#fanwriting

[fryfur]

Reverted AU Chapter 2 has been posted!!! ^^

https://archiveofourown.org/works/82604816

Go and give it a read! I'd like to know what you guys think! ^^

[zhelin-thames]

🕯️ The Phantom Codex🕯️

In the space between heartbeats, the living and the dead whisper to one another. Their words are not spoken but echoed — soft, strange, and eternal.

Scholars of the Realms call these echoes The Phantom Codex: a collection of verses carved into stone, scattered through time, each one a record of a soul that crossed the veil — human, ghost, or something caught in between.

No one remembers who first wrote them. Perhaps they wrote themselves.

What remains are fragments: prophecies, elegies, and songs of those who lived, died, and lingered. Legends born from the rift where green light meets shadow.

This is their archive. Their hymn. Their haunting.

— The first verse belongs to the boy who walks between.

A Danny Phantom poetry series :)

[witchfromthefactory]

Headcanon: The Lords on Board

Alcina treats airplanes the same way she treats any other kind of transport — by weighing pros and cons. The pros are obvious: a chance to lounge in a wide business-class seat, an eager steward swiftly setting up her footstool so she can lean back comfortably.

Even so, her Rubensian forms still find the space a tad tight, but the view from the window, a glass of fresh blood in hand, and a plate of dripping blue rare steak makes the flight hours glide by.

Her daughters are sitting together somewhere behind her, bickering over which movie to watch, trying to sync it on their individual screens, and holding a mini-competition: which one of them can catch the cute steward’s attention first. The key here is not to get too loud — if they will cross Alcina, the next flight might be spent in the cargo hold.

~

Donna views on airplanes are purely practical. To her, it is fast, convenient, and statistically the safest form of travel. She chooses the very first row in economy, so Angie can settle comfortably next to her. During the flight, Angie behaves like a tiny, unstoppable force of chaos — pestering stewards with endless questions and demands for water, snacks, and a coloring book, asking how to turn on cartoons, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt long before the plane has reached cruising altitude…

By the time the plane lands, Donna feels utterly drained. Angie drags her down the aisle, reaches for the overhead bins, tries to open the emergency exit, sends the surrounding passengers into sheer panic, and hops impatiently near the exit as soon as the wheels touch down.

~

Moreau prefers the middle rows of economy, buying both the aisle seat and the one beside it. If the second seat happens to be by the window and the weather is clear, he marvels at the mountains, forests, and fields sliding by below.

For lunch, he always chooses fish and often requests an extra cup of tea or even two if he fancies a little extra. When he grows weary of the view, he dozes happily, though he might watch a film if something that sparks his interest. To him, a plane is no different from a carriage, a car, or a ship — just another way to travel.

~

Heisenberg isn’t afraid of heights. He isn’t afraid of flying. In fact, he’s fascinated by airplanes as a feat of engineering and someday he dreams to build one with his own hands.

But to sit inside a hunk of metal assembled by who-knows-whom? What if the engineer miscalculated the thickness of a plate? Or the factory, producing the bolts, churned out a bunch of faulty ones? What if the worker half-assed the last couple of screws?

And don’t even get him started on the pilot — for that person Karl has quite a list as well.

If he could, he would personally check the entire plane, down to the very last screw, before boarding. Since he cannot, he picks a window seat just behind the wing, keeping a sharp eye on it during the flight. He brings a stack of books, a notebook for his ideas and plans, and his old cassette player, but ends up white-knuckling the armrests and glaring out the window.

He only loosens up during the meal service, always demanding a generous pour of beer if it’s on offer.

Despite knowing that he could, with a certain level of effort, hold a failing aircraft together long enough to crash-land instead of plummet, the lack of control makes every flight a nightmare for him.

[inhumanforbat3]

I don’t know if anyone is waiting for this fic, but I just want to say: it’s coming.

I still need to revise the English (it’s not my first language) and make sure the plot is coherent, but it’ll be ready soon — at least the first chapter.

[zosanflashzine]

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[dreamingwithmyadhd]

Dark Eyes (Howl Jenkins-Pendragon x Dark Eyed reader)

Howl casually strolled the streets of the town he was in that he could not recall the name of for the sake of his life. He thought to himself that quite frankly if he were to be asked, he would simply ignore the request and stroll along.

Now, he was known as a womanizer in almost every town except for the few he blackened his name in, telling poor villagers or citizens that he stole and ate the hearts of those he deemed beautiful. It struck fear in the over-pompous and gave relief to those who lacked the confidence to believe they were beautiful. He would eat his own heart if he hadn't given it to Calcifer.

Howl was jolted from his thoughts when a slight bump alerted him someone was near. It was you, rushing from the market to the dressmakers to the fabric makers, doing tasks on your day off to earn extra money.

Howl felt his nonexistent heart pang. While your features were somewhat unique for the area, your eyes struck Howl and made his leg buckle. They were a dark colour, a unique one to find in the town. streaks of light filtered through your errand hat and illuminated the colour of your eyes, making Howl's mouth water and his arms feel heavy.

Why were your eyes so captivating? Howl wondered as he wandered and you scampered off to continue your tasks. In a district that favored light features, your bold ones made him think of his own overly effeminate features, like his jewelry or his preference for flowey clothes. And who was he to deny that he looked good in high waisted pants?

You captivated his mind when he returned to his castle, you strangled his head with your features when he went to bed and you were his first thought in the morning. He didn't want to find you attractive. He didn't want to actually want to pursue you, maybe if he did you or he would lose interest before anything really happened. And yet he heard his fork clatter to the ground as he thought of what you might look in a nightgown, a dancing gown, maybe even wear his Rugby apparel and invite you to wear pants in his castle if you visited. As Howl overlooked his family in Wales through his bedroom window, He thought of his sister and how she had a husband and two children. He thought of Michael possibly getting along with you, and odd domestic thoughts filled his head. Heading into town again he prayed he would see your face again so he could take a better look at those eyes. Maybe in the sunlight of midday or maybe in the pinks and purples of dusk, or maybe he can admire the darkness of them as they become most bold against your white scleras during night.

[tylejandro]

If the TF2 mercs were on Total Drama Island, I think this would be the elimination order:

Scout's gone first. It's almost unanimous, only Heavy and Engie tolerate him.

Soldier's loud and annoying too. Engie, Demo and Pyro like him but it's not enough.

Medic's flown under the radar until now but his love for messing with peoples' organs can't be ignored forever, he's out third.

Sniper pisses in jars and kinda hates everybody. Needless to say he's not winning a popularity contest. Maybe he votes himself out.

Engie's friendly -- too friendly... Spy conspires and gets a couple of the other guys to vote him off. This is where the EngieSpy ship fuel ends after building them up for several episodes but that's just me. Spy may have tried to bring Sniper on his side last time but that epically failed.

Demo and Pyro are upset to see Engie go after all, thinking about it, or maybe this was their plan all along, and Spy's out next.

The three left are all kind of floaters and like each other, so the Administrator makes Pyro and Heavy duke it out. I'll let Heavy win just this once, and it creates some tension between them since Demo liked Pyro more than he likes Heavy.

Who wins is up to you, but let me set the record straight: it's a bloodbath. Total bloodbath. People die. Demo wins in Scotland obviously.

[ribz4liverz]

A pizza doxing or a trip to the dumpster would have been so much better than this...

I am finally trying to be more comfortable sharing my writing with the general public! This is supposed to function as a small introduction to Madeline and the events leading up to her kidnapping just before where TPOF takes place. It isn't very long but depending on the reception, I do want to try my hand and writing more about her and potentially Derek (once I get over my cringe hurdles).

I hope you guys enjoy. 💖

This post contains writing! If you would like to read, please click on the "Keep Reading" below!

Madeline/content belongs to myself (ribz4livers)

TPOF belongs to @/gatobob

Word count: below 1000

🔞 MINORS DNI! 🔞 This includes AGELESS BLOGS! Failure to comply will result in a BLOCK.

“Alright guys! You know the drill, let me know what you think in the comments below or–” the girl on the screen flashes a small but toothy smile, “if you’re watching this live, blow that chat box up! I’ll see you later for my next scheduled live and trust me, you won’t want to miss it!" She held up a hand and gifted a small wave, “Bye-bye and keep yourselves safe!” Cut. That’s a wrap. Madeline leaned over her keyboard, hitting the button on her microphone to end the live audio before quickly doing the same with her webcam, cutting the hundreds of eyeballs ogling her from the shadows of the internet. She sighed, clicking her mouse and scrolling through the chat feed, reading people’s reactions to her most recent stream. “This was disgusting”, “is she actually serious?”, “troll”, etc… There were a few people singing their praises, applauding Madeline for her attention to detail when talking about the Top 5 Most Gruesome Serial Killers of Our Time!!! but she knew they were just knights in shining armor trying to get the attention of their queen. There was no research in these videos; a quick visit to any online encyclopedia and there was all the information she needed. Copy, past, action.

Even with so many people watching her when she hit that “go live” button on her screen, once she ended that stream that was it; no eyes, no reeling chat, just nothing; just her staring back at the wolfish girl in the viewfinder on her screen, all alone. Leaning back in her chair, Madeline again sighed. The reactions she got were good but were they good enough to get the attention of the reaction channels? After her last controversy, rating victims’ outfits, she really needed to step it up a notch if she wanted to keep the notoriety.  “Maybe…Dateable Delinquents? No…too easy…” Madeline muttered to herself, grabbing her phone. She checked her texts. It had been over 6 hours since she had last looked at her phone anyway, right? Something had to be there by now.

“Tch…” Madeline clicked her tongue as there were no texts from anyone. Oh well, in the meantime she could go for a dose of fresh air. Maybe visit that cute café down the road and get ahead on her next script or finally start on that essay she had due today before midnight.

Making her way to the vanity, Madeline kicked a medium sized box out of the way, the useless artifacts from a time past rattling around and hopefully breaking in the process. She glanced at the box as she passed, taking note of the neatly written address on one of its half opened flaps. Clearly a woman's writing. She would have to make a trip to the apartment dumpster soon, what a fucking pain.

Once sat in front of the vanity mirror, Madeline began touching up her appearance. She already had her makeup done, never appearing on streams or videos without it, but it couldn't hurt to fix her hair and adjust her outfit in accordance with today's weather: drab and weary. 

Just her and the girl in the mirror now. Her eyes were too yellow, her ears too tall, nails too thick and teeth far too sharp. Madeline flashed a smile at the glass but shame pricked her lips before they stretched too far. Well behaved girls don't bare fangs.

She began to brush her hair carefully, taking extra care to give it that desired, signature flip she was known for–at least if she had people who knew her–and for a moment thought about a time when her hair was much longer, harder to style; no, it wasn't that it was harder to style but that she wasn't allowed to style. Once again Madeline thought about that box sitting only a few feet behind her. Impulsively grabbing her phone again Madeline opened the screen. Still nothing. The phone made a loud clack as she set it back down on the table with a little more force than before and continued her grooming.

Madeline was lost in teeth, boxes, scripts but was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a door, her door, getting softly knocked. It wasn't expected but it wasn't unwelcome either. Maybe it was one of those pizza doxings she had heard so much about from her time lurking on the internet farms. The thought of someone going through all that effort just to send her a free lunch made the girl smile, fangs poking over her elongated lips. How sad were these keyboard warriors? 

Another knock.

Madeline got up, doing a once over in the mirror and began making her way to the door, all smiles, "hold on, I'm coming."

Silence.

Without checking the peep hole, Madeline opened the door wide but her giddy expression clouded once she saw there was in fact no pizza, only two large bodies dressed in dark colors and obscured faces.

"Hi…Madeline?" One of them asked in a voice that sounded fake, filtered and suspicious.

There was no time for her body much less her mind to react. There was no sixth sense, no hair standing on edge and no words; and apparently these people needed no answer. Before Madeline could utter a word, she felt something pressed to her mouth, a cloth, and next there was only black–

A pizza doxing or a trip to the dumpster would have been so much better than this.