[Glitchatopia]

Username + ID: Glitchatopia + 1065549
Name: Sombra
Prompt:
She stands, or stood, some amount of time ago, teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff, looking off to the ocean far below, looking for something deep under. Waves crashed against the rock, threatening, over and over again, to break the whole thing off, send it spiraling into the water. A slow reclaiming of the ground, a gentle promise that perhaps someday, everything will go back to the way it once was.

It was exactly the same that day one-hundred years ago, or maybe it was much longer, and she has since forgotten. She remembered it just as clearly as she did when it happened, the memory just as painful as the sharp rocks down on the shore, amongst the tide pools below.

Her partner had died, a mundane tragedy, the kind everyone fears because it must happen eventually. She came to this very shore, this very cliff, and stared up at the Moon.

“Please,” she begged. “Bring them back.”

And the Moon descended, a gentle white light that was not quite a glow but a reflection of a sun long set. Her face was gentle but stern, her silver eyes deep and searching.

“You know that is impossible.”

She knew, yet she did not want to hear it. She shook her head. “There must be something, some way I can see them again.”

“I can not change what has already happened,” said the Moon.

“Yes, you can. You must. Every night I watch the tide rise and cover all the rocks, displace all the animals who hunt and feed on the fish. Every day I watch the tide fall, the fish that can’t make it back washing up on the shore. Everytime our planet spins you spin too, the flowers bloom in your light. You change all of this, change all of these things that are set in stone, change them with ease! Please, allow my partner to rise again, like the tides, rise again like the sun in the morning. I know you can, allow me just this one thing!”

The Moon sighed, no stranger to the requests of grieving Kalons. She knew her words would fall on deaf ears. The Moon could change all these things, yes, but they were meant to be changed. Meant to rise and fall, unending, forever, until eventually everything was no more. But his poor Kalon’s partner…? There was no way to start what has since stopped. An end was forever the end.

But she thought and thought, and, struck with pity, she gave the Kalon a promise.

“I can not bring them back, but I promise you-- every night of the full moon, stand on this cliff, and you will see your partner swim amongst the reeds and dance along the shore. They will sing your old songs and play with the fish. They will never be able to see you nor hear you, but you will, I promise, you will.

But if you ever leave this cliff, the apparition will vanish, and you will never see them again. They will rest, as all Kalons have to, eventually. But, for now, for as long as you need, for forever, perhaps, you can sit up here and wait for them. They will come.

Heed my warning, my dear-- this is a half-existence. You will never be fulfilled up here. But I will give you this. I promise, I will give you this.”

At that, the Moon floated up, back into the sky.

And so, there the Kalon stood, on the cliff, waiting. And on the first night of the full moon, there her partner leaped along the shore, humming an old song they had once sung together. She sang it, too, knowing they could never hear.

She stayed there, unchanging, a shadow. Once her but now no longer, once free but now chained. She cried, and she waited, hoping one day she might truly be reunited with her partner yet again.

[Exitium]

Username + ID: Exitium + 626371
Name: Ghoul
Prompt:
"I weep, weep, weep.
Tears drift down my face.
Misfortune, a curse
Drifting away in a hearse

Pain, sorrow, disbelief
I open my heart to you
Greed, chaos, a travesty
Look upon your majesty."

Sworn to ferry the souls who haven't properly passed to the other side, Ghoul weeps for the loss of brilliant lives. The connections made, the experiences in those lives, it all makes them cry.

Memories are fleeting, but the emotions held by objects and souls are not. They stick with Ghoul for their eternal life, haunting them long after they have assisted the souls in passing on and going through the cycle of reincarnation.

Other ferriers of souls tease them for how emotional they are, wearing their heart on their cloak sleeves. This doesn't bother them...much. Unfortunately, Ghoul has always been a sensitive soul. Even before their pledge to be a soul ferrier, they would cry at the drop of a hat. Outbursts of anger were frequent, happiness radiating off of them at other times. They showed every part of themself freely.

Despite being quick to cry, they do not often weep for this long. No, this is the loss of their closest companion. Someone they formed a bond with, a living being before their soul was to pass. It was unexpected, yet the clock cannot be turned back. This injustice, while off the books, can not be reversed without the intervention of the Deities above. No...Ghoul would continue to weep for this loss, for they held no belief in the living deities and their "kindness". They'd been in this business for long enough to know these deities were fickle, bestowing their powers upon only the most devoted.

Ghoul would carry this loss for decades, tear tracks becoming a permanent feature of theirs. They would never forget their dearest companion, Reverie. [305 Words]

[uunicorn]

Username + ID:
Name:
Prompt:

mark

[honee bee]

———art credit

Username + ID — honee bee - 348767
Name — verity [v - air - ih - tee]
Prompt

Verity always felt most alive in the garden where the world seemed to breathe with her. She would spend hours each day tending to the plants, Verity always felt most alive in the garden where the world seemed to breathe with her. She would spend hours each day tending to the plants; gently pulling weeds, trimming dead leaves, and ensuring every flower, vine, and bush was taken care of. Her garden was a small sanctuary, a living tapestry of colors, scents, and sounds. Birds flitted between branches, bees hummed busily from bloom to bloom, and the breeze whispered through the leaves. It felt as if the earth itself was speaking to her.

But as the days grew shorter and the chill of winter began to creep in, she felt a heaviness settle in her chest. The leaves, once green and vibrant, now turned brittle and brown. The flowers she had nursed through the summer’s heat were now decaying, their bright petals wilting into the cold earth. The buzzing of bees had long quieted and the birds had migrated to warmer places. The once-lush garden was slowly fading, and with it, Verity’s sense of peace. All that remained was the harsh stillness of the coming winter.

Winter always brought a sadness to Verity’s heart. It wasn’t just the frost that turned the garden to stone that saddened her, but the emptiness that followed. The joy she had found in watching new life sprout and grow seemed so distant now. Each dead leaf felt like a small part of her soul wilting away, as if nature itself was retreating from her touch. She would stand in the garden, her breath visible in the cold air, and mourn the life that slipped away. The empty branches seemed like bones and the frozen soil was like a silent grave. Even though she knew the cycle of nature, it was hard to shake the feeling of loss. Winter felt so long, so relentless, and the wait for spring seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t help but stand in the snow and decay of her garden, reminiscing about the way things once were, and cry.

word count 333 words

[quiche cat!]

username + ID: quiche cat! + 430690
name: soonie
prompt: 473/750 words

grief was a strange thing. at first it washed over you gradually, like a salty wave lapping at a sandy shore. but in a moment’s time, the waves could begin crashing down on innocent creatures making their way across the pebbles and rocks, sweeping them into the abyss of the sea, of your emotions.
soonie flicked a speck of sand off her paw with an irritated huff. she stared out at the restless sea, dyed orange and pink in the rising sun. her cheeks were stained with streaks and damp with tears, and her eyes were red and stinging from her restless night of sobbing—plus, maybe the salty ocean air around her.
as the sky grew brighter and the sea grew calmer, people started to come up to her and share their condolences. I’m so sorry. sorry for your loss. it wasn’t her time. she’ll be waiting for you, don’t worry. do you need anything? I’m sorry, soonie.
she didn’t say a word throughout these encounters, just blinked at the blurs of people sorrowfully until they, looking sorry for her, bid her farewell and left her in peace… until the next person came along.
by the time the sun was setting, burning the water with glorious oranges and gold hues, her toes were wet from the continuous lapping of waves at her feet, and she was starting to get cold. it started at her paws and crawled up her veins like ice, until it reached the tips of her ears. it felt good. it hardened her senses until, as the last drops of sunlight faded beyond the horizon, she truly felt like a statue made of stone. or maybe bronze. maybe something stronger, like steel. but the icy cold still flowed freely through her body beneath the thick metal.
soonie was suddenly engulfed in shadow, and she allowed herself to stand up, shake the dampness from her fur. she curled her claws into the sand, and relished in the feeling of the crumbly substance as it crunched between her toes and rained back down onto the shore. it reminded her of the life that had drained from her lover—that she had drained from her lover. in her eyes, the sand turned to blood, and she was standing in it, watching as it dripped from her outstretched paw. dripping, dripping, dripping, until the heartbeat ringing in her ears stopped. silence.
all she could hear was the lapping of the waves—the cold, red waves—as she blinked through the tears that had been streaming down her face all day. and when she looked up at the moon, glowering down at her, a gentle breeze swept the hair away that covered her face and revealed a small smile beneath her glistening eyes.
no one would ever know.
only the gentle waves and the moon were her accomplices.

[Lex.]

Username + ID: Lex. 959439
Name: Agnes
Prompt:

Deep beneath the waves, hidden among the shadowy reefs, lay the lair of two sea witches, Agnes and Azalea. They were practicing sea witches and very close friends, hidden in the depths of the salty sea. The air in their abode was thick with the scent of brine and something far more sinister. The walls of their lair shimmered, lit up by the soft glow of captive jellyfish, their neon light casting ominous shadows. Agnes and Azalea were not typical sea witches. They were seekers of power, greed for it coursing through their veins. Their friendship was forged years ago in a shared desire if not necessity to wield power beyond the understanding of their kind and become notorious.

One night, they ventured to conjure the most perilous spell yet - one that promised unimaginable power but at a cost they could not foresee. The spell required a rare artifact, a pearl said to hold the essence of the sea's wrath. As they chanted around it, their voices echoed through the chamber, disturbing the stillness of the water. The pearl began to glow, pulsating with an energy that made them ache. The air grew colder, the shadows twisting into menacing forms. Then, it happened. A blinding flash of light, and the chamber fell silent.

Agnes opened her eyes to find Azalea transformed - a weeping angel statue, her form frozen, yet her eyes alive with a mournful light. Agnes's heart raced as she reached for her friend, only to be met with cold, unyielding stone. Panic gripped her. The spell had consumed Azalea, trapping her in a prison of stone. Agnes's guilt was overwhelming. She had pushed for this power, this knowledge, and now her friend was lost.

Visions haunted her—dark, twisted images that seemed all too real. She heard whispers and voices urging her to set Azalea free. She quickly flipped through some notes while still half-staring in a daze at the statue. After realizing the pearl contained primordial water, she realized what had become of her only friend.

Azalea's spirit was not at rest. She was alive. Trapped within the statue, she had become a vessel for a force of evil, a curse that threatened to unravel the ocean itself brought upon her by the mysterious pearl. Her greed for power once she made contact with the pearl gave her what she had asked for. But she failed to realize that nothing came without cost. She was powerful beyond anything a sea witch had even been, with knowledge that had been lost for millenia.

She turned away to cry, to suddenly hear a moving stone. She turned back to find that the statue had moved closer.She gathered her strength, shaking with fear. Why was she moving? Why could I sense something trying to reach out? She quickly prepared a sealing spell, a magic that would entomb Azalea's spirit, keeping the curse at bay. She knew the statue was a shell for her friend, keeping her locked away. It was almost infectious the way it had taken over her. She cast the spell with the remaining magic she had left, as it took an enormous amount to seal the greatest danger she’s ever encountered. As she cast the spell, the chamber trembled, and the statue began to sink into the shadows, swallowed by the darkness. It was almost as if she had heard Azalea herself scream as the statue fell down to the pits of the abyssal waters.

The pursuit of power had led her down a path of destruction, costing her the only friendship she had. She emerged from the lair, never to speak of Azalea again. As if her grief and confusion wasn’t enough, it seemed as though the pearl had gotten to a part of her too. Her eyes couldn’t stop from crying, the tears saltier than the brine they swam in. It caused her no lasting harm, though it stung every time she opened her eyes. Her lifespan had gone on longer than normal, forced to carry the burden of the knowledge of what happens when you tamper with power you don’t understand, and forced to live in pain and grief.

[695/750]

[Rabbit]

Username + ID: Rabbit + 623629
Name: Ziren
Prompt:

"I don’t cry.

That’s what I used to tell myself. Tears were pointless, useless. Crying didn’t change anything, didn’t make people suddenly care, didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear. It just made me feel more vulnerable, more useless, more weak.

But right now, sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest, I can’t stop. My chest heaves, and my hands shake as I press my palms against my face, trying to muffle the pitiful sound.

Memories of my childhood creep in more often than I'd like, slipping through the cracks when I least expect them. Anything can set me off now -- seeing a happy family in a movie, children having fun with friends, a parent taking care of their injured child. I longed to feel what that kind of love felt like. My upbringing was nowhere near that experience. It was empty. I was never the kid people wanted around. I was too quiet when they wanted noise, too strange when they wanted normal, too slow when they wanted fast. The other kids ran around and played, while I sat alone and made up my own stories in my head.

I got used to it. I got used to watching from the outside, sharing inside jokes and secrets I was never a part of. I told myself I didn’t care. That it was fine. I was okay to just sit by and listen, I was happy to just be there -- until I wasn't there anymore. I was no longer wanted.

I believed that being alone was my fault. That there was something wrong with me. And if I wanted people to stay, I had to be… useful. Obedient. Easy.

That’s what my parents taught me, anyway. Not with their words, —but with the way my dad barely looked at me when I didn’t fit the image he wanted. With the way my mom only acknowledged me when I was doing something she could brag about to her friends. Their love, if it could be called that, came with conditions. Conditions I could never meet.

So I learned. I learned to stay quiet, to say what people wanted to hear. I learned how to make myself convenient, to be someone that wouldn’t be tossed aside so easily. I let people talk over me, walk all over me. I let them treat me like I was nothing, because deep down, I thought they were right.

This is what you deserve.

I can still hear the words, their voice ringing in my head. I let them sink in so deep, that even now, when I know better, when I know I deserved more, they still linger like an old wound that never quite healed.

I should hate them. The people who hurt me, the ones who took advantage of my silence, my desperate need to be wanted. But I don’t. I just hate myself. For believing them. For not standing up for myself. For being weak enough to let them shape me into something I never wanted to be. But I can't stop seeing it as my fault.

It’s so stupid. I have good people in my life now. Friends who actually care, who don’t expect me to shrink myself to fit their needs. They listen to me, they respect me, they tell me I matter even when I struggle to believe it.

But that doesn’t erase the past. It doesn’t make the deep scars go away. And maybe that’s why I’m crying.

Because I spent so long surviving that I never really let myself feel it. The pain, the loss, the grief for a childhood that never really felt like mine. And the guilt, too—the overwhelming, suffocating guilt of realizing how much I let happen, how much I let myself be stepped on and treated like I was disposable. Even though I know it wasn’t my fault, even though I know I was just a kid who didn’t know any better, I still can’t shake the shame.

But beneath it, buried under years of bitterness and exhaustion and loneliness, there’s something else. Something I never thought I’d feel.

Relief.

Because I made it. Because even if the past still lingers, even if the wounds haven’t fully healed, I’m here. I have people who see me, who care, who remind me that I’m more than what I was taught to believe.

And maybe, for the first time in my life, I’m starting to believe it too."

[750/750]

[Griff]

Username + ID: Griff 254592
Name: Alora
Prompt:

it was still hard to believe, looking out upon it. She had not left these lands that long ago, feeling stifled by the lack of civilization. There had been no houses, no cars, no schools, not even a grocery store. This land? This land had been a wild swamplands, a place where it seemed all of the things untamed by the world sought refuge. She had been born here, the product of a pair of kalon who felt free-living was the best living. She had been raised with the gators and the fireflies, learning to find food and shelter from what the land provided. But she had heard whispers of the world beyond? She had seen their lights, at night in the distance. And so she had followed.

She found the world beyond was strange, new, and bright. Oh so bright. Here there was not the sound of crickets and birds but engines and other kalon. It fascinated her. So she chased this strange world, following it into mechanical adventures. But she came to realize... nothing here seemed alive. The smells here were acrid and unnatural, and everyone seemed confined. She thought, perhaps she imagined it. So many were here perhaps she had not found yet the heart of their city.

Years passed, but she never found it. She began to feel homesick for what she had left behind. She could still remember the gators, the crickets, the fireflies. They sang! And so she made her way back home, curiosity sated. Only, when she returned... the swamps were drained. Signs had been placed for future construction. The wildlife was gone, the music silenced. She ran deeper into the site, but it was more of the same. The tears came before she could stop them.

As the tears fell, they gathered into waters. A soft purple glow began to fill the area, plants beginning to sprout and overtake the machinery. It was not until she heard a cricket chirp that she looked up, staring wide-eyed as the tears continued. The land now a strange blend of the home she had left, and the place she had ran away too. But, it was not home. Her tears continued, and to this day it is said that she still looks over the land as a guardian, hoping to ensure it is never lost again. But she still cries, knowing that one day she will not be enough and the land will be lost again.

[Maringue]

Thank you all for the support on my first adopt as a guest artist <3
All of your entries were so beautiful and I had a lot of fun reading them!
Each story had a different way of drawing me in. I also thought it was so cool to be able to see how your personalities came through in your writing!

This competition was extremely hard to judge, but the entry that captivated me the most was:

Username + ID: morgana 1012721
Name: Sepulchria
Prompt:

I was pulled into your writing and was able to draw a picture with your words, which can be rather rare for me. I look forward to seeing how you develop Sepulchria!

[honee bee]

Congrats to morgana for winning! Your answer to the prompt was so compelling, you are an excellent writer! <3