Young Adult

Sacrifices for the Balance Chapter 9: Life on the Front
Percival has to deal with the cold war at home and finds a clue while Wendy does some research. As Percival walked into his trailer, he wasn't sure whether he should be amused or worried. Nier had wasted no time in putting up the obligatory “NO ENTRANCE” sign on his door. Establishing his territory. How cute. Roderick was planted in front of the television playing GTA5, next to him was a large bottle of beer and a bowl of pepperoni ends on the table, his go-tos on a rough day. It didn't take the skills of the tribe's best investigator to figure out why.
By Jamais Jochimabout 6 hours ago in Chapters
Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 20: Of Fake Books, Exploding Pirates, and Raiding Vikings
Prince Ta's office was an organized mess. He kept clipboards of current projects, with people and events linked logically by strings of six different colors. He had a stack of papyrus right next to a well-used quill. He even had books of cases, closed and open. But there seemed to be papers everywhere, covering virtually every surface. He had a nice oak desk somewhere underneath the papers.
By Jamais Jochima day ago in Chapters
Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 21: The Day Before the Morning After
Lord Ashigaru was amused. As he ate a leg of pork, he was reminded of the last operative that had given him news that was inaccurate. He knew that the item wasn't near some cannibal tribe; the last cannibal tribe on Jezreel had been “forcibly retired” almost a century ago; cannibals just don't work well with civilized society. The operative had been forced to help in the kitchen as punishment; Bubastos wasn't necessarily that civilized. The leg was delicious with a little brown gravy.
By Jamais Jochima day ago in Chapters
Dragon Horse. Content Warning.
Nikolaos's shoulders stiffen when at his parents’ voices crackle in his ear canals. He’s forgotten to take off his hearing aid.
By Wen Xiaosheng3 days ago in Chapters
Tattoos and Rail Guns Chapter 20: Stairs and Treaties Are Negotiated
The Rochester-Fallon had not fared well during the cataclysm, a fact that Walker was beginning to appreciate. The lobby had been ransacked, with tiles and carpet shredded and destroyed and the desk itself was smashed. The elevators were definitely out, with doors broken down and cables hung down the shafts. This forced them to use the stairs, which were a ramshackle mess, with handrails barely hanging onto the walls and trash filling the stairwells. Given that the building was a hundred floors or so tall, they prepared for a slog.
By Jamais Jochim5 days ago in Chapters
Tattoos & Rail Guns Chapter 21: The Chaos Becomes Order
Kev grabbed a gargoyle and tossed it just outside the circle of dogs while kicking another. The third clawed him across the belly, leaving deep wounds. Kev hit the one he had kicked, stunning it. The one tossed outside jumped back into the fray. Kev's wounds began healing, but he would not be able to keep up with the damage for long.
By Jamais Jochim5 days ago in Chapters
The Conduit: Chapter 20
Chapter 20 The room, lit by candles, and with a majestic view of the city, was nearly empty except for Daniel Deacon Reddick. Daniel was one of the key developers of the project and a principal owner of the tower development. As he got comfortable on the leather sofa sitting in the center of the room, sipping a glass of bourbon and enjoying a cigar, Daniel listened to the soft music playing over the speakers. He couldn’t remember being so relaxed, and yet he was filled with an anxious excitement he hadn’t felt in ages. Daniel believed he had inked the deal of a lifetime, and the deal was about to be finalized.
By The Man Behind The Mask5 days ago in Chapters
The Day I Stopped Being Afraid
The Day I Stopped Being Afraid BY: Khan Fear had been my quiet shadow for as long as I could remember. It followed me into every room, every decision, every dream I almost dared to chase. Most people couldn’t see it, but I felt it constantly—like a whisper in my ear reminding me that I wasn’t brave enough, smart enough, or strong enough. For years, I listened to that whisper. I avoided risks. I stayed silent when I had something important to say. I chose comfort over opportunity. Whenever life presented a door, fear convinced me not to open it. “What if you fail?” it would ask. And that question alone was enough to stop me. One rainy afternoon, I was sitting by the window of a small café, watching people hurry through the streets. Some were laughing, some were arguing, and some simply walked with purpose. They all seemed so certain about where they were going. I wondered what that felt like. My coffee had gone cold, but I hadn’t noticed. My mind was busy replaying every opportunity I had let slip away. The job interview I never attended. The conversation I was too nervous to start. The dream I quietly buried because I thought it was unrealistic. It suddenly hit me that fear had stolen more from me than failure ever could. That realization felt heavier than anything I had experienced before. At that moment, something inside me shifted. I realized that the real danger in life wasn’t failing—it was never trying at all. Later that evening, I walked home through streets that looked different somehow, even though nothing had changed. The same buildings stood tall, the same cars rushed by, and the same cold wind brushed against my face. But inside me, something was different. For the first time, I asked myself a question I had never dared to consider before: “What if I’m stronger than my fear?” The thought was strange but powerful. The next morning, I did something small but terrifying—I spoke up during a meeting at work. Normally, I would have stayed quiet, letting others lead the conversation. But this time, my voice rose before my fear could stop it. My hands trembled slightly, and my heart raced. But I spoke anyway. To my surprise, people listened. No one laughed. No one dismissed me. In fact, a few of them nodded in agreement. It was a simple moment, but it felt like climbing a mountain. That day became a turning point. I began doing small things that once scared me—sharing my ideas, trying new experiences, and stepping outside the safe routines that had defined my life for so long. Each step felt uncomfortable at first, like learning how to walk again after years of standing still. But with every step, fear grew quieter. I realized something important during that time: fear doesn’t disappear overnight. It lingers, waiting for you to retreat back into safety. But courage isn’t the absence of fear. Courage is choosing to move forward despite it. Weeks passed, and life slowly opened in ways I hadn’t expected. Opportunities that once felt impossible started to appear. Conversations became easier. Decisions became clearer. The world hadn’t suddenly become less frightening. I had simply stopped letting fear control me. One evening, while walking home under a sky painted with shades of orange and purple, I paused and looked around. The city lights flickered to life, and people continued their endless journeys through the streets. For the first time, I didn’t feel like a spectator in my own life. I felt like a participant. That was the day I truly understood something powerful: Fear had never been the enemy. The real enemy was the belief that fear should decide my path. And the day I stopped letting it make my choices was the day my life finally began. Since then, fear still visits me from time to time. It still whispers its familiar warnings. But now, I answer back. I remind it that I’ve already faced it once before. And I survived. Because the truth is simple: The day I stopped being afraid wasn’t the day fear disappeared. It was the day I realized I was bigger than it.
By Khan 6 days ago in Chapters
I Never Meant to Fall for You
I Never Meant to Fall for You BY: Ubaid I never meant to fall for you. That was the plan from the very beginning. When we first met, you were just another person passing through my life. It was a rainy afternoon at the small coffee shop near my office. I had stopped there only to escape the storm, hoping for a quiet corner where I could finish some work. You walked in a few minutes later, shaking the rain from your jacket and smiling at the barista like you had known her for years. There was something strangely warm about that smile—something that made the gray afternoon feel a little brighter. But I didn’t think much about it. You noticed the empty chair across from me and asked politely, “Is this seat taken?” I shook my head. “No, go ahead.” That was supposed to be the end of it. Two strangers sharing a table because the café was crowded. Nothing more. But somehow, conversations have a way of starting when you least expect them. It began with small talk. The weather. The long lines at the coffee counter. Complaints about traffic. The usual things strangers say to pass the time. Yet the minutes kept turning into hours. You had this way of listening—really listening. Not the kind where someone waits for their turn to talk, but the kind where they truly care about what you're saying. I realized I was telling you things I rarely shared with anyone. About my dreams that felt too big. About the mistakes I wished I could erase. About the quiet fear of not knowing where life was heading. And you didn’t judge me. You just nodded, occasionally smiling, occasionally offering a thought that felt surprisingly honest. When the rain finally stopped, we both looked outside like people waking from a dream. “Well,” you said softly, “I guess the storm’s over.” I smiled. “Yeah… I guess it is.” We walked out together, said goodbye, and went our separate ways. At least that’s what should have happened. But life, as I later learned, has a strange sense of humor. A few days later, I saw you again. This time at the bookstore down the street. You were standing in the same aisle I loved most—the one filled with old novels and forgotten stories. You looked just as surprised as I felt. “Rainy day friend,” you said with a laugh. From that moment on, it felt like the universe kept placing us in the same spaces. Coffee shops. Bookstores. Parks. Even the subway once. Eventually, those coincidences turned into plans. We started meeting on purpose. At first, I told myself it was just friendship. You were easy to talk to, easy to laugh with. Being around you felt comfortable in a way that didn’t require effort. But feelings are quiet things. They grow slowly, like a seed you don’t even realize has been planted. I noticed the little things first. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about your favorite movies. The way you always remembered small details about my life. The way silence between us never felt awkward. One night, we were sitting by the river, watching the city lights ripple across the water. You were telling a story, something funny about your childhood, but I wasn’t really listening anymore. I was watching you. And that was the moment it hit me. A quiet, undeniable realization. I had fallen for you. It wasn’t dramatic. No fireworks. No sudden rush of music like in the movies. Just a simple thought that settled gently in my chest. This person matters more than they should. And that terrified me. Because I never meant for it to happen. I had built my life carefully, protecting my heart from the kind of vulnerability that love demands. Falling for someone meant risking everything—your peace, your certainty, even your sense of control. But feelings don’t ask permission. They arrive quietly, take root, and grow. One evening, as we were walking home, you suddenly stopped. “Can I ask you something?” you said. “Sure.” You looked at me with an expression I had never seen before—serious, almost nervous. “Do you ever feel like some people come into your life for a reason?” I laughed softly. “That sounds like something from a movie.” “Maybe,” you said. “But I think it’s true.” There was a pause between us, filled with unspoken words. And then you said it. “Meeting you… it changed something in me.” My heart skipped. Because I knew exactly what you meant. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Finally, I smiled and said the only honest thing I could. “I never meant to fall for you.” You smiled back, the same warm smile from that rainy afternoon. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Me neither.” But somehow, it was the best mistake we had ever made.
By Ubaid 6 days ago in Chapters
Brass Ring Interlude 5: The Importance of Being Earnest
Fleaboy jumped between buildings. He liked that Overton didn’t have any skyscrapers; it made his particular mode of travel that much easier. He liked the wind rushing through his hair; he had even designed his mask so that he could feel the wind as he jumped, and had to keep his hair at a very specific length (too long and it whipped in his face, too short and he missed the sensation). He flipped with every jump so he could see if someone was in trouble. Fortunately, today was mostly boring. Weird, considering the panic the capes community is in.
By Jamais Jochim6 days ago in Chapters
The Conduit: Chapter 19
Chapter 19 In the months since the Oceanic disaster, the group took Max Shepherd, Jensen Shaw, and Shelly Hammers into custody. The rest of the crew and Oceanic staff were treated, paid, and forced to sign non-disclosure agreements. The area was cordoned off for further investigation, and access to the Oceanic was only allowed by special permission.
By The Man Behind The Mask7 days ago in Chapters
The Conduit: Chapter 18
Chapter 18 The fast attack sub was preparing to detach when Jensen, Han, Max, and the rest of them brought Jane Doe back on board the submarine. As the sub shook, echoes of impacts against the station’s undersea levels reverberating through everything attached, Jensen yelled at his men to detach the vessel. One of his men asked for a heading and he replied in his loudest command voice, “Anywhere but here!”
By The Man Behind The Mask8 days ago in Chapters