Series Synopsis: After a winged man from another universe manifests in your living room, you must do your best to help him blend into your world until he can find his way back home.
AO3 Link
Current Word Count: TBA
Status: Ongoing
Pairing: Phainon x F!Reader
Content Warnings: reverse isekai au, reader & co. are in college, the differences between amphoreus and earth are exaggerated for comedic effect, mostly fluff and humor and slice of life with some heavier moments (references to 3.x canon), roommate dan heng and best friend cyrene are heavily involved in these shenanigans i fear i just didn’t mention them in the summary, THIS IS A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR, possibly explicit chapters later on ?? but they will be tagged and i am still debating so i will edit this warning when i make up my mind, shorter chapters FOR ONCE
ONE
── “The wait is long. My dream of you does not end.” (O’Faolain, My Dream of You)
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Hello idk if you will read this or Tumblr would destroy it but I want to share something I find about Yandere fan so interesting.
In most Otome isekais and romantasy manhwas, they are set in mostly the Victorian era. In this era, specifically the late Victorian era, books about domestic lives were pretty popular among women and romance fans. So I find it interesting that the reader/MC can be in any book regardless of how ordinary or interesting their life can be because it doesn't matter, it can still be plausibly written in books and people can be fans of it in Yandere fans world. So it makes Yandere fan so terrifying yet interesting because even if you live a very peaceful and ordinary life, you can still be in a plausible book in another world!
Yes! And I just find the general contrast in the setting fun honestly. We are quite used to reading stories where the main character gets isekaid into that Victorian-esque fantasy world she used to read about. Her world is still the reality to both her and us, the readers.
But what if this normal, real modern world we are so used to is the fiction? What if we are the book character someone is currently reading about? We go to sleep each time they close the book, and when they go back to reading our everyday life continues.
Maybe there's someone out there who is currently spending a shit ton of money to get your can badge from the randomized goods, or maybe they are currently hanging a poster on their wall with your face on it. Maybe we have the oshikatsu culture we have now because it was actually invented in the real world and someone wrote it into our story.
Maybe there's a guy out there who read the book about you a billion times, has written x reader fanfictions about you and him from his Victorian style mansion and is insane about you so much so that he'll get involved with some fucked up magic to make you, his oshi, real.
Reverse isekai... Caleb... Cat... Part 2 Link Ao3 Link
Caleb loved you more than anything in this world.
Or at least, that's what you would've liked to imagine if he was real. But he isn't. And you're not in a pixelated little world called Linkon City and none of your hopes and dreams about having a happily ever after with your military husband and childhood best friend were coming true.
You stared at the fanfic left open on the phone screen, wishing to see your husband in your dreams to ease the ache of loving someone you could never have while in your loneliest moments.
If only he could be real. If only he could become real from Astra knows what power and fall in love all over again. With you this time instead of the MC who seemed to resemble anything but you. If only. Too much to ask for, yes, you know.
No, he wasn't real, and no, he wasn't there to fall in love with you as you did with him. And you had your own life to live and work to do and tough times to get through on your own tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that.
So, leaving you no other choice, you drifted off to sleep as the delusion shattering ache in your heart seeped in.
-
It was raining. You opened up your umbrella next to the entrance of your workplace, greeting your coworkers goodbye. You were tired. Your brain was fried from working since morning and you felt like the walking dead.
The thoughts of cooking something up for dinner made you feel like flopping down on the sidewalk you were walking on and passing out. You had the free will to do that, of course, but the rain pitter pattering along with your dragged steps only reminded you of all the cleaning you would have to do after practicing your so-called free will.
The street lights turned on and you continued onward, just a block away from your home.
As you walked by an alleyway, your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the sound of metal clashing onto the ground. You froze, holding your breath as you turned around.
You waited.
One beat. Two beats.
Nothing.
And then, there it was again, the sound of something thuding around.
Without thinking, you made your way towards the source of the sound, your heart bearing in your ears. A dumpster came into view.
Something, or someone, seemed to be struggling inside. You called out.
“Hello..? Is anyone in there..?” Your voice trembled.
No reply.
You slowly got close to the dumpster and opened the cover with shaking hands.
Widened blue-pink eyes with a pair of black ears and tail stared up at you through the piles of garbage.
“What the fuck?”
-
The cat jumped out of your hold as soon as you entered your home, shaking off water from its fur and scampering away from you as fast as it could while you were struggling to put down the wet umbrella.
“Okay, rude? I bring you home with me to avoid the guilty conscience that would follow tomorrow if I found you dead from the cold somewhere and you pay me off by drenching my floorboards!”
You let out a frustrated sigh.
He silently watched you from a corner of the room as you made your way to the kitchen island to wash off your hands.
“Make yourself at home, I guess..” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him.
I have a cat in my apartment. What now?
-
First and foremost, it was bathtime. You were NOT about to let a stinky ass wet fur ball run around your home.
You tried to pick him up again but he bolted around the living room, paw pads making skittering noises in the process.
After about 10 minutes of running around, you gave up, standing defeated. You called out to him as a last resort.
“I just want to give you a bath. Please.”
“Mreow!” He protested, sitting on top of the kitchen island.
“Fine. Whatever. Live with the stink all you want. I'm tired and you're taking up my gaming time.” You rolled your eyes.
Maybe leaving him alone for a while will ease him a little.. You hoped.
And so, you turned around and sat down on the couch with the TV remote in hand, ready to open YouTube and rewatch the same goddamn trailer for the 100th time.
[Love and Deepspace | Caleb's Trailer]
-
He didn't know how he ended up here. One moment he was feeling immense, needle pricking pain across his entire body, the next he was in a dumpster. With paws instead of hands. And the world seemed thrice as large and intimidating.
Well, At least I have shelter from the rain for now.. Though I feel like a wet rat.
He watched you settle down on the couch.
I wonder how long I can stay here. I need to figure things out..
Then, he heard something that caught his eye.
“What, you don't recognize me?”
He stared at the video playing on the TV screen.
“Did you honestly think I would always be the kind hearted boy from your childhood?”
His ears perked up, all pointy, and his eyes widened.
That's me.
He watched as the figure on the screen bit an apple as lightning flashed in the background.
That. Is. Me. On the TV.
A/N: Interest check? Very self indulgent... Kinda, sorta, really wanna turn this into a one-shot fic maybe... Haha.. Ha.. But I'll have to play through all the content released in the past few months.. 😭
Wrote this half asleep someone bonk me to sleep please
I came upon this post I saved and my mind can't help the daydream.
OK, so imagine this:
You, a L&Ds player, wake up one morning to go to the bathroom or get a before-breakfast snack or something and you hear your shower running.
When you LIVE ALONE.
So now you're freaking out and thinking "what the fuck.." and hesitantly tip toe up to the bathroom.
Only to see FUCKING SYLUS washing himself up in your shower grumbling to himself about being up so damn early (remember, this man is nocturnal. Our day is his night) as if he owns the damn place.
Mind.exe has stopped working.
You don't know how damn long you were standing there oogaling his sexy ass body while faintly wondering HOW AND WHY THIS IS HAPPENING, until you notice he's staring right back with his smug ass smirk and a raised eyebrow.
"Are you looking to join me Darling? Cause I have no objections."
You try your damn best to form some kind of sentence (or even just a word) but your mouth and brain have decided they don't wanna work. Sylus only knowingly chuckles and steps out of the shower and walks over to you (STILL FULLY NUDE) and tilts your head up to look at him.
"Hurry Sweetie, or I'll have to take your silence as a yes." He leans down to whisper in your ear. "And help you out of those clothes myself."
Super short, I know, and readers are still waiting for Chapter 8 of BBF (I'm working on it, I promise! 😭) but I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing that fic again and felt the need to write it down.
I think Bingge would be extremely impressed by how "imperfect" people are in the modern world.
Instead of being drawn to the posters of bikini models or all those perfect idol commercials, his gaze wanders to an older woman with wrinkles on her face, that woman with hands tanned by hard work in the fields and skin stained by the sun, a young girl with acne scars that tries to go unnoticed, or he just marvels at people who do not meet hegemonic beauty standards.
He is foolishly amazed by all the body types that are outside of the hegemonic standards, all kinds of features on faces he's never seen. Because, of course, in a world where everyone is so unrealistically perfect for an pervert audience, what else would capture Bingge's attention than faces and bodies outside the hegemonic standard he has known all his life?
(This also has my chubby Shen Yuan agenda and Bingge being an absolute simp for him and how much he's never met anyone like him in every aspect, but I could develop that at another time)
(Btw, if you think you're not pretty because you don't meet the hegemonic beauty standards, don't worry about it!! From now on I say that Bingge would probably find you very beautiful in his aesthetic appreciation.)
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no cause in reverse isekai right the characters just randomly show up out of the blue in our world in your home
so what if you are in public or even worse in school 😨😨 wuh oh security alert
imagine you were taking a hike along a nature trail alone. then you hear rustling coming from somewhere but you couldn't pinpoint where. it sounded like a bunch of footsteps, whispering and giggling. but you couldn't see anyone in the distance. cold sweat dripped down your neck as you told yourself "no ghosts aren't real, i'm not being haunted."
you decided to get out of there as soon as possible and never return since this place just gave off a weird aura now cause of this. suddenly, you saw something that looked eerily like a face among the darkness of the trees and bushes. you screamed and made a run for it as fast as possible, not looking back.
the characters saw you running and realised they had fucked up somehow and started chasing after you. "___, wait! we're sorry!! it's us!!" they cried out.
This was in my drafts for ages lmaoo I just remembered it existed. Not really sure how I feel about it. Mainly setting the scene/a concept that I might build on later.
ft Rerir as an antagonist, isekai basically, setting is a church but reader is mentioned as not religious
1.1k+ words
There is a graveyard behind the church you walk past on your daily commute. It is ordinary, if not dark in areas where light should illuminate, and quite full with bodies, a home to many mumbling ghosts you make no effort to engage with. Most often, they only shout out their regrets to you, as if you could somehow turn back the clock and do something about it, as if you have any power at all beyond being able to see the wispy figures that are grey around the edges with age.
You’ve long stopped being surprised when you see a spirit tailing someone on the street, long stopped confusing one for someone who is alive, with blood in their veins. They’re a world apart, and things beyond death’s border can not crawl back.
So, when you see a lantern flickering with strained hues of bright blue and purple, glowing with something livelier than the finality of death, you find yourself more curious than you have been in a long time.
The moon is full and large, yellowish and bright behind the branches of a tree. The church is backlit like some kind of grandiose temple, though you barely see anyone enter or leave anymore. The night is eerily quiet, and you even wonder absently if you had crossed over to the other plane yourself.
Not a moment passes before the lantern’s flame dims, and you think that maybe this will be the end of things.
A crushing sensation wracks your whole body, something you recognise as your soul being touched and grasped in something like a large fist, and you clench your teeth to focus on rebuilding the protective barriers around it. Souls are something you’re innately aware of, and you strongly desire for yours to remain your own.
Kicking out a leg behind you, you can feel it go through a body so viscous and cold your own temperature drops. You know, then, that this entity is too powerful for a weak ghost whisperer like you. Nonetheless, you brace yourself; a fight like this will take everything you have, but you don’t plan on going down easy. Will you become one of the mumbling ghosts sitting beside their graves with their head in their hands?
A brilliant purple flame bursts forth, emerging from the lantern—or perhaps it is the lantern itself—before passing through you and causing whatever was behind you to release your soul. Warmth does not come from the flames but from your own relief.
After gathering yourself, you turn around to face a thing swathed in deep black bandages, all clawed hands and pinkish extremities and white hair, with a high collar that mirrored that of the figure with its back to you.
“Persistent fae,” it all but growls behind the bandages at its mouth, “I will turn you to dust if you do not relinquish my heart.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be happening,” the Fae says, summoning a tall spear, “Leader of the Wild Hunt.”
As they butt heads in a dance of blade and claw, you stay well back; this is not your fight, nor do you know either of their motives. Still, you condense a portion of your will in an attempt to help the fae, since he had saved you so kindly. You can’t do much with your measly power, but surely it’s better than doing nothing at all.
Both men are well in battle, though they make a racket you are glad others are blissfully unaware of. Crossing your arms anxiously, you take note of the occasional piece of gravel being kicked up, discerning that their bodies are somewhat corporeal, which is unsettling. The Wild Hunt… You have never heard of it.
It comes suddenly: the fae is thrown a distance away, landing none too softly on one knee and muttering an echo of words in some lost language. Stalking towards him is the probable antagonist, murderous intent clear, and there is nothing you can do about it. Digging your nails into your arms, you watch from the sidelines as a helpless civilian who knows too much yet cannot act. If that fae is dust, will that other thing run rampant?
However, the fae slips into a lunging stance unnoticed, tightening his grip on his polearm, waiting. Waiting for an opening. If that’s all you need to do, far be it from you to run now. You press your lips together. There’s nothing to use but yourself.
“Hey, big boy!” You make yourself known again before you can think out your words, almost regretting it when his eyes pierce yours. But the fae strikes hard and fast, landing a few hits before the other can block. One, aimed at the centre of his chest, seems to incapacitate him, and it’s then that he retreats into some kind of portal as if realising an exploitable weakness. An unsettling silence comes after.
The fae turns to face you, lips pulled taut in what might be a grimace. He walks toward you, posture proper, long hair like something regal, and a fitted coat with torn ends. Inclining his head, he smiles politely, contrasting the shadow of a grave-set expression.
“My sincere apologies for getting you caught up in such a fight, miss.”
You take a breath, quite awed by his manner of speaking. Just who is he?
“Please, you saved me,” you smile back, placing a hand over your heart. “Thank you.”
The man's face relaxes marginally before he slips into a full bow. “My name is Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins, though just Flins will suffice,” he says, tone soft. “May I ask who I have the honour of meeting at this nightly hour?”
You give your name as he straightens, eyes never straying from each other. It’s an odd feeling, not as if he’s worlds away like the regular ghosts you see.
“And who might you be, Flins?” You ask with unconcealed curiosity, tilting your head to the side, studying the draping silver chains and lantern hanging from his belt.
“You are quite perceptive,” he says vaguely, placing a hand behind his back. “I am a Lightkeeper, though I don’t suppose that is the answer you wish to hear. I appear to have entered a place unknown to me.”
“You don’t know where you are?” You ask, confused and a little sad. “A Lightkeeper…”
“Are you unfamiliar with the term?” Flins asks.
“A little. I don’t think they’re common here.”
Flins hums, looking up at the church he had appeared at the doorstep of with an intrigued set of the brow. “Which archon do you worship?”
“Archon?” You mumble, assuming what he means based on context. “W–well, I don’t personally worship any gods, but I think this is a Catholic church.”
Turning back to face you, Flins crosses his arms, placing a thoughtful, gloved finger on his chin. “This may well be a lot to ask, but would you mind accompanying me whilst I am situated in this foreign world?”
You smile, nodding after little thought. Are you biting off more than you can chew?
Hello everyone!! Today is the day of the final chapter of my reverse isekai au, “skip the exit to our old street and go home”.
As such, I’m making a big art post to celebrate!! I’ll reblog this later with answers to some questions that weren’t in the fic, so if you’re a fan of the au please feel free to ask me anything!!
The au can be found here. Please check it out if you’re curious, and happy finale day!!
