fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
Arrows and Roses - Chapter 2
“Than the Man! I see you’re still rockin’ the suits.” Apollo winked, causing Thanatos to clear his throat and adjust his tie. I guess he still didn’t know how to respond to Apollo’s flirting. I don’t blame him, most women swoon, and I do know for a fact that some of them have even fainted.
By The Water Lily7 years ago in Futurism
Arrows and Roses - Chapter 1
It all starts when a daughter of Eros realises she wants what her parents have. Chapter 1 Eros. The god of love. Son of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, passion, and beauty. A lot of people believed that, for the longest time, Eros was a cherub, a winged baby with a bow and arrow. He never bothered to dispute it. So for centuries, my father was imagined as a small baby flying over people and aiming heart tipped arrows at everyone.
By The Water Lily7 years ago in Futurism
The Rover Prince
Let me tell you a story, a story about a prince who was a rover, and a princess who did not know she was a princess. Now I hear the question asked, "How can this be, a princess being unaware of being a princess?" The answer lies in the midst of a war that lasted a thousand years.
By Jeremy Cavenagh7 years ago in Futurism
Buffalo Woman
In a short fall before a long winter, there was a Red Buffalo Woman who came up lame. Day after day she pushed herself to keep pace with the herd, growing weaker with every step, so that by the time they reached the great river, she had lost most of her strength. With too much exhaustion to pay mind to her steps, she misplaced her hind leg, sinking past the hock into a deep mud hole along the river bank. She struggled to free herself with no result, and eventually her herd was forced to move on, leaving her behind.
By Christy Jordan-Fenton7 years ago in Futurism
Crossing Oceans
She stared across the expanse of the sea. It seemed to go on and on forever, unending. As the waves pulled back and forth, back and forth, her feet sank deeper and deeper into the sand at the edge of the shore. The soaking wet sand seemed to be so strong, there would be no pulling her feet out; a reminder of the bondage this child was under.
By Kenna Carlson7 years ago in Futurism
Unsettled Past (Ch. 1)
There is a place, on a bay, where the red tiled roofs slope gently down to the sea, a place where men go down and ply their trades as they have for thousands of years. It is a place where palm trees sway gently in the breeze, and birds sing their songs of love, and romance stirs the air. In this place, women and men go about their daily lives without the slightest idea of events beyond the borders of their land. In this place where Jasmine scents the air, and smell-by-night trees blast the unsuspecting evening with their scents, I have made my home. I found a wife, a lovely dark skinned woman, with moonlight glinting in her eyes, and my past I tried to forget.
By Jeremy Cavenagh7 years ago in Futurism
The End Is Near
I am completely mad, at least there is a strong possibility that I am; for reality could in no way be as warped as I see it. Perhaps I had best explain though, for mad men are rarely lucid enough to realize their sanity has slipped, and I have just stated that I theorize that mine, too, has slipped.
By Jeremy Cavenagh7 years ago in Futurism
A Dutiful Person Disobeys
Characters: Tusra and Anastra. Tusra is once again stood outside the doors to the great hall where the King and Queen are sat. Twisting the fabric of his gloves he stood with nerves like cracked ice. It had only been a day and a half since he and the Queen came between a furious King and his daughter.
By . Durzarina .7 years ago in Futurism
She Believed She Could, So She Did...
"You know, you're practically drooling, right?" Marlow said with amusement as she watched her friend, Astrid, stare down with bright, excited eyes at the book she had brought from her grandpa's collection as though the book was the Grimoire, also known as a “book of spells.”
By Ziora Zora7 years ago in Futurism
The Dreamer
She always knew she was different from everyone else. People around her were automatically set to move away even when all she did was enter a room full of people. The conversations would turn subdued, and everyone would steal furtive glances at her. She didn't think she was all that special or noteworthy, but apparently, everyone around her thought she was. She had developed an appreciation for what the women in Salem during the Witch Trials must have felt like. Not that she was a witch.
By Dana Garrett7 years ago in Futurism
