Fable

ACOTAR Book 6: Sarah J. Maas Ne Kya Kya Bataya Ab Tak?. AI-Generated.
ACOTAR Book 6: Everything Sarah J. Maas Has Said So Far The ACOTAR series (short for A Court of Thorns and Roses) by Sarah J. Maas has become a favorite for fantasy readers all over the world. With magic, romance, danger, and powerful characters, each book has kept fans turning pages late into the night.
By Tanushree Das9 months ago in Fiction
A Tale of Two Potatoes
Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a story Once upon a time, there was a potato. It grew in silence and secret, underground. Corn might wave to get your attention, and tomatoes blush a showy, nay, slutty red... but not so the humble tater.
By L.C. Schäfer9 months ago in Fiction
After The Stars Fell By Hridya Sharma
I often wondered what love is. Is it truly the warm, fuzzy emotions that ooze out of true mirth of care and adore, or is it a product of prevalent capitalism that exists within our world? That makes it easy for the consumeristic and hyperagile construct to sell products to the humans as a marketing tactic, to slip in through the psyche of innocent minds, to create a buzz, to find their weaklings and exploit them for company profits and expansions. I still find myself wondering what love is, pondering over that thought. I searched on Chatgpt What do you think love is, What does love truly mean? Is there any premise in the age-old tales of true eternal love, or are they just some flipping pages of history that are known to mankind through the legends of time, through the sands of ripple effects that last through time? Does happily ever after truly exist? I scrambledly typed and asked the language model, aka AI genius.
By Hridya Sharma9 months ago in Fiction
The Tailor Who Sewed Souls into Coats. AI-Generated.
Prologue: The Shop That Wasn’t on the Map The sign above the door read: "MENDEL'S BESPOKE TAILORING – COATS FOR EVERY OCCASION"
By Wiki Rjm9 months ago in Fiction
Chronos Veil: The Return of Elara
While Nutmeg and Whiskers were in the room of the Chronos Engine, motionless now, the air rippled—full of latent power and creased time. And then the walls of reality that contained them peeled away like gauze, revealing behind the empty space a place beyond dimensions—a lattice of color and movement that grew without limits. Those were the guider's words again—not as thunder, but as a whisper with echo.
By Subha9 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Tree That Watched Us
The Tree on the Hill On the edge of a quiet village named Kalwara, stood a tall, old peepal tree, alone on a small hill. Its branches were wide, its bark dark and cracked like an ancient face, and its leaves sang with the wind. The villagers called it “The Watching Tree”, because no matter where you stood on the hill, it felt like the tree was looking right at you.
By Muhammad Hayat9 months ago in Fiction
KING CPBRA
Loyal Nagaraj (The story of a good snake's adventure, friendship and faith) 1. Mystery One was a dense green forest, the name Shalban. A huge shawl, bird calls, a quiet village filled with jungle smells. In the middle of this village there was an ancient botanical tree, whose roots have come down in the deep of the soil, as if the history of thousands of years has been hidden.
By sagorbari9 months ago in Fiction
The Quiet Freedom of No Longer Performing
There is a very special freedom in not feeling the need to prove anything. As children, we played at entertainment almost all the time, it felt like. That was about attention, validation, and adoration. This, as we chased titles, likes, compliments, and love that was conditional, at times. What we longed for was for other people to recognize us, to find us attractive, to call us ''ambitious,'' ''gifted,'' ''successful,'' ''pretty.''
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Fiction
The Scorpion and the Frog
The Tale of the Scorpion and the Frog Once, a scorpion wanted to cross a stream but was unable to swim. He approached a frog who was preparing to swim to the other side and asked for help.
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Fiction
Battling the Tide
Another body drifted past, this one small enough to be a child. Em turned her face away from it. The railing brought no respite after all. It was rough under her palms, and the sea spray cold and fresh on her face. She had leaned into it for only a moment, to gather herself. Focusing on the feel of splintery, hastily-hewn wood against her hands helped her to ground herself. Gulping stinging lungfuls of the salty air was all that was stopping the waves of nausea that threatened to engulf her.
By L.C. Schäfer9 months ago in Fiction
After my death, a machine replaced me—programmed to love the man who broke me
The day I died, it was raining. Not the poetic kind of rain—the cinematic, silver-threaded drizzle that adds tragedy to parting. No. It was the brutal kind: hard, loud, and impatient. I slipped on the marble bathroom floor, hit my head on the corner of the sink, and everything went dark.
By Lucian9 months ago in Fiction
Zara and the Forty Shadows
In the arid mountains of Zafaria, where sandstorms whispered secrets and moonlight gleamed on ancient stones, lived a clever young woman named Zara. She was the daughter of a humble woodcutter and known throughout her village for her sharp wit and kind heart.
By Jahangir khan 9 months ago in Fiction