Lukyan wasn’t here, and Seth was stepping around in the mud trying to look for something she lost. The deeper she searched, the more strange things started to get, the mud started to turn into a watery mess, instead of… well, actual mud. The air felt still. Then, she found a room. She had never seen this before, so she decided to step in to see if it somehow had rolled here.
Behind it was darkness. And in that darkness, sat a desk. On top of the desk rested a single black book. Her breathing slowed as she recognized it immediately. It was the Author’s Book. How could he have had it? Last time she checked, it was with- oh. He stole it from Artethe former god. Its cover shifted like moving ink. Gold detailing twisted into symbols she couldn’t fully comprehend. And attached to its spine-
her pen. The very pen she had been searching for. It hung there as though it had always belonged to the book. Seth approached carefully. “This isn’t funny.” No response. She glanced around for Lukyan. Nothing. Slowly, she grabbed the pen and yanked it free. The moment her fingers touched it, everything went horrifyingly bright. Then it all went dark again. The book had opened itself, its pages shifting violently until stopping on one final entry.
It was Lukyans. Paragraphs filled the page. His childhood. His rise to power. Every conversation, every lie, every prayer, every- everything! And at the very bottom, it said ‘Ending Pending.’ Seth stared at the words. She looked behind her and made sure she was still alone, then back at the page. This was impossible, this was wrong. But part of her…the darkest, most exhausted part of her, thought of every lie Lukyan had told. Every ounce of pain he had caused. Every way he manipulated people into worshipping him.
And then she had a thought she shouldn’t have had: ”What happens if I change it?” Her hand moved before her conscience could stop it. And she crossed a line through his name.
hey! just wanna talk about why i havent really been active (tw for suicide and allat jazz)
so recently ive not been doing my greatest. ive been barely able to get out of bed except for school, to the point where i feel like my body has started to rot inside. because of this state that ive been in, ive been unable to talk to a lot of people that i have been friends with for quite some time, and unfortunately have had to leave some of them.
i tried to commit suicide a little while ago so im still trying to heal from that and get better, but whilst im in this depressive state its hard to get up or eat or communicate to my family that i am suffering. i dont think my family can be described as the greatest people, so i am scared to tell them. they often forget what i say and overlook me.
i do admit that i am sorry that i havent been talking a lot or feeling my greatest, i usually get sick after a while of conversation so i often just leave. looking back on that, it is me who is in the wrong for doing this. ive been dealing as well with a lot of personal things, such as dealing with my sexual assault and my abuse as a child.
again, i am sorry for this period of silence, but in order to protect myself and keep myself mentally safe and not constantly overworking myself to the point where i break, i think this is best for me.
hey! just wanna talk about why i havent really been active (tw for suicide and allat jazz)
so recently ive not been doing my greatest. ive been barely able to get out of bed except for school, to the point where i feel like my body has started to rot inside. because of this state that ive been in, ive been unable to talk to a lot of people that i have been friends with for quite some time, and unfortunately have had to leave some of them.
i tried to commit suicide a little while ago so im still trying to heal from that and get better, but whilst im in this depressive state its hard to get up or eat or communicate to my family that i am suffering. i dont think my family can be described as the greatest people, so i am scared to tell them. they often forget what i say and overlook me.
i do admit that i am sorry that i havent been talking a lot or feeling my greatest, i usually get sick after a while of conversation so i often just leave. looking back on that, it is me who is in the wrong for doing this. ive been dealing as well with a lot of personal things, such as dealing with my sexual assault and my abuse as a child.
again, i am sorry for this period of silence, but in order to protect myself and keep myself mentally safe and not constantly overworking myself to the point where i break, i think this is best for me.
Seth groaned, slowly lifting up her hand in order to attempt to put it on her head. She tried to lift herself up, but a piercing pain came through her ankle. She couldn't see, she was blind, how could she know what it was? She slowly started to lift her leg up to try and regain mobility, only for her to hear squelching and more pain coming from her ankle. She could really only guess that something had pierced through her ankle, possibly a spike or something else. Her breathing slowly became more shallow as reality began to sink in. She was alone, she was injured, and she was blind. The cold seeped in next, creeping through her clothes and into her bones as she lay there, shaking. She tried to listen instead, counting the sound of her own breathing, the distant hush of wind, anything that might tell her where she was or if anyone was nearby. There was nothing. Just the steady reminder of her own heartbeat and the pain anchoring her in place.
She stayed there longer than she meant to. Not because she wanted to. It was because moving felt impossible. Every breath hurt. Every small shift reminded her of what her body could no longer do the way it used to. The cold pressed in around her, patient, waiting. But staying meant dying. That thought cut through the haze. Seth planted her palms into the ground, fingers slipping against snow and stone as she tried to push herself upright. Her arms shook violently, barely able to hold her weight. The moment she lifted herself even an inch, pain flared again, sharp enough to make her vision swim, pointless, empty darkness swirling behind her eye. She collapsed back down with a strained sound, chest heaving. "No," she muttered, the word raw. "No- I can’t-"
She didn’t finish the thought.
Instead, she shifted her focus. If she couldn’t stand, she’d crawl. If she couldn’t crawl, she’d drag herself. Anything was better than staying where she was.
Her hands searched blindly, scraping over rock until her fingers found something solid. An edge, a ledge, a rough surface she could grip. She pulled herself forward inch by inch, ignoring the way her body screamed in protest. Each movement was deliberate, slow, like she was learning how to exist all over again.
At some point, the ground angled upward. The cliff.
Her breath caught. She tilted her head back as if she could somehow sense how high it went, how far she’d fallen. There was no way to know. No way to see. Just the cold stone rising in front of her, indifferent and endless. She pressed her forehead against it, shaking. "I can do this," she whispered. She didn’t believe it, but she said it anyway. Her fingers climbed first, searching for cracks, for anything that felt like it might hold. She tested each grip carefully, shifting her weight with painful slowness. When her footing slipped, she froze, clinging desperately until her breathing steadied again.
Time lost meaning as she climbed.
There was only the stone beneath her hands, the ache in her muscles, and the burning insistence in her chest that she had to keep going. She didn’t think about how far she had left. She didn’t think about what would happen if she fell again. She just moved. Up. Grip. Pull. Breathe. Her body trembled with exhaustion, arms threatening to give out, but she forced herself onward anyway, scraping, climbing, surviving through sheer stubborn refusal to let go.
She was blind. She was broken. She was terrified. And still, she climbed.
The ground stopped sloping. Seth didn’t realize she’d reached the top at first. She crawled forward another step, then another, until her hands met open space instead of stone. She froze, breath hitching, heart hammering as the truth slowly settled in. There was nowhere else to climb. She had made it. Her arms gave out and she collapsed forward, pressing her face into the snow as her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps. The cold burned, but she welcomed it. It meant she was still here. Still breathing. She dragged herself, before she felt someone. A cheek.
"Artemis?" Her throat felt raw, like the name had scraped its way out of her. She reached forward, hands shaking, fingers searching blindly through the snow. “Mom?” Her palm touched fabric. Warm. Still. Relief surged through her so fast it hurt. She scrambled forward, hands tracing familiar shapes. An arm, a shoulder, the curve of a body she knew better than her own. Then she stopped.
Something was wrong. Too still. Too quiet. Her hands moved faster now, panic bleeding in as she searched for movement, for breath, for anything. She pressed her ear against Artemis’s chest, listening desperately for a heartbeat that never came. "No," she whispered. "No. no, no, no-" Her fingers brushed against Artemis’s face. The corruption was unmistakable even without sight. The wrongness clung to her skin, heavy and cold, like something that should never have existed had settled there and refused to leave.
Artemis was gone. Seth curled in on herself with a broken sound, forehead pressed against her mother’s shoulder as her body shook. She had climbed all this way. She had survived for this. "I can’t see," she choked out, words tumbling over each other. "I can’t see- I don’t know where I am- I don’t know how to leave-" Her hands clenched into Artemis’s clothing, knuckles white. She didn’t know who she was begging. Artemis. The world. Something listening. "I need you," she whispered. "Please."
Her fingers drifted upward, trembling as they brushed against Artemis’s face again. She paused when she felt it. The only thing that still felt right. Whole. Untouched. Her eye.
Understanding didn’t come gently. It came like a sentence being passed. "I’m sorry," Seth said, voice barely there. Not to excuse herself. Not to justify it. Just to acknowledge what she was about to do. When she pulled away, nothing changed. The darkness didn’t lift. The world stayed black.
Seth gasped, clutching at herself as realization hit. It hadn’t worked. She was still blind. Still lost. Still alone. She folded over, pressing her forehead into the snow beside Artemis’s body, sobbing silently as the cold crept closer and the weight of what she had done settled in her chest.
Artemis was dead. And Seth would carry her eye without ever seeing the world it was meant to show her.
Hey, hey! It's me again! Did you know that the Snowfall Glade just got a major update? Yes! Did you know Red Winter is gone? FINALLY! I HATED THAT EVENT!
Update log:
Seth now has a house. She has a cabin, wow!
Multiple extra houses have been added to the Glade incase there are visitors.
Dahlila's house has been added.
The basement has been added.
I really hope you guys enjoy this update. This took a while LMAO.
Isa stares at Your Friend for a bit, and tilts her head. After a moment of silence, she reaches into her satchel, still relatively brand-new, with some kind of purple-pink-black charm hanging off the side, and pulls out a bunch of chocolate, gold foil-wrapped coins.
She giggles, and proceeds to run off and twirl about into unknown distance.
The coins were slightly soft, as though they’ve been sitting in her bag for way too long. But it still tasted nice.
Your Friend stares down at the chocolates in their hand, before closing their hand. She seems awkward looking at food.
Hi Leon/Mashiro, I know you have retired from the Roblox myth community but is it ok if I can include your characters (Artemis, Seth, Zara, etc) for a web novel/creepypasta adaptation of the entire Daisy's World myth so far with your permission? If you say no, I understand. Thank you (and sorry just incase).
Reading below may give spoilers for the new updated story of the former Snowfall Glade. Trigger warnings will be updated here once backstory has been added. Thank you for reading!
Your friend presents themselves as gentle, familiar, and approachable. Someone meant to be trusted. This persona is not an act so much as a habit. A way of softening herself so others will not look too closely at what she is carrying.
Your friend is defined by survival after irreversible damage. At the point of her 'death', her body was already failing, broken, blinded, and incapable of defending itself. She was grieving the loss of Artemis, enduring constant pain, and left without protection or direction. What followed was not a clean ending, but a prolonged collapse in which their body gave out before their will did.
Despite this, she persists. She speaks calmly, offers help, and minimizes their own suffering, as though it were something unimportant or already settled. Their presence suggests comfort, but it is the comfort of someone who has accepted that nothing will truly improve, only continue.
Appearance
Seth appears perpetually worn down. Her build is slight and underweight, giving her a fragile silhouette that contrasts with the severity of her expression. She carries herself stiffly, shoulders often drawn in, as though bracing for something unseen.
Her hair is dark and uneven, nearing mid-back length and usually left messy or unstyled that frame her face. Strands frequently fall into her face, obscuring her eyes and adding to the impression that she is only half-present. She dresses simply and professionally, dark, muted clothing chosen more for practicality than comfort or self-expression.
One eye is a deep, unnatural red, sharply standing out against the otherwise muted palette of her features. It does not move quite the same way as the other, giving the sense that it is borrowed rather than her own. The contrast draws attention immediately, even when she avoids eye contact.
Her face is marked by two prominent scars. One runs along the left side, uneven and blunt, the result of a violent fall. The other, thinner and more deliberate, sits on the opposite side, self-inflicted during a desperate attempt to navigate her surroundings while blinded. Together, they give her an asymmetrical, damaged appearance that she does nothing to hide.
Behavior
Baseline Demeanor
Seth presents as withdrawn and guarded, even in situations that appear safe. She speaks softly when she speaks at all, often hesitating mid-sentence or trailing off as if unsure whether continuing is worth the effort. Eye contact is inconsistent, sometimes avoided entirely, other times held for too long in a way that feels unintentional rather than confrontational.
She rarely initiates interaction. When approached, she is polite but distant, responding out of obligation rather than comfort. There is a persistent sense that she is listening for something else, as if her attention is split between the present moment and an internal threat she never fully escapes.
Physical Behaviors
Seth exhibits constant low-level tremors, most noticeable in her hands and shoulders. The shaking worsens under stress, fatigue, or emotional pressure, and does not fully stop even at rest. She frequently keeps her hands occupied, clenching fabric, biting her nails, or holding objects simply to ground herself.
Her movements are careful and deliberate, particularly in unfamiliar environments. She tends to favor walls, doorframes, or furniture, subtly orienting herself as if mapping the space by touch and memory rather than sight alone. Sudden sounds or unexpected movement often cause her to flinch or freeze briefly before she forces herself to continue.
Sleep deprivation heavily affects her behavior. When overtired, she becomes more dissociated, slower to respond, and visibly disconnected from her surroundings.
Trauma Responses
Seth displays classic trauma responses, including hypervigilance and exaggerated startle reactions. She is acutely sensitive to environmental changes. Lighting, reflections, silence, or repetitive sounds can all provoke visible distress.
She avoids mirrors and reflective surfaces when possible. When unavoidable, she may stare at them for prolonged periods, dissociating rather than engaging with her reflection. These moments often end abruptly, as if she “snaps back” and physically removes herself from the situation.
Emotional flashbacks manifest as sudden shutdowns rather than panic. During these episodes, Seth becomes quiet, unresponsive, and internally withdrawn, often losing track of time.
Disordered Behavior & Coping
Seth’s relationship with food is strained and inconsistent. Hunger cues are often ignored or overridden by anxiety, leading to prolonged periods of not eating followed by guilt or discomfort when she does. This is less about control and more about detachment from her own physical needs.
She engages in self-soothing behaviors that border on self-destructive, not out of intent to harm, but as a way to remain present. Nail-biting, skin-picking, and repetitive motions are common, especially when she feels overwhelmed or trapped.
Her pain tolerance is unusually high. Seth often fails to acknowledge injuries or physical discomfort unless they actively prevent movement, suggesting a long-standing disconnect between body and mind.
Emotional Patterns
Emotionally, Seth is muted. Strong feelings such as grief, fear, affection, are present but rarely expressed outwardly. When emotions do surface, they tend to do so in short, uncontrolled bursts before being quickly suppressed.
She struggles with guilt tied to survival and dependency, particularly in relation to Artemis. This grief does not manifest as outward mourning, but rather as a persistent undercurrent of self-blame and emotional numbness.
Despite this, Seth shows moments of gentleness, particularly toward animals or vulnerable individuals. These moments are quiet and fleeting, but genuine, suggesting that her empathy remains intact, even if buried.
Songs
String Theory - vally.exe, SoundCirclet
Voice Claim
Blue Diamond - Steven Universe
Pinterest Board
Jan 25, 2026 - Explore mash 🤍's board "👁️ . seth" on Pinterest. See more ideas about pretty words, pretty quotes, words.
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