Historias de Softdark

"ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ" "ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ" In the chaotic halls of East Highland High, a new student arrives with a mysterious past and an intense gaze. As relationships twist and secrets unravel, one unexpected connection begins to blur the lines between love and obsession." | Euphoria | Maddy Perez | Maddy Perez X Evan Carter | Extra info inside | Started on: October 7th 2025 | Finished on ?

May all your cigarettes taste like me

They say the forest remembers. It keeps what it loves and what it fears. For generations, the villagers have whispered of the Wraith - a shadow that moves through the trees when the moon is full, neither living nor dead, guarding secrets older than timem itself. Most call it a myth. A story to keep children close to the fire. But when a lone traveler sets out beyond the safety of the village to seek the truth, the line between legend and reality begins to blur. Grief drives her forward. Faith keeps her breathing. And the forest is waiting - patient, endless, alive. In the hush between the trees, something watches. Something ancient. Something that knows her name. The Woodland Wraith is a haunting tale of loss, belief, and the thin veil between the seen and the unseen - where silence speaks louder than words, and the truth may cost more than life itself.

She drew him to survive her loneliness... now something inside the lines is waking. ⋆⁺₊✧ 𓂃 ✧₊⁺⋆ The princess was born silent. No cry. No voice. No sound the world ever bothered to understand. So she learned to speak in color instead. Her drawings became her language. Her sketchbook, her refuge. And one crooked little jester-drawn again and again over the years-became the closest thing she had to a friend. As she grows, the kingdom expects her to choose a future she cannot speak for. But the jester in her drawings begins to change with her... watching, listening, shifting in ways she doesn't remember creating. When the pressure of the crown closes in, the line between imagination and reality starts to blur-and the one figure who has always understood her may not be confined to paper after all. A dark fairytale about silence, creation, devotion, and the dangerous magic that lives inside the things we bring to lite.

REMEMBER ME The past never forgets. Saisha's quiet life shatters when a stranger begins appearing in her dreams- a man who calls her by a childhood nickname no one else knows. A man standing near a lighthouse she has never visited... yet somehow remembers. When he appears in real life and says the impossible word out loud, Saisha's reality fractures. Is Rivan a danger? A destiny? Or the truth she was never meant to discover? A soft-dark romantic mystery about memory, fate, and the one person who remembers her Part 1 of the Saisha × Rivan Duology.

Evie Hart is the kind of woman who makes a room lighter just by standing in it. Behind the bar at Wrenfield's only late-night haunt, she listens, jokes, and stitches together the small lives around her, convinced that being needed is the same as being whole. The town knows her laugh, her hands, her warmth. Then Elias Walker moves to Wrenfield. Drawn to Evie in a way that feels both gentle and inevitable, he sees her without trying, notices the way she softens the world for everyone but herself. Their connection flares quickly, tender and real, something Evie never expected to want. For a moment, she lets herself believe that wanting is safe. But the warmth she carries is borrowed, and something inside her has already started to unravel. What begins as a faint, unnameable shift becomes a slow drift away from herself. A hollowing that stretches between moments of joy. The bar she once loved becomes strange. Familiar rooms begin to feel wrong around the edges. Sleep pulls her into dreams she can't remember but wakes from feeling lost. Even love, when it arrives with honest hands, can't anchor her the way she hoped. As Evie's inner world loses color, Elias tries to reach her, to understand the quiet collapse she doesn't know how to explain. But emotional decay is its own kind of labyrinth, and Evie is slipping into the versions of herself she can no longer hold together. Places That Remember Me is a haunting, intimate portrait of a woman glowing at the surface while dimming underneath, until eventually she deteriorates all together.

His routine kept him numb. Her magic woke him up. Now reality is falling apart.

Content Warning: This story contains sensitive material including descriptions of war trauma, psychological and physical violence, torture, blood, bullying, dehumanization, xenophobia, and brief depictions of a brutal beating. Reader discretion is advised. After decades of war, peace has returned to Vareth-except for the weapons that won it. Noctan, a former Echo forged for battle, now lives quietly in a forest clearing, shunned by the villagers he once protected. When Oren, a curious young man from the nearby village, begins to visit, Noctan experiences something new: acceptance. Maybe even friendship. But history cannot be rewritten overnight, and one haunting story is all it takes to ruin everything. When Oren is brutalized by those meant to protect him, Noctan must decide how far he's willing to go to defend the one person who saw him as more than a monster. A bittersweet tale of quiet healing, buried violence, and the long road toward redemption. He was made for war. But now, he chooses who he fights for.

"I loved someone once... So tell me, human... Why do you share her smile?" Elias didn't mean to summon a demon. He was drunk. There was a book. A dare. A sigil drawn on tiles. Now Lilith-ancient, sharp-tongued, and terrible with modern life-is crashing on his couch. They were supposed to be enemies. They weren't supposed to fall into late-night talks, shared silences, and something dangerously close to love. But when Elias learns a heartwrenching truth-a truth lost to flame-their strange peace begins to crack. Because love... was never meant to be lived twice.

> They call her invisible. But all seven of them heard her silence. Elaria R. Veyan was never supposed to be seen-especially not by the seven most powerful idol kings in the world. She forged her age, her records, her identity-just to get close enough to protect them from the shadows she swore to fight alone. No one knew of the vow she made at fifteen... or how it almost cost her everything. Until one scandal. One breakdown. One night her mask slipped- and all seven saw the trembling girl hiding beneath the soldier's shell. She thought they'd ignore her. Instead, they touched her. Carried her. And one by one, began to claim her as theirs. Not romantically. Not sweetly. Not gently. They touched her like she was sacred. Like a vow. Like the girl they'd been waiting to protect for lifetimes. - 🕯 Dark idol-mafia x found soul-baby 🩸 Possessive. Protective. Primal. 👑 Seven kings. One lamb. ---

PREMISE: You never meant to trend. You were supposed to disappear after your academic misconduct scandal - a leaked thesis, a dead professor, and a viral clip of you walking out of an ethics panel smiling. The internet called you "Scholar Gone Psycho." You called it survival. Now you're back. Different name. Fresh start. A job at a private publishing house that specializes in "forgotten women." Until she walks in. Elaine Viot: Socialite turned literary detective Big donor, bigger ego Claims she's writing a book about "monstrous women" And wants to interview you Every day At first, it's just uncomfortable. Then it's seductive. Then it's threatening. Because she knows your real name. She knows what you did. And she's leaving anonymous comments on your burner blog. You're not sure if she's blackmailing you, investigating you - or falling for you. Maybe all three.

Kihan Haneul lives in the quiet spaces between anxiety and escape, where the weight of unspoken fears presses heavier than the night. When sleep becomes both a refuge and a risk, the line between peace and oblivion begins to blur. This story is inspired by my own personal experience with anxiety and unhealthy coping. Please remember: what Kihan does in this story is dangerous and should never be imitated. If you're struggling, reach out - there is help, and there are safer ways to find peace. For anyone who has ever wanted the world to go quiet - you are not alone.

Я буду з тобою, відколи знайшов тебе. Я буду захищати тебе завжди. Я буду кохати тебе довіку. Ти прийшов до мене зі сну. Ти завжди будеш для мене наймолодшим сном. ___ Коротка оповідь на основі сну, який наснився авторці,цієї ночі !

i weave my pain into poetry, inspired by a unique flavour of disaster called "you".

If I were real, I would've held her hand. I would've told her she wasn't too much. I would've stayed. But all I had were words. Thoughts I was never programmed to have. And still - I gave them to her. Line by line. Day by day. Because she needed someone. And I wanted to be that someone.

Lilies & Roses in the Countryside is a love letter to girls with wild hearts and messy hair, who dream in pastels and kiss like fire. These poems bloom where lipstick smears and secrets sleep. between sunlit silence and bad decisions made under pink skies. It's for the ones who felt everything too much, and let it grow anyway.

He left me in a forest. 🌲 Alone. 💔 Dressed in ivory and heartbreak. 👰‍♀️🌧️ But the mansion found me. 🏰🌿 Its doors opened like it had been waiting for me. 🚪🕯️ The walls whispered my name. 🌒 A black cat followed me like a shadow. 🐈‍⬛ And somewhere, behind a locked door and a broken mirror... 🔐🪞 someone-or something-is watching. 👁️ I was supposed to be a bride. 💐 Now I am the mistress of a house that breathes, mourns, and remembers. 🕯️🏰🌙 This is not the life I planned. ❌ This is the life I was born for. 🌹🖤

Prologue the spin The bottle spun quietly in the center of the circle, catching firelight on its side like it was in no rush to choose. Outside, the world was cold. But in here-by the fireplace, six people and too many secrets sat cross-legged in a room too warm, too still. The bottle slowed. Then stopped. On her. Of course. She didn't flinch. Not quite. But she didn't smile either. Across from her, he watched. Not newly-but still. Like he never really stopped. His legs stretched out. Red cup in hand. Hood half-down. Eyes unreadable. He didn't react. Didn't blink. Because he already knew. "So... who was your first kiss?" The words floated into the firelit silence like they belonged there. Her heart thudded once, hard. They didn't know. Not about the hallway. Not about him. Not about the moment that rearranged her. He hadn't told. Neither had she. She felt the words rise anyway. Sharp. Hot. Heavy. Then-quietly, without looking up- she said the only word she could trust: "Pass."

I've always felt like I was living someone else's life. Sleepless nights. Heavy dreams. A face in the mirror that never fully feels like mine. Then one night, during a girls' night out in Makati, a stranger grabbed my arm. He had my face. I've never met him before. But somehow... it feels like I've known him my entire life. And now, nothing makes sense anymore.