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NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[peep-is-writing]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[peep-is-writing]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

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worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

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feels like fake news

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Chapter 1 of The Empty World:

Warnings: there will be swearing because swearing is fun. There will also be nsfw in later chapters, because this is also fun. Nothing and no one tells me what to write.

If you are younger than 18 years old: GO AWAY I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU. Sorry kids. This is an 18+ story and I’m working on putting everything under a read more so no one stumbles across it. Please be patient.

Where is everyone?

As cliche as it might sound, Mel’s day truly did started like any other: with the sound of her alarm. She never did get up on the first ring, and often referred to the many times hitting the snooze button as time to process being alive. She really needed them today, she felt like she was coming out of hibernation or something. Eventually she got up, went to the bathroom, got dressed, and was out the door by 6:40. It was a comfortable routine that she had worked to perfect so she could have a 15 minute buffer in case there was excessive traffic, and also gave her just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab everything she needed before she started her shift. It was hard being a baby teacher, but the little faces of her students made it all worthwhile.

The first odd thing of the day was barely noticed: the neighbor’s dogs didn’t bark as she walked past their apartment. It was odd, but elicited more of a sigh of relief rather than any red flag. “The dogs must be just as tired as I am,” Mel thought to herself. It’s not like she held a grudge against their barking, it was their nature, and she loved to pet them when she got the chance.

It was just as quiet outside, which wasn’t too odd either. It was late January, and Mel didn’t even pause to think about it before turning on her music and starting her commute.

Mel always had a seed or two of worry in her gut. Anxiety was something she had learned to live around since she was a kid, after all. But there was one that started to slowly crack open as she noticed something:

there were no other cars on the road.

Mel checked the clock in her dashboard, and then her watch. It was definitely 6:45, and no matter how early her shift was there was always someone on the road. It was something Mel could easily dismiss, but that seed of worry let out its first little tendril, finding purchase in the depth of her gut.

The lights were off in the local coffee shop. Mel always went through the drive through for a donut before work. All part of her comfortable routine. She dutifully drove around the small building looking for signs of life, even waited a bit at the speaker, but there was no response except for the automated greeting.

Mel’s eyebrows furrowed, just a pout of uncertainty. This place was always open in the mornings but there was not a soul in sight.

Mel was uneasy as she continued to work, but continued to brush off her worry even as she traveled the empty road the seed of worry had rooted itself firmly in the foundation of her gut and began to creep upwards.

A tendril curled itself around her heart as she pulled into the small parking lot of the preschool. There wasn’t a single car in the lot except for the bus used to take the older kids to school. There wasn’t anyone parked in the street either. It didn’t make any sense, the school should have been open for at least an hour and by LAW there had to be two employees in the building as long as there were any kids.

Mel checked her phone. It wasn’t the weekend. It was a Wednesday, and school was almost never cancelled on a Wednesday. She looked at the work schedule, and there she was scheduled to start at 7:30. She sent a quick text asking where everyone was, and then checked her phone to see what day it was.

But the date displayed by her phone made no sense, because there is no such date as January 33. That is not how dates work. You know that, I know that, and Mel knew that. It was not something that should be possible, how could a phone even glitch like that? It connected to the internet automatically and surely SOMEONE would have fixed it by now!

Now, I could go into the details of everyone she called, every person she texted, every place she went, but the simple truth is that Mel could not find or contact a single other human being. Not only that, but she couldn’t even find any animals. There were no cats, dogs, birds, ANYTHING.

Other than the absence of any living things that Mel could see, there was no evidence of what had happened. It would have almost been better if she had found a body, blood, any of the gruesome details that Mel had come to expect from apocalypse movies. But there was nothing. No clues, no answers. Just questions. It was like everything on earth had just dropped what they were doing and vanished.

The seed of anxiety that had sprouted that morning had been growing steadily throughout the day. It pushed itself into the chambers of her heart, wrapped itself around her lungs, and crept up her spine and into her skull.

The bramble of her brain was budding with questions as she drove along the lonely road. The machete of reason had broken hours ago, and she no longer had any defense from the greenery that threatened to burst from her eyes. The only question you need to know is the one that broke her:

What happened to the babies?

The full bloom of Hysteria finally took hold of Mel. Tears blossomed from her eyes as the bramble crushed her heart and choked her lungs with desperate sobs. She could barely keep her eyes open as she cried out at the horrific realization that whatever had happened to the creatures of this empty hellish world had also happened to the little humans that she had built her life around. In the absence of any information, her brain filled in the blanks with nebulous and malicious horrors.

She had to stop the car.

She stepped on the brakes, careful not to slam or swerve, but she did not pull off to the side of the road. Mel would have been grateful if someone had run into her, if they had honked their horn, ANYTHING to break the spell and return her to the world she knew. But the seed that started it all sat heavy as a stone in her gut, solid and undeniable as the steering wheel of her car: something horrible had happened. And Mel could no longer hide behind rationalization, because this WAS her new reality.

Mel sat there until her sobbing finally died down. She felt so hollow. All she could do was stare out of her window at the empty sky, nothing but clouds.

No.

There was something.

A single trail of smoke going directly into the sky.

Not a sign of life in itself, but where there is smoke there is fire, and where there is fire there are probably humans.

Mel didn’t know whether it was a flare, a cooking fire, or just the start of some accidental blaze. But it was the only source of hope she had and she knew that it wouldn’t be long until the wind blew it away.

Without another thought she put her car into gear and sped off in search of whatever answers this clue led to.

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THIS

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do u ever see someone elses headcannon for ur fave character and its like….. i completely respect that u have the right to that headcannon, i will not confront u at all and start needless bullshit over that headcannon…. but i will silently sit here and give you the sideways glance of the century

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My therapist just told me my problem is that I need to write more fanfiction.

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The way my brain works is constant overlapping thoughts and frequent cross-contamination. I've currently got a small cut on my finger, and trying to wash my hands without getting the bandaid wet, I was thinking about how if I had to explain germ theory to somebody from a pre-modern historical era, it really would be easier to explain them as invisible spirits that inhabit all physical things and sometimes cause disease, than to confuse them further by talking about how there's teeny tiny bugs on your skin and then get distracted into talking about atoms and physics.

And simultaneously on another tab there was another monologue going about how there is also good bacteria on your skin, and apparently some poor misguided teens on TikTok have been convinced that all bacteria on your skin is bad, and are absolutely wrecking their natural skin flora by regularly using antibacterial soap for routine everyday washing.

Then the thought cross contamination jump happened, and a third hybrid thought spontaneously manifested: What if supernatural entities work like bacteria, and doing excessive evil spirit banishing will also get rid of your good spirits that you need to be balanced and healthy? Like you don't have a demon problem because you're not burning enough sage, the problem is that you're doing too many cleanses and purifications, essentially scrubbing your home raw and so sterile that your house guardian decided that it's uninhabitable and fucked off.

And that's why you've got evil spirits in your house. You scrubbed off all the ones that are good for you.

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oh no my pornography is turning into an angst-filled character study