#╼╼ fic :: the painting ╼╼

[skyrigel]

Simon who just can't say no to you.

It has been like this from the moment his eyes met yours, a very terrible Monday morning if he hadn't met you but now that you remembered, it's the most beautiful day of both of your lives.

“Is that seat taken ?” Simon looked up at the small morning roused and still sleep laden voice, you were as knackered as you sounded, probably runnin’ on black coffee and cuppa noodles.

“Yeah.” He wasn't even aware how quickly he said it, “Yes, ofcourse miss.”

He scooted his big thighs together, trying to make as much space as possible for you and as if some divine thought struck him, he looked up — cheeks tinting with red.

“Would ya’ like window ?”

“No, But thankyou for asking.” You answered, sitting next to him and making sure to leave some space because those legs were thick and definitely his big cock needed some room.

Fuck, look away —

“Ghost...” Another man climbed inside bus, his eyes trained on you and your partner who's apparently Ghost ?!?!

“Wot ?” He said roughly, his shoulders pressed against yours

“Nothin’ old man.” The other man smirked and sat next to a Grandma who knitted half a sweater.

“Your friend?” You asked.

“ A little...Simon.” He said, “Simon Riley.”

“Oh.” You smiled, feeling blush creep up your neck and cheeks.“I like Ghost better.” you would've booed if you weren't feeling so tingly and nervy.

“You would like Simon more.”

“I would like that.” You couldn't believe you were flirting on a Monday morning.

One month later

“Ghost...” John horribly snorted, sprawling on couch as Simon paid him no attention.

“Wot ?” He asked, giving you his pinky as you painted the last letter ‘Y’ over hot pink nail polish, completing your H-E-L-L-O K-I-T-T-Y nail art, every letter on each nail.

“Nothin’ old man.” John smirked as you clicked your tongue, beaming up at Simon.

“Done !” You blew air and flashed a grin as Simon brought his hand up to examine your work.

“Done Luvie.” He smiled, bumping your nose with ‘I’ on his nail.

And you also liked Simon better.

Grim Reaper! Simon

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[glorfy-the-bright-haired-ellon]

“This isn’t courage, Jayce. This is cowardice.”

“Okay. Maybe. So what?” Jayce says, voice fraying. “I’m scared.”

The Saved and the Damned by Lapsi has had me in its grip for nigh on a MONTH!!

[themissingmango]

[pjs-everyday]

(You make me wanna) Go dancing (You make me wanna) Try on feminine (You make me wanna) Go buy a new dress (You make me wanna) Slip off a new dress – Juna by Clairo

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Scarred For Half A Life ~

First of all, I am never doing this style again—I think. I was trying out something new, even when this wasn’t planned first!

Anyway, I was working on this piece, when something shot through my mind. Yeah, that scar. And I began to write a story—Of course I did.

(Sketch of this one is lurking on the bottom of this post, lol)

The story is called Scarred For Half A Life.

Why this title? Well. Because Danny is half human—alive, and half ghost—dead. Instead of ‘Scarred for life’. Bad joke, I know.

Published first two chapters here.

———————

Genre: Angst/Pain And Comfort (and a little Horror)

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content

Rating: M

———————

Summary:

Danny had been captured by the GiW once again, or so he thinks. Leaving him feeling utterly helpless—vulnerable. There was nothing he could do. What will happen to him? And why again?

Spoiler:

Was he here—there? Trapped in some forbidden wasteland in the middle of a desolate desert? He couldn’t even remember how he had ended up in this place. His mind scrambled for answers, but nothing came. What had happened? Back home… did he even still have a home? Or was this lifeless prison now his new reality? How long had he already been here? Days? Weeks?

His mind grew hazy, a dense fog clouding his thoughts and erasing his memories, one by one, as they slipped into the unreachable corners of his mind. He fought desperately to stay conscious, clinging to the faint hope that this was nothing more than a terrible dream—a nightmare he might eventually wake from. But the fight was slipping from his grasp. His body was too weak, his strength utterly spent. The darkness pressed in, heavy and unrelenting, until he couldn’t hold on any longer. With a final, defeated breath, he surrendered to the pitch-black void—a hollow, empty space that led to… nothing.

———————

Sketch of Danny. When he would be 17 years old, maybe? I don’t know.

He looks tired. I am aware.

[demaparbat-hp]

Imperfect Canvass

Read on AO3.

It's easy to forget, there, in Caldera. So they do everything in their power to remember. . The Blue Spirit and the Painted Ghost meet in the city each night, two souls in eternal search for repentance. Katara tries to find a way to kill the war, whatever it takes. Zuko, the Perfect Prince, offers her the only pieces of him that remain.

[doesephs]

daddy issues walked to silco could run a drug empire

[rayactive-factory]

fanart for @teamxdark!! based on the descriptions from this story, i loved the outfit designs and white-silver and black-golden colours for them so much <3

[goddessofbees]

Each of the siblings having to incubate their sibs/now children, I wanted to draw a what if with each of the Dannies. Kinda like bad Fenton parents and the end result is that the other two end up in their cores and need to be incubated and are now being raised by the parent/incubator, in this scenario Jazz also doesn't make it out alive.

Dan (24) with Babies Danny and Dani (7m)

Dani (19) with toddlers Dan and Danny (2)

Danny (21) with toddler Dan (2) and baby Dani (4m)

Edit: here's a post explaining the jewelry

[mangozic]

My part for this year’s @invisobang !

A short comic for chapter 7 of @mercury-lurks ‘s incredible fic To Remember Death, Remember Life !

[theimpurelily]

So I was rereading chapter 37 of Shen Yuan of No Relation by @grubus and I realized something. SQQ did exactly what YQY threatened to do years ago and then some.

What an over achiever.

[almondcroissantsandink]

something soft based on this fic by @hero-in-waiting because I spent like a week reading it, saw a good pose reference on Pinterest, and promptly blacked out

[pritong-baboy]

Shockwave looms over him, silent as he picks Bumblebee up into his arms and stares at the limp mech. “See what you made me do, Bumblebee?” He says, tone disappointed. “I didn’t want to do that, you know.” 

[tagidearte]

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I take it back, I'm embracing how suggestive this looks. Have a final lineart WIP in case the colouring and shading take ages. Pure lineart without the greys below.

If you want context, this illustration depicts a scene taking place towards the end of this story I'm working on. Unfortunately, i haven't had time to work on it the past two months... Which is a shame, because I want to have the three chapters lined up before sharing it, since each one will be quite long. We're 17k words in, so I believe the fic will be around 30k total. I wanna share it so badddd

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 ~

⟢ One-shot Danny Phantom — Genre: Angst / Hurt — TW: Emotional Distress — Rating: T — AU? — First Person’s POV

———————

There he was—there it was.

My reflection stared back, the green glow of my eyes erratic, flickering like a faulty lightbulb. I wasn’t just looking at myself—I was looking through myself, and I hated what I saw. Not just the face staring back, but the endless spiral behind it—pulling me deeper into some unknowable abyss.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the battle. That one battle. Not with a ghost, not with some lurking threat—but with myself.

The dark part of… me.

The part that had escaped.

Again.

I’d won, of course—I had to believe that. I was the good side of myself, wasn’t I?

The hero.

But winning didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like a delay. Some whispers of the future lingering behind me, leaning over my shoulders, suffocating me with their burden.

I was afraid of becoming him.

That dangerous, older me. That monstrous version of myself that had been waiting all along.

All the—what ifs—it claws at the edges of my thoughts, unraveling my already frayed mind.

What if I couldn’t stop it? What if I was already becoming that monster? What if it was inevitable?

I stared deeper into the mirror, my fists tightening until my nails bit into my palms through my white gloves. I thought about my family, my friends—the people who had always been there. I’d already pushed them away, hadn’t I?

Maybe they aren’t even my friends anymore. Maybe I don’t deserve them.

Sam and Tucker had gone to college, following their dreams like normal people. Jazz was too busy carving her own path to stay. And me? I had stayed behind in the crumbling town I couldn’t abandon, giving up my dream of going to space. Protecting people was my purpose now. At least, that’s what I told myself. But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Was it a noble choice—or a coward’s excuse?

You could still go. You could leave. You could be an astronaut. Fly into space. Fulfill the dream. Your dream.

But it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing ever would.

I gritted my teeth, my reflection rippling in the glass like a warped painting.

Happy thoughts, I told myself. But they didn’t come. They never did anymore. It was always easier to sink into the darker ones, to let them drag myself down into the undertow.

The mocking voices of ghosts, the weight of battles fought and won—none of it mattered in the face of the gnawing feeling in my chest.

My core.

It purred softly, a dissonant hum, both comforting and sinister.

It felt… so freaking wrong.

As if it didn’t belong to me anymore. As if Phantom—him was bleeding into me, hollowing me out from the inside.

My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the sink. My eyes clenched shut, but it didn’t block out the image of myself—the warped, flickering, monstrous reflection staring back. I felt like a glass that was about to shatter, cracks spidering across my soul.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I punched my palms tighter until the pain jolted me back. But the ache in my chest was worse. Phantom wasn’t just part of me. Phantom was me.

My breath staggered in my throat—a sob trembling on the edge of release. My knuckles ached, my chest burned, and that pressure—that suffocating pressure—kept building on.

“Get out of my head!” I screamed, my voice raw, ripping through the suffocating silence.

The sound reverberated in the tiny room, crashing into the walls and returning to me like a ghostly echo. My reflection flickered again—glowing red of Phantom’s eyes overtaking my own for the briefest moment before fading back into green.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted again, this time so forcefully that my throat hurt, as though I was tearing myself apart. The sound cracked into a wail—an uncontrollable, heart-shattering release.

Green tears left cold trails down my cheeks as I screamed again, and again, and again… until the room seemed to quake.

The mirror shattered.

Shards exploded outward, raining onto the counter, the floor, my arms. A jagged piece nicked my cheek, drawing a thin line of green that dripped down onto my trembling hand.

I didn’t care.

My reflection was gone—splintered into a thousand fractured pieces scattered at my feet.

My knees buckled, and I barely caught myself against the sink. My hands shivered, slipping on the porcelain.

I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the cold tile, knees pulled to my chest. My hands tangled in my snow-white hair as sobs wracked my body. Every shuddering breath felt like it might break me further.

The shards of glass caught the dim light, a kaleidoscope of chaos surrounding me, reflecting parts of me I couldn’t escape from.

I clutched my chest, my core still purring that discordant frequency—like a faint, mocking laugh echoing from deep within.

“I’m scared,” I whispered to—no one. My voice cracked. “I don’t want to become… him.”

My words dissolved into another sob as I curled tighter, the shattered mirror fragments glinting like stars against the dark void I felt, pulling me under.

“I will never turn into you.”

———————

Okay. First time I drew Dan. I was scared. Scared of those eyes. Those eyes that pierced the whole time into mine—no, through mine. I should’ve waited with his eyes until the end, but of course, I didn’t.

———————

⟢ You can find my Phan fics here.