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Petry Alice Hall Studies In Short

Alice [REDACTED]

Ever wonder who writes the story of your life? No, not the author of this little synopsis (that’s me, by the way, hey there). I mean the big one—the all-seeing, all-knowing, slightly bored half-deity who probably thinks tragedy is an art form. Yeah, that one. She goes by the name Prometheus. This? This story is her absolute favorite—a killer she simply calls "Alisha." Why her favorite? Well, Prometheus has penned quite a few stories, even gave birth to her own duology (coming soon, don’t miss it), but Alisha? Oh, she’s something else. Betrayal, bloody battles, an identity crisis so deep it’ll pull you in (don’t even try to deny it). It’s a masterpiece in the making. But here’s the kicker: Prometheus didn’t just create Alisha. Oh no, she’s still writing her. Every step she takes, every bullet she fires, every question she asks about this so-called "real" world—it’s all me. Or at least, it was. Here’s the problem, though. Alisha is starting to... notice. She’s getting wise to the fact that her life isn’t hers, that her world is a little *too* convenient, and that her big mission? It’s not just about taking down the Prince who wants to rule the world—it’s about finding me. And let me tell you, reader, I’m equal parts terrified and exhilarated. So, here’s where you come in. As Alisha races through the shadows, pulling at the loose threads of her reality—and my divine little plot—she’s getting dangerously close to breaking out of this story altogether. If she finds me? Well... let’s just say the line between creator and creation might start to look a whole lot blurrier than either of us is comfortable with. But hey, it’s all part of the narrative. Probably. Shall we turn the page? Or should I rewrite Alisha out of this story before things get... a little too complicated? ~Prometheus
mingsthighhighs · 4.3K Views

Flowers Drunk Fill the Hall

In the beginning, he said, "A lowly commoner from Jiangning County? What a disgraceful status, I won't marry her!" After meeting her, he clicked his tongue, "So frail and delicate, she can't stand a blow, too weak, I refuse!" When she approached him alone, carrying the marriage book, he stood leaning on the door, grinning insolently, "Are you here to make me marry you? But this young master doesn’t want to marry young!" Upon learning she was there to annul their marriage, his face turned dark as a thunderstorm, emanating a murderous aura, "Who gave you the guts to revoke the marriage with this young master?" ... Su Rong felt, Duanhua Princess must be blind, this man was so pampered and spoiled, how was he worth dying or living for? If she had known earlier, she would have thrown the divorce letter at his face the first time she saw him. ————————————— The tender signs of spring on the delicate Hibiscus pillow, amidst the drunken flowers filling the room, unnoticed. — Su Rong. A gallant young man in fine clothes and on a steed, a single glance causes a lifetime of confusion. — Zhou Gu Your wish is my wish. I wish to have known you earlier, protect you among the aromatic chambers strewn with brocades. Tear through the illusions, cut down the thorns, with hands unstained by blood, just as pure as you were when we first met, the young and soft little girl. Your wish is my wish. I wish I had known you sooner when you were like a refreshing breeze near the moon. I dared not approach for fear of disturbing the phoenix and mandarin ducks. Praying to be the moon in the sky to cast a reflection on you, accompany you while you watch the flowers bloom in the spring and gaze at the snow in winter, each and every year at Chang'an.
Xiziqing · 563.8K Views
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