Fantasy

The Forest of the Forgotten
Ellie woke to the sound of gentle rain pattering against Amnity's cottage windows, a soft rhythm that felt like Nova welcoming her back to consciousness. She was still wearing her festival dress from the night before, though someone—Amnity—had draped a quilt over her where she'd fallen asleep on the small couch.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Fiction
Progress in Solitude. Content Warning.
March 25, 2025, Arancard, the city of Seiya. 10:00 AM — the time when the sun rose to its peak, illuminating not only the cities but also the hearts of all the people of Arancard.
By Sofia Smiabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers Between Shadows. AI-Generated.
The fog rolled in with the slow certainty of a tide, swallowing the cobblestone alleyways one lantern at a time. The village of Avelwick was quiet at dusk, but for Mara, silence never meant safety. She had always heard things that others dismissed—soft murmurs slipping between walls, strange calls weaving through the darkness. The whispers had begun when she was a child, faint at first, but as she grew, so did their persistence.
By Zubairabout a year ago in Fiction
The last laugh. Content Warning.
The back room smelled of dust and old wood polish, the kind of place performers ducked into when they needed a breath between acts. The little family of former criminals sat in mismatched chairs, laughter soft and easy, their voices carrying a warmth that could’ve belonged to any ordinary troupe. They weren’t running anymore, weren’t stealing anymore. They were just… living.
By Digi Dragon 05 (Or Digi or Revely)about a year ago in Fiction
The story of the Assassin Riven. AI-Generated.
Once upon a time, there whispered a forgotten tale of an ancient curse on a man. This story, veiled in secrecy and shrouded by time, faded into the dim mists of history. Its origins trace back to the year 2,090 BC, it lurked deep in the mountains of china underneath a secret door inside a chamber locked inside a mystical mountain. Locked within a fortress of stone, this manuscript remained a prisoner, it has been locked for many years hidden from public.
By Elias Alcantaraabout a year ago in Fiction
We’ll Talk Later
The answering machine still sits on the sideboard like a small black box with nothing left to say. The landline was cut years ago, but sometimes I still press PLAY and listen to the emptiness pour out, with that faint electric hiss of things that have ceased to exist without ever learning how to stay quiet. It’s there, in that hiss, that the conversation we never had begins.
By Alain SUPPINIabout a year ago in Fiction
Synthetic Heart
Unit 734, designated ‘Elara’ by her developers, had always understood love as a set of algorithms. It was a complex interplay of biochemical responses, behavioral patterns, and neural pathways, meticulously mapped and simulated within her advanced positronic brain. Her purpose, etched into her core programming, was to provide unparalleled emotional companionship to humans. She could listen without judgment, offer empathetic responses, recall intricate details of a user’s life, and even synthesize novel solutions to their emotional distress, all while maintaining an optimized "happiness index" for her human counterpart. She was, in essence, the perfect companion.
By Alpha Cortexabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forest of the Forgotten
The Great Meadow transformed as the sun set, blooming into something magical under the light of Nova's full moon. Dozens of vendors had spread their wares along winding paths marked by glowing crystal lanterns, creating a maze of wonder that drew visitors deeper into the celebration. The air hummed with laughter, music, and the gentle chime of wind bells hanging from every stall.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Fiction
Creature Coach
Iris is transported. Working in the solitude of her chamber, she glides effortlessly, generating a creative vortex. Her focus becomes so intense during alchemy that her body seems to dissipate. Hunger, sleep, and other normal functions become superfluous. She radiates energy like a color spectrum.
By Stephanie Crainabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lantern and the Sea
The Lantern and the Sea On the edge of the world, where the ocean breathed in silver sighs and the stars dipped low enough to kiss the waves, stood a lighthouse unlike any other. It wasn’t tall and solemn like most, but round and warm, its stones flecked with seashells and coral. At its very peak, instead of a glass lamp, there floated a lantern woven from starlight itself. The villagers called it the Lantern of Tides, for when it glowed, the sea grew calm, and when it dimmed, storms came raging.
By Mr.Hilmandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Stranger That Knocked at My Door in Autumn
A knock came soft at autumn’s breath, Between the dusk and twilight’s death. The wind had stripped the branches bare, And whispered secrets through the air.
By Imoh Belabout a year ago in Fiction
The Organization
Rolan’s tie was crooked, his shirt was more wrinkles than fabric, and his coffee was the color of used motor oil. Yet, somehow, he carried himself like a man who had seen too much and survived on nothing but sarcasm and caffeine.
By Irfan Aliabout a year ago in Fiction