Fan Fiction
Trollhunters: The Descend into Ragnarök
Breathing heavy, Ashka quickly grabbed her items or at least what’s left of them, “Did they fucking tear up my bag? How did even get in the locker?!” Looking at what used to be her black canvas bag now a pile of shredded fabric, “Did they use a knife or let an animal destroy it? Fuck this. Fuck all of this! I should’ve stayed in that god damn alleyway…AGGHHHH!” Slamming her fists into the metal repeatedly until they left a dent, a sharp radiating pain shocked her back to reality causing her to drop down to the floor. Softly whimpering for a few minutes, she got up and gathered herself and what was left of her dignity.
By The Bobcat Witch5 years ago in Fiction
Trollhunters: The Decent into Ragnarök
There’s this place no one knows about. A place that no one will ever comprehend; but dear God help them if they ever do. Where the line between light and dark, right, and wrong, good and evil blurs into grey; where chaos reigns.
By The Bobcat Witch5 years ago in Fiction
Marigolds In My Garden
Marigolds In My Garden Every summer my father would plant marigolds in a brick rectangular planter that he made by himself when we first moved into our home in the 70s. Every summer I would go outside and play with my sister, lay in the sun, take a swim in my neighbor’s pool, walk in the woods, and return to the planter that was filled with golden marigolds where I would rest.
By Alan Bryce Grossman5 years ago in Fiction
The Diary of Bellatrix Black - June 1968
***1 June 1968, Hogwarts*** There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort. Last night was the slug’s last dinner party of the school year. I wore a pink dress that Mother bought for me last time she was in Paris. I let it stay pink this time.
By Deanna Cassidy5 years ago in Fiction
The Diary of Bellatrix Black - May 1968
***1 May 1968, Hogsmeade*** There is a perfect wizard, and his name is Lord Voldemort. What an awful day. I woke to the sound of the door opening suddenly and angry footsteps approaching my bed. The phrase, “Magical law enforcement!” sprang to mind. I reached for my wand on the bedside table, but a woman’s hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled, jerking me out of bed unarmed. She slapped me.
By Deanna Cassidy5 years ago in Fiction
CHRISTMAS JUST AIN'T CHRISTMAS
CHRISTMAS WITHOUT THE MARIGOLD I don’t have to tell you, we are still currently experiencing a grim milestone in history, dealing with the trials and tribulations of the Covid-19 pandemic; over half of a million Americans are dead, and the virus is still raging with the new delta version. These are dark times and we’re headed straight into another covid Christmas Season.
By Fabian Ellis5 years ago in Fiction
The Diary of Bellatrix Black - February 1968
***1 February 1968, Hogwarts*** Cold and windy. It couldn’t have been Helena. Dumbledore interrogated her yesterday morning. She and her collection of romance novels disappeared from the library before lunchtime. When Leonard walked me back from my detention to the Slytherin common room, he said that at dinner, Professor Dippet introduced a thin, severe-looking young witch as the new librarian, Madam Irma Pince.
By Deanna Cassidy5 years ago in Fiction
THE ONLY TIME I LOST MY PREY
I have no friends. I can be social, just don’t bother my prey. As a matter of fact, if I were a human, I’d be considered a sociopath. My bite is deadly, and I don’t care about the blood. As a matter of fact, I love the smell of blood. I even love the way it tastes. I don’t care if you’re not bothering me. I bother you. During feeding time, the whole ocean around me colors itself red. I’m used to it. I’m probably as old as dirt, but I have a big belly to fill, so cut me break. I don’t expect you to imagine me second guessing my food. “It is what it is.” I’m mean, I’m big, I’m grey and that’s the way I like to keep it.
By Beautiful Intelligence5 years ago in Fiction
Jabber Jaw, Then and Now
This is a tale of stardom and downfall, of addiction and recovery, of violence and redemption. This is the story of everyone’s favorite drum playing, shapeshifting, great white shark, Jabber Jaw. Jabber Jaw’s climb to success was simple, he was one of very few talking sharks during a period when talking sharks were in high demand. The shark craze of the 1970s was every talking shark’s dream. He was invited to Hollywood parties before he even had an agent and landed some well-paying modeling work in the early 1970s. He started playing drums in his friend Clamhead’s band, The Neptunes, and the group achieved a superabundance of success.
By Jeffrey Myles5 years ago in Fiction
To Whom It May Concern
To whom it may concern, If you are reading this letter, you may either be surprised, angry, or not reading this letter for very long. To the media all I’m ever known as is a goon or a henchman, or worse, a “Rubberband”, thanks to that pseudo-hero Gold Guardian. I have a name and it is Samuel White, not that any of you ever cared to ask. I don’t really blame you, though. I know my own choices put me here and I have no one to blame but myself, especially for having some hope that I could find help while I was drowning in my mistakes.
By Pseudo Nym5 years ago in Fiction
