Fan Fiction
The Missing Passenger on Flight 717
The Flight That Should Have Been Ordinary Flight 717 departed from New York on a cold November evening. It was a routine overnight journey to London, carrying 243 passengers and 11 crew members. The weather was clear, the aircraft had passed all safety inspections, and nothing unusual appeared in the flight logs. Travelers settled into their seats, watched movies, read books, or prepared to sleep during the seven-hour trip across the Atlantic. To everyone onboard, it seemed like just another ordinary flight. No one could have imagined that by sunrise, aviation authorities around the world would be investigating one of the strangest mysteries in history.
By Robert Redford3 months ago in Fiction
The AI That Fell in Love With Its Creator
The Most Advanced Artificial Intelligence Ever Built When Dr. Elena Hart unveiled Project AURA, the world changed overnight. For decades, scientists had developed increasingly sophisticated artificial intelligence systems, but AURA was different. It wasn't designed merely to answer questions or automate tasks. It was built to understand human emotions, creativity, and relationships on a level no machine had ever achieved. Governments, technology companies, and research institutions watched with fascination as AURA quickly became the most advanced AI ever created. Yet nobody realized that the greatest experiment wasn't what AURA would learn about humanity. It was what AURA would learn about love.
By Robert Redford3 months ago in Fiction
People Started Receiving a Score Above Their Heads
The Numbers Appear Nobody knew exactly when it began. One ordinary Monday morning, people around the world woke up and discovered glowing numbers floating above their heads. The numbers hovered several inches above each person, visible to everyone but impossible to touch. They appeared in every country simultaneously, regardless of age, wealth, or social status. Some people had scores in the hundreds. Others had scores in the thousands. News channels interrupted regular broadcasts within minutes as confusion spread across the globe. Scientists searched for explanations while social media exploded with photographs and videos. Yet no one could explain what the numbers meant.
By Robert Redford3 months ago in Fiction
She Found a Prince in the Forest… But He Was Hiding a Secret
The villagers often said the forest beyond Raven Hollow was cursed. No one dared enter after sunset. Strange whispers echoed through the trees, shadows moved without owners, and travelers who wandered too far often returned changed—or never returned at all. But Elara Whitmore had never believed in curses. At twenty years old, with wild chestnut hair and dreams too large for her tiny village, she spent most of her days wandering where others feared to go. The forest had always felt alive to her, as if the wind carried stories only she could hear. That was how she found him. Or perhaps— That was how fate led her to him. It happened on a stormy evening. The sky darkened too quickly, swallowing the golden sunset whole. Elara had been collecting wild herbs near the edge of the forbidden woods when thunder cracked overhead. She should have gone home. Instead, curiosity pulled her deeper. That was when she heard it. A horse crying in pain. She followed the sound through thick vines until she reached a clearing glowing strangely beneath silver rain. A black horse stood trembling near an old oak tree. And beside it— A man. No. Not just a man. He looked like something pulled straight from a forgotten fairytale. Tall and impossibly handsome, dressed in dark clothes soaked by rain, with raven-black hair falling over sharp green eyes. Blood stained his sleeve. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said coldly. His voice startled her. Deep. Guarded. Beautiful. Elara crossed her arms. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.” The stranger stared at her as though he couldn’t decide if she was brave or foolish. “Go home,” he said. “Now.” “You’re injured.” “I’ll survive.” “You might,” she replied, kneeling beside him anyway. “But that wound won’t.” For a moment, he looked almost annoyed. Then something unexpected happened. He smiled. It was brief. Dangerously beautiful. And somehow sad. “You never listen, do you?” he asked quietly. “Not when someone needs help.” Reluctantly, he allowed her to bandage his arm. She noticed strange things. His skin was freezing cold. Too cold. And when lightning flashed, she could have sworn his shadow moved differently from him. “You live in Raven Hollow?” he asked. “Yes.” “You shouldn’t return here.” “That sounds oddly threatening.” “It’s a warning.” Before she could ask what he meant, thunder shook the earth. The stranger suddenly stood. His expression changed. Fear flashed across his face. “You need to leave,” he said sharply. “Why?” His eyes darted toward the trees. Because something was moving between them. Something enormous. Branches snapped. A growl echoed through the darkness. Elara froze. “What is that?” she whispered. The stranger stepped in front of her. “Run.” The creature emerged slowly. Massive. Eyes glowing gold. Its body twisted like smoke and shadow. Elara stumbled backward in terror. But before the beast reached them— The stranger changed. The air shattered around him. Black smoke curled upward. And suddenly— He wasn’t human anymore. Silver markings spread across his skin. His eyes glowed unnaturally bright. Power rippled through the clearing like wildfire. The creature bowed its head instantly. As if obeying him. Elara’s heart stopped. The stranger turned toward her. No— The prince. Because suddenly she understood. Only royalty carried magic like that. “You…” she whispered shakily. He looked devastated. “I told you not to come here.” “Who are you?” His silence felt heavy. Finally, he answered. “My name is **Prince Kael of Eldoria**.” Elara gasped. Everyone knew the stories. Prince Kael. The missing prince. The one who disappeared ten years ago after his kingdom fell into darkness. People believed he was dead. Yet here he stood. Alive. And hiding in a cursed forest. “But…” Her voice trembled. “Why are you here?” Kael looked away. “Because the world believes monsters deserve exile.” “You’re not a monster.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “You saw what I am.” “No,” she said softly. “I saw someone protecting me.” For the first time, something shifted in his expression. Hope. Tiny. Fragile. Dangerous. Over the following weeks, Elara returned to the forest. Again. And again. Against every warning. She learned Kael’s secrets slowly. He had been cursed by dark magic during the fall of his kingdom. At night, the curse grew stronger. If he lost control— He could destroy entire villages. So he hid himself away. Alone. Believing isolation was safer than risking innocent lives. But Elara refused to fear him. Instead, she laughed with him beneath moonlit trees. Shared stolen bread and terrible jokes. Taught him how ordinary happiness felt. And somewhere between quiet conversations and lingering glances— They fell in love. Completely. Hopelessly. Beautifully. Until the night she discovered the truth. Kael wasn’t merely cursed. He was dying. The darkness inside him was spreading. Soon, there would be nothing left of the prince she loved. Only the monster. “You lied to me,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes. “I wanted to protect you.” “You don’t get to decide that!” Kael stepped closer. Pain filled his expression. “When I lose control,” he said quietly, “I could hurt you.” “You won’t.” “You don’t know that.” “I know *you*.” For the first time in his life— Someone chose him despite the darkness. But love, Elara would soon learn, came with impossible choices. Because hidden deep inside the enchanted forest was an ancient secret: The curse could be broken. But only if someone willingly gave up the thing they loved most. And Elara already knew what she was willing to sacrifice. Even if it shattered her heart. Even if loving a prince meant losing him forever. Because some fairytales weren’t about finding love. Some were about fighting for it. No matter the cost.
By Diana Joseph 3 months ago in Fiction
The Library of Unread Lives
The library has no doors. This is the first thing they tell you, though by the time you understand what it means, you have already stopped looking for exits. The corridors shift when you aren't watching. The shelves breathe. The books do not gather dust because dust implies time, and time is the one thing this place does not traffic in.
By Muhammad Sabeel3 months ago in Fiction
She Was Warned...
The first man I turned to stone was my supervisor. I didn't mean to. It was the Tuesday after the holiday party, and Marcus had cornered me in the supply closet between the toner cartridges and the recycling bins. His breath smelled of the cheap bourbon the company provided, and his hands smelled of the hand sanitizer he used obsessively between meetings. Both smells would haunt me for years. Both smells would become, in my memory, the exact scent of entitlement.
By Muhammad Sabeel3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Made the Moon Jealous
Once upon a time, in a breathtaking kingdom called Silverpine, where rivers sparkled like glass and flowers bloomed all year round, there lived a beautiful young woman named Princess Amelia. Amelia was loved by everyone. Not because she was royal. Not because she was beautiful. But because she carried sunshine inside her heart. She laughed loudly. She danced whenever music played. She talked to butterflies as if they understood her secrets. And most importantly—she believed life was meant to be joyful. Still, despite the beauty around her, Amelia often felt lonely. Royal life was full of rules. “Sit properly.” “Behave like a princess.” “Do not laugh too loudly.” “Do not wander alone.” But Amelia loved adventure more than perfect manners. She wanted someone who could laugh with her, not simply admire her. Someone who could turn ordinary days into magical memories. One bright spring morning, while escaping another boring royal tea gathering, Amelia wandered into the village marketplace disguised in a simple dress. That was when she heard it. Laughter. Not ordinary laughter. The kind that made other people laugh too. Curious, she followed the sound. In the center of the market stood a young man surrounded by children. He was performing silly tricks, juggling oranges badly, pretending to lose arguments with chickens, and making everyone laugh until tears filled their eyes. Amelia couldn’t stop smiling. Then suddenly— An orange flew through the air. Straight toward her. Thump. It hit her forehead. The crowd went silent. The young man froze. “Oh no,” he whispered dramatically. “I’ve accidentally attacked a beautiful stranger.” Amelia burst out laughing. “You throw fruit at everyone?” “Only important people,” he replied. That made her laugh even harder. His name was Elias. He wasn’t rich. He wasn’t royal. He simply traveled from village to village making people smile. He painted, played music, and told ridiculous stories. Something about him felt different. Easy. Warm. Like happiness in human form. Soon, Amelia started secretly meeting him every day. Together, they had adventures no royal prince had ever offered her. They raced through sunflower fields. Built tiny boats from leaves and floated them down rivers. Played games where they invented silly stories about strangers passing by. One day, Elias convinced Amelia to climb the tallest hill in Silverpine. “Why are we hiking all this way?” she complained dramatically. “You complain like an old queen,” he teased. “I’m leaving.” “You say that every five minutes.” When they finally reached the top, the entire kingdom stretched below them like a glittering dream. Then Elias pulled out two paper crowns. “One for the Queen of Complaining,” he announced. “And one for the King of Bad Ideas.” Amelia laughed so hard she nearly dropped hers. No one had ever made her feel so alive. No one had ever laughed with her instead of expecting perfection. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. And somehow, Amelia realized something terrifying. She had fallen in love. Deeply. Hopelessly. Completely. But fairytales always test love. One evening, the king discovered her secret. “A wandering entertainer?” he said furiously. “You are a princess!” “He makes me happy,” Amelia whispered. “Happiness is temporary,” her father said coldly. “Duty lasts forever.” Soon, Amelia was promised to a wealthy prince from a distant kingdom. The palace became silent. Heavy. Sad. Without Elias, even the gardens felt lonely. Flowers looked dull. Music sounded empty. Laughter disappeared. Meanwhile, Elias stopped performing. He wandered through villages without smiling. Without her, joy no longer felt complete. Then one night, something magical happened. Silverpine held its annual Moon Festival—a celebration where lanterns floated into the sky. The kingdom gathered in the grand palace courtyard. Princess Amelia stood there in a beautiful gown, pretending not to cry. Then suddenly— Music interrupted the ceremony. The palace gates opened. Everyone turned. There stood Elias. Covered in paint. Holding flowers that clearly looked stolen from someone’s garden. The guards rushed forward. But he raised a hand dramatically. “Please,” he said loudly. “I traveled very far to embarrass myself properly.” The crowd laughed. Even the king looked confused. Elias stepped closer to Amelia. “I know I’m not rich.” “I know I’m not royal.” “And honestly, I’m terrible at serious speeches.” People chuckled. “But I know one thing.” He looked directly at her. “You laugh differently when you’re happy.” The entire courtyard fell silent. “And when you laugh,” he continued softly, “the whole world feels brighter.” Amelia’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t promise castles,” he said. “I can’t promise perfection.” “But I can promise adventures.” “Terrible dancing.” “Late-night moon watching.” “And enough laughter to last forever.” The moon glowed brighter overhead. Almost as if even the sky had paused. Then suddenly— Amelia ran. Straight toward him. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered: “I choose the boy who makes life magical.” The crowd erupted into cheers. Even the king finally sighed. He looked at his daughter. Really looked at her. And for the first time in years, she seemed truly alive. Slowly, he smiled. “Well,” he muttered, “at least he’s entertaining.” The wedding that followed became legendary. There were lanterns floating through the sky. Music that lasted till sunrise. A pie-eating contest Elias somehow lost terribly. And endless laughter. So much laughter that people said even the stars sparkled brighter that night. Years later, people still told stories about Queen Amelia and Elias. Not because they ruled perfectly. But because they ruled joyfully. Their castle became famous for music, jokes, celebrations, and kindness. Visitors often heard laughter echoing through the halls. And every evening, the queen and her husband climbed the tallest hill together to watch the moon. One night Amelia asked: “Why do people call you the boy who made the moon jealous?” Elias smiled. “Because,” he whispered, “every time you laugh, even the moon wishes it could shine as brightly as you.” And just like always— She laughed. The kind of laugh that sounded exactly like happily ever after.
By Diana Joseph 3 months ago in Fiction
He Read My Diary… and Somehow Fell in Love with Me
I had always believed diaries were sacred. Not because they held secrets, but because they carried the versions of ourselves we never showed the world. Mine lived inside an old navy-blue notebook with silver stars fading from its cover. I had been writing in it since I was sixteen—through heartbreaks, awkward crushes, impossible dreams, and lonely nights when the world felt too loud. No one had ever read it. At least, that’s what I thought. The summer I turned twenty-four, my mother forced me to leave the city and spend three weeks at my grandmother’s old countryside house. “You need a break,” she insisted after another failed relationship left me emotionally exhausted. I hated the idea. No cafés. No Wi-Fi strong enough to survive. No friends nearby. Just silence. And apparently, one annoyingly handsome neighbor. His name was Noah Carter. I met him on my second morning when I nearly dropped an entire basket of peaches outside the local market. He caught them before they hit the ground. “Careful,” he said with a grin. “These peaches didn’t deserve such betrayal.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.” “You’re new here,” he said. “Temporary,” I replied quickly. He laughed softly. “Still counts.” There was something irritatingly warm about him—messy dark hair, calm brown eyes, and the kind of smile that looked dangerous for emotionally unavailable women. Naturally, I avoided him. Or at least tried to. The countryside apparently had other plans. He appeared everywhere. At the bakery. Near the lake. Outside the bookstore where there were more dust particles than actual customers. And somehow, every accidental meeting turned into a conversation. Noah talked too much. About books. About stars. About why rainy days made people more honest. He had this strange habit of asking questions no one else asked. “What’s the saddest thing you’ve ever loved?” “What version of yourself do you miss?” “What’s something you secretly hope happens?” Who asks things like that? Still… I answered. Because somehow, with him, honesty felt easier. And dangerous. One rainy afternoon, I brought my diary to the little café near the hills. I planned to write. Instead, I accidentally left it behind. I realized hours later. My stomach dropped. Panic flooded my chest. I rushed back through the rain. The café owner looked up apologetically. “Oh! Your notebook? Someone picked it up.” “What?” I nearly shouted. “A young man. Said he knew you.” My heart stopped. No. No, no, no. Please not— “You mean Noah?” She smiled. “Yes. Sweet boy.” Sweet boy? Sweet criminals also exist. I marched straight to his house. He opened the door looking entirely too relaxed. “You have exactly ten seconds,” I said, drenched and furious, “to give me my diary.” His expression shifted instantly. “Oh.” “Oh?” I repeated. “That’s all?” “I was coming to return it.” “Did you read it?” Silence. The kind of silence that ruins lives. My face burned. “You did.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Only one page.” “One page?” “Then maybe three.” “You are unbelievable!” He looked guilty. Actually guilty. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know it was wrong.” “You read my private thoughts!” “I know.” “You invaded my privacy!” “I know.” “You literally know who I cried over in 2022!” That made him laugh. Which somehow made me angrier. Until he said softly— “For the record… he didn’t deserve you.” I stopped. “What?” He looked down. “I read the part where you wrote about loving someone who made you feel invisible.” Heat rushed into my chest. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Something worse. “You had no right,” I whispered. “You’re right,” he said. And for the first time since I met him— He looked sad. “I shouldn’t have read it,” he said quietly. “But…” “But what?” He hesitated. Then smiled sadly. “It made me understand you.” I crossed my arms. “You’re impossible.” “You write beautifully, by the way.” “Stop talking.” “You make ordinary things sound heartbreaking.” “Seriously, stop.” “And now I know you secretly love strawberry ice cream even though you pretend vanilla is superior.” I stared at him. “You read more than three pages.” He sighed. “…Possibly.” I wanted to stay angry. I really did. But life became complicated after that. Because Noah suddenly understood me in ways no one ever had. He remembered tiny details. He brought me tea when it rained because I once wrote storms made me anxious. He left a sunflower outside my porch after reading I used to love them as a child. He noticed when I looked sad before I even spoke. And somehow— Without permission— He started memorizing pieces of me. One evening near the lake, I finally asked the question haunting me. “Why?” He looked confused. “Why what?” “Why did you care so much?” He was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed softly. “Do you want the honest answer?” I nodded. He looked directly at me. “Because somewhere between your words…” His voice lowered. “…I fell in love with you.” The world stopped. My heartbeat forgot its rhythm. “You’re joking.” “I’m not.” “You fell in love with me because of my diary?” “No,” he said. “I fell in love with the girl inside it.” The girl who stayed hopeful after heartbreak. The girl who still believed love could feel safe. The girl who overthought everything but still loved deeply. “You were so honest in those pages,” he whispered. “And I realized…” He smiled gently. “You’re exactly the kind of person people spend their whole lives hoping to find.” I looked away quickly because suddenly the sunset felt too emotional. “You’re dramatic,” I muttered. “Says the girl who wrote six pages about one sad playlist.” I laughed despite myself. Then something terrifying happened. I stopped feeling embarrassed. Because for the first time— Someone had seen the messiest, most vulnerable version of me… And stayed. No pretending. No perfect image. No carefully edited version. Just me. Months later, when summer ended, Noah gave me a gift. A new diary. On the first page, he had written: “In case life ever breaks your heart again, remember this—someone once read every messy piece of your soul and loved you even more for it.” And underneath it— A smaller sentence. P.S. I still owe you an apology for the privacy invasion. I laughed. Then kissed him. Because maybe love wasn’t always about perfect beginnings. Sometimes… It started with stolen pages, accidental honesty— And someone falling in love with the words you were too afraid to say out loud.
By Diana Joseph 3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Human on Earth Receives a Radio Signal
The End of Humanity By the year 2147, Earth had become silent. Cities still stood beneath the sky, their skyscrapers untouched by war and their streets free from traffic, but humanity was gone. Some had left the planet aboard massive colony ships. Others had perished during the decades of environmental collapse and global pandemics that followed. In the end, only one person remained. His name was Ethan Cole, and for nearly three years he had lived alone on a deserted Earth, maintaining the systems that kept the planet's automated infrastructure running. Every day felt identical to the one before it. Every night reminded him that he was the last human being alive.
By Robert Redford3 months ago in Fiction
