Fan Fiction

The Child Who Spoke to the Moon Every Night
Every night, after the world had gone quiet and the house was asleep, Elara would climb onto the old chair by her window. She would press her forehead against the cool glass and look up. Her friend was always there.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
Out of the Woods
The night the storm hit, Mara didn’t plan on driving into the woods. She’d only meant to leave the city—to breathe, to escape the heavy silence of her apartment that still smelled like her ex’s cologne. But somewhere between her grief and the winding backroads, she took a wrong turn, and the road took her somewhere it shouldn’t have.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
The Moon and the Burning Forest
The world was ending in orange and ash. The ancient forest of Elmswood, a kingdom of oak and pine that had stood for a thousand years, was screaming. A careless spark from a forgotten campfire had become a ravenous beast, consuming everything in its path. The air was a solid, hot wall of smoke, and the roar of the flames was the only sound, a hungry, relentless god.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Witness in the Rain
The rain arrived without warning, the way grief always does. Nadia pulled her father's old Corolla into the gravel lot, wipers fighting a losing battle against the downpour. Through the blurred windshield, the motel emerged like something from a fever dream—neon bleeding red into the storm, the word MOTEL stuttering its electric pulse against the darkness. One letter had surrendered to time, leaving a gap like a missing answer to an unasked question.
By Prompted Beauty3 months ago in Fiction
Narcissus . Top Story - November 2025.
When He walked into my space, the barriers were left unsafe, crossing every inch of my own real self. I was open like a territorial book, every layer hooked, twisted and turned upside down by the clamor of his lies and attempts to help. He completely dismantled my work and deprived me of my power, always consuming my most precious treasures and then drooling over the goose.
By Darkos3 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Gift
In Ravelle, time had a slower pace. The streets between the stone houses were meandering like the ribbon streets and every evening, in the air, the smell of bread from the old bakery and the faint scent of rain. At the very center of the town was to be found a little shop with a faded sign reading:
By Nusuki3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Love Letter
In the attic of a small, creaky house, tucked away in a forgotten corner of the world, lay a trunk filled with old letters. The letters were tied with a faded ribbon, the once-vibrant pink now dulled to a soft blush. The address on the top envelope read: "For My Beloved, Forever and Always".
By Muhammad Kashif 3 months ago in Fiction
The View from the Top
The city looked smaller from up here — all glitter and glass, like someone had scattered diamonds across black velvet. I stood on the balcony of my penthouse, the one I used to dream about when I was sleeping on a friend’s couch ten years ago. A champagne flute dangled from my fingers, bubbles rising like tiny ghosts. My phone buzzed every few seconds — messages from people congratulating me on the sale.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction
“Flash Fiction Fridays”
Flash Fiction Fridays By [Ali Rehman] Every Friday evening, like clockwork, the small community of writers gathered online for “Flash Fiction Fridays.” It was a tradition born from a shared love of bite-sized stories — short tales packed with emotion, surprise, and meaning, each no longer than a few hundred words but heavy with impact.
By Ali Rehman3 months ago in Fiction
“Voices of the Creators”
Voices of the Creators By [Ali Rehman] In a small, sunlit café tucked away from the noisy streets of the city, a group of creators gathered once a month to share their stories — the stories behind their stories, the voices that shaped their art. They called it the “Voices of the Creators” series: intimate conversations that brought light to the hidden moments, the doubts, and the triumphs of those who create.
By Ali Rehman3 months ago in Fiction
“Whispers of the Unknown”
Whispers of the Unknown By [Ali Rehman] The village of Eldermoor sat at the edge of the world — or at least, that’s what the locals believed. Nestled between misty woods and an endless stretch of twilight sky, it was a place forgotten by time, where strange things whispered on the wind and shadows danced just beyond sight.
By Ali Rehman3 months ago in Fiction
The Ritual That Ate the Morning
Introduction 🌑 At first glance, rituals seem harmless—even beautiful. A cup of coffee before sunrise, journaling before bed, lighting a candle to focus the mind. But what happens when the line between a calming habit and an obsessive compulsion begins to blur? This article explores that quiet transformation through the lens of a character who clings so tightly to their ritual that it becomes a cage of their own making.
By Karl Jackson3 months ago in Fiction