Note: These fanfics were not written to be offensive (well...only toward the characters we hate...), but please do not come after us with pitchforks and torches because we tortured your favorite character. These are meant for personal enjoyment. Thanks! ~Valerie and Vera
Valerie's Fan Fictions
Isabelle's Later Life
"My little baby is all grown up!" Sniffed Isabelle's mother, pulling Isabelle in for a sentimental hug.
"MOOOOOM! You're embarrassing me! I f you really want me to succeed at the Bolshoi Academy of Ballet then you will let me get on my flight!" Isabelle yanked herself away and rolled her eyes.
At that sudden, but not unusual, bought of anger, Isabelle turned on her heel and flounced away. Leaving her life in America and heading toward Russia
Isabelle had always been the top of all the Ballet schools in America, but it was never because of talent. All of the Ballet directors were well aware of Isabelle's father's hefty monitory contributions, and made sure Isabelle was always peaked. Isabelle never knew this, of course, but now it had led her to be accepted into the Bolshoi Academy of Ballet in Russia.
When the plane landed Isabelle rushed across the city with her pink sparkly stupid baggage towards the Academy. Isabelle's inability to ride anything but first class had made it impossible to book and earlier flight, and now Isabelle was cutting it close. She arrived at precisely 8:03 am and wrinkled her nose in disgust. the stairs leading up to the building were uneven, and the paint was cracking. She strut up the steps and almost ran into a ver tall lady.
"YOU ARE LATE!" The lady screamed, spitting the Russian words into Isabelle's dainty face.
Isabelle had only been 3 minutes late, but this was Russia, and this was Ballet.
The next days were gruesome and relentless. After years of lazy technique, Isabelle was now paying the price. She was always a beat behind, her relevé was not high enough, and her pirouettes were horrendous. She practiced each day until blood stained the inside of her en pointe shoes, but it was no use.
Isabelle then ran away. She disappeared and no one ever saw her again. She was presumed dead, but nobody cared. They were all admiring the newest, and most talented member of the Bolshoi Academy, Renata.
Jess's Later Life
Jess coughed as a cloud of dust puffed into her face. She waved away the smog and continued to delicately chisel at the mud caked rock. She heard a small crack, and, with one more tap, the rock
split open. And what was inside took Jess's breath away.
Lying, snuggled between the layers of sediment, was an ancient key with a Mayan inscription along the handle. She was dumbfounded. Could this be the lost key to the ancient Mayan temple to the sun?
Jess turned to the horizon and, in the setting sun, was the ancient temple of the Sun. The temple had laid untouched since the fall of the Mayans. Many believed the temple was cursed, but Jess was an archaeologist, and only stuck to the facts.
That night, Jess snuck out of her tent bringing only her Flashlight, and the Key... To Be Continued
Vera's Fan Fictions
Samantha's Later Life
Samantha sighed as she gazed out the window of her apartment at the dark and dreary weather. Her two daughters were playing with some homemade dolls as she took a break from doing laundry. The Depression had hit everyone across the world, and hard. Samantha's husband had been killed in the Great War, leaving her to care for the children and provide for the family. To make ends meet, she did washing for the few of New York's upper class members and sold biscuits on the streets. Her and her daughters, Corneilia and Lavender, were forced to sell their house and move in to a two bedroom apartment following the death of her husband. Grandmary's money was running out, and Samantha was beginning to stress. Laundry and biscuits were fine and dandy, but she couldn't make a full living off it. All of a sudden, she heard a shriek, and turned around.
"Mummy! Hurry!" Lavender shrieked.
To be continued...
Girl of the Year
Lanie's Later Life
"Ms. Holland, PLEASE stay focused!" the tour guide, Mr. Ron, screeched into the microphone. The other naturalists snickered. Lanie snapped to attention.
"What? I mean, uh..." she said. More giggles.
"Ms. Holland! I am starting to doubt your dedication to the mission," Ron exclaimed. Lanie's heart began to race.
"I am dedicated! I spent three months trying to apply for a spot on the mission crew!" Lanie HAD put in a lot of work to have a chance at this great opportunity. She had dreamed since she was young of touring Africa with other naturalists, cataloguing new plant and animal life, and making life-long friendships. On her resume, she realized how many things she had already accomplished; discovering a new species of butterfly, breaking the world record for number of waffles eaten in one minute, and being the American Girl of the Year in 2010. Looking back on it, perhaps her popularity that year was what caused all of her relationships to fall apart. Mr. Ron interrupted her thoughts.
"Lanie, I am truly sorry, but upon the next sight of an airport, you will be sent home. You have been too...unhelpful to this mission," he said. When those words reached her ears, Lanie threw herself off of the tour van. Everyone gasped, then shrugged, and continued on the tour. Suddenly, the cloudy African sky was lit up by a ghostly strike of lightning. The naturalists oohed and ahhed and snapped pictures. By chance, a second bolt lept from the sky, and smote down the unsuspecting Mr. Ron. Gasps could be heard for miles across the savannah as the naturalists gawked at the charred body of Mr. Ron. Somehow, Lanie had miraculously recovered from her dive off the van, and had also caught up to it. On instinct, the naturalists began worshipping her as their merciful goddess, and everyone lived happily ever after. Sort of. (There was no internet, so they all really went crazy.) The end. (Ending modified by Valerie! :D)
Isabelle's (sort of) Later Life
"I've always wanted to go to Russia to study ballet!" Isabelle squealed in that annoying voice of hers.
"Are you sure you'll be ok?" her mother asked.
"Well,...I don't have any spending money, but *sob* I'll manage," Izzy whined.
"Nonsense!" her father exclaimed, "Here's my third credit card!"
"Oh Daddy! You're too sweet!" Isabelle exclaimed.
"You'd better hurry up and go through security now, darling," her mother said, "Jade called to say she loves you."
"We love you too," her father said tenderly. The three embraced, and Isabelle skipped off to
security. She strode confidently through, placed her bags in the scanner, collected them, and headed to the atrium. Izzy sat down, and glanced at the digital screen of boarding times.
"In one hour, I'll be headed to Russia!" Isabelle said to herself excitedly. An hour of boring waiting, watching, and blowing $20 at the gift shop later, the intercom buzzed.
"Flight 666 to begin boarding. All passengers, please report to the boarding gate. Thank you," the automated voice said. Isabelle grinned, gathered up her five piece Vera Bradley luggage set, and headed to the gate.
"Miss? Hello miss?" a voice said from behind her. She jumped, and turned around.
"Who are you?" Isabelle asked.
"Head officer of airport security. You'll have to come with me," he said. Isabelle nodded, and followed him to his office.
"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the stool in front of his desk. Izzy sat.
"Mister, I'm sorry, but I REALLY need to get on that flight!" she cried.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," the security official said.
"Why ever not?" Isabelle asked.
"You're under arrest," he said.
"Why???" she yelled.
"Russia has requested you be detained before poisoning their country with your whiny privileged attitude, horrific dancing, and sparkle vomit fashions," he said calmly. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Isabelle, crying, dropped her luggage and ran. She burst through the first window she came to, never to be seen again.
"Izzy!" the guard cried, "Izzy! It was a joke!" he yelled, throwing down his cap, "I thought you would realize I was your father," he sobbed, "It's April Fool's Day."
Grace's Later Life
"Zeet is magneefek!" Grace squealed in her fake French accent. Her old frienemy, Ella, held up her new designer apron.
"May I borrow et?" Grace asked.
"Heck no. I spent MY money on an apron for ME because I need one to wear at my bakery. Don't try begging for it either, you whiny privledged brat," Ella said.
"Oh, but..." Grace started.
"Look, you're not even my friend anymore. I just thought I'd stop by and say hi since you moved in next door to me," Ella snipped, "Now...how do you say "goodbye" in French? Oh well, it doesn't matter. Hasta la vista!"
"Zat ees Spaanesh, not Francea!" Grace whined as Ella walked away. She grumbled under her breath. That apron had to be hers!
Later that night, Grace dressed in her Black Widow cosplay outfit, armed herself with a flashlight, and headed next door to Ella's house. She slunk silently out of her house. Thankfully, the widow to Ella's room was on the wall facing her own house. Grace took a deep breath and shimmied up the trellis where Ella's prize tomatoes grew, making sure to knock a few down on her way up. When she reached the window, to her horror, Ella's lights were still on. However, when Grace peered in the window, Ella was sound asleep. Grace let out a sigh of relief, and continued the plan. She kicked the window, which did effectively nothing. She punched the window. No success. Finally, she attempted to open the window the 'traditional' way. To her surprise, Ella had left the window unlocked! Grace then "gracefully" tumbled into Ella's room. To Grace's horror, Ella sat up in shock. She looked down at Grace.
"Aha!" Ella screamed, and grabbed her phone.
"Nooooo! Do not call ze pollece!"
"Sorry, not sorry, Grace. You broke into my house to steal my apron, right?"Ella said while dialing 911.
"Yeees!" Grace screamed. Ella was talking to the 911 operator in a quiet voice. Grace was oblivious to this. Ella finished talking to the operator and slowly tucked her phone away.
"Guess what Grace?" she asked.
"Whaat?" Grace sniffled.
"That apron? IT CAME FROM THE THRIFT STORE!!!!" Ella screeched.
"Whaat?" Grace moaned.
"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" A cop thundered into the room. Grace obliged. Ella turned around.
"You broke into this house and tried to perform a petty theft, yes?" the cop asked.
"Yeeees!" Grace sobbed.
"You're under arrest!" the cop yelled, and handcuffed Grace.
"Do I get a fair trial?" Grace asked, dropping the fake accent.
"That depends," the cop said, "Sorry for the inconvenience, miss," he said, looking at Ella. She smiled. With that, Grace was dragged to the police car.
"Nooooooooooo!" she yelled, all the way to the jail.
Marisol's Later Life
Marisol put on her dance sweater and skirt, gathered up her things, and headed out of the studio. It was a sunny day in Chicago, but the wind off Lake Michigan gave a crisp chill to the air. On her way home, Marisol spotted a fluffy, dirty kitten next to a storm drain.
"Aww, you poor little thing!" Marisol cooed. The kitten purred.
"You remind me of my old cat, Rascal," she told the kitten, chocking back a few tears. Her
childhood cat had been put down a few years ago due to stomach cancer. The kitten came up next to Mari and nuzzled against her leg.
"I'll take you home, ok? You sweet little fuzzball!" she exclaimed, not thinking before scooping the cat up and continuing on her way home. Marisol kept walking home with the warm little bundle of joy. After a few minutes, Mari got the feeling someone was following her. She turned around.
"Hello, I'm Blanche Palmer. I am Isabelle Palmer's mother. For her birthday, she wanted your autograph, as she thinks your one of the best dancers in all of the States," the woman said. Marisol blushed.
"I'm flattered, to say the least. I would be willing to sign something, but would she like to meet me in person?" she asked.
"Well, that's where your help would be appreciated. You see, my poor Izzy recently died in a plane crash. We've decided to collect donations to donate to a children's mental health organization,"Blanche said. NOW Mari remembered who Isabelle Palmer was.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have any money on me," Marisol fibbed. The kitten under her arm let out a soft 'meow'.
"Ooo! You pretty kitty!" Blanche exclaimed, reaching for the cat. It leaped out of Marisol's arms, scratched Blanche on her exposed leg, and scampered off. A scream came from Blanche's mouth, and she fainted. Marisol freaked out, and dialed 911.
Two hours later, Blanche Palmer was pronounced dead due to rabies, and Marisol? She became a world famous ballerina, got married, had two and a half kids, then finally died of old age at 92.
My Little Pony
"It's a filly!" the nursemare exclaimed. The estactic couple looked at their new baby for the first time.
"Her coat is so soft," her mother, Ditzy Doo, said lovingly.
"Her mane is so silky," Her father, Blueberry Muffin said adoringly. All of the sudden, the baby began to wake. The nursemare and the new parents crowded around her. She let out a tiny yawn.
"She's waking up!" Ditzy exclaimed excitedly. The foal opened her eyes, and grinned.
"My...." the nursemare said before fainting. Blues (as the father was known) recoiled in shock. Ditzy wrapped her arms protectively around her baby.
"Her eyes!" Blues yelped.
"Blues! Be nice. just because she is...different doesn't mean we won't love her! Plus, there're kind of cute," Ditzy said, defending the filly.
"But...why? What happened?" he asked worriedly. The nursemare woke up.
"Ugh...oh! I'll get the doctor!" she yelped, scurrying off. A few moments later, the doctor strode in with all of his medical equipment. About three hours of extensive testing later, the doctor had a diagnosis.
"Ditzy, remember when, oh, about three months ago when you stumbled into that patch of poison joke?" he asked.
"Yes," she responded.
"You suffered no ill effects, correct?" Doc asked in reply.
"Correct," she said.
"Well...the poison joke didn't affect you, it affected your baby," he said sorrowfully. Blues came out of the corner.
"So, this means she can be cured, right?" he asked.
"What?!" Ditzy and Blues exclaimed.
"You see, when an unborn foal comes in contact with an unborn foal, the effects are permanent. You're lucky it was just the direction of her eyes," the doctor said.
"Well, I think we have a name," Ditzy said.
"We do?" Blues asked.
"Yes. She is my little Derpy."
The Doctor and Derpy
"Derpy!" Doctor Whooves called, excitedly. He ran toward the grey mare as she turned around.
"Doctor?!" Derpy exclaimed, surprised and shocked. Derpy ran to him, and they accidentally collided in the middle.
"Oh, Doctor! Where were you?" she demanded.
"Well, the TARDIS may have taken me to an alternate dimension, and I might have seen not-really-Derpy with another stallion, and I maybe..." the Doctor started and trailed off. Derpy shut him up by kissing him on the nose.
"I missed you," she whispered.
"I missed you too," he said. At that moment, a yellow mare with a red mane stepped out of the TARDIS.
"Doctor? Who's this?" she said in a foreign accent.
"Who's THIS?!" Derpy yelped. The Doctor blushed.
"Well, Roseluck, this is Derpy. Derpy, this is Roseluck," he introduced the two mares.
"Is this the companion you were looking for when you found me?" Roseluck asked.
"YOU GOT A NEW COMPANION?!?!?!" Derpy screamed, flying up to face the Doctor, looking sheepish.
"Derpy, I'm sorry, but...I thought...," the Doctor stuttered. Derpy sighed, and kissed him again.
"'Scuse me, but I can leave if I need to..." Roseluck interrupted.
"Why that would be lovel..." Derpy began, but the Doctor shoved his hoove in her mouth.
"No, you don't have to leave! There's no Timelord rule that says I can't have two companions..." he said. Derpy sighed.
"Fine, but don't you DARE leave me in an alternate dimension ever again," Derpy grumbled and flew into the TARDIS. Roseluck smiled, and walked into the TARDIS after her. The Doctor did a quick sweep of the area to check for any other ponies, then satisfied that no one saw them, followed the two mares.