Fan Fiction

The Algorithm of Lost Things
The 'Lost and Found' corkboard at the Corner Market cafe was, to Leo, a perfect example of existential clutter. It was a chaotic, faded mosaic of laminated gym cards, singular gloves, and yellowing flyers for pets that had probably found new homes years ago. Leo came to the Corner Market every Tuesday at 7:15 AM for the same reason—reliable Wi-Fi and the precise density of their whole-wheat bagel. He wanted order, and the bulletin board was an affront to his system.
By Murad Ali Shah2 months ago in Fiction
Love in the Arms of the Ocean. AI-Generated.
The sea stretched endlessly beneath the Titanic, calm yet hiding secrets in its dark depths. On the fourth night of the voyage, a soft orange glow from the setting sun painted the ocean like melted gold. Among the countless passengers wandering the great ship, two souls were about to cross paths in a way that neither time nor tragedy could erase.
By Bilal Mohammadi2 months ago in Fiction
Unbreakable Friendship in the Heart of the Jungle. AI-Generated.
In the eastern part of a wide tropical forest, where tall grasses met thick clusters of trees, a small research camp had been built by wildlife observers. The camp was simple—three tents, a supply shed, and an open area where the workers discussed their daily notes. Among the staff was a young boy named Arin, who had joined the team with his older sister, Lira, a field biologist. Arin was not an official member of the group, but he helped with small tasks such as sorting equipment or carrying messages between workers.
By Bilal Mohammadi2 months ago in Fiction
✨ The Echoes Beneath the Bridge
Maya could trace the old river bridge in her sleep. That weathered blue span had been the backdrop for every childhood memory, every whispered story from her dad, every quiet hour she spent sitting on its railing with her feet dangling and her thoughts wandering. The bridge meant home and history and comfort. But most of all, it meant truth.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
Shades of the Unspoken 🎭
The world had been stripped of colour for so long that most people couldn’t even describe what the loss meant anymore. Kids grew up knowing only greyscale skies and ash-washed streets. Elders told stories that sounded like bedtime lies, whispering of hues so wild and vibrant they felt like spells. A red that burned. A blue that breathed. A green that soothed. Everyone nodded politely, the way you do when someone swears they once met a celebrity or survived a tornado. Cute story. No proof.
By Karl Jackson2 months ago in Fiction
The Cozy-Tok Tyrant
The mission was “Cozy Core Autumn.” Elara had spent three hundred dollars and six hours building the perfect set in the corner of her apartment. A chunky knit blanket, artfully draped. A vintage copy of Jane Eyre. A ceramic mug from a local potter, filled with a cinnamon-dusted latte that had taken four tries to foam correctly. Three strategically placed pumpkin spice candles, because the algorithm loved odd numbers.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
A Stranger Smiled at Me
Sometimes, the smallest gestures leave the deepest marks. I was walking down the same cracked sidewalk I had walked a thousand times before, my hands stuffed into my coat pockets, my thoughts hovering somewhere between yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s anxieties. The sky hung low, a heavy gray sheet pressing down on the city, and I imagined that the clouds were weighing down not just on the streets but on everyone who moved beneath them.
By Emranullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Train That Arrived 10 Years Late
I was the only person on the platform when it arrived. Midnight at Bramwell Station was never lively, but that night the silence felt unnatural—heavy, like the air was holding its breath. The timetable board blinked its usual digital emptiness, showing only the morning departures. No trains were scheduled. No tracks were lit. And yet—
By Emranullah2 months ago in Fiction
✨ The Boy Who Remembered a Life He Never Lived
At first, it felt like any ordinary dream — blurry, soft, melting away the moment I opened my eyes. But something was different. Something stayed with me. The color of the sky. The smell of roses. The faint sound of a girl laughing.
By Muhammad Kashif 2 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows. AI-Generated.
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows Rayan was eight when he first noticed the extra shadow. It appeared on a quiet November night — the kind where the cold crept under doors, and the moon shone bright enough to make the whole room glow silver. He had woken from a dream he couldn’t remember, his heart beating too fast, his throat too dry.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
The Library That Remembered Her. AI-Generated.
The Library That Remembered Her Arman had not planned to walk that way. He never did. The old district near the abandoned harbor was a place he avoided — every street carried the faint echo of her laughter. But that night, the wind felt oddly familiar, almost like someone was guiding him by the sleeve. Before he could realize where his feet were leading, he was standing in front of a building he had never seen before.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
An Unexpected Encounter in the Jungle. AI-Generated.
The jungle was alive with the soft chorus of insects and the distant calls of hidden creatures. Morning sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, breaking into shimmering golden fragments that danced over the river. The water flowed gently, winding like a silver ribbon between the towering mountains that guarded it on both sides. It was a place untouched by roads or villages, a place where silence had a heartbeat of its own.
By Bilal Mohammadi2 months ago in Fiction