Fan Fiction

PART II — THE SKY THAT REMEMBERS
The instant Kael and Elara stepped through the star-lit arch, the ground vanished beneath their feet. Wind roared around them. Colors bled like liquid starlight, swirling in impossible shapes—spirals of violet flame, rivers of gold flowing upward, fragments of constellations drifting like snow.
By Alisher Jumayevabout a month ago in Fiction
THE LANTERN OF THE LAST SKY
Wind curled like silver ribbons along the cliffs of Asterfall, carrying scents of pine, cold stone, and something older—something the villagers only whispered about when night grew too still. As dawn painted the sky in molten rose, Kael Rowan, apprentice mapmaker, sat on the highest rock ledge with his boots dangling over the abyss.
By Alisher Jumayevabout a month ago in Fiction
Secrets in the Grey Stone
The chipped porcelain of the teacup warmed Elisabeth’s hands, but did little to thaw the chill that had settled deep in her bones. Rain lashed against the gothic windows of Blackwood Academy, mirroring the tempest brewing within her. It wasn’t the storm that frightened her, not anymore. It was the silence. The *wrongness* that had permeated Blackwood since the Autumn Equinox.
By 𝒩𝓊𝓉𝓊 𝒱. 𝒞.about a month ago in Fiction
Carols of the Damned
The Saint Cecilia Choir had seen better days. Once the pride of the town, their performances now drew only a handful of listeners. The director, Margaret Hensley, a once-renowned soprano, refused to let the choir fade into obscurity. “We just need something special,” she insisted. “Something that will remind people why they loved us.”
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Saint Nicholas' Last Ride
The snow fell in ashen flakes, the sky above a perpetual gray that mirrored the despair of the world below. In the year 2147, Christmas was a relic, outlawed decades earlier by the Council of Unity. Declared a source of division and greed, the holiday and its traditions were erased from history books. But whispers of rebellion persisted—quiet murmurs of a time when people gathered, when joy and giving weren’t crimes.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Gift of Wrath
The holiday party was in full swing, with laughter and the hum of festive music filling the air. Emily, the office manager, had outdone herself this year. A crackling fire, garlands draped across every surface, and a massive Christmas tree glittering with golden ornaments dominated the room. In the corner, the Secret Santa table overflowed with wrapped gifts.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Vox's Famous Meat Pies
The Perfect Meat Pie Starring Alastor the Radio Demon and Eris Willow Eris Willow smirked as she saw Vox's head getting torn off his body by Valentino. As everyone cheered and celebrated their survival she took a hold of Vox's body and quickly dragged it into an alley way that lead to a door to her restaurant called The Capricorn. Closing the door behind her she started undressing the headless body and threw it in a tub for cleaning. She washed it from neck to toes scrubbing every inch she could. She then chucked the body into a giant meat grinder making him into a fine ground meat. It had a metallic look to it, but once she cooked a little as a meat patty and seasoned it well, it didn't taste much different than hamburger meat. She baked the rest of the meat into pies and decided to give Alastor a little treat. She sold all the pies, but one and took the pie to Alastor for him to try and eat.
By Eris Willowabout a month ago in Fiction
The Snowfall Between Us
The first snowfall of the year always made Winterbridge feel like a storybook town. Trees glimmered like silver sculptures, rooftops softened under fresh blankets of white, and the river that ran through the valley turned quiet, as if holding its breath.
By Zidaneabout a month ago in Fiction
Where Stardust Becomes Love
Some children inherit lullabies, some inherit bedtime stories—but I inherited silence. A silence filled with questions no one could answer. A silence shaped like a mother I never met.
By Mohammad umarabout a month ago in Fiction
Dream-Sculpted Mother
The night I created my mother, the sky was unusually quiet. Stars shimmered like secrets waiting to be heard, and the moon hung low, as if it wanted to watch what I was about to do. I stood alone on the rooftop, palms open, heart trembling with an ache only a child without a mother could understand.
By Mohammad umarabout a month ago in Fiction
Why CHILDREN see what adult can't
Children have always been associated with a strange sensitivity an ability to stare into empty corners, speak to unseen “friends,” or react to spaces adults feel perfectly comfortable in. Parents often dismiss it as imagination, but across cultures, this pattern is too consistent to ignore. Why do children seem to perceive what adults can’t? Several theories scientific, psychological, and metaphysical offer possible explanations.
By Akmal95Jrabout a month ago in Fiction
When Darkness Taught Me to See
The Night Everything Went Black I still remember the exact moment the world went dark. Not just the physical dark—the kind that creeps into a room when the power goes out—but the emotional one. The kind that settles into your chest quietly, like it has every right to stay there.
By Fazal Hadiabout a month ago in Fiction