#orignal fiction

[growingstoriesandgardens]

Under The Arbor

A short story, First Part coming January 2024.

All fox cubs leaves their mothers den eventually. They set out out, and become their own hunter, den builder and protecter. Providing for themselves and if blessed, eventually kits of their own before sending them out on the same journey. The forest can be scary to new residents but full of potenal for young yearling foxes making a place of their own. Fall Leaf is so sure of being ready. But how much her certeintly will be tested is yet to be discovered as winters frost creeps in around her.

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

Did you know I have a Patreon for my orignal writing?

If not and you happen to like my fics, I encourage you to check it out! Everything is completely free to read. The goal was to have a place for my own orignal writing to live and be checked out whenever I do write some.

There isn't much on there, but things you can enjoy reading:

Under The Arbor is a finished, 5 part short story about a young fox taking her first steps out of her mothers den, and how she leaps into the life of an adult fox.

Flower Of Elsie is a short flash fic dumping a bit of random lore about a flower. Unconnected to any larger project at this time, a fun little one off about a fantastical flower.

And importantly: more planned to come very soon! Including poems, and more orignal short stories.

Check it out if any of this sounds of any interest to you :).

[andyfire122]

Fictober24 day 23 "We can fix this, I know we can."

Sarah just took Aki by the hand and guided her to their couch. Today had been a very eventful one. There hadn't been an incident that required her to have a meeting in heaven in almost 150 years. Then, all of a sudden, she was called to talk with arch angles of all things.

They never asked her to do anything unless it was bad. The perks of being an unregistered half-breed. When they have a task they need to do, and they can't do it being bound by ancient celestial powers. They turn to all half-breeds.

It's why a lot of those are born just to do something specific.

"Hey, it's alright. You can calm your fussing." She was just sitting with Aki at this point.

Even though they allowed our relationship, it was something a lot of them judged her for. That's not for them to decide. She can protect me even after choosing to love me.

Aki just looked at Sarah with fear and uncertainty. "You were just asked to take on something that could be devastating for the world. That isn't something to send one person."

"An entire person was written out of the world's history. Well, according to them it's more like the side effect would have had this written off as a death. Though I'm no detective." Sarah was trying to play off how vague the assignment was.

It wouldn't have been caught so soon by the heavenly host if whoever was taken out of their path didn't affect entire groups of people.

Aki just takes Sarah’s hands and holds one to her face. “I just don’t want them to take you as well. Your impact is still so important. Even if it’s just because I know you.”

She did say that with zero hesitation.

"I would agree with you, but they made a point. It did start with my mother. The heavenly host put all responsibility for what she did on me." Her mother lost her sanity after her birth. After so many years, she's had less resentment of that judgment.

I have thoughts on this. They are lovely thoughts. However, right now there are more important things than thinking too hard on the dead.

“We’ll fix this, I know we can. Then we can go eat as many pastries as you want.”

Before Aki could pout at that comment, Sarah turned her back to the angel and let her wings emerge. This entire gesture always left the redhead speechless. The downside was that Sarah never got to see her expression from it.

Her wings were precious to her. As a child, Sarah lost her original pair of wings. She got them back in a very painful ritual. That just made her value her wings even more. The joy of flying was one of the biggest moments in her 200 or so years of living.

To ask someone to preen her wings was putting trust that they would be taken care of. Before Aki returned to her, she would occasionally ask the demon Eric to help her preen. Though now there is only one person she would ask.

We both need to calm down with something like this. Besides..she always loved my feathers.

"Alright, but I promise you, Sarah. I won't leave again once this is done. I know you didn't have any anger about what happened the last time, but It's just me wanting you to be with me. Happy and smiling always suited you."

Sarah just smiles as she closes her eyes relaxing as her wings get preened. "Do you think I would be willing to let you go after I just got you again? My rainbow to add sun to my life."

[lilacxquartz]

an imp in fae’s clothing;

yandere m!fae x f!reader

plot: while you were minding your own business, you catch the attention of a fae who you couldn’t seem to shake off.

summary: upon taking care of a problem, eloryn tries to offer you an explanation for everything • < previous chapter • next chapter > • read on ao3 • original works masterlist • chapter directory

Chapter 4. Backgrounds

By the time Eloryn had returned, it was starting to get bright outside. You saw his silhouette enter, and then as the bleeding moonlight from your window highlighted the aftermath of what he went through. Blood clung to his body—to his clothes—slowly burning away like glittering embers, evaporating into the air.

You sat up ever so slightly, pushing yourself to lean back on your elbows. “Is… is it gone?”

Eloryn dusted off his hands, flicking an invisible dusting of filth with a disgusted sigh. “It’s gone, yes,” he replied carefully, “took a bit of convincing though, and a whole lot of hurting.”

His eyes drifted back to look at you, taking in the way you were tucked into bed. You were still drunk, but not as horribly as you were just hours ago. It seemed that for the most part, the worst of it had subsided. He smiled in approval, which left you feeling comforted from the unsettling situation, not knowing that it was because he felt some pride from you being able to do as you were told when it mattered to listen.

“It… sounded so much like you,” you admitted with a soft murmur, biting back a yawn. “I was so close to opening up the door.”

Eloryn gulped a lump in his throat away, thankful that you didn’t. “But then you remembered an important detail, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “You don’t use doors.”

He smiled, taking up a seat on the bed. “I’m glad you’re learning,” he said, leaning forward. He wanted to cup your face in his hands, but then a debilitating pain shot through. His hand shot to his forehead before dragging it down his cheek in a pained hiss.

You sat up straighter, souring your nose at the scent of burning flesh. Your eyes narrowed and trained onto his scar that seemed to have grown longer, now traveling down his throat, meeting at his collarbones.

“What is th—” you started.

He forced a smile, although it was surely strained. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“But you’re hurt,” you pressed.

Elo sighed in response, lifting his head and blinking up to the ceiling. He tried to smile again, even as his hands curled into tight fists, doing everything he could to settle the pain. “Just a little consequence from my realm,” he muttered, “it likes to punish those who meddle in yours.”

You wanted to ask him more about the matter, especially since you were still lost in the world he supposedly came from, but you didn’t even know where to start.

“But that isn’t fair,” you protested slightly. Your voice came in a slight slur as you tried to think of a suitable response, but your alcohol-addled mind didn’t let you get very far.

Elo snorted as he considered the matter. “Well, it isn’t, but neither is the thought of something harming you.”

His eyes drifted over to your own, locking in on the sight of you lying so close to him. There was a possessive glint that sparked in the depths, his good pupil flashing with an adoring look. “I’ll gladly take the pain if I must.”

You stiffened, unsure of what to even say. Your mind wandered again instead, zoning out to wonder what might have happened if you pushed him away for good and what that thing might have done. He, in turn, slowly bridged the distance, coming to pull you closer to his chest as he lay back, both looking and sounding utterly exhausted. His hand idly stroked your arm as he leaned against you, his head tilting to take in as much of your scent as he could before letting out a deep exhale.

“I suppose,” he said after a while of silence, “that I should explain more.”

You blinked your eyes open, not quite asleep but not quite awake either. “Hmm?”

“I mean, all of this is my fault because I exposed you to it, even if I didn’t mean to do so,” he clarified, nervously laughing in a way that almost threw you off. “The fae realm—where I’m from—is a world hidden from humans. Some people might have a stronger connection to it, like you, my lovely one. But humans aren’t supposed to see it in full. Just glimpses at most.”

He rotated you ever so slightly, settling you on your side so that he could look and face you directly. “That’s where all the stories come from, by the way.”

“Stories?” you probed.

“You call us folklore, don’t you?” Eloyrn asked. “Strange little creatures that you might catch from the corner of your eye or lurking in the dark somewhere that’ll disappear if you blink.”

You listened along, flinching at the sound of thunder breaking out just outside. The clouds laced in the remainder of the stars and the moon, plunging you both into darkness, save for when the lightning flashed. Rain poured against the window and tapped along the panes. Eloryn snorted a half-laugh at your scared reaction, finding it endearing. There was something about you that brought out his gentler side, and he reached out the back of his finger to smooth along your cheek, hoping to comfort you.

He continued in a level voice, trying to sound soothing, “Sometimes, beings from my realm can breach into your world, but it’s very rare. I believe humans call those hauntings. Or, rather, when an entity has a very strong tie with a place. You can only see me because I interacted with you a lot, for example.”

You blinked, catching onto a detail. “Hauntings…?”

Elo nodded. “Well, all of those sightings that people claim to be ghosts are real to an extent. They’re corrupted fae, or creatures that have strayed from their intended path in life. If a being has negative intent, then it’ll corrupt itself like that too, the longer it’s away from home.”

You nodded as he spoke, the lightning night slowly colouring in his features. It was still quite dark, especially with the storm outside, but it wasn’t too bad now. A thought then entered your mind.

“Was…” you began, catching his attention, “was the mimic a normal person before?”

Eloryn smiled. “Yes, the mimic was likely a fae who had become corrupted. Things like ghosts, imps, and other beings that humans don’t quite like are real and are the result of too much meddling. Beings that are stuck in between realms become a sort of anomaly. They’re too corrupt to return to the homeland, but they’re not exactly welcome in your world either.”

“Will that happen to you too?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Yes and no,” he replied, “I’m not here from ill intent, unlike that thing.”

You gulped and pushed the worry aside. Even if Eloryn’s arrival in your life was sudden, you supposed that he had good intentions. You hadn’t known him for very long, but it seemed to be different for him. Somehow, this wasn’t a red flag for you because he never abused his power or position. Besides that point, he didn’t seem bad company. Maybe you were wrong to push him away? At the same time, though, there was something about him that you just couldn’t push past. Something that he was surely keeping from you, which made you a little uncertain.

“Oh, okay,” you replied to him after a moment. “So, the things that are left behind in my world are like… cryptids?”

Eloryn blinked as if caught off guard, but then smiled. “Yes, I suppose so. To you and anyone else who has a stronger connection towards beings like myself, these creatures are visible enough to be seen momentarily, even if their presence doesn’t entirely linger.”

He then paused and leaned in even closer to you, ghosting his breath over your face. He looked at you as if he felt sorry for you, causing that strange feeling of suspicion you had for him to resurface. His fingertips traced paths over your skin, leaving goosebumps behind, sighing deeply to himself as he did that.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Just fine,” he murmured, but then stilled his hand, “it’s just… it wasn’t always this way.”

You blinked at him, focusing your gaze.

“There used to be more of an overlap,” he added, dropping his hand from your face, “but humanity, as it is now, grew too fast. People were always exploring, settling, expanding, and… exploiting, and the fae, well, they’re different; they like to settle somewhere and leave the free hand behind for the rest of the living things. There’s an old saying we have, it goes something like we’re the root, whereas humans are the weed. Though, I suppose that’s an insult.”

You stayed quiet as he continued.

“So, when humanity started to build all of those cities and began moving forward by inventing all of those things that we’d only ever hear in stories, the fae got left behind,” he explained. “Out of choice, mind you, but still. Humanity became less about integrating magic and forging their own power. That’s what created the divide. The fae don’t like to share what should only be used for good.”

He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along your skin once more in an attempt to soothe himself. “We are certainly a stubborn bunch, though. There’s a lot that our kind might benefit from humans as well as the other way around.”

“Why would the fae need humans?” you asked softly.

“Well, we’re not quite as plentiful as humans, but there’s a lot of us by now,” Elo replied, considering his next words carefully. “We might benefit more than we want to admit from things like modern agriculture because feeding everyone fairly isn’t as elegant or equal as it used to be - comfort is one of those things too,” he tried to then joke, “we don’t have electric fans or air conditioner to cool us down when it gets too warm.”

You opened up your mouth, letting it hang for a moment before speaking, feeling your hangover settle into a headache. “Oh, that makes sense. I can’t imagine my life without a lot of the convenient technology we have today…”

“Correct,” he nodded, tapping your nose, “although some fae are trying to bridge such a gap. Scholars and researchers who are trying to find an in-between that can benefit the fae without needing to involve humans. Others go further and ask for dissolution, which is essentially a one-way trip into the human realms, but that means giving up their status as a magical being.”

You frowned, not understanding why someone would choose the mundane. “And why would someone want to do that?”

Eloryn shrugged. “Curiosity, I suppose. Avoiding corruption through dubious means of transport, too. The more you move in between realms, the more messed up you risk becoming. Hell, even I used to be much more handsome before I started to get involved in this whole mess,” he laughed to himself before making an effort to level his voice. “But dissolution just essentially means… that they’ll cross over permanently and then will later die as humans.”

“What does this mean exactly?” you caught on. “Die as humans? Do they lose their status as fae completely? Or do the fae simply not die…?”

“Of course we die, as living things must eventually do,” Eloryn corrected you, “just as not as quickly as your kind does. Humans focused on quick expansion—on claiming as much as they could—on multiplying. You’re all like shooting stars, bright and beautiful, but gone within a blink.”

“And the fae?” you asked apprehensively.

“We take our time,” he replied, his tone twisting into amusement, “eighty years might be enough time for a person to say goodbye forever, but for a fae, that’s around the end of puberty. Adulthood is closer to just over a century.”

“W-wait,” you shot out, sitting up a little. “How old are you?”

Eloryn paused, realising his mistake. He tilted his head as he tried to find an answer that would comfort you. “Relative to you, we’re around the same age. If you’re in your twenties, then I’m around that, more or less, at least emotionally.”

You narrowed your eyes again as he feared, not accepting that answer.

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I’m just over a hundred and thirty…”

You blinked at him in stunned silence.

“You’re… older than both of my parents and my grandparents…” you pointed out.

Eloryn took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t mess things up with you. “Yes… Does that bother you?”

You thought about it for a moment, watching as Eloryn started to fidget with his thumbs, looking around the room. It was clear that his age gap with you bothered him, but you also supposed that he didn’t look all that much different than you, and besides that, he wasn’t human.

“It doesn’t,” you settled on.

Eloryn smiled and wanted to talk more on the subject, but then you said something else first.

“Also, when you said that the fae can benefit from humans - I don’t think that they should try contacting them if so, like, genuinely keep trying to do it secretly,” you suggested.

He tilted his head to the other side that time.

“It’s just… we barely get along with each other,” you reasoned.

He snorted and then sighed, allowing his body language to relax with his voice. “Maybe you’re right. Your kind has been fighting with itself for as long as I can remember. It’s in our history books, too.”

You frowned. “That’s kind of concerning, I’m not sure I like being a human if this is how we all are…”

“Well,” Eloryn shrugged again, “you’re not like most of them. You’re kind and you can get along with me well enough, which either makes you insane or adaptable. But also, my lovely, please listen to me right now, because I need to explain a point to you.”

“Oh?” you softly asked.

“I dragged you into this mess, even if unintentionally, and now I’m going to assume responsibility for this,” he added, reaching for your hand. “I’m not asking for much, but I’m just telling you to be careful. Don’t pay attention to anything strange or out of place for very long. Don’t look into a mirror if it seems too dark. Don’t pay any mind to those insistent shadows out of the corner of your eye, and also, of course, don’t answer the door if you have a bad feeling.”

“I-I won’t,” you tried to promise.

Eloryn, however, needed to make sure you understood this thoroughly. The darker glint in his eye returned, focusing on you with determination. “I’m serious,” he strained. “Things from my realm, if they’re here, are not supposed to be here. Yes, you can argue that most things trapped here are harmless and are just trying to get by, but there are a significant few that will hurt you badly if they think you can see them.”

You gulped, unable to reply at that time. At best, you let out a shaky nod.

Eloryn fell back slightly, realising that he was scaring you. He exhaled and bit his tongue before moving in with a softer approach. “I don’t mean to make you afraid, it’s just…” he trailed off, trying to explain it to you in a way that you could understand, “long gone are the days when humans left out treats for hobgoblins or built shelters for the sprites in the gardens. Those were different times—softer times—the creatures you’ll encounter now are not the same sort that would bless your doorstep or leave you acorn bread for when you’re hungry.”

You tried to speak again, “I’ll be extra careful—”

Eloryn, however, wasn’t done talking yet. “If something happens to you, I won’t forgive myself. Just… now that you can see me, utilise that. Call for me when you’re unsafe, even if it makes you look insane. Just say my name and I’ll be there.”

“What if… there’s a chance that you can’t be?” you asked him, getting the worst case out of the way.

Eloryn frowned but supposed that it was a valid question. “If you don’t feel my presence, then run. There are certain places that evil things dislike. Places with many wind chimes or dream catchers, or mossy woods with mushrooms that are growing in a circle. Hang up some of those things while you’re at it, here. I’d rest so much easier if you were better protected.”

“Okay—” you tried again, trying to calm him down.

“—Promise me—”

“—I promise,” you said without skipping a beat, “I’ll call for you and I’ll go to places with wind chimes and I’ll decorate my home and—”

He caught you mid-sentence, crushing your face and form into his body to calm himself down more than you, and then, after a while, he finally relaxed his hold on you.

As you lay there for a moment, you tried to ask something that had been on your mind for a while. “Hey…”

“Still awake,” he murmured in confirmation.

You nodded into his chest. “Why are you… so attached to me?”

Eloryn paused and then exhaled a laugh, both out of surprise from being asked such a thing so soon, but also because he had been expecting that question for a long time now. “Well,” he said, “it’s a long story, or rather, it’s a lot of little stories. A string of events led me to you, and I can’t just leave you alone anymore. I… can’t explain it all just yet, but all I do know is that I like you—being with you—looking at you—it all just makes me want to stay forever.”

Your throat tightened a little and for a moment you wondered if this level of devotion would do more harm than good in the end. That creeping feeling that you felt before came back as a result.

“It’s not malicious,” he said, catching on, “maybe it’s a little cruel at best, though. Nobody else can see me, so people will think you’ve got a few screws loose from talking to the air all the time.”

You yawned and nodded, accepting that answer for now.

Again, he didn’t seem to want to hurt you.

So maybe you should just go with it.

“I’m serious,” he said, bringing you in even closer to him, as if sensing your underlying worry, “I’m not going to hurt you like others have, both human and from my realm. Not like when—“ he stopped himself, “I want what’s best for you.”

You stiffened a little at his continued assurance, perhaps feeling that there was something more to it, especially since it was so excessive. You wondered if it was more of a human thing to feel so distrustful and suspecting, but no, there was something your gut couldn’t quite digest.

Eloryn all the while, stewed next to you. He knew that he was being intense and that it was likely making you uncomfortable, but that was simply because he had truly seen everything. Every time your heart broke, every time someone tried to lie to you, every time you cried yourself to sleep.

He pulled you up slightly just as you were about to finally give into sleep. “Hey,” he murmured, “I’ll show you something special tomorrow to make you feel a little better about… all of this.”

You were jolted awake but only just.

“What do you mean?” you sleepily mumbled.

“I know I said to stay away from malicious magic beings and maybe I shouldn’t indulge you too much, but…” he started, looking at you with a look that intensified by the second, “I want to show you the good sides of magic. The kind that’ll make you feel warm rather than afraid. If you’ll let me.”

You thought about it for a second and finally nodded into his chest. Your voice had much more weight now and you were so tired, but ultimately you technically did want to see what magic—real magic, not just tricks—was like.

“Okay,” you mumbled off some more, “that sounds nice.”

Eloryn held you tight as you drifted off to sleep, watching as your body gradually relaxed and as your breathing evened out. He brought the blanket up even higher, concealing your form underneath, and then his eyes flickered up into the dark and his smile finally faded.

His gaze landed on something that couldn’t help but shift in the shadows, that also froze upon being seen.

Slowly, it backed away until it retreated entirely and Eloryn sighed deeply. He meant it with all of his heart when he promised you that he would protect you from everything.

Which meant that everyone else that crossed into this realm was now in trouble.

(But only if they got close.)

[bedrockfactory]

Tried to design a different outfit for her

[cyborgpuppyofficial]

✨️New Video!✨️

Heya everyone! Sorry I skipped out on making a video last week, but I was busy finishing this! As well as an episode that should be out soon. Today I finally made another Just Dude's video, this time with Bradley's perspective after the first video. These music videos are always so fun to make, I have no idea why I haven't made one in SIX MONTHS! XD Depending on how things go, I'll probably start their series soon. I finished scriptwriting, and picked out more songs for them. So hopefully that goes well! And I hope you enjoy this video! Next week I should have a skit or episode out next week. >//w//<

[inopinatus-ea]

4

Chapter 3

Branoc's evil is not even kept away from his sons...

Each lash of the whip made Emery grunt, but he was not going to give his father’s soldiers the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. He knew that inside his brother would be charming the innocent Princess. That Raiden knew the pain he would be enduring, all the while no doubt seducing Adelia started a fire in his breast. If there was anyone that could have seduced Siara and impregnated her, his bets would be firmly on his own brother, if not their father. It wasn’t like either of them had any moral compass that guided them. While he and Raiden did not fight outright, he knew that both his father and brother wished Raiden were the one next in line to the throne.

The crack of the whip breaking the silence of the horse barn seemed like it would never end. Each one another weight upon his resolve to not crumble. This wasn’t the first time that he’d been chained in the open doorway of the back doors of the barn, it would most likely not be the last, if his father had his way. Each time he lasted a little longer, the whippings a little brutal, the hatred in his heart for his father and brother a little stronger, and the determination to rise above and destroy his family a lot firmer. If his father did not cancel the engagement to Adelia, the rose amongst the weeds of the royalty inside might just be the key he needed to destroy all around him.

No matter how much he tried, Emery wasn’t able to hold out forever, though. He was able to keep from begging or crying out. Grunts were all the soldiers got before he passed out, his body limply hanging from the chains that led to the manacles encircling his wrists. For that, the soldiers continued to rain down blows on him even after he had fallen into unconsciousness. It was not as if he could tell the King about it. They often took out their hatred for Branoc on his sons, most people did.

[sketchynotes]

Where logic dissolves and all meaning is lost... I dare you to step into those strange new worlds.

[chen-nn]

Chapter 6: What time took from me: Temporal Cipher

Content Warning for Chapter 6 This chapter contains depictions of psychological distress, hallucinations, paranoia, mentions of therapy, and unsettling imagery (including gore-like descriptions, though not physical). Reader discretion is advised, especially for those sensitive to topics related to mental health struggles and dissociation. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

there's fluff despite everything, dw, you're not just a reader! there's aftercare.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another day. Another twisted activity waiting for us.

We were all gathered in a cramped, windowless room today — air thick with tension and the faint metallic tang of stress-sweat. Proctors paced back and forth, handing out assignments, their shoes tapping like countdown clocks against the tile.

Every student had their own task: someone bent metal into intricate symbols; another whispered to a bowl of water until their reflection screamed back; one kid calculated endless numbers, their fingers twitching like flesh calculators.

And me? I got the box.

It sat at the center of the room, black and heart beating, almost alive. When the proctor called my name, my gut twisted painfully — the same way it did when I first learned my mother died. A slow-blooming nausea that whispered, This will change you.

I obeyed anyway. Because what else could I do?

The moment my fingertips brushed the box, everything around me ruptured.

The walls melted, my classmates vanished, and suddenly I was standing on a bridge suspended over nothing. The sky churned with black oil clouds, and the only sound was my own pulse, loud and thunderous, rattling my skull from the inside out.

The first puzzle piece was easy — a small section of the box slid away under my touch, clicking into place like a child's toy. Too easy.

The second piece? It bit into my skin. Razor-sharp edges slid under my nails, prying them up like peeling fruit skin. Blood welled fast and slick, dripping down my wrists — but I couldn't stop. My fingers moved like puppets under some crueler hand, and the more I solved, the more reality warped around me.

I saw my mother's coffin. Even though in reality, I never had the chance to give my mother a proper burial.

It was standing upright beside me — nailed shut, but not enough to stop her hand from slipping through the crack. Bone-thin fingers, nails ripped clean off, reaching for me.

Behind me, Clara stood with her throat slit wide open — petals growing from the wound like some macabre garden, blooming faster every time I blinked.

Worst of all, in the mirrored shards scattered on the ground, I saw myself. Or versions of me. 

One had no eyes, just empty sockets filled with writhing, ink-black worms. 

One had my lips stitched shut with golden wire, my hands folded politely like a corpse. 

One stood with her back bent at a grotesque angle, head hanging loose by a thread of skin.

I should have screamed. I should have stopped. I didn't.

Because the box wouldn't let me.

--------------------------------------------------------------

With every new piece, the puzzle took more from me.

My left eye burst — or at least, it felt like it. A blinding flash of pain seared through my skull, and something thicker than blood leaked down my cheek. I wiped at it, trembling, and my hand came away soaked in black ink, dripping like melted shadow.

My fingers began to crack and splinter, bone peeking through skin. Every time a piece slid into place, my own flesh unraveled — as if solving the puzzle meant dismantling myself.

But I couldn't stop.

Time twisted in knots around me. The bridge collapsed and rebuilt itself beneath my feet, forcing me to step forward, backward, sideways — every wrong step dropped me into another memory.

I fell into my childhood bedroom, staring at my mother's empty bed.

I fell into the schoolyard, watching Clara wave before a flower pierced her hand.

I fell into my own grave, dirt filling my mouth until I couldn't scream.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere, some tiny rational part of my mind knew the truth.

This wasn't real. None of it. This was the test — a psychic simulation planted directly into my skull by the proctors. My body was still standing in that tiny room, trembling, hands clutching the real box.

But the rest of me? I was dying. Over and over and over.

This was how they forced my powers to awaken. Not through training — through terror. Through stress so violent my time magic would activate by instinct.

They were ripping me open, not to teach me, but to see if I could survive it.

When the final piece slid into place, I hit the ground hard. My knees split open against jagged stone, and for a moment I could taste my own blood, bright and sharp like a warning bell.

The bridge shattered beneath me, sending me into a free-fall through my own memories, my own past mistakes. I relived my mother's death in reverse, watching her rise from the grave, heal from her sickness, smile at me once more—

And then I woke up.

Back in the room. Hands trembling over the very normal, very wooden puzzle box. The proctor nodded once. "Good work." My gaze fell to the woman by his side. It was Ms. Renée

She didn't ask questions. Didn't tell me it was all fake, because she knew it didn't matter. My mind couldn't tell the difference. My body still remembered the agony, the trauma. The phantom pain lingered, too deep to scrub out.

She knelt beside me, hands warm on my frozen skin. "Hagarin, You're okay."

I couldn't even answer. My throat felt stitched shut.

She wiped my face gently — her sleeve coming away soaked with cold sweat and tears. No blood. No ink. Just a terrified kid they pushed too far.

The walk home is as though paranoia grips through my skin, it causes me to shiver to no end, no relief, no warmth.

Ms. Renée walked me home, her arm never leaving my shoulders. Every step felt like it existed in three different timelines — one where I fell, one where I ran, one where I stood still until time ate me alive.

When we reached my door, I froze.

It wasn't my house. It was my mother's funeral home, twisted into the shape of my front door. Her coffin was waiting inside — not real, but my brain didn't care.

I collapsed to my knees, trembling so violently I thought my bones would rattle apart.

Ms. Renee held me, whispering, "You're here. You're real." I didn't believe her.

I still don't.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at my hands.

The injuries were gone. My fingers were whole. My eye was intact. My skin was clean.

But when I clenched my fists, the air shimmered, rippling faintly like time didn't fully trust me anymore.

Every time I blinked, I saw the stitched-mouth version of me sitting at the foot of my bed, watching, waiting for me to break again.

Time didn't just test me today. It claimed me.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning light gently seeped through the veil of my curtains, painting fragile gold across the room and...

Sleep didn't come.

When I closed my eyes, I fell into the bridge again. Into the coffin. Into my own corpse.

I woke up gasping, fingers clawing at my throat, convinced it was still sewn shut. I vomited once — black sludge that vanished the moment I blinked, leaving me doubting if it ever happened.

Time magic is supposed to be beautiful. But mine feels like a curse — a parasite gnawing at my spine, whispering, You don't deserve control. We do.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning—another morning. I saw my reflection.

My face was fine. But my shadow moved slower than me, lagging by just a fraction of a second — like time itself didn't fully trust me anymore.

At breakfast, my cup cracked when I picked it up — age speeding up around my fingertips until the glass simply couldn't hold itself together.

I was unraveling. And no one could see it but me. 

They wanted me to learn control. 

What I learned instead is that time has teeth — and every second you touch will bite back.

I'm stronger now. But I'm also haunted.

Because every time I close my eyes, I still see that stitched-mouth girl — still sitting at the foot of my bed, still waiting for me to break her free.

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The past five days unraveled like a slow, cruel unraveling of thread — paranoia soaked into every corner of my mind until it left me disheveled, barely standing today. My fingers now brush against the fragile edges of reality, where I could finally distinguish what was real and what was only a phantom born from my fear.

Guilt curled itself around my throat like a noose, tightening with every breath I took. I never gave Hanari the explanation she deserved — I simply pushed her towards Ms. Renée, too ashamed, too fractured to speak for myself.

The school excused me for a month, a mercy disguised as punishment. They said I needed time to recover, as if time alone could soothe wounds carved into my mind. Even now, I'm not sure if healing is something I can reach.

A therapist was assigned to untangle my chaos, but how do you calm nerves that still vibrate with phantom pain? How do you silence a storm that's made a home inside your head?

The day I finally told Hanari the truth, the weight of my own words crushed me. I cried. I broke. I admitted I was not okay — and somehow, saying it out loud made it all feel so much heavier.

When the tears finally fell, Hanari pulled me into her arms — no words, no questions, just the quiet strength of her embrace. It was her way of reminding me that I was still here, that I was alive, even if my mind had long wandered into the graveyard of my fears. Her warmth bled into my skin, thawing the frost left by endless nights of paranoia. And in her arms, I could finally...

Breathe.

And for the first time in days, I drifted — not into nightmares, not into fractured time loops or restless visions, but into something tender and whole.

I slept in peace.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days slip through my fingers, and still, my feet refuse to touch the school grounds. I've let procrastination drape over me like a second skin, curling into my blankets as if they could protect me from everything I'm not ready to face. I feel better now, at least my body does — but my spirit won't rise.

Not yet.

There's a whisper in my mind, one that tells me to step forward, to walk into the unknown, because life rarely waits for those who hesitate. But I'm too tired, and for once, I want to be selfish enough to stay still — to let my bones sink into rest without guilt gnawing at me.

So my world shrinks to something soft and familiar: cooking for my sisters, sweeping the floors, folding laundry, turning ordinary moments into quiet lanterns that light my way back to myself. I even let myself imagine a life of simple domesticity.

But no — a housewife I could never be. Not in this life, not in this body.

I was tracing meaningless lines into my sketchbook when the silence broke. A knock — sharp, loud, persistent — rattled the door. A knock so familiar, I already knew whose hand it belonged to.

I wasn’t wearing my mask, so for a brief moment, I caught a small glimpse of the future. It was them — Ezra, Clarence, and Clara. Oddly enough, my mind felt calm, as if the usual storm had finally settled. Maybe it was because I was relaxed, and for once, my powers weren’t overwhelming me.

Perhaps the only real weapon against my own abilities was something as simple as staying calm. Maybe that was the key all along.

I walked toward the front door, and just as my vision predicted, there stood Ezra.

"Oh, my dove! I missed you!" Before I could even process the moment, Ezra swept me off my feet — quite literally — pulling me into a hug so sudden it forced a yelp out of me. Strangely enough, my little glimpse into the future never warned me about that.

The second he set me down, Clara stepped forward, pulling me into her own embrace. There was a warmth in it that made my heart ache in the best way. In that moment, surrounded by people who cared, I felt alive.

"I’m so glad you’re okay," Clara said softly, her voice trembling as unshed tears gathered in her eyes.

"Hey, don’t cry. I’m here — I’m okay now. Sane as ever," I reassured her, though my smile was just a little wobbly.

"Ooh, nice house." Ezra’s eyes darted around, already scanning every corner like a curious child in a new playground.

I let out a quiet groan, fully expecting him to start touching everything he could get his hands on.

"I’m really glad you’re okay now, Hagarin," Clarence said, his voice softer than usual. "When we saw you leaving school with Ms. Renée, you looked... not great."

I nodded, the memory making my shoulders tense involuntarily. "It was hell," I admitted. No sugarcoating, just the raw truth.

I led them into the living room, only to find Ezra already making himself at home, flipping through the movie collection like he owned the place.

"Have a seat, guys. I own the place anyway," Ezra joked, sprawling dramatically across the couch like a king claiming his throne.

Without a second thought, I grabbed a cushion and threw it straight at his face. Clara and Clarence burst into soft laughter as they settled into the room, filling the space with a comforting sense of normalcy I hadn’t felt in a while.

And it was nice — really nice.

I didn’t feel alone.

I had them, too.

They might each carry their own ghosts, their own cracks and sharp edges, but knowing we all had our struggles somehow made it easier to breathe. I wasn’t drifting aimlessly in isolation anymore. I had my people—chaotic, flawed, and human—right beside me.

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2,535 words

next chapter

[notice-how]

What am I most scared of?

Her smile 

The way her cheeks shine every time she smiles 

Those cheeks make me happy 

They make me anxious 

Why anxious? Idk that maybe one day will come when she doesn't like me anymore? Idk that I might do something to catalyze the very thing I'm most afraid of? .

I asked her “what are u most afraid of?”

She replies - “darkness” 

She’s afraid of darkness 

I find her interesting 

I'm obsessed 

I tell her that from time to time 

But the catch is ppl can be blind sometimes 

This is a very generalized statement but i think if I keep showing how much I'm obsessed 

A day might come when she might not need me anymore 

She might not feel the same obsession 

She might have a reason to not feel the same 

My feelings? They’re intense 

Why do I write this? 

I heard that it's a good way to dissolve anxiety 

Remember how she said that she’s most afraid of darkness? 

Well let me say this “I am too, I am scared of the dark” but my dark is a bit different, dark as per norms is the nothing, no control, no stimulus ,just….nothing.

Heck even Schrödinger said that if there’s no observer present to observe an entity, that entity doesn't even EXIST? as absurd as this sounds but this is true 

At least on a quantum level.

Let's jump back to what type of dark I am scared of, darkness for me is every second spent without :

talking to her 

Looking at her 

Listen all her yapping 

Getting lost in those eyes of her 

Observing every little detail about her 

Everytime i get to play with her hair 

This is light for me 

This is vision to my eyes 

Waves to my ears 

Pressure to my skin 

Ions to my olfactory receptors 

Taste to my tongue

So if darkness is absence of external stimulus to our senses then yes every second i spend without her is darkness for me.

This is what I'm most scared of .

This is fear and this is my anxiety.

[cb-writes-stuff]

Project Opal Masterpost

It finally exists! This will be updated frequently, whenever I post a new thing that should go on here. If something is red, then that means it’s coming soon.

What is Project Opal about?

Snippets

1: Opening scene

Loredumps and Worldbuilding

On Kem lon-Dalan; architecture in the Living District (it’s below the cut)

What do people eat in Kem lon-Dalan?

What landmarks are in Kem lon-Dalan?

How do I come up with words for Vandeth?

Keitalen, Geitalen; How Time is Measured in the Vandeth Desert

How are the Kemen governed? And what are the laws like?

What are the Gilded Palm and Enveil’s Company?

Map of Kem lon-Dalan

Religion in Project Opal, Part 1

Religion in Project Opal, Part 2

Religion in Project Opal, Part 3

Vandeth words for family members

Facts about Veuketzlind

Other Fun Things

Character sketches

Nauth character bio

Ven character bio

Lynn character bio

Mela character bio

Elvi character bio

Elial character bio

William character bio

Gloria character bio

Sils character bio

(Not related to Project Opal) Khione and Lila loredump

What are my inspirations for Project Opal?

What do the characters think of their bosses?

Progress Updates

Too many to list here. They have tiny bits of stuff I wrote, though, so maybe you wanted to go through them. You can find (hopefully) most of them here.

[agonyofdespair]

me: i want to write something a little spooky also me: summons a horny, blood-drenched vampire cathedral of despair and lust

Queer vampire novel WIP. It’s going well.

[bronytshirt]

teehee

[some-kindof-cryptid]

The Originals 🌌

Okay, I'm getting over it and posting them imperfect and unfinished.

Here are my 25 original book ideas ✨ Some don't have titles, most of them have their plots. They're in chronological order for the multiverse.

This list doesn't include sequels, prequels, or spin offs. I'll soon add summaries, new pages, and much more. Enjoy and lmk what you think ✨

Year - Title - Main Character

- Blurb Summary

- Link to separate page going more in depth 🔜

Concepts to know throughout ⏩🔜

H.W.A Ω • The 4 Apocalypses 🌐 • Tidatis 🔆

🥀1665 - ((plague/fae WIP)) - Tabitha “Tabby” Wolf nee. Calimeris

With the black plague looming, an outcasted woman must face everything she's ever feared to be true to save her family and town.

🕸️1732 - ((HWAorigin WIP)) - We��Tona “Enola” Del Tradot

A wealthy heir and immortal girl have been hunted by the same monsters their whole lives, a chance meeting leads them on the path to create the Hidden World Agency.

🔏1789 - Of Sound Mind - Valencia Elizabeth Rene Rubina

Misery and filth and disease run rampant at Mt. Deirdre Insane asylum. Ten unknowingly connected people are wrongfully imprisoned together and vow to help everyone escape; maybe even get revenge for them as well.

🪞1818 - Dark Water - Coyolxuahqui “Rosalía” Bellini

After secluding herself for decades, is it new love or new blood that finally draws her out?

🛰️1876 - Other Side of the Sun - Delfina Claudia Morales

A group of people have to find their ways back to their own version of earth after they all wake up on an alien ship.

⚜️1916 - Worth Overdoing - Gwendolyn Heaven Carter

Witches had always been able to specialize in necromancy, but no one had done it “correctly” before.

🍯1927 - Honeysuckle - Honey Dorothy Wolfe

A young, orphaned heiress and her two boyfriends are haunted by her family's past.

🍃1935 - Pull Without Direction - Adonia Sani

Learn all the secrets of the universe and more! All you have to do is die.

🎥1956 - Unidentifiable - Marla Rosalía Cardona Murilla

An FBI forensic scientist decides to take several “cold” cases of missing girls into her own hands.

🎠1964 - Far From Insanity - Wendy Johanna Irving

Shortly after moving to a new town, a seemingly normal girl's past lives catch up to her.

👁️1975 - Three Streams - Seonyul “Ellora” Choi

Something about this strange, unknown town pulls her in like a homing beacon.

🎭1987 - Porcelain - Cherry Viviane Clarke

Past trauma, gnawing guilt, and trying to harness an emotion based ability with a personality disorder.

🖱️1992 - Chandler Haim Doesn't Exist - Chandler Haim “Lara Winters”

The only survivor of a massacre tries to continue her life as best she can, but even witness protection can't save her from high school.

🗻1999 - Mother, Mother - Do Narumi

Raised in solitude, a special agent must navigate her new life and new relationships with her team in the outside world.

🪰2007 - Consequence - Winai Apinya

When an unknown entity is found in a Las Vegas alley surrounded by viscera, a team of special agents have to race against more than time to identify it.

🌀2010 - Winter in August - Amari Cecily Dawning

Seven different versions of earth, back and forth over and over. Powers she didn't know she had, activated by a near death experience. Do the people she meets there serve a purpose or is all of this strife inconsequential?

🫀2014 - Hereafter - Madirakshi “Marianna” Dhillon

An affair with her pastor leads to her kidnapping, taking her somewhere she never could've dreamed. She'll have to find her way back home completely blind, unless she can find anyone to help her.

🌖2019 - Deadly - Sephornia Georgia Benally

Besties graduate together. Besties move together. And besties seduce the seven deadly sins to honor your grandma's centuries old ward together.

✳️2022 - ((APOC1/Thai idol WIP)) - Samorn Sakdan

A rising, multi talented starlet is recruited to try and stop an imminent apocalypse.

🦋 2029 - Paroxysm - September Nguy

Nine years ago, several events culminated into the planet being destroyed, major cities all but flattened , and a majority of life wiped out. Groups of survivors now try to survive their broken world and each other.

🦷2057 - Killjoy - Danica Bianca

A new society has risen after an apocalypse, nuclear winter is setting in, but people will always pay for their enemies’ heads.

👽2101 - Human - Correlia Landry

An alien humanologist recounts centuries of stories from her journal to an FBI agent.

🏮2131 - Ignis Noctis - Angeles Baker

Water has taken over the earth, leaving only the tops of mountains visible. Humanity created tethered, but floating islands, clinging to the last shreds of society.

☀️2346 - Descendants of Us: Vision of Gold ((DOU-VOG)) - Rosewell, Princess of Saras

After the flood water fell, new kingdoms rose. The king of Saras has decided to marry off his only daughter.

This 🔻 is the one book I have that takes place on a different planet.

✴️💫Anger of Yesterday - Iari Chinihara

On the planet of Tidatis, women similar to witches are hunted as trophies for their beauty and fertility. One must travel the globe to escape a heartless, yet extremely powerful crown Prince.

[busybeewriting]

The Story Keepers: Chapter One.

Summary: Feruna Wynyra is a bard attending Strummlot's College with her favorite little bard buddy, Aerial Windarin. When they find a book that allows them to travel to the Fairytale Realm- what could possibly go wrong?

Fern.

It’s another day. That’s all. Just the same as the last four years had gone. Wake up, make breakfast, go to class, do homework and then rinse- repeat.

Not that was much different from home. The main difference was the company. No siblings running around, no Riddle to keep you up to date on homework. No Ace and Deuce snickering and fucking with said Riddle. It was...less lively here. That I was certain of.

Shaking my head, I refocus. No amount of reminiscing will be worth it if I can’t find her. With a heavy sigh, I drop my bag at the usual table. Carefully unstrap Banny from my back and set her down against the side of the table before I take my seat. Kicking my feet up and sighing again. Finally. Some time to relax. I hold my head up and close my eyes. Knowing just the right way to angle my face so that the sun hits me and lets the warmth spread across my face.

Nothing could get better than this...except maybe some food. Food would be the cherry on top of this relaxation sundae. “Aerial?” I call, not bothering to move. I knew he was never that far from my side. “What do we do for lunch?”

Aerial Windarin, was my best friend. We meet our first year in Strumlotts- the prestigious Bard school in all of Tylwyth- and were quickly assigned as buddies. They’d often pair a more skilled bard with a bard in training to show them the ropes. We rarely left each others sides after that. He was the first real friend I had here, and I think I might have been his first real friend period. But none of that really mattered. Not when we were so different. I, well I am the way I am. There’s no fixing that. But Aerial? He was a soft, caring, shy individual and the kindest person I’d ever known.

I can hear him shuffle in his seat. Almost picturing the way he fiddles with the ends of his braids. One of his nervous stims he often did. Slowly, peaking an eye open to see him. Watching as his mouth slowly opens and closes before the words seem to finally make their way out. “We-well...um, I think we should...probably work on the assignment Mister Treble gave us?” He says quietly, still avoiding looking at me directly. “I-it’s due tomorrow and we don’t even have a verse...or a melody…”

Fuck. I forgot about that. But I can’t let him know that. I’m supposed to the mentor here. “Ah!” I say as I wave my hand dismissively. Like Aerial didn’t just remind me that was due and I had this plan all along. “That’s just cause we’re gonna wing it!”

Sitting back up straighter I grunt, smacking my thighs lightly as I stand. “Well, c’mon lets go get food.”

Aerial stands quickly, almost tripping over his feet trying to match pace with me. “Ah-Fern!” He protests meekly. “We can’t just-” Aerial lets out an exasperated sigh. “Y-You know how bad I am at lying! I’ll-- I’ll mess it up!” His voice has a slight tremble in it, as his eyes dart around the library to see if anyone had just heard him. Like they weren’t also a bunch of college students just trying to pass.

He acted so much like my sister, Fauna. The two were one and the same, anxious little messes with bleeding hearts and waterworks at their disposal.

In a strange way, it was moments like this that made me miss her. Looking back over my shoulder, the red hair gets me. For a moment it slips- “Relax Fau-” And then I see those eyes. Teal. Fauna’s aren’t teal.

And I remember that I’m alone.

My sister isn’t here. My family isn’t here. And all I have in this realm is Aerial. Swallowing down the lump that formed in my throat as I came to that realization, I quickly correct myself.

“Aerial.” I nod. “Relax Aerial.”

After a pause, and taking a deep breath I continue. “It’s not lying. It’s called improv and it’s an important Bard skill to have!”

As we pass the archives, my foot steps falter. I can feel my ears twitch at the strange feeling in my chest. Almost like a thread was wrapped around my heart and tugging me closer. Turning to look only makes the tug stronger. As if acknowledging it made it more confident that this was what it wanted.

I quickly put a hand on Aerial’s shoulder to steer him into the same direction. “This way, c’mon.”

“But I- wait did you just..?” I can hear Aerial but the tugging persists. So whatever he was saying would have to wait. I made it four years without telling him anything. I could last a few more minutes.

Putting a hand over his mouth I shake my head. “Shshsh...look.” I whisper, pointing toward the archives. “We’ve gotta go in there.”

“Mmf-!” Aerial pushes my hand away. And I can tell he’s an only child by the lack of spit on my hand. He shakes his head. “No! Fern, we’re already in enough trouble for always winging our assignments! Going into the archives will be much worse!”

I can’t help the eye roll. As much as I loved Aerial, he did not always have a good sense of adventure. Or as he liked to put it, risk taking. “Do what you want then. But I’m going in.”

That ladies and gentlemen is years of being the eldest sister shining through. More often than not, you can trick them into joining you by giving them a choice.

Taking quick steps forward, following the tug at my heart. I motion for him to follow, slipping into the shadows.

“Fern-!” I can hear Aerial protest. But his footsteps follow closely behind mine. I grab him again, putting a hand over his mouth as I press a finger to my lips. Slowly leading him in further and further.

For the first time in almost four years. It feels like I could finally have hope again. Alice, here I come!

It’s only a few more steps until I see it. On a dark oak podium, under a spotlight and enclosed in glass sits a story book. But not just any story book; Leabhar Scéalta. A book that allows you to step into the Fairytale Realm, (Not to be confused with the Fae Realm- They really don’t like when you do that.)

As I started to reach out, a cold hand wraps around my wrist pulling me back. Before I can get a good look at him, he speaks. “I don’t believe that Lucian told me anyone was supposed to be back here.”

Ripping my arm away, glaring at the voice I can get a good look at him now. Pale, almost too pale. Pointed elf ears, purple shaggy hair, olive green eyes- though paler than normal and round glasses sitting on his nose. He was shorter too, young. But not out of place in a college for his age. As I squint at him I huff out, “Oi. Don’t touch me.” I snap at him, trying to place where I’ve seen him before.

It then dawns onto me, that I should be nice to this twink or he wouldn’t let me go home. And god there was nothing more I wanted to do than go home. I clear my throat and give him my best- cordial smile. “We need to read a book for class. And that-” I say as I point back to the book. “Is one. So if you don’t mind?” I grin before taking another step toward it.

The annoyance steps in front of me. Frowning as he crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I believe it is my job to mind. This part of the library is not open to students. As they tell you in orientation.”

I want to smack those glass right off his stupid little face. If only he knew what was at stake here! I can’t exactly say ‘Hey, hi, so sorry but I’m actually princess of the realm inside that book! So I will be going back home. Thanks so much okay bye!’ I’d get locked in the looney bin.

“Um --- we’re really sorry, we’ll leave-” Aerial squeaks out, taking my arm and gently trying to pull me out. And for a second, just a second, I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do.

Taking a deep breath, rolling my shoulders and glaring at the book keep. As if I had become larger than life, towering over him. (It’s all really about your demeanor. Thats what Dr. Daunting taught me.) I keep my voice low to add to the affect. “I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with. So turn around, and pretend you never saw us. Okay?”

“F-Fern! You- You can’t!” Aerial tries to protest my actions. But this was the only way to go home. The only way to find her. He didn’t understand why I had to do this!

The bookblock stumbles back as his eyes widen in terror. His mouth opening, but nothing coming out. And some part of my got a sick satisfaction from that...I’ll unpack that later.

I pat his shoulder and smile. “Atta boy.” I praise, “Now just run along and pretend you didn’t see us.”

Blindly, I reach back and take Aerial’s hand. If I was going anywhere, it have to be with him. A good buddy never lets the other one get left behind. As I reach toward the book I feel it. The tugging at my heart only getting tighter. This was it. This was right.

And then, we got sucked right in.

Hi everyone! If you made it this far- thank you! For a little bit of context this is a more long form written out version of me and my girlfriend (@maegicalgirl) starting with my character Fern! I hope you all enjoy this and I promise that it gets more exciting! But if you guys have questions about it feel free to shoot her a message over there!

[sketchynotes]

I dedicate this story to anyone who has trouble waking up.