Scribbles Academy Novels & Stories

"It was until Mr. Bergins joined our Academy. Now it's past the cemetery." I frown, pulling out my map. Is she trying to trick me? "There's nothing there." "Brene, I'm not pranking you." "This says you are." I wave the paper at her. "Turn it over." I do so and find a blank page. "Nothing on this side." "No, like this." She traces her finger along the path we are on, then flips the paper over again. This time, a glowing line shows another set of buildings. "What the hell?"

The Scribble is their school's official newspaper, and she is the Editor-in-Chief. "I'll see you later after practice. I'll pick you up at the Scribble Meeting Room." Paolo stated. "You can go straight home, Paolo. The Scribble Club will have a meeting until 6pm, so we'll finish late. You don't have to wait for me." Serena suddenly suggested. "Nope. We will go home together." Paolo firmly insisted. Serena sighed helplessly after she heard him. "Paolo----" Serena was about to say something but she wasn't able to do so when Paolo puts a finger on her lips to hush her.

~sir The girl get up and walk toward us , she squat so she's on the same eye level as me "hey little girl I'm ellie , i have a pencil case full of crayons how about you and me color your daddy a pretty picture" i look up at daddy and he nods so i go with her. I sit on my own desk and she gives me the pencils and a white paper.

[Shahira's Pov – Three Months After the Hearing] The magical academy opened on a crisp autumn morning, with twelve students gathered in what had once been a storage building. Celeste stood at the front of the converted classroom, radiating enthusiasm despite her nerves. Behind her, diagrams of magical theory covered the walls—symbols, patterns, flow charts showing how different types of magic interacted. "Welcome," she said to the assembled wolves, "to the first day of what we're calling the Freedomborn Academy of Integrated Magic. Or FAIM for short, though I admit the acronym needs work."

My direct query completely leaves the assembled pack crowd exchanging wildly bewildered glances. “Rapha, what could your mouth possibly mean by that?” “Master Scott totally presides over the Supreme Painters and Calligraphers Alliance, with huge award-winning works recognized both nationally and across the borders. Amara’s incredibly eloquent commentary just totally dazzled every single alpha present in this room. How absolutely dare your unranked tongue suggest their brilliant minds lack understanding of true oil painting?”

I'm fired up, bring it on suckers! Welcome to SAGE Academy!

Adjacent to the studio is a beautiful, sunlit courtyard filled with flowers, trees, and a tranquil water feature. The science labs are state-of-the-art, with sleek, modern equipment and ample space for experimentation and exploration. Nearby, the outdoor playground and sports facilities offer ample opportunities for physical activity and recreation. Throughout the school, vibrant colors and whimsical designs create a stimulating and imaginative environment that inspires students to explore, learn, and grow. Celestia Academy is a true haven for young minds, where creativity, curiosity, and wonder know no bounds, and the pursuit of knowledge is a joyful and elevating experience.

They shared knowing glances at each other before walking into the building. "What is this place?" Nicodemus asked while he took proper view of the interior. He could pick multiple scents of Wolves and Witches,he was also certain there are Vampires in this large building. They took him to to another large room filled with couches. "This place is an Academy. The Dark Arts Academy for Witches,Vampires and Werewolves." Sabrina answered while they all sat comfortably on different couches. "Dark Arts Academy...." He muttered to himself. In a way,the name seemed to captivate him. "Why are there no rooms for Hybrids?."

Takuto Kimura lay on his nap mat, his little chubby arms sprawled out as he carefully studied his crayon work. His gaze was focused, his furrowed brow the picture of concentration. On the inside of his arm, in vivid red and yellow crayon, he had written: "Feasibility Report on the Monopoly of Sandbox Production Materials." This was not some simple toddler scribble—it was the blueprint for the next big thing. Or, at least, his next big thing. Sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting striped shadows across his round face, making him look like a zebra plotting something very, very suspicious.