Fan Fiction
Snakes on a Pole
2004: We split. You take our knowledge, I take our desire. The brain and heart metaphor is somewhat apt. Other parts remain neutral or retain sovereignty, and reluctantly aid us both. The separation seeming both involuntary and undesirable (particularly on my end), our spirits long for unfractionation, and tug on each other.
By A. S. Lawrence3 months ago in Fiction
the Timekeeper’s Promise
In the heart of Eldoria, a city where time was measured not by hours but by heartbeats, there lived a young inventor named Kael. He was known throughout the city for his strange machines—devices that hummed, ticked, and shimmered with blue light. But his most ambitious creation was hidden deep in his workshop beneath the clocktower: The Timekeeper’s Heart — a mechanical clock said to control the flow of time itself.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Fiction
The Lonely Moon and the Dancing Stars
The Moon was a creature of quiet grace and perfect order. She followed her path across the sky with a serene and constant rhythm, bathing the world below in a soft, silver light. But in her heart, she carried a quiet sorrow. She was lonely.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Whisper Beneath the Floorboards
When I first saw the old townhouse at the end of Wicker Street, I wasn’t looking for beauty. I was looking for quiet. The kind of quiet that fills the air after heartbreak, when your own thoughts become too loud to bear. The landlord, a weary man with half-moon eyes and nicotine-stained fingers, handed me the keys with a warning:
By Muhammad Kaleemullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Signal Beneath the Ice
The Signal Beneath the Ice Some things are buried because we’re not ready to hear them. The wind over Halley-7 sounded like a saw through glass. It shaved the surface of Antarctica into shards and ribbons, erased footsteps in seconds, and carried the kind of cold that made bones remember it. Inside the station, the hum of generators pretended to be warmth.
By Alex Mario3 months ago in Fiction
When the Moon Forgot to Rise
It began with a silence. Not a sound silence, but a light silence. The long, blue twilight of the summer evening deepened, but the familiar, gentle silver that should have followed… didn't. The world waited. Crickets chirped. Fireflies blinked. But the eastern horizon remained a stark, empty black.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Clock Beyond Time
The night was quiet when Ethan Cole stood before the old grandfather clock. Its brass pendulum swung with a rhythm too perfect, too alive. He had inherited it from his great-grandfather, a man who had vanished mysteriously in 1893. For years, Ethan thought it was just a family legend. But tonight, something in the air felt different. The clock’s hands spun backward faster and faster until they stopped exactly at twelve midnight. A faint hum filled the room, the floor trembled, and without warning, the world folded like paper.
By Emma Fischer3 months ago in Fiction
