Fan Fiction
The Sleeping Beauty
We're all familiar with this tale, are we not? Anyone who has seen the Disney version should be. Have you ever wondered for a moment if, perhaps, Disney got it wrong? Of course, for anyone who knows the "true" story of many a Grimm's Fairytale, that answer is a resounding yes... but suppose that the Brothers Grimm also got it wrong? Consider this, if you will, an account of "what if...?".
By Natalie Gray3 years ago in Fiction
The Marvelous Rendell and Bob
Rendell was an enormous maroon colored talking dragon with blue, red and yellow spotted eyes and enormous jagged green and red colored scales. Rendell lived deep within a cave with many tunnels and a small stream running down the center of its largest stony path. This not only gave the cave its wonderful petrichor smell, but the water pooled up at the end of the corridor making a convenient bath. The pooled water was usually warm from natural steam vents beneath, but sometimes rose to boiling temperatures. The steam caused water to bead up and eventually grow stalactites and stalagmites. The cave’s complicated burrows were an unsolvable maze to humans, keeping Rendell safe. Rendell had been living there long enough to know where every passageway led.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Spiro
I could sense her at the start of it all, before I knew of anything else. She was kind and full of hope. I could tell her soul was pure and true. I felt safe in the presence. There was another I could sense too, he was like me. He too was new to everything and this existence we both shared. I was not yet ready to see more and neither was he.
By Abigail Spring3 years ago in Fiction
A Dragon's Heart
It was a dark and stormy night. The kind of night where the wind howls and the trees bend as if they might break. The dragon had been walking through the forest for hours, searching for something to eat. He had been feeling restless and irritable lately, and no matter how much he flew or hunted, he couldn't shake the feeling. As he walked, his sharp eyes scanned the trees for any sign of movement.
By Kabinga Charline Mazaba3 years ago in Fiction
Bob was Right!
He had been thinking long and hard about his retirement plan. His life just isn't working for him anymore. He wasn't much to look, but he a very kind man. In fact, so kind that he and the battle-axe he calls his women didn't get along much. Every day while making breafkast he says his mantra:
By Susan Eileen 3 years ago in Fiction
Agency of the 5th World Head Mission 6 Aftermath: Linda's Requiem (Remix Version) Part 2: Preparations
Previous Mission First Mission <I do not own Pokémon, Roblox, Club Penguin, or Super Smash Bros. Pokémon belongs to Game Freak, Nintendo, and the Pokémon Company. Roblox belongs to the Roblox Corporation along with any other character ownership rights. Club Penguin belongs to Disney. Super Smash Bros. belongs to Nintendo along with any other character ownership rights.>
By Jeremiah Ellison3 years ago in Fiction
MR.Violence: The HitchHiker
Five Days Ago. Raphael Jameson aka MR. Violence is an honorable Vietnam Veteran who is considered a hero with multiple awards and honors had become a professor at Victoria College in Victoria, Texas enjoying teaching young minds about Psychology and English Literature until A Series of brutal murders around campus. Raphael was recruited by a Texas Detective who was impressed by his Vietnam record to help track down the killer and also profile him.
By Victor Robinson II3 years ago in Fiction
Spaghetti Family part 13, not real, a spare
“No!” I collapse on the steering wheel, sobbing. “Not Robin! You can’t—can’t take him from us… from me!” I bang my fists over and over again near the dashboard and wheel and hurt my hands, producing raw and slightly bleeding skin on my knuckles. “Damnit!”
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
I see the Queen
As I feel my final days approach, I can not help but think of my first days. How is it that all of the journeys of my years have brought me to this point? My mind has brought myself and many, through the whims of God's pen, making marks on the pages to distract from the world's problems, and create stories to satisfy all senses. My body, however, has taken the ship straight to the fragility of a vase, feeling the cracks, as time races on. It's as if months turned to minutes, and this pain has shifted moments into decades. My only peace, it seems, is to recollect the times, not of comfort, but of wonder. To the time before I realized the connection between dusk and dawn.
By cole jackson 3 years ago in Fiction
