#type: 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]

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.

[yanderu-deredere]

swallow.

★ you don't know what the hell you drank last night but whatever it was, you needed to stay away from it forever. and you needed to get out of here. even if last night was the most perfect night in the world.

a/n: here's that next part that i promised ya'll and it's full of lore and i really enjoyed it a lot! it's definitely something and i hope you guys enjoy it! the next and last part will be out tomorrow so hope you guys are excited for that

like always, heed the warnings and hope you like it! not as smutty as the usual content! might actually be a bit sad...

part one (bite.) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (here) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 2544

warning: bottom reader with male parts and pronoun, no explicit sexual stuff but allusions to what happened in the previous chapter

It felt like you woke up slowly and then all at once; you were vaguely aware of the things around you like the blanket over you, the body against you, the clothes on you, and then, suddenly, it hit you like a truck.

You bolted upright, heart palpitating in your chest, your eyes wide and your breaths coming in short soft spirts.

Then, you were looking behind you, still panicked, hoping everything last night was some sort of fever dream.

Beside you, on the couch, was Leonard, his fluffy hair a messy nest this early in the morning. His glasses were off, probably tucked safely away somewhere. He was yawning and rubbing at his eyes, looking at you all dazed and confused.

Oh, no.

"Wh-Wh-- Leo." You stuttered out before cupping your forehead, your head feeling like it was spinning "Please, tell me, last night--"

"You didn't fuck me within an inch of my life? No can do." Leonard didn't even give it to you slow and soft.

You let out a sound like a dying cat.

"What, don't tell me I was wrong about you." Leonard crossed his arms, looking angry at the fact that you were looking a little anxious "You said you were into guys."

"I'm into guys!" You snapped a little, your panic rising to something you couldn't control "I just-- I have a girlfriend! I hadn't even broken up with her yet! I cheated on her!"

Leonard looked a bit off-put by how you spoke to him; understandable seeing as your tone wasn't exactly friendly.

You wanted to apologise because it wasn't entirely his fault. It took two to cheat and, though he pushed you, you were the one that ended up caving eventually.

Before you could apologise, however, he just huffed and threw a pillow into your lap "Oh yeah, stellar girlfriend you have there! She hasn't even messaged you about where you are and she left you at the bonfire!"

You stopped for a second, confused, your anger dissipating as a nauseating feeling appeared in your stomach "How do you know that?"

Leonard seemed to realise that he made a mistake because his anger dissipated immediately too, replaced with an embarrassed expression "I-I--"

"I'm sorry he went through your phone."

Your head snapped back and you looked to see it was Mel with a tray in his hand. Behind him and to the side was Isamu with a similar tray in his hands too.

"Mel! L-Look, I-I didn't mean to!" Leonard snapped, turning his body away from you "I was just charging your phone and it turned on! There weren't any notifications so I looked through it and checked!"

"What kind of a pathetic girlfriend doesn't even text her boyfriend after he's been gone an entire night?" He continued, shaking his head, his tone absolutely disgusted.

"We wouldn't treat you like that." Leonard added, that disgust made way for a more sheepish expression as he finally glanced at you, hoping you would pick up what he was putting down.

You could, if you wanted to and, honestly, a part of you did. But you were scared to. So, instead, your eyes flickered to Mel, hoping he'd help you out.

Mel was just sternly looking at Leonard.

"Here, we made breakfast." Mel pushed the coffee table close with his shin before placing the trays down, Isamu placing his tray down right after.

Then, Isamu sat on the floor while Mel sat on the other side of you, the two of them looking at you expectantly, like they were excited for you to praise them.

The two trays contained four plates of waffles, each with butter. There was also a little thing for maple syrup and honey as well as a glass of orange and apple juice for each of you.

Then, if that wasn't enough, there were some eggs on the plates too and some bacon. It was a whole buffet, just for you. The cheater. The person who was going to leave them and go crawling back to your girlfriend.

You immediately felt bad "This is too much--"

"It's not too much! Especially after last night!" Isamu quickly interrupted you as he sat beside you, small smile on his face.

You felt your heart break a little bit in your chest but you knew you had to nip this in the bud or else you'd just end up leading them all on.

"I'm sorry, but last night-- I was drunk, and it was a mistake--"

"A mistake!" Leonard stood, his expression aghast like you'd just told him you murdered his parents "It wasn't a mistake! How could you-- Why would you--"

Mel held up a hand and Leonard immediately shut up but you could see that there were tears in his eyes that he was desperately holding back.

"I can see that there's some communication issues going on, okay, so let me just clear the air." Mel sighed, his hand still up like, if he put it down, Leonard would immediately pounce "He didn't mean it was a mistake like that, Leo, you know that."

"He just feels really guilty about cheating with his girlfriend, right?" Mel turned to you, that polite smile on his face not exactly reaching his eyes "If you didn't have a girlfriend right now, you would stay with us, wouldn't you?"

You gulped, your mouth suddenly feeling a little dry. You took a second to think about it. In all honesty? You nodded, cheeks feeling suddenly a little hot.

"You all are really great and I had a great time. It was really fun talking with you guys and drinking with you guys and the-- uhmmm--" Your voice cracked as you got even more flustered "The sex was really great, I swear!"

Mel grinned, that brightness finally reaching his eyes. He reached over and clapped a hand on the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin "Our darling here is just loyal to a fault, is all. Can we really blame him for that?"

Darling. You flushed even hotter at the nickname.

Like all the hot air was taken out of him, Leonard deflated, his shoulders sagging as he sighed "Whatever. Your girlfriend doesn't deserve it."

"You're right, Leo." Mel's hand on your neck fell and he used it to grab something. You realised it was your phone because he plopped it in your lap. "That's why he's going to break up with her right now."

You felt like ice water was dumped all over you.

"D-Du-Dump her? Right now?" You stuttered out as you looked to Mel, eyes wide and shaking fingers slowly taking hold of your phone.

You could see Isamu looking at you hopefully and Leonard smirking victoriously at you from the corners of your eye but all you could do was stare at Mel.

There was that polite smile again, the one that he used to cover up something much darker. It showed in his eyes; it was something predatorial, something that made you feel like a pinned insect, something that made you feel like you were in danger.

"I-I can't just break up with her." Your brain worked to find excuse after excuse, your instincts screaming at you to get out and run "I-I'd at least like to break up with her in person. She deserves that much."

Then, for some reason, you broke his gaze and looked down at your lap. When Mel sighed, you knew it had been a mistake to look away.

Instead of replying, Mel cupped your chin, his thumb and forefinger digging into your cheek a little bit. He tilted your head up so you were looking at him again and that polite smile that you were so wary of was gone.

Instead, it was replaced with that dark look he had that night, when he had Isamu in his lap. You felt less like an insect and more like a small rabbit surrounded by a bunch of wolves.

A bunch of hungry rabid wolves that wanted nothing but to chase you.

"You know we can't do that." Mel let the words out slowly, like he was speaking to an idiot or, perhaps, like it was hard for him to say "We can't let you leave for right now, darling."

"Wh-Why not?" You felt a zing of fear crawl up your spine as you tried to pull your face away from his hand. Instead of really succeeding, his grip on you just got harder.

"You have to understand that we just want what's best for you, darling. You understand that, don't you?" Mel spoke softly, soothingly, but the words weren't effective when he looked at you like that.

Like he could eat you without regret.

But, still, you tried your hardest to remember him yesterday, the way he took care of you and housed you. So, you nodded.

When you did, he let go of your chin and pulled you in by your waist, perching you on his lap.

As soon as he did that, Leonard and Isamu crowded close, the expressions on their faces akin to ravenous wolves.

It was like a trigger had been pulled and now there was something to how they were acting. You didn't understand it very well but you felt both scared and safe trapped in between all three of them.

"Why don't I explain while Sam and Leo feed you, hmmm, puppy?" Mel nosed behind your ear, his breath warm and causing your ears to turn hot.

You didn't think you had any say in it but you nodded for show anyway.

Mel looked thankful for that at least.

You thought that, when he said feed you, he meant like with a fork or something, However, Isamu and Leonard took turns ripping bite sized pieces off of the waffles and soaking them in syrup to feed you. With their hands.

You accepted them, even going so far as to lick their fingers feebly, since you felt like you didn't have much of a choice. And it seemed to placate all three of them too.

They didn't look as wolfish as before, that was for sure.

"You might not believe me but please keep your mind open." Mel sighed as if he'd had this conversation one too many times before "You see, the reason we can't let you leave is because... we're werewolves."

You stiffened in his lap. And not in the fun way.

Now, your previous wolfish comparisons felt like jokes.

Leonard snickered at your reaction, obviously amused before stuffing another piece of a waffle accompanied by a small piece of bacon into your mouth.

Mel was less amused and pressed a kiss to your temple "I know it's-- It's not exactly easy to believe. But, it's true. We're werewolves and you're our mate."

"It's why you can't leave. We won't be able to control ourselves if you try to leave." Mel continued to explain, his hand flexing around your waist as if just the thought of it made him angry or scared or something.

"It's worse for Leo. He's not had that much training." Mel hesitantly let go of your waist to run a hand through Leonard's blonde fluffy hair "His parents paraded him around in a circus. It took him a long time to find us. He hasn't had much time to learn control."

"So, what, the wolf--"

"No, not the wolf. Us." Mel immediately dismissed that thought "I know, the media promotes this idea that the wolf and the human are separate but it's not-- we're not two separate beings in one brain. We're werewolves. We're one thing."

"It's just that, when we shift, it's like being inebriated, you know? We can't control ourselves." Mel sighed, pressing his cheek against your temple "It becomes all instinct to try and help our shifted bodies to survive."

You had enough of this. You know you you said you'd keep your mind open but this was ridiculous.

Still, you supposed you owed them for housing you for a night and for, you know, hopefully eventually leading you out of the forest.

So, you gave them the benefit of your doubt "Can I see?"

It was their turn to stiffen and stare at you with shock.

"What, you seriously didn't think you'd tell me about werewolves and I wouldn't ask to see?" You huffed, crossing your arms and looking at them like they were the crazy ones.

Mel nodded like 'yeah, that made sense' but, when he looked to Isamu, the man shrunk back and shook his head like Mel was volunteering him for the War or something.

"N-No way! No way! I-I can't! I can't!" Isamu stuttered out, the panic obvious in his voice "I can't control it, not around him!"

"Well, Leonard definitely can't... You have better control--" Mel moved his hand to cup the back of Isamu's neck but Isamu moved away, shocking both you and Mel.

Leonard looked like you pissed in his cereal "That's not true! I could totally control myself!"

Mel shook his head, sigh ragged "No, you're going to end up hurting someone--"

You turned in Mel's lap and looked up at him "Why don't you do it?"

Isamu and Leonard audibly gasped and Mel looked at you like you'd suggested he cut off his dick or something. The grimace on his face would've been hilarious if it weren't for the fact that it was confusing.

"I'm-- It's not the same for me. I'm not like Sam and Leo." Mel tried to pull you back against him but you resisted, obviously displeased. "Darling, I don't want you to see me like that."

When they all looked at you like you were the crazy one, you just let out a loud noise of frustration "You get why I'm angry, right? You're telling me all of this unbelievable stuff and then, when I ask you to prove it, you won't!"

"You just keep making up excuses why you can't prove it! How can I believe you then?" You finally fought your way out of Mel's grasp, your phone in your hand as you stood, your face hot but this time with anger.

You were tired of being left to their whims! You were tired of letting them decide everything. You were tired of being scared of Mel, of being intimidated by how beefy and sexy they were.

"I'm sorry, but I just-- I think you're crazy!" You screamed, stomping your foot as a show that you were putting your foot down.

Mel looked at you sadly, like you were about to make the worst mistake of your life "Please, darling, don't."

Part of you felt like you were. The part of you that enjoyed them doting on you, that enjoyed their attention and their affection, that enjoyed the fantasy they offered you, wanted to believe them.

But the other part of you overtook that. The other part of you knew that these three were just crazy and you needed to wake up from this weird dream.

"If you won't help me find my way out of the forest, I'll just find my way out! Fucking keep playing this weird freak fantasy of yours for all I care." You stomped to the door "I need to get to my girlfriend."

Freak. Fantasy. Girlfriend.

Oh, no.

[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!

[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.

[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.

[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.

[ateezlibrary]

what it takes. (chapter 1/?)

summary: following your mother's passing, the king scrambles to retain power in the kingdom of goseon by ensuring that you are arranged a suitor and wed within a week's time. little does he know, your heart belongs to another that is considered unworthy. how will you navigate a broken heart, an immense loss, and a newfound … friendship, is it?

members: wooyoungxreade, with mentions of past yunhoxreader

word count: 2,030

genre: ateez royalty/fantasy au, angst, unrequited love, forbidden love, unexpected enemies to lovers

notes: also cross-posted on ao3 (babysnooby). kicking off with the prologue of a chaptered fic! will be more wooyoung-centric as we go, but an angsty yunho moment. :-(

prologue.

“Your Highness, which of the fabrics are you most drawn to?”

“Hm—?” You raise your nose from the book nestled between your fingertips, pages tattered and turned at the edges. Handmaidens bustled around you, hurriedly scurrying from one end of the grand hall to the next as they joined the palace staff in arranging the decorations for the next day.

Your eyes gloss over the decadent draping that slides down slick marble walls, the florals being hauled in bucket after bucket to crawl the pillars alongside vines. It was a beautiful sight, more than you could have ever dreamed for your wedding to be.

“Your Highness?” the handmaiden repeats gingerly, nudging both fabrics in her hands towards you in emphasis.

You look between the soft sage and the ivory, barely registering the colors before gesturing to her left hand.

“The ivory,” you reply simply, setting aside your book with a sigh before feigning a smile. “I think it would look lovely in the afternoon sun.”

As she returns to her duties, you glide across the polished marble floors to the far end of the hall where late afternoon sun billowed through grand windows. Lavender and gold trail behind you, the fabrics coming to a halt far beyond your ankles in a long trail of silk. In the gardens below, you chuckle at the young stable boys running through hedge mazes with gleeful threats of catching one another.

A handmaiden runs after them, losing her own footing in the maze and tumbling into a nearby shrub. The sight makes you burst into a fit of laughter, the first that’s left you since you’d found out about … well, about the arrangement.

* * *

“You asked to see me, Father?” you call as you enter the throne room, royal guards posted at each end of its perimeter.

The elder man sits in his gilded throne, fingers clasped around the velvet and oak arms as he peers down at you. An equally opulent crown sits atop his head, the gems embedded in the center nearly blinding you in the morning sun as you shuffle down the rugs at the center of the room.

“Hello, my dear,” he chirps back, though there is a noticeable weariness in his voice that slows your pace. “Thank you for joining me.” You come to a stop at his throne’s feet, a customary curtsy following soon after. You look at him with bright eyes, failing to understand why his mirror yours with an immense dread.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately, wasting no time in calling upon his iffy demeanor.

“I—Why must something be wrong for me to call you?” he stammers, tripping over his words.

“Because you never summon me to the throne room unless someone is dead. Or dying,” you add, crossing arms over your chest with an arched brow.

“I—” The king pauses, choosing his next words carefully as his voice lowers. His gaze shifts to the men stationed around the room, a silent order for them to leave you two in privacy as they shut the grand oak doors behind them.

“My dear, I have a grave favor to ask of you.” You nod once, ignoring the quickening of your heart in anticipation.

“Do you love this kingdom?”

“Of course I do,” you answer nearly instantly, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“And you understand that with loving a kingdom comes a great sense of responsibility towards your kingdom.”

“Of course I do,” you repeat.

“I am not getting younger,” your father begins, sinking into the velvet of his chair with a weary sigh. “And after your mother’s death, I fear for this kingdom’s lack of an heir.”

You glower but remain silent. The Kingdom of Goseon held a longstanding patriarchal tradition and refused you a claim to the monarchy without a rightful husband. You fought tooth and nail against the custom, even before your mother’s passing, to no avail. It took years of accepting the defeat and a great deal of mental preparation, yet the expectation still hit you like deadweight.

“I wish to have you wed in a week’s time.”

“A week?” you scoff, anger pricking beneath your skin. “I’ve spent longer time deciding what to wear to balls than I am to choose a husband.”

“No matter,” he replies coolly. “That’s why I’ve taken the liberty alongside the royal council to choose a suitor for you.”

“You must be joking.” Your father was a stickler for tradition, but allowed you even the most limited freedom.

At least, until now.

“This is a duty to your country,” the king orders. “Goseon requires a strong lineage to advance into the next century with the type of power we have in these lands. I cannot wait longer.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice is barely a whisper, yet it still cracks as you look up to your father with tear-brimmed eyes. “A vessel to bear your next heir?”

“I cannot fight tradition. And I cannot let our people suffer.”

“Yet, you can let me suffer.” The king calls your name with a sigh before you cut him off, turning away from him and heading for the doors at the far end.

“I will do what it takes for our people. Not for you, but for our people.” * * * Seven hours.

From the pocket watch that dangled off of the string of pearls nestled at your waist, you could tell it had been seven hours since the life-altering conversation with your father. With your king.

Seven hours since you had escaped to the neighboring woods at the edge of the palace grounds, your horse neatly tied to a tall pine tree as your sobs dissolved into the forest air. You watched as the sun slowly crept towards the lands in the west, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you sobbed and sinked further into the soil.

“My love.”

You gasp at the familiar voice, grappling with the fabrics settled around you as you ran into your lover’s arms. His familiar scent of cypress and sandalwood envelop you as you sob into his chest, his grip tightening around your waist.

“You received my note,” you sob in between gasps of air. His hand creeps to the small of your back, rubbing in soft, gentle circles. “Yunho, I am so sorry.”

You pull away just enough to meet his gaze. Though his features were unusually rigid, you could see the heartbreak in his eyes as he looked down at you in silence. The tailored fabrics of his noble robes whipped behind him in the wind, intertwining ever-so-often with the lavender of your gowns.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong,” he replies softly, the weight of defeat injecting his tone. “You are doing what this kingdom needs. You are going to be a remarkable queen.”

“But who am I, if not with you?” you sob, burying your face into his chest once more.

His warmth continued to cloak you as you sunk back onto the earth, his long legs folding as he found a seat beside you. For just over a year, you’d found solace in Yunho. He was one of your mother’s closest royal guards, young but remarkable enough to protect the kingdom’s most precious jewel. After her passing, Yunho’s duties had transitioned from the queen to safeguarding the princess.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to nearly a year. What began as customary oversight of your every move turned into a confidante for escapades to the kitchen at night, a secret-keeper for your trips to the neighboring woods and bubbling brooks. Yunho was strict, unwavering in his duties to the crown and his sworn oath to protect you.

All it took was one night of too much mulled wine and confinement to your chambers after a heated argument with your father for your confessions to Yunho to spill over. Ever the gentleman, he still ensured you made it to bed safely and had plenty of water and dried fruit the next morning to nurse your headache. But, something shifted that day.

Yunho became more forward in his time with you. The occasional compliment, the sheepish glances when he was at attention in the throne room beside your father for court sessions.

“Have you ever been in love?” he’d asked one day, his question out of genuine curiosity.

“I don’t think so,” you’d confessed, mulling over the question intently. “You may be the closest thing I’ve ever had to someone I truly love that isn’t my family.”

“But you have so many friends, so many allies,” Yunho had remarked, pointing out your royal crowd from neighboring kingdoms and the like.

“They are wonderful,” you’d remarked. “But they are not here when I am crying myself to sleep. They are not here when I am running through these forests, free to breathe in fresh air and feel the earth between my toes. They are not here to—” You’d stopped yourself, your cheeks flushed before continuing with your suggestion.

“To…?” Yunho had teased, closing in on you against the bark of a towering cypress tree with a gentle laugh. Your cheeks grew rosier, your gaze meeting the ground before he lifted your chin with a finger. “Tell me, princess.”

And now, in the same forest he’d held you and kissed you and danced with you, he was nursing your heartbreak. For you, for him.

“I am so sorry,” you wail, the sound carrying through the forest as the sun continued to creep below the earth. Yunho sighed, his hands unmoving from around your waist as he pressed a gentle kiss to your hair.

“It’s not your fault I was not born noble enough,” he scolds softly, a painful smile gracing his lips as he brushes a thumb across your cheeks to wipe the tears that cascaded down your face. “Else, these may have been tears of joy.”

“I am so sorry,” you whisper, unsure of what else to say to convey the absolute gut-wrenching pain that settled in your core. You look up at Yunho, his own eyes glittering with tears that refused to fall. He gives you another smile that sends you into another fit of sobbing, knowing that he was struggling to stay strong to console you.

“I wish it could have been you.”

“Hey, look at me,” he chides, pressing a palm to your cheek. “It will always be you. In this lifetime and the next. No matter who is beside you when you ascend that throne. I am sworn to protect you. Love just happened to become a part of the deal that I was unaware of.”

You shake your head silently, blinking through the tears settled at your waterline.

“I am sure that whoever is expected to be our next king, will be an incredible gentleman that will make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Only, he won’t have to hide it from the world.” Yunho presses a despondent kiss to your lips, cradling your face between his hands.

The warmth that thrums against your veins pushes you further into his embrace. You wrap your arms around the neck of the man you love, the man that saved you from solitude. His hands tighten at your waist, fabric cinched between his fingertips as he brings you closer to him. It’s not a moment later that he pulls himself away, sorrow dripping from his words as he looks down at your obvious dejection.

“We should return.”

* * *

“Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Your eyes bore into Yunho’s beside the wedding party seated at the front of the attendees. He was dressed in emerald and gold, the kingdom’s colors, in the finest royal guard garb. His dark hair swept just above his brow, his eyes darkened as they met yours in utter defeat.

You barely register any of the guests and the man standing beside you at the front of the hall.

Looking at Yunho, you utter a final, “I will.”

[alltimefanfiction]

Jack and Alex have been best friends for as long as they can remember, and that's as long as Alex has loved Jack. When Jack steps completely out of character and gets married to a woman named Caitlin, Alex has to try desperately to move on. That's how he meets Beau, a seemingly perfect distraction. Beau is far from perfect, and that may cost Alex his life. But in the long run...does Alex really care? And more importantly, does Jack?

extra tags: unrequited love, cheating, abuse

[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

[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?

[readingcherik]

I think I’ve seen this love before. by mapofyourstars

Mourning the loss of his wife and daughter while holding himself together for his three other children, Erik finds happiness in an unexpected friendship with another mutant father. This is how Erik Lehnsherr chases his newfound joy and falls in love all over again.

[yanderu-deredere]

bite.

★ what kind of girlfriend invites you to some bonfire in the middle of the forest only to leave you there? a shitty girlfriend, that's who. now, you're kind of buzzed and lost. thankfully, you spot a cabin. hopefully, the people there can help you out.

a/n: mom says it's my turn with the wolf pack!! here's another long thing but this time it's for the wolfie pack that ive been promising for a while now! hopefully it lives up to your guys expectations LOL i really love these yanderes and the werewolf lore i sprinkled in is my own brand of crazy

for those in disbelief, wondering how does this fit in my lil city. well, there's a forest at the outskirts of the city and i want there to be werewolves so there's werewolves!! got inspired by @not-a-bot-just-shy and their poly wolf pack so please check theirs out too!

while i was writing this, i decided that it got like really long so i decided to write a few more parts LOL im so sorry ive been slapping you guys with so many different chaptered stuff! but i hope itll be worth it!

part one (here) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ extras (taste) ★ part three ★ (swallow.) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 3475 warning: bottom reader has male parts and pronouns, reader is implied to be attracted to both genders, reader may be under the influence of alcohol, reader may have a shitty girlfriend, yanderes may be under the influence of the moon? wild, polyamorous ending (all three with the reader)

You grumbled, pushing past branches and leaves as you stomped around the forest, angry at your girlfriend for basically ditching you. Well, not ditching you. But, she did invite you to this stupid bonfire only to force you to drink and then ignore you the entire night.

She was the kind of girlfriend who was super into the full moon, tarot cards and mystic readings so she thought it would be fun to run around half naked tonight, thinking maybe something witchy and magical would happen.

You thought it meant having a hot make out session in front of a sexy bonfire so, of course, when she begged you to come, you agreed.

You were unfortunately wrong.

She was probably with that stupid buff friend of hers, draping herself all over him. So what if you couldn't tell whether or not you were a 'Sagittarius rising' or whatever and he could? You couldn't help but be annoyed at the thought of the two of them having fun.

You wouldn't call it cheating but it was definitely something.

You had stormed out in anger, hoping your girlfriend would care enough to chase after you. Unfortunately, she didn't even care enough about you to do that.

Or, even worse, she didn't notice that you'd left at all.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and glanced at the time and battery. It was getting really late and your phone was almost dead. Damn. You didn't have any signal either so no hopes of calling someone for help.

Why were you so petty and dramatic anyway?

You heard a thump and your heart jumped into your throat. You looked around, scared as all hell, only to realise there was light in front of you.

You hurried forward, hoping to whatever higher power there was that it was civilization. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Fortunately, it was some sort of rustic looking house, large enough to fit a big family.

The thumping was from someone chopping some wood.

He looked buff, like a weightlifter with a little bit of pudge. He was a ways away from you but you could tell he was definitely taller than you, with the messiest ginger hair you had ever seen.

The stranger was wearing a tight worn down tank top and jeans which, honestly, he made look really good.

You hadn't even gotten close before the guy whacked his axe down, looking around the clearing like he was searching for something and, as if he'd heard you, his head snapped right to you.

You flinched but decided just coming out right then was less suspicious than hiding.

"Uhm! Hello!" You stepped forward, face and ears feeling a little hot from embarrassment "I'm really sorry to bother you but I'm like so lost and I just need directions--"

"You're not supposed to be here." He suddenly snapped and it made you take a step away from him, your eyes fluttering from one of his bulging muscles to the other.

If he wanted to snap you like a twig, he could easily do it.

"Right," you held your hands up as a sort of sign of surrender, "I totally get that but my friends-- We have a bonfire nearby-- Well, I don't really know how nearby-- I got lost--"

He seemed to see how frantic you got because he sighed and nodded, holding his hand out "C'mon, there's no way anyone would find their way through the forest at night."

"Stay the night and we'll drive you to Lovelock in the morning." He wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you got close enough though, from the tone in his voice, he didn't seem very happy.

"You can call me Mel. I live here with my partners, Leo and Sam." He guided you to the door and opened it for you "Sorry I'm a bit messy, was trying to cut wood for kindling."

"All good! Thanks for housing me. Sorry I'm being such a bother." You bowed your head a little, very apologetic since he seemed so inconvenienced.

Then, you didn't know if it was the alcohol in your system or if it was just from how good-looking the guy is but you suddenly felt the urge to lean against him and giggle "You know, I'm not entirely convinced this isn't some elaborate mirage."

"Mirage?" He looked understandably confused as he easily held up your body which practically draped itself on him.

You nodded, sighing almost dramatically "I was stuck in that forest for forever! I thought I'd never find my way! And I feel like super-sexy--mean-muscle-lumberjack is the exact fantasy my mind would conjure up."

He seemed to realise he was being a bit stand-offish or something (probably from the fact you described him as a mean muscle lumberjack) because his personality did a complete switch "Oh, ummm, I apologise. Sorry for being weird, my partners and I aren't really-- em, in the state for having guests--"

Just as the two of you finally made it through the front door, Mel definitely much more easily than you, the sound of someone else caught your attention.

"Melk--" Speak of the devil, a fluffy ashen haired head peaked out of one of the doorways leading further into the house, blue bespectacled glasses peering at you "Who's the twunk?"

You felt your cheeks grow warm. Twunk? You were definitely more hunk than twink. What even constituted as twink anyway? You doubted you were small or thin enough! In fact, if either of you were the twink, it would've been him, with his lithe model body!

He was like an exact opposite to Mel; where Mel was tanned and muscled, this stranger was pale, of average height and looked like he could shove you a little at most.

Differences aside, he both of them were absolutely handsome. It made you feel a little left out. Were you on some movie set?

"Leo, don't be rude. He's our guest." Mel placed both his broad palms on your shoulders, introducing you before giving you a little nudge forward "And this is ou-- umm, my partner, Leonard. He's a pain in the ass but he grows on you."

The little stumble in Mel's sentence went completely unnoticed to you but the sudden weird expression on Leonard's face didn't.

Still, you didn't want to be rude to someone who was putting up with you for a night so you smiled as sweetly as you could "Hi, really nice to meet you!"

It was obvious Leonard didn't think the same because his smile was obviously forced "Nice to meet you too!"

Then, he hurried off and you could hear his sock-clad feet thumping through the wooden floors of the house "Saaam!"

"I'm so sorry about him." Mel pulled you to him, your back against his chest, and leaned forward, apologetic expression on his face.

You just chalked it up to him being a really touchy person and smiled nervously, nodding "It's all good! It's totally understandable, I came out of nowhere, after all!"

That polite look on Mel's face vanished for a second, replaced with a look that was gone too fast for you to place. Thankfully, you didn't think you had to worry about it because Mel was helping you take off your shoes and leading you to the kitchen.

"You must be starving." He pulled out a chair for you "Let me heat something up for you."

"Handsome and polite..." You murmured, your hand rubbing at your aching and empty stomach before, a bit more loudly, you said: "No, I can't possibly ask you to feed me too!"

"It's really nothing, just pressing a few buttons on a microwave." Mel waved off your concerns, grin on his face as he did just that; sticking a glass tupperware container in the microwave and setting it to some arbitrary time.

You sighed and relented; mostly because you were definitely still hungry and buzzed from the alcohol. You wanted nothing more than food in your tummy.

As you were taking in the yummy smell of food heating in the microwave, there was the cacophony of hurried steps on wooden floor before Leonard and a man you didn't know appeared in a doorway.

He was also gorgeous. Goes to show that good looking people flocked together. He had black shaggy hair in a low pony and a noticeable scar on his upper lip but it didn't take away from his pretty face.

He even had two moles under his left eye which made him look even more beautiful (if that were even possible).

He was like a middle man; not exactly twink-ish like Leonard but not exactly buff like Mel. Definitely on the more muscular side, though. Definitely bigger. He could probably bend you in half, that was for sure.

"Leo said--" The man burst in before turning absolutely dark red in the face upon laying eyes on you, an almost inhuman whine leaving his lips "Hello."

"Hello." You grinned at him, finding his actions way more funny than weird "You must be Sam, right? Nice to meet you."

"Isamu. Y-You can call me Sam." He nodded, agreeing.

Then, to continue his train of weird actions, he bowed at the waist, still looking flustered, before scurrying away. Leonard snickered, looking especially mischevious before following after him.

"What's up with all of you and your partners looking supernaturally gorgeous?" You whispered conspiratorially to Mel.

Instead of asking, he just laughed, all deep and rumbly, like you'd said a particularly funny joke.

You pouted, unsure if you'd really said something that was worth laughing at that much.

"You were at a bonfire, you said?" Mel said instead, opening the microwave to pull the glass tupperware out, whatever food in it obviously steaming.

You nodded, excited at the prospect of food "Yeah, my girlfriend invited me but then she ditched me to go hang out with some buff guy."

"Jokes on her, I guess, I found an even buffer, hotter guy to hang out with instead." You grinned at him, looking quite like the cat that got the cream.

Mel just let out another smaller laugh, putting the tupperware container with a plastic spoon and fork in front of you.

You were a little awed by the fact that he could touch the hot glass but chalked it up to the fact that he was just really tough.

The food was just fried rice (which was honestly more fried vegetables than rice and it made you almost laugh) and what you guessed was grilled chicken with teriyaki sauce. Aside from the vegetables in the rice, there was also broccoli.

Thankfully, there was a lot of chicken so there wasn't too many vegetables.

"Make sure to eat your vegetables." He sat in front of you, looking like he was holding back a smirk.

You pouted at him but rolled your eyes and speared a small broccoli branch and put it in your mouth. Then, you made an exagerrated 'MMM' sound to show him how tasty you thought it was.

He laughed again but, this time, it sounded fake "Sorry, I always have to remind Leo to eat his vegetables. It becomes habit after awhile."

"Understandable." You gave a curt nod "I'm bad at eating healthy so I can relate to Leo."

"Well, you definitely won't be eating badly under my roof." Mel crossed his arms (which made his biceps absolutely bulge) before leaning back in his chair, an almost arrogant expression on his face.

"Good think I'll only be living one night under this roof, huh?" You joked back, thinking that was the right thing to say.

Instead of the laugh you expected, that strange expression was back on Mel's face. You stopped mid-bite, looking at him curiously, a worried expression on your face "Did I say something wrong?"

"No." The expression was gone quickly, like before, and his polite grin was back.

He sat up again, his arms uncrossing and his hand reaching over to cover yours on the table. You just grinned at him, confused by the gesture but figured, like you thought before, he was just a touchy guy.

"Sam, Leo, come here and hang out with our new guest!" Mel suddenly yelled, making you flinch a bit with how unnaturally loud his voice got.

"Sorry." His hand tightened around yours, apologetic expression on his face as his thumb rubbed comforting circles onto the side of your hand "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, just got surprised!" You waved off his concern as you smiled and shrugged his hand off so you could properly eat. You didn't want to admit it but his touch had your heart fluttering wildly in your chest!

"Here, you were at the bonfire to have fun right? We can have our own fun here." Mel wolfishly grinned at you, his eyes alight with a playful look on his face "We have a couple of cases of beer here if you want?"

"Sure." You looked eager at the offer, nodding your head quickly. Usually, you wouldn't have accepted, Mel being a stranger and all, but you were already a bit inebriated and he was just so handsome that he convinced you easily.

He stood just as Isamu and Leonard entered, both looking flustered and weird.

Of course, excited by the prospect of getting more drunk and forgetting your problems with a bunch of hot strangers, you gestured for them to come sit next to you, not at all minding their weirdness.

Isamu quickly sat next to where Mel was sitting, his back ramrod straight and his hands in his lap. If you had a protractor, you were sure he would measure at ninety degrees exactly.

Leonard, on the other hand, looked relaxed and almost cocky as he sat next to you, even going so far as to scoot the chair closer.

"Mel said he was going to get some beer, do you want to drink with us?" You asked them happily and Leonard made a face like he was disgusted with the suggestion while Isamu immediately nodded.

"Our handsome guest here was just telling me his girlfriend ditched him for someone else." Mel walked over, two bottles of beer in each hand "We can't have him being sad over that right? We have to help him forget all about that stupid bitch."

You scowled, feeling as if maybe you should defend your girlfriend. Mel couldn't just randomly call her a bitch like that, right?

But then, he literally flicked the caps off of the beer bottles like they were made of paper and you thought maybe, a muscly hot guy like him was allowed a few red flags.

He handed you a bottle and you took a fat swig before giggling "Thank you so much for taking me in and for taking care of me like this! I feel so bad for imposing on you guys! You guys are so wonderful!"

Leonard leaned against you, your shoulders bumping against each others' "Don't worry about it. In fact, it's really our pleasure!"

You grinned before wrapping an arm around Leonard and pulling him close, completely missing the look the three of them shared with each other.

Before you knew it, you were just knocking them back, swapping happy stories with the three of them.

Apparently, Mel first moved out here and built the house with the money he inherited with his family. The family itself seemed like a sore subject but he looked entirely too happy to rant about how he made the house.

Then, Isamu came next when he got lost trying to find his dog? The dog died a couple of years later since she was already a senior dog but the two hit it off and started dating almost immediately after Mel helped him find the old geezer.

After Isamu's dog died and he graduated college, he moved in and they literally found Leonard who had tried running away from his overly controlling parents.

When Leonard graduated college, he moved in too. Now, the three of them lived together. The only one of them that really commuted was Leonard but not that far since he worked at a cafe pretty much near the edge of the forest.

You awed and gushed over their relationship, absolutely enamoured by how sweet it was that they all found each other.

At least, that was the last thing you remembered.

"You're a little bit of a light-weight, aren't'cha?" Mel laughed and you felt his entire chest rumble under your palms, his collar bone hard and cozy under your cheek.

"Huh?" You hummed, a little confused.

You got the gist that he was carrying you somewhere. You could feel his big, warm hands on your waist, his fingers almost sneaking underneath your clothes and his rather noticeable nails tickling your skin.

You could also feel your feet stumbling a little on the floor so you knew he wasn't carrying you.

"Hey, pay attention!"

You snapped into reality a bit there, looking around. You weren't in the kitchen anymore. In fact, you were standing in the middle of a living room, right in front of a coffee table.

Mel's hands were all over you and Isamu was right next to you, fretting about whether or not you were going to fall over. The only one not touching you was Leonard who had his arms crossed, looking at you annoyed.

"Oh, sorry." Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what was happening "I don't know what's going on with me, I just--"

"It happens to the best of us." Mel waved your apology off, wolfish grin on his face as if he was quite proud of himself "Nobody can out-drink me, after all."

"I feel like none of you are drunk at all! Just me..." You groaned, forehead pressed against the crook of Mel's neck, arm around him tightening just a little bit.

Even with all of your strength, he didn't even budge one bit.

Isamu just chuckled nervously, his warm hand comforting as it rubbed up and down your back "Call it a buff guy's fast metabolism."

"Leonard isn't even buff!" You pouted at Isamu, your head suddenly flinging back to lean against his shoulder, looking at him with the sweetest puppy eyes.

Isamu stuttered, cheeks reddening "L-Leo didn't drink, di-didn't you see?"

You turned your head a little, cheek still resting against Isamu's shoulder as you squinted at Leonard.

Your memory was so hazy now, after the number of bottles you drank. You couldn't really remember how many bottles Leonard drank.

Or, really, how many bottles you or anyone drank.

"I think I need to lay down." You huffed, moving to go to the couch.

Before you could, Mel wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you close, his lips brushing against your ear "Woah, there, watch for the table."

You felt your ear immediately turn hot and so did your cheeks. You knew it definitely wasn't the alcohol either because you felt the heat between your legs a little too.

You cursed the three of them (especially Mel) for being so sexy.

Then, you looked down, glaring at the offending piece of furniture. You didn't think you were about to trip on it but it must've moved to foil you on your way.

"Thank you." You turned your head and, as you did, you underestimated how close Mel was and accidentally brushed your lips against the corner of his.

Instead of apologising, you just giggled and escaped his grasp when his arm went slack. You practically dove into the couch, unfolding the what felt like dozens of comfortable soft looking blankets and scattering the pillows.

You started arranging them around you, forming a little nest of sorts. You figured the giant sectional was where they'd put you up for the night so you might as well get comfortable.

You thought you heard the three of them muttering but you got so focused on getting your sleeping arrangements right that you couldn't find it in yourself to pay much attention.

It was wild to even see the sectional! You definitely couldn't complain! The thing could fit the four of you easy and then some! You would sleep comfortably by yourself!

"Well then!" Mel suddenly cleared his throat, making you flinch and turn your head to him (reminding him oddly like an adorable meerkat) "I guess we should leave you to get settled..."

In your daze, you missed both Isamu and Leonard huffing and shoving at Mel but you definitely didn't miss the way Mel took a step back, as if more than happy to leave.

Immediately, your eyes watered. "Wait, you didn't want to hang out more?"

The three of them panicked.

"Oh, no, no, you just looked like you were getting comfortable--"

"I-It's just that w-we just didn't want to get in your way--"

"Way to go, meat-head, you dumbass--"

You just crossed your arms and sniffled, trying to look as angry as possible "I'll forgive you if you hang out with me a little longer."

"I may be a little... emmm, inebriated but I'm not sleepy yet." You added, a little proud of yourself for being able to use such a big word.

Mel chuckled a little but nodded "Okay, sounds good. What do you want to do then?"

"Let's watch a movie!" You immediately pointed to the TV, grin on your face as you moved to lean against the back of the sectional, pillow in your arms and blanket draped over your lap. "C'mon, sit next to me."

At first, all three of them seemed to hesitate but, when Mel sat next to the arm of the sofa, Isamu and Leonard quickly followed.

Like in the kitchen, Leonard sat the closest to you, his shoulder bumping against yours. Isamu sat next to you too but he sat rather stiffly and, lastly, Mel sat on the other side of Isamu, his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa.

"What movie should we watch?"