Internalmonologue Stories

In a world where science and magic bleed together into a nightmare of survival, appearance is the ultimate deception. Zeraran looks like a nightmare incarnate. Standing tall with a massive, muscular frame, dark-skinned and possessing a gaze that screams "cold-blooded killer," he is the image of a high-level villain. But behind the defined chest muscles and the murderous stare lies the heart of a professional coward. Transported by a mysterious shadow demon to a wild, unforgiving dimension known as the Constant, Zeraran is forced into a game of survival he never asked for. While the world expects him to be the apex predator, Zeraran's only real goal is to find a hole to hide in. To stay alive, he must maintain his "villainous" facade to intimidate the bizarre creatures of the wilderness-all while screaming internally. In a land where hunger is a constant threat and the darkness itself has teeth, can a man who is afraid of his own shadow survive by pretending to be the very monster everyone fears? "I'm not the hunter. I'm just the biggest bait in the woods."

An extended version of the scene between Dinah Madani and Krista Dumont in Krista's hospital room, with more insight into what Krista is thinking, plus a surprise button.

"Sometimes, the things we don't talk about become the loudest memories." Ken was once a bright, social kid - until betrayal shattered his world in Class IX. Now in high school, carrying scars no one sees, he meets the one person who might change everything. But how do you rebuild when the past is louder than the present? A slow, emotional journey of healing, memory, and one-sided love - wrapped in the falling colors of autumn. The Autumn Leaf is a bittersweet light novel about growing up, fading friendships, and the weight of unspoken pain.

"The spring hasn't arrived yet. The park's ponds haven't thawed. The flowers haven't bloomed. The sun, still in slumber. The only song that I can hear is that of a lonely heart. With each beat, my hands grow colder. I can no longer feel the warmth of my mother's hand in mine. What a terrible gift to remember all that you experience as an infant. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if I didn't recall her. Waking up to my mother's beautiful amber eyes that outshone the sun. Her sweet touches, her silky hair. Her every word was music to my ears." A short story inspired by a prompt on reedsy.com: "Write a story about someone walking through a park on a spring evening, told only through internal monologue."

A man struggles with two companions during a stay at his Mother's house

His hands tighten on the wheel, eyes glancing from the speed on his car to the heating settings to his back mirror to his radio to his side mirror and again to his back mirror to the moon no no no go back to the mirror not the moon stop thinking about the moon stop thinking stop thinking- Just. Stop.

A short story about love and loss, and coping with both.

In a world where rules weigh heavier than truth, one misfit drifts through memory, oppression, and existential fatigue. As sunlight blisters reality, the line between rebellion and numbness blurs. This story explores inner battles, generational scars, and the silent revolt of standing still. Will they speak out, fade away, or just... stand there?

You're welcome for the fuckery that is my mind on constant society as if it's the weed of the FUCKING joint being passed to my fucking brain It doesn't make sense Nothing in this makes sense ((Begone wench of filth- You whore of desperation and fortitude)) I'm sorry what? ((Filth)) ((Filthy mugwump))

Hak x Yona AU A one-shot of Yona's internal monologue where she finally realizes what she fights for.

A heart caught in the spaces between yearning and retreat, where every glance is a question unanswered. The pull of something unspoken drifts in the quiet, a fleeting touch of warmth in the chill of hesitation. A smile lingers like a forgotten song, both a temptation and a threat. In the spaces between longing and fear, the soul stands at the edge, unsure whether to leap or turn away.

He held a worn polaroid in his hands and gently outlined the date that he never wanted to forget with his fingers. Was that day so magical? He could hear the ocean waves beating against the small pebbles of the beach and felt the fast and heavy beating of both of their hearts. He felt full, he felt loved and cared for. He felt safe and sound when icy arms wrapped around his waist, when warm lips pressed against a prickly cheek. Because the scariest part of love is that you are absolutely vulnerable to your dearest, and the person who makes your heart beat is the one who can make it go through such torments and agony that are tens and hundreds of times greater than all the happy moments that you have lived together. "Oh, love isn't there to make us happy. I believe it exists to show us how much we can endure." Hermann Hesse, "Peter Camenzind" this story is co writen with @FacelessFigure, and the cover is made by her < 3

Love sometimes begins with a sentence. But their story began long before a single word was ever spoken... Eren Kara-28 years old, intelligent, profound, and passionate, a literature professor whose life had always been in harmony with words. But there were some feelings no book could ever describe. And Lara Ravenshade-19, just starting university, introverted, yet speaking volumes with her eyes. When she walked into the classroom with her waist-length red hair, she had no idea where her heart was about to lead her. Time didn't stop at first glance. The world didn't change. But something cracked in the walls inside Eren. Everything in the classroom was ordinary... Except Lara was there. And her silence began to echo in the quiet corners of Eren's heart-the parts that hadn't spoken in years. This is not just the story of a love. It is the story of how a forbidden feeling slowly took root, without permission. The story of two lonely souls, who-without a single touch-learned to hold onto one another in a world that watched too closely. Passion doesn't always scream. Desire doesn't always rush. Some loves grow only in the deepest quiet... And sometimes, a single look... Can rewrite the fate of an entire life...

Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too. The (Netflix) series, and Adrian's childhood, told from the perspective of the castle. INCREDIBLE cover art (and art for Ch3) by Junki Sakuraba on instagram and deviantart!! (https://www.instagram.com/junkisakuraba/ , https://www.deviantart.com/junkisakuraba)

A woman tries to escape her past, but when a journalist making a documentary comes to dig a little deeper trouble starts to stir as old family secrets are uncovered.

An in-depth look into Gilbert's internal monologue in Pandora Hearts Vol 10, Retrace XL: Blindness, using the theme of Inktober 2018 Prompt 1: Poisonous.

Tara, a girl who loves sleeping because her dreams are better than her reality but her reality doesn't let her sleep peacefully, Just existing her life hoping it will get better someday. Sagun, a boy who is rude careless, but who enjoys his life to the fullest. Tara is tired. Tired of being totally misunderstood, of hiding her thoughts, of carrying pain no one sees, but Sagun? Sagun is loved, fearless, unbothered & adventurous. When their worlds collide, It gets messy. It's slow, but It's real. It's messy. It's healing. It's a total chaos. Basically, it's just life - but with a plot.

~ He knew he wasn't gay. But Joe? Joe had always been special to him. More than just a best friend. [...] He wasn't gay. They were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Then, when Joe started dating a girl, why was he feeling that way? Why did he still feel that way? ~ My monthly contribution of writing triden fics until Trump mandate end (starting before he starts lol)

[COMPLETED] "The only thing I'm truly afraid of is my striding silhouette, mimicking the portraits pacing apace the path of life" A poetic story of a depressed artist's quest through madness with the guidance of a depraved angel Note: For the best possible formatting on mobile, read in landscape mode.