#short story wip

[vhkingsink]

while I wait for the next bit of story to surface, I really want to share a few paragraphs I'm proud of. my friends joke about the self-inserts in my writing, but this probably a new level, even for me.

I think a lot of us aspire to a life like Barry's...

After their dinner, Mother Pearl went to her room to rest. That usually meant two or three hours Judith could fill with emails or errands. Most of the time, she took Barry for long walks through city blocks and unnamed parks. Nothing in this part of town was manicured.

The trees grew where they grew, with nothing stopping you from reaching out and touching them. Weeds grew between concrete and clustered by curbs, and you could say they were beautiful when they bloomed. There was no impulse to make a thing more or less than what it was.

Ordinary blossoms and waning decay, all in a day’s passing.

Barry was a hefty meatball of a French bulldog. He snored and farted like a regular old man, and that’s why Judith loved him. Plus, he was very hard to impress. Three things Barry liked the most were a full food and water bowl each morning, napping whenever he felt like it, and an extra treat when the mood suited him.

Judith aspired to be more like Barry.

[lilac-ravenclaw]

Happy Thursday!

So, as before, I have been working on writing my own short story about my Raven and Sebastian. If anyone is interested in beta reading it send me a message. I would love some feedback and help with grammar if at all possible. Thanks! 🌙

[kirchenaere]

Preparing to sexualize that old man by sketching fanart of a game that isn't even out yet

[bixels]

fuck it. hits you with the upa ray gun.

[automeris-io-moth]

Short #5

"Shush, you're okay," Villain soothed, a warm hand running through Hero's hair, mask long ago discarded on the floor, filthy with blood and dirt. 

Hero disagreed, grunting as a half-thought response, still navigating on the frontier of consciousness. Trying, and failing, to slap the other’s hand away. 

“They did quite a number on you, no one would believe they’re supposed to be your friends.” Villain whispered the last part, a hand reaching for Hero’s belt, taking their weapons out, and throwing them to the side. Hero’s hand could only twitch “One can only wonder what would have happened to you if I hadn’t asked for you unharmed.” 

Carefully, Villain brushed a single tear going down Hero’s cheek. They hadn’t noticed they shed it. 

“There’s no need to cry, with me you’re safe.” 

_

Masterlist

[ruporas]

feast (ID in alt)

[laddie-and-las]

Oh my god, it's my little guy! :)

His name is Laddie and he's a lil' adventurer :)

[childrenofcain-if]

I can't find anything about the ROs birthdays except their zodiac sign, Tumblr search system is shitty as usual

i don’t think i ever said anything about their birthdays tho, oops! lemme fix that:

C LACROIX: january 12

V NÆSHOLM: june 26

W OSTENDORF: february 9

D DIACONU: october 30

M WHITLOCK-SINGH: august 27

[thebarontheabyss]

The new version of The Bar on the Abyss 2.0 update is coming soon!

I've finished stocking the Library of Pseudonium with stories, tales, and entries for you to devour, and now I'm moving to overhaul some of the romance scenes in the game.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share one of those entries. See you soon in the Abyss :)

Waiting for You by Albus Gauss

"Did you see the moth, my love?

It was there when we said our goodbyes. I could see you holding back your tears. You had to be strong, I understand. But I wish you hadn’t. I was so weak, and all I wanted was to hold you, to feel your warmth one last time. I longed for your tears to flow freely, to form a river that would carry me away into the unknown, into oblivion.

As you whispered your final words, I saw it in that quiet moment.

A fragile, black-winged creature. It fluttered softly between us, hovering like a silent witness to our parting. It landed on my chest, just above my heart, and in that instant, it whispered something I couldn’t quite hear, or remember. 

The following moments are hard to hold onto—like trying to catch the wind. A blur of sensation and then… seagulls. 

I woke to the sound of the ocean.

An endless beach stretched before me, an ancient town clinging to its shoreline like something plucked from an old memory. Remember our honeymoon in Sanremo? The way the sun seemed to melt into the sea, the scent of salt and warmth in the air? It was just like that, only quieter. Still, Timeless.

The sand beneath me was warm, and the breeze carried not just salt but something else… something eternal, like time itself was holding its breath. The sea shimmered in silver hues, a glow that made it almost alive. I stood up, feeling lighter than I had in years—lighter than I had ever felt in life. The pain that had gripped me for so long was gone, but with it, the weight of myself—of being alive.

It’s strange to explain. You never realize how heavy your existence is until it’s lifted away.

I followed the shoreline, letting my feet sink into the soft sand. And then, near me, I saw it fluttering again—the moth, gently gliding on the warm waves of the sea. And it spoke to me.

So, I’m in a place called Kaitz, an ‘ethereal realm.’ Not Heaven, just… a haven. We talked for a long time, and he told me so much. My mind struggles to comprehend the details, but apparently, this is the afterlife.

I followed him into a small house on the outskirts of the town, overlooking the ocean. It was a simple, quaint place, like something we might’ve stayed in during one of our seaside holidays. The walls were cracked but alive with vines of unfamiliar flowers, their blooms glowing faintly as dusk crept in. There was a feeling of anticipation in the air—like the house had been waiting for me. The moth told me I could stay here if I wanted to. I was so confused, I really should have asked him for how long. Did he mean forever?

I wandered onto the balcony, looking out over the ocean as the sunset bathed everything in gold. The horizon shimmered in a way that I can’t quite describe—like the light was bending, swirling into itself, but never fully disappearing. For a long time, I just stood there on that balcony. This place was beautiful, yet I felt… alone.

The moth—Mavet, it whispered its name—perched beside me on the railing, its wings reflecting the dying light. It didn’t speak again, just hovering for a while until the sun was gone, and so did he.

I couldn’t sleep that night. The stillness was too loud, so I went outside into the town. 

That’s when I heard the music. There was a festival, with fireworks and sky lanterns floating in the skies above us. I’ve never seen clearer skies—whole galaxies stretching and spiraling, and I swear those sky lanterns rising above us were turning into stars as they met the heavens.

The streets were lined with people, all lost in the celebration, their laughter and voices mingling with the music that filled the air. I came here feeling lost and alone, but when I saw the happiness in their eyes and the calmness in their faces… for a brief moment, I also lost myself in that feeling. And it felt so good.

I followed the parade, blending into the river of souls and meeting a group of recently deceased souls like me. They were different from me in every way—one had skin like marble, another glowed faintly as if lit from within—but somehow, we felt acquainted with one another. There was an instant camaraderie, as if we had always known each other, as if we’d met many times before, in some other life. They told me they were from different realms. I had no idea there were other realms besides ours. And yet, here we all were, walking together under a sky that seemed to stretch forever.

We walked through the winding streets, drinking and talking like old friends. They told stories of their lives, and I told them about us. About you.

At some point during the night, as the festival flowed around me, I found myself dancing to rhythm of the celebration. And then it hit me—a wave of emotion that I couldn’t hold back. The freedom of it all. The weightlessness, the sheer absence of pain, of sickness. I cried. Tears of joy. Pure, unfiltered happiness. I hadn’t felt this alive in years, Malcolm. My new friends didn’t say a word, but their hands held mine tighter as if they understood.  

I’m so sorry for being this happy without you, my love. Please forgive me.  

By the time dawn arrived, we found ourselves back on the beach. The festival had faded, and the sky was painted in shades of violet and gold. We sat there, five of us, watching the horizon, waiting for the sun to rise fully. 

When it did, I said goodbye and walked back to the little house on the cliff. The streets were quiet now, the remnants of the festival scattered across the cobblestone roads. It felt strange to be back in that empty house. But for the first time since I passed, I felt the weight of exhaustion settling into my bones.

I fell asleep quickly, and I dreamt of you.

I was lying next to you, in our bed at home. We had just bought that house, remember? We called it our forever home. Funny, isn’t it? How man plans, and the cosmos laughs.

In my dream, I reached over and held your hand, and as I did, I saw your face. You were crying in your sleep, your cheeks soaked with tears. 

I’m glad you finally cried, Malcolm. 

When I woke, I couldn’t shake the feeling of that dream. It felt so real, like I was there with you. But I woke up to an empty bed, and I can imagine you were too. I guess this is our reality from now on. 

My new friends told me about a train that comes through once a day. It drives straight into the ocean, vanishing beneath the waves, and it takes you to other places, other realms. 

They say you can visit all sorts of worlds and find places you never imagined–other afterlives, other paradises. I’m thinking of getting on that train soon, after spending a little more time here.

I want to explore, to see what’s out there. That dream… It gave me a purpose, something to do until we find each other again. I’m going to search for a place for us. A perfect place. A home where we can be together again, after your time has come. 

I will find our forever home.

And until that day comes, Malcolm, I’ll be dreaming of you. 

Here, on the endless shores of Kaitz… or somewhere else, entirely."

[bundleofboys]

Part two (preview) of this month's Patreon exclusive 🐺🧺

$5+ members can view both parts in their entirety right now. The third act will be SPICY 🔥

Please consider supporting my work! Patreon is my only consistent source of income right now, and any little bit helps me out immensely.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sugu/reader timeloop au . is this anything

[monstatron]

PALE SKIN: TEASER

synopsis + WIP for my upcoming kaiju horror short!

A kaiju body horror short story.

Sometime in the future, experimental scientists have pursued biological advancements like no other. Dr. Orson Pierre, a kind and happy family man, had developed a new strain of cells. Though, the project falls far out of his hands, leading to a catastrophe of titanic heights. In the process, Pierre loses himself and more than he could have ever imagined.

very VERY excited to debut this short story. if you're a fan of tragedy, kaijus, and body horror, i got quite the story cooking!

[bacchanal-if]

November's Short Story: A Heart Without Herald (Rabbit)

Wordcount: 1,293

As twilight settles over the Thames, Rabbit finds themself drawn into the quiet beauty of the world—seeing in its gentle mysteries a reflection of their own heart.

To sign up for the Courtly Charmer tier and access the story, please do so here! This will be the last month to view all of the works on Patreon before I pause subscriptions in order to focus on getting Chapter 2 finished.

[tervaneula]

Guess who has yet another new WIP!!!!!! Yes it me. Anyway. Communication my beloved<3

[automeris-io-moth]

Reunion

That morning Hero felt particularly tired. 

Perhaps Villain had noticed early when greeting them at breakfast, such was the reason the servants were fetched to help them shower, help them dress and eat, fed by hand as if not humiliated enough by then, trapped by the fact they were indeed unable to lift the cutlery. 

Perhaps it had been Villain’s doing. Perhaps it had been the tea, perhaps it had been something else. 

Later, Hero was taken to the main hall of the former gubernatorial palace right in the heart of the city, where a wood and gold throne laid. Hero had once, long ago, made a joke about Villain compensating for something with such a cartoonish display of power, but then they had no energy to obnoxiously repeat it, as they did every time they entered the place. Mockery was one of the few things Hero had left after all. 

Yet, that day they could barely keep their head upright, a foggy sense of nausea crepting up their throat, a heavy weight pushing them down from the top of their head kept them glued to Villain that morning, head laying on the other's shoulder as Hero laid across their lap, their enemy's hands stroked up and down their arms and back, warming them from the coldness of the room. 

"Let them in," Villain's voice boomed across the hall, the echo remaining a second longer. 

The old wooden doors creaked open, uneven steps entering the room, as if being rushed, and Hero hid their head from the sharp noise. 

"What do you think I should do, love?” Villain asked the Hero this time, pressing their lips against their hair  “Four intruders wandering around, trying to enter our home to steal god knows what.” 

And Hero tried, tried to twist their head to look at the people standing before them, distinguishing them on their knees, half aware of the number mentioned, half aware of their factions, of what they wore. 

Half aware that they knew them. 

“I told you, Leader,” one said, a whisper too sharp to fulfil its purpose of being discreet “they sold us out.” 

“Shut up, Teammate, what about that?” The called answered, face straightening and, for a moment, Hero could swear they made eye contact “What are you looking to prove with this display, Villain?” 

Villain huffed a laugh, turning Hero’s head back to them  “Come on Leader, do you really think I put this show just for you?” 

They had, Hero thought, Villain usually preferred if they weren’t seen. Just for their eyes, they had once said, when they were, as that day, too out of their mind to talk back. 

“What did you do to them?” 

“I would never hurt them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” they answered, hands pulling them ever so close to their chest, curling if only lightly to embrace them “I’m not like you.” 

“We never…” 

“Yes you have,” they answered “I’ve seen every scar in their body, and I’m responsible for only one. Don’t lie to my face please.” 

“They knew what they were doing! It was for the greater good,” Teammate answered this time, sweat dripping from their forehead to the blood, taking the dirt with it. 

“Such a funny concept is the greater good. I can assure you it holds no meaning to me, there is nothing greater than keeping what's mine close and unblemished, and you have scarred it, sadly.”

With a hand on their hip, and the other on their neck, Villain twisted Hero’s head slightly to the right, where their team knelt, eyes glazed, barely open enough to discern their shadows, they could see one turn away from their unintentional stare. 

“So what would a fitting punishment be,” they asked in the air, looking down at Hero “I accept suggestions, my light.”

_

Masterlist

[howlsnteeth]

🌠

(making-of gif under cut)