance the kitten can escape the horrors of humankind. However, just as you think you’ve made it, you feel it—the bullet tearing through your body.

Your knees buckle as the force sends you crashing, the kitten still cradled in your arms. The world around you spins. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, faster and faster, as the warmth of your blood soaks into your uniform and spreads across the grass beneath you. You gasp for air, but it won’t come. The pain in your chest is unbearable, burning with every shallow breath.

You try to move, try to keep going, but your body is failing you. Rolling onto your back, your eyes gaze upon the strikingly blue sky. It’s strangely devoid of clouds and fighter jets. By now, the gunfire and explosions are faint. A vague memory, even. It’s like the war itself is retreating from you. Yet, you can still hear it. Bated screams in the distance, clashing with the rustling of leaves and the soft meows of the kitten.

The last feeling—the last sensation of kindness you feel before drifting off to an eternal slumber is the soft brush of fur nudging your tear-strained cheek. Then, just before everything goes dark, you hear it—a voice, delicate and clear.

“Thank you,” the kitten says—or does it? Perhaps it’s a hallucination brought on by your fading consciousness. But no, you feel sure, if only for that single instant.

Then, there’s nothing. Your final breath leaves you with the warmth of the cat’s nuzzle lingering on your cheek. You died.

Or so you thought.

When your eyes open again, you aren’t greeted with the battlefield. Your body isn’t lying on the cold, blood-stained grass. You’re in a hospital bed. It's clean. Sterile. The sharp beeping of monitors replaces the din of war, and the scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. You blink, disoriented, and that’s when you see him. A man—tall, composed, and black-haired. He holds a file in one hand and a pen in the other as he stands at your bedside. His name tag glistens in the fluorescent light. Zayne. When he notices you stirring alive, his face dances between surprise and something else. Something hard to decipher.

“You’re awake.” Zayne glances at your file. He squints to confirm your identity. “I’m Dr. Zayne, and you’ll be under my care for the foreseeable future,” he finishes.

The room around you is strange yet familiar. You try to make sense of it—the stark white walls, the quiet thrum of machines, the feathery sensation of your body. You were on the battlefield. You had died. And yet, you’re still here. Alive. In some new reality where the boundaries of love and deepspace collide.

ao3 // masterpost // next

[luhans-cumstained-body]

misery loves company 🎀

fandom(s) ; exo pairing ; lu han x oh sehun (hunhan), lu han x park chanyeol (chanlu) summary ; abuse was all lu han grew up knowing, so when he found himself a boyfriend who showed him kindness and love, he thought - for just a moment and in spite of his father - things might finally turn around for him. but things had a tendency to go from bad to worse for lu han. wordcount ; n/a content ; large cock, daddy kink, anal sex, unhappy ending, blow jobs, dacryphilia, cum swallowing warnings ; rape, father/ son incest, child abuse, sexual abuse, underaged (brief), physical abuse, homophobia

read the full thing on ao3 - here ! there's a small preview of the first chapter under the cut.

Lu Han couldn’t remember when the beatings started, just that he had been too young to have any recollection of it. Chanyeol, his father, had a short fuse. If he felt stressed about work, he would take it out on Lu Han. Not right away, but Lu Han figured out the connection. If Chanyeol had a bad day, it took less to anger him. It was as if he was waiting for Lu Han to mess up. Make a little mistake that had Chanyeol justify raising his hand at him. That was usually what he did. He would use his hands, only on special occasions when Lu Han got a little older would he start using suitable items that were within reach. Chanyeol’s favorite one had been his belt. Lu Han figured as much because of the smug, self-satisfied look he would have on his face when it struck Lu Han. The satisfying snap!, especially if it was against Lu Han’s naked skin. Lu Han hated that the most. When he would anger Chanyeol, when he wasn’t wearing clothes thick enough to take away some of the pain, or when he was wearing something that didn’t cover enough. Like a t-shirt or shorts, or when he was just in his underwear. Even the ability to wear t-shirts or shorts started feeling like a rarity. Lu Han bruised easily, and was made to cover up his marks of what was going on at home. Lu Han wanted to hide it himself, feeling ashamed of it. Like others would think he had deserved it, because that was the kind of thing his dad would tell him. That if he just behaved, he wouldn’t have to do this. Others would see what a prissy little princess he is too, and think Chanyeol was in the right. Lu Han believed it. ...

[readingcherik]

Various Storms & Saints by hllfire

Charles Xavier is interned in a psychiatric hospital thanks to the voices he had heard ever since he was a child, believed to be a schizophrenic man. He knows well now that those voices aren't in his own head, that he can control those voices, even if it takes its toll on him when he does so, and he learned to call the hospital his home after years. Things change, however, when a new patient arrives who can block Charles out of his mind — the first in the telepath's life —, catching his attention immediately.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 27

Word Count: 3.6K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

<- Previous | Next ->

Hiding had been in vain. And the worst part was that Henry should have known it would be. They had stayed still for far too long, and it was only a matter of time before they got to them. The only way he would ever be able to stay in the dark from the hunters and his family was by being six feet under. 

“What do you want, Rebecca?” His gun was aimed directly at the hunter, and the safety switched off. “Why are you here?”  

“Well, I'm here for you, of course,” she smiled deviously. There was no fear in her eyes or any tremble in her voice. She had the upper hand, and she knew it. Rebecca had all the power, the hunters at her beck and call, his future in her hands; all she had to do was find him. And she did. “You were a hard one to find, Henry Argent. But you screwed up. I guess congratulations are in order.”  

His breath hitched in his throat at her words as he remembered. The crib. He had felt safe, and he should have known safety was nothing but a façade when it came to the Argents. He would never be out of the hunters’ claws as long as his father was alive.  

“You picked a beautiful one, by the way,” she continued, using his regret as the tactic to get in his head. “And by that mobile, I think it’s safe to assume you’re having a girl, right?”   

“I’m not gonna play your games, Rebecca,” he scoffed. “Tell me what you want.”  

The woman let out a soft chuckle as she started to walk around while she spoke. “I was really mad when you left us high and dry up in Fort Kent. You have no idea how many hours and manpower it took to make a credible case,” she groaned. “It was all going perfectly until you decided to switch things up at the last second. I knew we shouldn't have left you in your own car, but I also didn't count on there being an extra SUV at the house.” 

The laugh she let out echoed through the expanse of the woods, filling Henry's ears with the haunting sound. “There wasn't much I could do at that point, and I told your father that the night we got there—not that there is ever space to reason with the man,” Rebecca continued, knowing she had all the time in the world to tell her story. Henry knew what she could do, and he wasn't going to do something to pull out the darkness in her. “Still, he told me to move forward with the plan, and that turned to shit. The minute you disappeared I had to leave the group. See, I got the idea to make it seem like both of us had escaped; try and paint the picture that we wanted to leave the hunter life behind and be together—the kind of sob story that everyone just eats up. I was definitely not planning on you finding your high school girlfriend and getting her pregnant. You sure do work fast.”  

“How do you know it's her?”  

“I've been watching you, Henry. I didn't just happen to find you last month buying the crib and just decided to pop in,” she grinned. “I've been watching you and your bitch all this time. You two are cute, I'll admit that—a beautiful couple, really. It's a real shame I must break up this picturesque family.”  

“What do you actually want, Rebecca?” Henry growled. “Why are you here?”  

“I'm here to make you an offer.” 

“And what's stopping me from gunning you down right now, taking Raina and my baby, and disappearing?”  

“Well, nothing really,” the woman shrugged. “But if I don't send word in an hour that I am okay, my team, your father, your brother, and they'll send all of them directly to you. My team is still here in Maine, just a couple of miles away. You won't be able to do anything about it.”  

“You could be lying.” 

“Want to call my bluff?” she laughed. “Go ahead, Henry. But you and I both know what I am capable of. Kill me and you and your little family go down with me.” 

He knew she was not joking. Rebecca was nothing if not determined, and he wasn't about to test just how far she would go. “Fine,” he grunted. “What do you want, then?”  

“Well, I think this is a conversation we need to have with your little girlfriend,” the woman said. “Or should I say your bride-to-be?”  

After searching any place Rebecca could have hidden weapons, Henry zip tied her hands and led her at gunpoint toward the cabin. Heads turned as they walked toward the house, uncertainty spreading like sickness. Silence befell the area as the pair of hunters walked between them. The man knew they were questioning ever trusting him. Yet, they weren’t the ones he was worried about.  

The Argent man knew Raina would be the first to question him, then would come Marcos. Everything he had done to gain their trust and bring them peace. The moment they saw him with Rebecca they would question ever believing in him. There would be no second chance. He would be deemed a traitor and everything would be over.  

“Who is this, Henry?” Raina was the first to speak as Henry pushed Rebecca into the office with the tip of his rifle. “Why is she tied up?”  

“This is Rebecca. The hunter I told you about.”  

Marcos sprung to his feet and stood protectively in front of Raina, his eyes flashing a bright yellow as he bared his fangs menacingly. “You okay, H?” the man questioned, his gaze trained solely on Rebecca. He mentioned toward Henry to move behind him, taking the rifle as the hunter took Raina in his arms. “What's she doing here?”  

“For the last few weeks, she's been watching us—Raina and I, specifically,” he answered, surprised at Marcos’ reaction. Henry would have bet everything on the man turning on him, angry his first suspicions of the hunter were true. Instead, he was worried for him, wanting to protect him from anything that wanted to cause him harm. “She's here to take me back to my father.”  

“Like hell she is! You're part of our pack now,” Marcos exclaimed. “She came alone. I say we get rid of her and jump ship after.”  

“Then we'd be no better than they are,” Raina spat. “But he's not leaving with you. I say knock her out, leave her in the woods, and go. Hunters like her never travel alone.”  

“Only problem with your plan is my team will be here in the next,” Rebecca squinted to read the time on the clock across from her, “seven minutes if I don't call and say that I am okay. I suggest you untie me so I can make that quick call, and you can hear my plan. If you don't, you can risk getting caught by my team. And you could run, of course. Go ahead. It just so happens that, in the morning, I have messengers set to hand your picture to every hunter I know, unless I tell them the plan is off.   “You can leave me in the woods, even kill me—I'd respect you for it, honestly. But you'll be followed by every hunting family in the world—there won't be a single place you'll be able to hide.”  

Henry's hold on Raina got tighter, knowing those would be some of the last moments he would share with her. He had yet to hear Rebecca's plan, but there was a very high possibility his child would grow up without him. But if it meant Raina and the baby were safe, he would dig his own grave. “Cut the tie, Marcos,” he instructed. “And keep the gun on her.” 

Rebecca smiled sickly as the wolf sliced the plastic ties from her wrists, muttering a sarcastic thanks. “Next time take me out to dinner before you tie me up, Henry,” she joked as she rubbed her skin. “I didn't know you liked to play dirty.”  

“Enough games, Rebecca,” Henry said, exasperated. “Just make your fucking call.”  

“Pushy,” she smirked. “I see how you like things, Raina.”  

She placed her phone to her ear before the other woman could answer. It took two rings for the person on the other line to pick up. The exchange was short and cold. Rebecca confirmed she was okay with whoever was on the other end of the phone, and to expect her before or at eight in the morning of the next day. With a quiet "10-4,” she cemented everyone's future. But they could have never guessed just how much Rebecca would derail it.  

“Now that that's settled, we can finally talk,” she smiled as she took a seat in front of the desk Raina and Henry were standing behind. “And I think you can lower the gun, Marcos. We're all friends here.” 

“Do you not get tired of being such a bitch?” Henry spat. “Just get on with what you have to say already.” 

“So feisty this one,” Rebecca chuckled. “But I guess I have been just dragging things out. Maybe you guys should sit down, this...”  

“Rebecca,” Henry warned.  

“Fine, jeez,” she sighed. “Well, it's no secret that your dad was very angry when you disappeared on us up in Fort Kent. It's also no secret that the pack we were tracking was Raina's—Gerard knew you would never really focus on your work if she was still around. He paid some good money to make sure we had reason to get rid of them.”  

“I fucking knew it!” Marcos interjected. “You people are the worst kind there is.”  

“Well, don't forget you have one of my people in your midst,” the woman smirked. "But that's beside the point. Now that I've found you, Henry, you know I can't leave here without you. After we leave, Raina, you will take your pack and move somewhere Henry will never find you. You won't reach out to him, you won't leave any clues for him, and you will most definitely never see him again.”  

Those terms were what he expected. There was no chance that he would ever be able to hold a relationship with Raina while his father was around. But he never expected the words that came out of Rebecca's mouth after. Not because there were more rules to live by, but because they affected someone that wasn't even born yet. “Obviously when those parameters were set by Gerard, we were missing some very important information,” she said. “Raina, you must know there can't just be an Argent child somewhere in the world that is not under our watch.”  

“You better not be saying what I think you are, Rebecca.”  

“I thought you'd be grateful, Henry,” the woman smiled. “Your kid will be growing up with you.” 

“You're not taking my baby!” Raina yelled. She lost strength in her legs, holding onto Henry for dear life. “Over my dead fucking body!”  

“Don't tempt me. The only reason any of you are still alive is because Gerard wants to get Henry home. If it had been up to me, this whole place would have been burnt to the ground.” The quip to Raina's past was not lost on anyone. She wore a sick smile on her face that only grew as the seconds passed. The only thing she cared about was getting what she wanted. “So, now that that's settled, I think you should start packing, Henry. The second that baby is out, so are we.”  

"You can't do that! You can't take my baby!”  

“The baby is a Shetty, too. They should stay with their mother.”  

“I don't think you're hearing me. This is not up for discussion. That baby is an Argent, and it belongs with the Argents,” Rebecca stated. “Think about it, Raina. You're gonna live in hiding—on the run. What kind of life is that for that kid? The baby will have their father. That should bring you a little peace.”  

“Don't do this, Rebecca,” Henry pleaded. “I'll come back right now if that's what Gerard wants, but don't take the baby. Leave the kid with Raina.”  

“These are non-negotiables, and you know that,” she shrugged. “That baby will have a great life. They will want for nothing. They will live like royalty.”  

“And they will grow learning to hate part of who they are.”  

Rebecca groaned loudly, getting tired of what seemed to be a drawn-out conversation. In her head, she knew they would have to do what she said if they valued their lives. And she wasn't lying when she said the baby would have a good life. That was the only thing she was certain of. “Look, we could stay here and talk all night if that's what you decided but we all know how things are gonna end,” she sighed. “Henry and his baby will be leaving with me, and you and your pack will disappear off the face of the earth. Now, where will I be sleeping?”   

Marcos led the hunter out of the office with a scowl on his face, knowing at least Henry and Raina would be alone and out of harm's way. Nothing about that afternoon had gone like anyone had thought the day would play out. They had all fallen into a rhythm that worked for the entire pack, and in just an hour, Rebecca had thrown everything off-beat.  

“This can’t be happening,” Raina cried as Henry hugged her tightly. “She can’t do this.” 

“I don’t know what else we could do. As much as I want to stay with you, I couldn’t bear putting you in danger,” he said. “We could run, but…” 

“We’d be running forever, I know,” she sighed. “Everything was perfect, Henry. We had everything. How could we lose it all now?”  

“I don’t know, Rai,” he sighed. “I wish I knew how to fix all of this. I wish…” 

“Don’t put this on yourself. None of this is your fault, darling.” 

“I wasn’t careful, Raina. I let my guard down,” Henry admitted, shame dripping from every word he spoke. “Believing we were safe here was my first mistake. I should have moved you and the pack when we had the chance. Now... I'm gonna lose you again, and I just found you.” 

Raina looked up at the man she loved, tears brimming in both their eyes. She cradled his cheeks as she pulled him down to her face, placing soft kisses on his trembling lips. It was a moment to savor, a moment to sketch deep in their brains as one of the last between them. “If there is anything I want to believe right now, it is that the universe will bring us back together one day,” she whispered as she rested her forehead against his. “I just need you to promise you will do everything in your power to protect our little girl.”  

“Raina...”  

“No, listen to me, Henry,” she sniffled. “I know the best chance this baby has to survive is if you raise her like I would have. I need you to promise me you will love her, that you will keep her away from your father, and most of all, that she doesn't grow up like you did.”  

Henry's lips extended into a shaky smile. “Our daughter will never know the hate I was raised with. She will grow to be kind and understanding, and she will only know love from me. She will be just like you without knowing it. She will be happy.”  

“Good,” Raina nodded softly as she blinked away her tears. “That's all I can ask for.”  

He walked behind her then, wrapping his arms around her stomach as they swayed to a silent song. The sky outside was riddled with stars, and a gentle, cool breeze blew through the open window. They whispered, “I love you” to one another, repeating it over and over until it was etched like a saving prayer in their head. It was truly a sight to behold. But how could a night so beautiful be so sad? And how could it be one of their lasts?   

Well, at that moment, they didn't know it would be the last one.  

Only a few hours later, at eight months and three weeks of pregnancy, Raina Shetty's water broke. With the pack's midwife far away in the town, the only person trained to help the alpha with the birth was the one person who would take her baby away. But they didn't have the luxury of making it to a hospital—not when they were hours away from the nearest one. The only way the child could safely be born was if Rebecca helped.  

Five hours later, as the sun started to peek out from the horizon, baby Argent finally made her first appearance in the world. The air filled with the child's cries, so powerful and loud, loud enough to drown out her own mother's.  

“She's a beautiful and healthy baby girl,” Rebecca smiled as she wrapped the baby in a blanket after wiping away the blood and putting on her first ever diaper. “I guess your old wife's tale was right.”  

“L-let me see her,” Raina stammered. “Please, let me hold her.”  

“I don't want you to get attached, Raina,” the woman said. “It's for your own good.”  

“You can't do this, Rebecca,” Henry cried. “Let her hold our child.”  

Without another thought and the baby still in her grasp, she reached behind her and pulled out a gun, aiming it at Henry’s head. “Your car is all packed up—not that you had much,” she chuckled. “I heard the midwife is already here; she’ll help you deliver the placenta. But us? We’re leaving now.”   

“W-where...? How did you get that gun?”   

“You really think I carry a Bible, Henry? Especially one that smells so much like mint?” the hunter laughed. “I knew I’d need to protect myself somehow, so I snuck in some wolfsbane bullets—just in case anyone gets some bright ideas—and while I was packing your bags into the SUV, I just so happened to find your weapon there.  “Now, we could stay here and blab all night,” she sighed. “But this little girl right here needs to get home.”  

Before Henry could argue any further, knowing he would just talk in circles, Raina pulled him to her and crashed her lips on his. “Take care of (Y/N), Henry,” she whispered, muttering their child's name for the very first time. “Remember what you promised.”  

“I will,” he sobbed. “I love you, Raina.”  

“I love you too, Henry,” she sniffled. “Until we meet again.”  

Against his better judgment, Henry let go of Raina's arm and walked out of the room, leaving behind the one woman he had ever loved. Rebecca handed him his daughter once they reached the car. No one had stood between them or tried to stop them, not when the gun was pressed to the man's back. The only one brave enough to even come close was Marcos.  

“Take care of her, Marcos,” Henry called out. "Whatever happens, just take care of Raina.”  

“Don't you worry, H. She'll be in good hands. You worry about yourself and the baby. She'll need you.” 

Those were the last words he ever heard the man speak. In the months he had spent with him, Marcos had quickly become his closest friend. And Henry knew he was the only one who would ensure Raina was safe and away from any hunter that tried to get on their track. With Marcos by her side, Henry could focus on raising his little girl, (Y/N) Argent.    

“After that, we sold to the party that we had run away together to “find ourselves.” Something stupid that any young person would do,” Henry sighed as he finished his story. “Rebecca and I then agreed we would tell you the truth by your eighteenth birthday. I thought by then I would have already found Raina. We obviously never expected this town would be the one to open this whole can of worms.”  

(Y/N) remained quiet as she digested the story, which had felt like an entire lifetime. Once more, she was confronted with the fact that her entire life had been a lie. Not only had her parents kept her in the dark about the supernatural world, but they had also lied to her about her entire existence. Everything she had known up to that point had been manufactured by her father and a woman who had stolen her from her mother.  

She was hurt, she felt betrayed, and, in a sense, she was lost. Almost her entire life had been fabricated, tailored perfectly to fit into the fantasy others had created for her. She couldn’t be sure how many of her memories had been hers, how many moments she had been the creator of, how many decisions she had been taught and how many she had been born with. Nothing about her was real—at least, she didn't feel like she was.  

All that existed in that moment was anger. Some loss and grief for the life she could've had. But nothing was stronger than the red-hot ire that consumed her. Anger at her father for allowing her to be taken—even if he didn't have many other choices. Anger at her family for their hatred. Anger at Rebecca... so much anger.  

“You ripped me from my mother?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, her face growing red as her emotions exploded. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

Next ->

A/N: uh oh, one chapter more for Derek's return. Although, I will tell y'all to not get your hope's up. This book doesn't end happily... 🫣 If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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[paillard]

Let's say the fic is 14k+ (maybe a max of 20k, maybe less). Which would you prefer reading? One big story uninterrupted, or that same story broken up into bite size pieces?