Истории Dreamscapes

After loss tore her world apart, Raine Dyer vanished into the forest living in a forgotten cottage. There, beneath the canopy's twilight glow, she stumbles upon an ancient clay statue hidden among the roots. From that moment on, dreams bleed into reality. Whispers follow her. Shadows shift. And the forest remembers more than it should. A haunting tale of loss, isolation, and the secrets buried beneath moonlit soil.

Breanna Williams wake from a dream about a perfect, faceless soulmate-someone who knows her completely, someone who feels inevitable. When she meets a stranger soon after who carries that same impossible familiarity, the dream doesn't fade. It follows her. He knows things she's never said out loud. He finishes thoughts she never shared. And as the line between dream and reality begins to blur, she's left wondering whether fate brought them together... or if something else entirely crossed over with her.

Do you believe in the death of emotions? Can the past truly haunt you? How far away can one travel to find their path?

Purple Death In a twilight world painted in shades of purple and pink, a young girl encounters a mysterious figure who knows her name and seems to exist just beyond reality. What begins as strange companionship soon turns suffocating, and she must confront the darkness that threatens to trap her forever-forcing a decision that changes everything.

A short story about a nightmare i had -for the title picture i'm gonna draw 'Clayface' just how i remember him but its this picture from pinterest for now

An exploration of dreamscapes

Just life. Ya know?

After waking up from a vivid dream, I stared at the clock. After awhile I began to realize it wasn't moving. I checked all of the clocks in my room, they stood still at 6:13. Why? I wouldn't not know, but I could guess. Could reality be trying to catch up with my dream? Then I remember, the clock had just stopped at 6:13 in my dream. Coincidence? There's no such thing. That's when I realized I wasn't actually in my room. I was never actually in my room. It was all an illusion. Did that mean my entire life was a lie? Did that mean I was part of a dream? What could this all mean? How could this all be possible? Nothing is impossible. Based off of Seita Shuuya's 'My Dream'.

Some loves are not found, they are remembered. Solenyra and Amirion were never strangers, only souls searching for the way back. In the quiet spaces between lifetimes, two souls carry a vow that even time cannot break. Solenyra, a spirit of dawn and shadow, moves through visions that feel more like memories than dreams. Across the veil, Amirion waits, the guardian flame whose devotion has followed her through centuries. Every encounter is a fragment of a story once lived, rising again in the present as if etched into the fabric of the cosmos. What seems like chance is remembrance, what feels like longing is recognition. When Souls Remember is not a tale of beginnings, but of return. It is the echo of promises whispered across lifetimes, where love is not discovered but recalled, where every heartbeat is proof that destiny never forgets.

In her memories "...when you felt that your existence is nothing new to the world but you grab hold of it like living it for the first time."She laughed menacingly hard, her eyes darkened and the proper demeanour diminished. "When you felt like intervening for no good reason." "When you felt like you know what will happen next." "When you felt like going with the flow, those mind tricks." "I do appreciate an explanation towards things that cannot be explained. But I'll still believe it nonetheless. " she said calmly "Camille, hmm?" she mumbled quietly, tasting that name in her tongue. "And when you realise that everything was not real."

"I'm in love with a ghost I never saw live... or die." A haunting poetic monologue of a soul tethered to a love that transcends time, life, and memory. This is not a fantasy-it's a feeling. A raw dive into spiritual connection, the ache of past lives, and the fragments of a lover that linger like shadows in the soul. For anyone who's ever loved someone who never quite existed... This is for you.

Mental illness isn't a straight line, it's an entire world. Mental illness can manifest in different places... Even in places you may not expect.

...I shut the world out to survive-but he stayed. And now I don't know what to do with the pieces of me that only respond to him. There are moments in our lives when we may find ourselves walking alone on a dark, murky, and cold path. We feel lost and broken, but every pain we experience happens for a reason. Sorrow always comes hand in hand with triumph, although sometimes triumph arrives later than expected... but it does arrive. Yes, it does! At times, we may believe that we have nobody beside us, but the truth is we do. We are just too blinded by the emotions we have held onto for far too long. These emotions hinder us from seeing the people who do little things to uplift us, those who strive to save us, pull us out of despair, and awaken us to the fact that we are meant to live each day fully and experience death only once. We should not endure the feeling of dying every day while hoping to live fully one day.

​The Silent Architect of Dreams ​Part I: The City That Never Wakes ​The city of Aethelum is a mausoleum of aspiration, a colossal, fog-choked labyrinth where the spires of neo-Gothic cathedrals pierce a sky perpetually the color of bruised pewter. It is a metropolis defined by its absence-the absence of laughter, the absence of sunlight, and most terrifyingly, the absence of spontaneous thought. Here, every cobblestone, every rattling tramcar, and every peeling poster plastered across the brickwork is permeated by the cold, metallic logic of the Scriptorium. ​The Scriptorium is Aethelum's invisible government, a council of unseen elders and brilliant, yet utterly amoral, engineers who maintain the city's perfect, somnolent order. Their power source? The dreams of the population. Every night, in a ritual known only as The Harvest, psychic energy-the raw, volatile substance of human imagination-is drawn from sleeping minds, refined, and used to power the city's intricate, clockwork infrastructure. In return, the citizens are gifted Manufactured Dreams: sterile, comforting loops of mundane satisfaction, ensuring compliance, passivity, and absolute control. No true nightmares, no revolutionary visions, no volatile love stories. Only engineered bliss. ​Elara Vance is the glitch in the machine. At 28, she is cursed with Hypnic Insomnia, a permanent neurological rebellion that renders her incapable of sinking into the Scriptorium's fabricated sleep. She is a reluctant, perpetually exhausted sentinel, forced to witness the nightly horrors of The Harvest-a silent, sucking void that drains the lifeblood of millions while they smile in their sleep. Her waking world is a perpetual, exhausting echo of a city that lives entirely on borrowed time and stolen joy. ​By day, Elara is a mere cataloger at the Grand Atheneum, a library so vast its shelves are rumored to spiral down into the literal underworld of the city. ​

"A collection of heart-spoken lyrics and poetic songs that whisper what I couldn't say out loud." Dreamy & Poetic > Some feelings are too deep for just one voice... These are my songs-soft whispers from a heart that loved in silence. Inspired by stardust skies, K-pop melodies, moonlight promises, and the way my heart beats when no one is looking. If you ever loved someone from afar... If you ever wrote a letter you never sent... This is for you. K-pop + Emotional Vibes > A song for every version of me... the soft girl, the CEO girl, the moon girl. Inspired by BTS, IU, love that aches, and the magic of little moments-this is where I write what I can't say out loud. True love, heartbreak, and starry dreams-all wrapped into lyrics that sound like my diary. Come listen... maybe your heart sings the same tune. 💞 Mysterious & Romantic > I am the ocean, soft and endless. And these songs are my waves-rising, falling, reaching for the moon. Every lyric is a hidden part of me. Every poem, a secret I never dared to speak. If you're reading this, maybe... you're my moon too.

A bedroom is more than just a sleeping area for people. It is where children can hide out and read for hours, where vows are bonded and broken, and where dreams provoke new ideas and stories. A bedroom is a shoulder to cry on, a shelter from the cruel world we live in, a sanctuary for those whose minds think differently from the world. It's a place full of memories, good and bad, a place that reminds you of where you came from, and how you grew from it.

Every night, Rookie Mikonnen finds himself entangled in a dream filled with lavender-scented mist and a golden-haired girl who slips away into smoke just as he reaches for her. Each morning, he awakens in his modest kitchen, rides his rusted bike to Dimsdale High for Exceptionals class, and struggles to blend in among the gifted students who can manipulate code, gravity, and even time. Then, the impossible occurs: the dream girl drops a silver ring into his outstretched palm. Suddenly, Rookie is thrust into the spotlight. Hazlynn-queen of hallway drama and heartbreak-witnesses the ring's appearance, and her curiosity is as dangerous as her captivating smile. Reluctantly, they embark on an adventure through a forest shimmering with emerald light, evade a ruthless bully who senses fresh prey, and stumble upon a doorway where dreams and reality intertwine. But every boundary breached comes with a cost, and the dreams have begun to push back. A Whisper Past Midnight is a spellbinding coming-of-age mystery exploring the themes of courage, fractured realities, and the moment when imagination breaks free from its confines. Perfect for fans of Stranger Things and the hauntingly poetic tales of Maggie Stiefvater's Raven Cycle, this first installment reveals how even the smallest pocket dream can transform the waking world.

A collection of short stories about various vivid and lucid dreams by a teenage boy to when he's an adult.