fantasy

Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.

The Fae in San Francisco
The last minute passengers scooted into the train just as the doors whisked closed with a puff of air. A blonde in earth and mud tones, no makeup, hair in a bun and an oversized tote bag obviously loaded with textbooks quickly took a seat, as did the dreadlocked freckled and blue-eyed boy in the tie-dyed tank top and painter pants. The lithe black man in dancer’s tights and hand-painted T-shirt remained standing, so he could move to the music from his headphones, swaying as the train lurched forward and rocked from side to side on the tracks. He just barely held on to the bar overhead, using it for balance and letting his legs do the rest of the job of keeping him in one spot. He made it look easy.
By Kim Slone6 years ago in Futurism
The Clockmaker
The Clockmaker In the faraway kingdom of Tempus, there lived a young clockmaker named Simon. He filled his shop with wondrous clocks, watches, and other magnificent timepieces to dazzle the mind. Every day you could find him in the back of his shop, tinkering away on his newest project, utterly unaware of how little business he had. Occasionally, someone from the city would come in and have him fix a clock, but those times were few.
By Matthew Angelo6 years ago in Futurism
The Dyrad's Story
~in the beginning~ For what felt like eternity she stood by these banks, tall and strong; holding strong before any wind or storm that came her way. She was not just a mere weeping willow, after all. She was a dryad, and she was in love.
By Sky Boivin6 years ago in Futurism
Ode to Wings
~chapter 1~ ~Memories~ “Come around the fire,” the Queen Faye waves as all approaches nearby, as she pulls the hood of her cloak more over her head. “And I shall share you a story. One of glory, sadness, and joys. One of honor and woes,” the fire glows bright as she begins to whisper her tale of the great warrior once known as wings.
By Sky Boivin6 years ago in Futurism
Cicatrice
He took the cup of hot tea the old man offered him gratefully, hoping only to shake the chill from his bones as he drank. He had covered forty miles on foot that day, and had trudged the last seven through gathering mist as the late October day settled into dusk. The old man’s hut had been a welcome sight, finally, as the warm light from the window reached through the fog to beckon him. He decided to accept the old man’s offer of hospitality. It never occurred to him to question the willingness of a vulnerable old man to accept a stranger under his roof for the night – and without references, at that!
By Kim Slone6 years ago in Futurism
Telum Ep. 2
Chapter 2 My senses began to come back. How long was I out? I tried to look around, but the room seemed blurry and out of focus. There were bright lights. Did I get taken to the nurse’s office? Was I that far gone? I tried to focus. I could make out people in white, and I was lying on a bed. Am I in the hospital? I rubbed my eyes. Slowly the world came into better focus.
By Kat Jadzia6 years ago in Futurism
SADDLEBAGS, Trunks, and Tombs
Chapter 9 For some reason I felt like the old man and I were headed on a journey of some sort. I was meant to see this story, meant to write it down and he unfortunately was meant to walk. There was no longer any panic over the changing window. Over the next year I would find that I looked forward to it.
By Mia J. Mitchell6 years ago in Futurism
After The End
Like colors giving life to art, the memories painted a life for September that she had forgotten. Lines became images that became life, a life that she had lived and left behind. The pain and hatred she had abandoned came to greet her. It wrapped itself around her until she absorbed it all. The anguish she felt learning that her partner had been captured. The fear she hid away at the thought of death. The pain she endured as she watched him suffer. The anger she used to get to King Cassander and kill him. Then with out warning it had all been stripped away from her. She had been given a new name and a new life. The memories stored away until she would be needed again.
By Evan Morones6 years ago in Futurism
The eulogy of the bastard bear
A primitive hunter walks through the forest as glimmers of sunset guided by leaves through the treetop canopy light his way like embers are guided by the campfire. As a nearby river rages, creating a gentle murmur, the hunter listens as robins and cardinals in the canopy tune their songs to it. The hunter carries nothing but clothes made from animal hides, a spear with which he catches his meals. And his next meal, a rabbit he caught earlier that day but hadn’t prepared to cook yet. He examines the forest floor for evidence of more animal life. As he's tracking he notices the footprints of a bear. The primitive man understands this and readies his spear.
By Giraffe Tamer6 years ago in Futurism
Unordinary
The next morning, I got ready for school. I ate breakfast and then went out and waited for the bus. When it came, I sat in the front behind the bus driver. I didn't see Sai on the bus, either. When I arrived at school, I noticed that the High school was big and colorful. The school was very diverse, and had a lot of people. I went straight into the office to get my schedule. When I walked out, I ran into Sai by the lockers talking to his friends. "Oh hey, Bonnie," He said. He turned his head to his friends saying,"I'll see you guys later, I'm going to show the new girl around." They all gave him a smirk and walked away. I showed him my schedule and he said, "You have Mr. Heckerman's class first. I had him last year. He's an okay teacher, but try not to get on his bad side. He easily gets mad. Oh, and we both have fifth period together."
By Arrianna Allen6 years ago in Futurism
Unicorns!!!!
Unicorns Unicorns are everywhere, in the form of Toys, Bags, Makeup, Movies, Books, Wigs and I can go on all day. I don’t think that you can go anywhere today without seeing a Unicorn.
By Charmaine van der Merwe6 years ago in Futurism
What is a Wizard?
Thanks to the Harry Potter series, and other works of more modern fantasy like the Dresden Files, wizards have become cool again. Though they were once relegated to the pages of dime novel fantasy and Dungeons and Dragons role playing books, or found only as supporting cast members in old fairy tales and myths, today's wizards have shaved off their beards, hit the gym, and become powerful protectors of humanity in modern fiction. The re-imagining has led a lot of fans to question why wizards were always learned old gray beards with a penchant for philosophy, though. Is it just a stereotype that was built upon cultural touchstones, or was there something more to it?
By Neal Litherland6 years ago in Futurism