Unreliablenarrator Stories

❝𝐀𝐈𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓...❞ ╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮ ↳ 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝, 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 - 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳-𝘧𝘰𝘳-𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘺𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘺'𝘴 "𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴". 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘺𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. ╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯ ↳[ᴄʏʙᴇʀᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴇᴅɢᴇʀᴜɴɴᴇʀꜱ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴄʏʙᴇʀᴘᴜɴᴋ 2077 x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴋɪᴡɪ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.]

Eighteen months after vecnas defeat the party is back together to celebrate graduation, but something Feels different in Hawkins. Maybe shes been away for too long, but robin can't shake the feeling that something is different. Memories don't align, details are wrong, and strange happenings around town catch Robin's attention. Hawkins isn't the only things that's different, though. As Robin works to understand what's happening, she finds herself getting distracted by a certain wheeler, that until recently, she believed to be straight. But, can she balance the stress of saving Hawkins, an unstable family, and a heated brewing romance? -------------- Robin POV Ronance fic inspired by the conformity gate theory

In a world where magic is feared and gods are forgotten, Nythera has lived a quiet life under the care of a reclusive lorekeeper. But on one clear night, the sky ignites with a streak of silver-beautiful, impossible, and seen by no one but her. When whispers of old power spread through her village, Nythera is thrust from safety into a world that calls her dangerous, cursed, and hunted. With only her childhood friend Dael to guide her, she must navigate zealots, forgotten relics, and the pull of something far greater than she could have imagined. As her own powers awaken, Nythera faces a terrifying truth: to survive, she may have to embrace the very essence that has shaped her-and risk everything to awaken a god. Veil of Winter is a story of power, trust, and the fragile line between destiny and destruction, and the first book in the Eirath series.

Some secrets should stay buried... but mine clearly didn't get the memo. What we left behind... and what found us. His shadow. My secrets.

"If only what I thought was enough"

After witnessing her best friend's death, Vivian Maxwell realizes her obedience is gone. Determined to find answers leading to her death, Vivian takes risks she has never has before to uncover the truth. In order to gather answers, she must work with Sophie's arrogant older sister, Natalie. The main question is, how well do you really know your best friend?

fires that burn in the quiet are much more likely to scar the ones closest to them. #1 in bigmama feb' 26😏

The world is a stage, and Nessa is the only one who can see the seams. ​To everyone in Oakhaven, it's just another Tuesday. But for Nessa, the morning light feels like a thin veil ready to tear, and the walls of Lakewood High feel more like a movie set than a building. For a year, a rhythmic, growling "Thunder" has haunted her dreams-a sound that feels less like a nightmare and more like a warning. ​While her best friend dismisses her fears and the boy she secretly loves offers a "brotherly" shoulder to lean on, Nessa is left alone with a terrifying realization: the world is cracking open, and she's the only one who can discover the truth.

Connie Springer is a mess. He hates college, hates making decisions, and hates how much easier it is to hide in his dorm than face the world. Sasha Braus is the one person who makes everything feel survivable-his best friend, his comfort, and the girl he's absolutely not supposed to fall for. One fake relationship, a very real kiss, and a lifetime of emotional fences later, Connie is forced to confront the thing he's been avoiding the most: wanting something enough to choose it. Slow burn. Fake dating. Emotional idiots in love. I'm a newer writer so don't hate too bad

What is a good name to call someone who has a pointy hat, wears dark outfits, owns a flying broom, does hexes and spells and is super powerful?! Well isn't that kinda rude, but it's true. My name is Ruby Mysticflame and I'm a 16 year old teenage girl, but not just any average teenage girl. I'm a witch, but a good witch...I think...?! And also I'm supposedly the Bearer of all magic, the saviour of this world and the bridge between good and evil!?!? What a story! And in this story you'll be seeing a lot of witches, wizards, immortals, mortals, angels, goddesses, warlocks, sorcerers, sorceresses, mystical creatures etc. Join me on my adventure in the Fantastic World of Witches and witness the curses, drama and all the friends we make along the way! (Authors Note: Hiiiii guys glad you are checking out this story, which is my own original story by the way, I just wanted to say that none of the images used here are mine. They belong to other amazingly talented people...or AIs?! 🤔WHO KNOWS HEHEHEHAHAHA)

She remembers a life full of pain. Every night, sadness follows her to the rooftop-until she meets him. A stranger who wants to help her understand her mind. She s lost but he wanted to find her and her memories..... One of them is wrong. anything can be wrong but once the truth can be proven.... u can t accept lies no more Sorry I lied to you... myself.

C Block has always had rumors about a little girl. Vedha never believed them. Until one night at 1:35 AM. She sees a child standing on a terrace that was never supposed to be open. She runs to save her. She feels her hand. She brings her down the stairs. But the girl disappears. By morning, the floor is locked. The terrace key doesn't exist. No one believes her. Some nights are just nightmares. Some times are warnings. And 1:35 AM is not meant to be ignored. 🔖

Twelve years after losing his wife and daughter, a man known as Lucas Merrick hunts the people he believes destroyed his family. Guided by a voice he trusts more than his own memory, Lucas follows a list of names-each one tied to blood, guilt, and unfinished business. The killings feel justified. Necessary. Almost merciful. But grief distorts time. Memory lies. And some voices don't belong to anyone else. As the truth fractures, Lucas discovers that the past he's been running from isn't chasing him anymore-it's already inside him. The man he thought he was may never have existed at all. This isn't a revenge story. It's the echo of one. And once the truth speaks, it doesn't stop.

"What do you want?" Till asked, his eyes down and glued to his notebook, his ashen locks falling over his forehead as he finished up a sketch of Mizi. A lot, Ivan concluded, his thoughts racing in his head. So much more than you would ever know. I want to hold you close and never let go. I want your touch; your love; your attention. I want to spend the rest of eternity, the tedium of time, with you-just so then I would have something to live and die for. I yearn for the lingering glances you couldn't possibly cast on me. I yearn for the fleeting touches that last only in my imagination. I want to be ruined by you. To be broken, wrecked, consumed completely by you, so you can put me back together with soft whispers and sweet nothings. But those were thoughts that belonged in the darkest hours of night; kept in the quiet confines of Ivan's room, where he would gaze out his window, only the faraway stars to keep him company. And he knew better than to speak his mind. "Draw me."

the world where u feel familiar but not safe

A young girl trapped in a claustrophobic home with her mentally ill mother and exhausted father is witness to the rapid decline of her family; Shadows crawl from beneath the furniture. Her mother whispers to unseen presences and performs erratic rituals, while her father hides behind long hours at work, unwilling to confront what is happening. As the strangeness within their four walls escalates, the girl struggles to discern whether the horrors are supernatural or the manifestation of her mother's unraveling mind. But she knows one thing: something in the house has marked her and she may be next.

The story follows Valen, a highly skilled Pokémon trainer, who goes on a journey to find her missing best friend, Azul. Follow her adventures as she unfolds the mystery little by little, only to find a bigger scheme at work. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Pokémon appearing in the story nor the items (Pokeball, Potions, gym badges) nor design the background characters (skier, worker, etc.) as they belong to Gamefreak and Nintendo. The rest of the characters (Valen, Azul, Antonio, Matias, and more characters coming soon) however, are mine, with inclusion of an invention (The Flying Flower). This story is intended as a troll, so please don't take it too seriously.

Protagonists, the most important characters in stories. They're the ones that are supposed to save the world and be a symbol of hope for humanity, the ones that can defeat anything in their way if they want to, the ones whom the reader wants to win and succeed... ...Well atleast thats how a good heroic protagonist should be. I wrote three novels after dropping out of college at 20 years old. My first novel was a disaster, boring characters, recycled plot, and a protagonist so rude even I wanted to punch them. The next two? Absolutely amazing and really well-liked. I was ready to quit writing for good when i suddenly got hit by a car and woke up in someone else's body, someone i don't recognize at all, who goes to the exact same school from my first novel. Yeah. That happened, i'm screwed. Great. Now I'm stuck in a world full of arrogant, clueless students. Why couldn't i have entered one of my better stories?! And if that's not enough, the soul of this body won't stop yelling at me to "give their body back", as if i could do that, while a tiny version of them sits on my left shoulder and a tiny version of my 19 year old self from my past life rides the right shoulder. What even is happening anymore? Sigh...

Part of a grand origin myth contained in an even larger story that I may never complete. Enjoy

She thought it was just a mirror. She was wrong. Some reflections don't belong to you. Some rituals are not meant to be remembered. And some men don't come into your life to save you... they come to study you. One stands in the shadows, whispering rules that were never written. The other watches with calm eyes, collecting pieces like evidence. Between them, she doesn't know whether she's the subject... or the experiment. Nothing is what it seems. Not the mirror. Not the ritual. Not even the truth. And the worst part? You won't know who the real villain is - until it's too late.