Alternate Universe Fanfiction

Hope Daniels has spent her life mastering control, on the softball field, in school, and in the quiet spaces where emotions are better left unspoken. With college within reach and her future finally aligning, everything should feel safe, predictable… normal. Then she falls for Kade Mercer, her best friend’s older brother. He’s distant, unreadable, and always watching her like he already knows how their story ends. What begins as stolen glances and unspoken tension slowly pulls them toward something neither of them can stop. On the night everything shifts, Hope wakes in a world that is not her own. The sky is fractured. The air is alive. And creatures born from nightmares hunt anything that breathes. Stranded together for seven relentless days, Hope and Kade must survive a shifting, brutal realm where instinct is the only law and fear takes physical form. Every battle changes them. Every choice binds them closer. And every night reveals they are being watched by something far more dangerous than the monsters chasing them. But survival comes at a cost. Because when they wake back in their world, nothing is as it was. Time has not moved, but they have. The marks they carry begin to glow. The memories refuse to fade. And the line between worlds is beginning to tear again. Some doors are not meant to close. And some connections were never human to begin with. Hope thought she was fighting to survive seven days in another world. She was wrong. She was being chosen.

Earth was butchered, wrecked, and scared long before I was born. According to the legends, humans ruin began when the Viatores came into existence in the human world. Viatores are banished creatures from an alternate universe, weaklings who couldn't save their own world and as welcoming as humans are, we accepted them. Redemption, that was what they seeked here on earth but those backstabbing asswipes had other plans. A tyrant, a bastard, known as Nicholas Sylvester led the war. The Changeling. The human rulers had no chance. We were his little project to enslave. He and his seven Lords claimed all continents. On my eighteenth birthday, I was gifted to the King of all Benders: one whom no human dared look at, trembles at his presence. However, in this game of heart and truth, fate has its plan hidden.

Aurelia is the laughingstock of her kingdom. The last two years she has dressed in black following two failed love spells. This year will be different this year she'll meet Zinjo the werelion

Chiara Ravensworth is a witch—half Magickal, half Mundane. Her mother, a covert agent for the Council of Magickal Elders, lives in the shadows, while Chiara stays with her father in the ordinary world. Divorced but still in love, her parents’ strange balance mirrors Chiara’s own: caught between two realms, searching for where she truly belongs. Gideon Swan has no memory of his Magickal bloodline. Orphaned, bullied, and fiercely intelligent, he carved out a life in the mundane world posing as a ‘psychic.’ Now filthy rich and famously reclusive, Gideon is haunted by vivid dreams of a woman he’s never met—and by the violent, uncontrolled powers that surge within him, erupting in natural disasters. He hides from the world to protect it. Until Chiara appears at his door on a storm-torn evening—and something within him quiets for the first time. She’s the woman from his dreams. Bound by an ancient, rare bond—twin flames—their connection is both a gift and a curse. Together, they could become the greatest force for good the world has ever seen… or, as twin flames in history did, they destroy each other in the fire of their own making. While in the shadows, something dark and patient waits. It needs only one thing to rise: their union, so it could harness that flame for itself.

After my husband's first love, Sydney Edwards, used me as a walking blood bank, I died in the run-down rental apartment my billionaire husband, Casper Hawthorne, had tossed me into like it was a blessing for me. Today was the third day since I had died. My six-year-old son, Adam, finally realized something was wrong. He had cut his finger while playing with his toys, yet I did not comfort him. He tore open a packet of crackers and raised one to my mouth to feed me, but I did not stop him. He lay in my arms, clutching my clothes and whispering for me. Still, I did not answer. Lost and panicking, he found my phone and called his father, Casper. "Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?" The man sent back a photo of himself having New Year's Eve dinner with Sydney and said in a cold voice, "She's just sleeping, she's not dead. Today is New Year's Eve. I'm busy. Tell that clueless mom of yours that when she's ready to admit she was wrong, she can come and look for me." After the call ended, Adam stood there frozen for a long time. He picked up the last biscuit in the rental apartment from the trash can, broke it in half, and held one piece to my mouth. "Mom, let's eat too."

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."

Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy. Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me. But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye. At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us. We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together. But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician. "Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?" Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything." "And what if your husband and son find out?" She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it." So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie. The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved. Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

My husband did not love me, and he certainly did not love our child. On the day our son was born, he did not even glance at him. He merely tossed him into my arms. Then, his first love came back from overseas. That night, the ever-cold Henry had gotten drunk for the first time. He even smiled as he held our child in his arms. Delighted, our son wrapped his little arms around my husband's neck and asked me in a soft voice, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Uncle?” I crouched down, pulling him into my embrace. My eyes reddened as I explained, “Uncle's favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t bother him anymore. We’re going to find a new home.”

My boyfriend, Zayne Jefferson, is particularly gifted in certain ways. Every time we're intimate, he insists on trying something new. More than once, he gently coaxes me, saying, "Once you graduate, we'll get married." And I believe him. I throw myself into my studies, pushing hard to finish my credits early. At the same time, I secretly watch all kinds of videos at night and read up on techniques. I want to keep his body satisfied. One night, I stay up too late studying and miss curfew. I run to the bar to find him, where I overhear him chatting with his friends. "Zayne, is your girlfriend really that wild in bed?" one guy asks. "Of course. He trained her himself!" another guy says. "What about Yasmin?" Zayne exhales a stream of smoke, his eyes soft. "She's different. She's pure." In that moment, I begin to hate him. Back on campus, I make a call to my professor. "That secret program you mentioned… I want in." From this day on, my life belongs only to my career.

I begged my boss, Arthur Hutton, ninety-eight times for us to get officially married. Each time, he canceled our plans because his childhood sweetheart deliberately lured him away. On the ninety-ninth attempt, I waited for him at the city hall. Arthur simply patted my head and then put up a sign on the door that read, [Serena Xander and Dogs Not Allowed.] He said indifferently, “Millie’s throwing a fit, and I can’t calm her down. I need to marry her first. “I’ll divorce her, so just wait for me. Next Wednesday is a good day. I’ll marry you then.” But he did not know that I only had ninety-nine chances to give. I would be resigning the following week.