#pendragon books

[laxyaklovesloz]

DannyMay 2024 #31 Free Day

[Knowledge of Pendragon or Danny Phantom is optional. (I never knew I would write this crossover…)]

Journal #1 - Denduron

I hope you’re reading this, Tucker and Sam. Heck, I hope anyone’s reading this because that means I’m not a total nutjob. I only hope writing this down will help me understand some of what happened and will prove that I’m not crazy.

You see, two things happened recently that changed my life forever. The first, you’ll remember, was that I got freaking ghost powers. The second was that I got jacked across the universe in a wormhole called a flume.

I’ll talk about the portal accident first. Mom and Dad had been working on a portal to the Ghost Zone for ages. When they finally plugged it in, it didn’t work, so they gave up and left to do who knows what. That’s when we came in. Sam convinced me to put on a jumpsuit and go into the portal. For some reason, the “on” switch was on the inside and I accidentally hit it. The portal turned on, zapped me with ecto-radiation, and I came tumbling out the other side, many agonizing seconds later.

You guys saw. I was changed. My black hair turned white, my blue eyes turned green and glowed, and the black and white of the jumpsuit inverted to white and black. I’m pretty sure I passed out for a moment because you were there, helping me wake up.

“Danny, Danny?” Sam called. She lightly patted my face.

“Sam, I think he’s–” Tucker started.

I groaned and sat up, holding my head. “What happened?”

Sam and Tucker looked at each other. “The portal turned on,” Sam said quietly.

I looked at my hands. I was still wearing the jumpsuit, which I quickly took off. As I did so, I looked in the mirror. My appearance was back to normal.

“Did I look… different… to you?” I asked hesitantly.

Sam looked away and Tucker answered, “Yeah, dude! You had white hair and glowing green eyes. It was like you were a ghost!”

“A ghost, huh?” I whispered, looking at my hands again. They seemed solid enough. I pinched my arm. It still hurt. “I’m not a ghost now.”

“No,” Tucker said. “You transformed when you passed out. Do you think you can do it again?”

“What?” I gawked. “How?”

“I dunno,” Tucker shrugged. “Just will it to happen, I guess?”

I thought about it for a second, then took a deep breath. I clenched my fists and said, “I’m going ghost!”

Two white rings appeared around my middle and moved up and down my body. As the rings passed over me, I felt… a change. I can’t quite describe it. It’s mostly a cold feeling. I looked down at myself and saw that I was wearing the inverted jumpsuit. Looking in the mirror confirmed that I had transformed.

“Sweet,” Tucker said.

“What do you think this means?” I asked.

Sam finally spoke up. “Nothing good.”

“What do you mean?” Tucker and I asked at the same time.

“If you’re a ghost,” Sam explained, “it means… it means you… you… technically… I guess… you died.”

I felt the rings appear and shift me back to my normal self. I staggered back, the weight of her words hitting me.

“But, I’m still here, I’m still breathing. I’m still alive,” I said slowly.

“Maybe he’s only half dead?” Tucker suggested, but he sounded small.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of unfriendly thoughts. “Doesn’t matter. I’m okay, Sam. Really, I am,” I added when she looked up at me. I thought she was on the verge of tears. “We’ll figure this out, together. Besides, what goth girl wouldn’t want a ghost as her best friend?”

That got a choked laugh out of Sam. She smiled at me, and I smiled back. Tucker looked between us and coughed.

“That’s all well and good,” he said, “but it’s almost curfew. Sam and I need to get home.”

“Right,” I said, slightly disappointed. “We’ll figure things out tomorrow.” Little did I know that tomorrow wouldn’t happen.

After Tucker and Sam left, there was a knock on the front door. Jazz was upstairs studying, and Mom and Dad were still awol, so I answered the door. My Uncle Press was standing there, holding a motorcycle helmet under his arm.

When he saw me, he thrust the helmet at me and said, “Hi, Danny. Come with me. I need your help.”

“But it’s curfew,” I protested.

Uncle Press turned around immediately and went to a fancy motorcycle sitting at the curb. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was more important than curfew.” When I didn’t follow he turned around and said, “Danny, you’ve known me all your life. Have you ever seen me like this?”

No, I hadn’t. He was acting strange. Normally he was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He’s the one who showed up at random times to give me the best birthdays. Remember that game of laser tag he set up? Yeah, that was him. Now he was almost… scared.

I shook my head and put on the helmet by way of answer. I was sure to lock the door on the way out. I probably should have told Jazz, but Uncle Press seemed to read my mind.

“Your family will understand,” he said mysteriously.

Okay… that was weird. I got onto the motorcycle behind him and we drove off.

We arrived thirty minutes later at an abandoned subway station. We got off the motorcycle and put our helmets on the seats. I was worried someone might steal the motorcycle. We were in a pretty shady area of town.

“What about the bike?” I asked Uncle Press.

“We don’t need it anymore,” he replied.

I shrugged and followed him into the subway station. Uncle Press had to remove boards to let us through.

“Is it okay for us to be here?” I questioned.

“Don’t worry so much, Danny,” Uncle Press answered. “This is where we’re meant to be.”

I sighed, figuring I wouldn’t get much more of an answer than that.

Inside the subway station was dark, so I had to wait for my eyes to adjust. The station had definitely seen better days. There was trash everywhere, and the benches were overturned. The glass of the ticket kiosk had been shattered.

Then I heard a rumbling noise. The station may be down, but the trains still ran. The bright light of the train illuminated the derelict surroundings for a long moment. After the train sped by, it was eerily silent.

I looked at Uncle Press, wondering what was our next step. He seemed on high alert. When did he go all rigid like that? He scanned the empty station.

“What?” I asked him.

He started quickly down the stairs.

“Listen, Danny,” he said quickly as though he didn’t have much time. “If anything happens, I want you to know what to do.”

“Like what?” I asked with a strained voice.

“Everything will be fine if you know what to do. We’re not here to catch a train. We’re here because this is where the gate is.”

“Gate? What gate?”

“At the end of the platform are stairs that lead down to the tracks. About thirty yards down the track along the wall, there’s a door. It’s got a drawing on it, like a star.”

We were moving pretty fast through the station, heading for the far end. I had to dodge the pillars and upturned garbage cans to keep up.

“Are you with me?” Uncle Press asked sharply.

“Yeah,” I said skeptically. “But what’s this all about?”

“If we stop for me to explain everything, we may be too late,” Uncle Press replied. “The door is the gate. If for some reason I’m not with you, open the door, go inside, and say ‘Denduron.’”

“Denda-what?”

“Denduron! Say it!”

“Denduron, I got it. What is it, some kind of password?”

“It’ll get us where we’re going.”

Yeah, because that makes sense. Why couldn’t the word be “abrakadabra” or something equally stupid? What made “Denduron” such a special word?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked nervously. “We’re going together, right?”

“That’s the plan, but if anything–”

“Stop right there!”

We whipped around to see a cop in a khaki uniform standing at the entrance of the station. Uh-oh, busted. For what, I wasn’t sure. Trespassing, probably.

“You boys wanna tell me what you’re doin’ down here?”

Part of me was relieved. I might finally get some answers. I turned to Uncle Press, expecting him to say something. Instead, he was staring the cop down. I could tell he was thinking hard about something. He wasn’t thinking of running, was he? The cop had a gun!

There was a long moment of silence, like a standoff. And then, somebody else joined the party.

“Can’t you leave me in peace?”

We all turned to see a homeless man stand out of what appeared to be a pile of garbage. Correction, he wasn’t homeless, we were in his home. I couldn’t tell what he looked like because he was a tangle of hair and tattered clothes. He spoke with a slurred speech.

“Peace is all I want. A little peace and quiet!”

Uncle Press looked quickly between the homeless guy and the cop, still calculating.

“I think you two better come with me,” the cop drawled.

I looked to Uncle Press. He didn’t move.

“...Castle. This is my castle. I want you all to–”

“What?” Uncle Press asked. “What do you want us to do?”

Then the platform started rumbling again. Another train was coming.

“I want you all to go away! Leave me alone!”

Uncle Press smiled for some reason. He turned to the cop and said, “You don’t know this territory, do you?”

What was that supposed to mean?

“You, I’m talking to you,” the homeless guy yelled to the cop, waving his arms. “I want you out of my castle.”

The cop didn’t turn his focus from Uncle Press. The two stared at each other like gunslingers waiting for the other to move first. Then the cop gave a small smile and asked, “What was your first clue?”

“The uniform. City cops in this territory wear blue, not khaki,” Uncle Press answered calmly. “I’m flattered though. You came yourself.”

The train was getting closer. Its horn blared, echoing in the station. The homeless guy was still going toward the cop… or whoever he was. It seemed Uncle Press knew him.

The homeless guy said, “That’s it, that’s it. If you don’t get out now, I’m gonna–”

He was cut off by a look from the cop. An icy, hard stare. One that chilled me to the bone. The homeless guy began to shake and looked like he wanted to flee but couldn’t move. He was locked in place by the cop’s gaze. He cried out, a horrible, anguished cry. Then he ran straight for the tracks, even though the train was right there.

“No, stop!” I shouted.

It was the most horrible sound that will haunt my dreams forever. I wanted to puke.

I turned to Uncle Press who had a pained look on his face that he wiped away quickly. In a dangerous voice, he said to the cop, “That was beneath you, Saint Dane.”

The cop – Saint Dane – shrugged and said, “Just wanted to give the boy a taste of what is in store for him.”

That didn’t sound good. Was he talking about me? A hard lump formed in my throat.

And then Saint Dane had his own transformation, but this one didn’t come with light rings. His body and clothes morphed into something else. He grew to about seven feet tall. His hair lengthened and turned gray. His skin turned as ghostly pale as mine had when I was in ghost form.

And his eyes. His eyes were a piercing ice blue that stared into my soul, pinning me to the spot.

Suddenly, Uncle Press pulled out an automatic gun from his trenchcoat with a practiced motion. He pushed me behind a bench and I was on my butt on the ground. He leaned in next to me. We were shielded from Saint Dane, but for how long?

More calmly than the situation called for, Uncle Press said one word, “Run.”

“What about you–?”

“Run!”

Uncle Press left the protection of the bench and started shooting at Saint Dane, who dove behind a pillar. I realized he was laying cover fire for me to get away, but I couldn’t just leave him!

I balled up my hands into fists. No way was I leaving someone I loved. Granted, I didn’t have a weapon to attack with, but I had a ghost form. That had to count for something.

“I’m going ghost!”

The rings lit up my hiding place and I transformed. I didn’t know what I could do as a ghost, but I had some ideas based on horror movies. Before leaving the safety of the bench, I practiced going intangible. That would be the most helpful against bullets.

“What are you doing? Run!” Uncle Press shouted. He dove behind the bench again and finally got a good look at me. “Danny, what–?”

“I’ll explain later,” I said, moving on to invisibility. “Let’s get this guy!”

I phased through the bench and propelled myself into the air. So far so good. I was invisible, so Saint Dane couldn’t see me. Neither could Uncle Press, who stared at the spot I had just vacated.

“Come out, come out,” Saint Dane sang. He fired at the bench, laughing maniacally.

I flew at him invisibly and gave him a great big punch to the face. I must have been stronger in ghost form because he went flying backward, landing hard on the stairs. I instantly went over to Uncle Press and looked him over. He didn’t seem hurt. I turned visible again.

“Danny, what–?” he started again, but I cut him off.

“I’ll explain later. Let’s get to that gate you were talking about.”

We hurried to the stairs at the end of the platform, Uncle Press looking over his shoulder at Saint Dane.

“How did you do that?” Uncle Press questioned as we went down the stairs. “And why do you look like that?”

“Oh, so now it’s your turn to ask questions,” I mocked. “What about my questions?”

“Right, we’ll talk about it later,” Uncle Press said. “Right now, we need to watch out for quigs.”

“What are quigs?”

In answer to my question, snarling and growling came from the darkness. I could see pairs of yellow eyes.

“Those are quigs,” Uncle Press said calmly. Boy, I was getting tired of his calm. “We need to find the gate. Now.”

We ran over the train tracks, feeling along the wall for the door. It was pitch black, so all we could see were yellow eyes chasing us. All I could hear was the growling at my back.

Finally, Uncle Press found the door and we hurried inside. I leaned against the door as bodies pounded against it, trying to get to us.

“The door won’t hold very long,” I warned.

“And Saint Dane will be right behind us,” Uncle Press added. That wasn’t a comforting thought.

I took that moment to survey the room we had entered. It was a tunnel that faded into darkness so that I couldn’t see the end. The tunnel looked like it had been hand-carved.

“Denduron!” Uncle Press shouted into the tunnel.

At first, it seemed nothing happened. Then I heard a hum. I also realized that the quigs weren’t attacking the door anymore. It was as though they just disappeared. The hum grew louder, and with it came lights. Then there were harmonious musical notes, and the cave seemed to change. It turned to crystal right before my eyes. Man, lots of things were transforming today.

I cautiously stepped away from the door. No quigs tried to barge through, so I figured it was safe. I felt something… tugging at me. Like a giant hand was pulling me into the tunnel. The light was so bright now that I could only see Uncle Press’s silhouette. I walked up to him so that I could see him better. He smiled at me.

“I’m ready for your questions, now,” he said as we were sucked into the vortex.

[If you liked that, D.J. MacHale does it way better! I tried my best to paraphrase except for the quotes. I also tried to make it more Danny-like instead of Bobby-like. That’s why Danny attacked Saint Dane at the end. Bobby ran and found the Flume. Danny… wouldn’t do that. Anyway. I hope you enjoyed it! Go read Pendragon!]

[birdy-bird-art]

the saga continues...

wamen

[birdybirdnerd]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love <333

AAHHH oh boy time to perceive myself

Gotta say at the top of the list would have to be Somewhere Else, my ongoing TSP fic that I've been working on since 2018 (ignoring the two and a half years there I abandoned it whoops). > Stanley and the Narrator escape the Parable, and are forced to learn how to navigate being human and forming connections.

Battling for top stop of favorite, because it is THE most self indulgent thing I've ever written, is Fate or a Fool's Errand, a Pendragon/Final Fantasy XII crossover I've been working on since late 2021. It's currently on a break as I get some life stuff in order. > Bobby Pendragon, a young Bhujerban noble, is dragged away from his comfortable and familiar life and thrown into the middle of a continents-wide Revolution.

Unexpected Meeting (a Pendragon fic) holds a very dear, special place in my heart despite how old and honestly kind of clunky it is, because of two things: one, that it solidified a number of friendships that were tentative at the time of writing, that have become a few of my closest and longest held friends; and two, because it was the first introduction of my character Dr. Mary Joy, who has become so, so dear to me. Also WARNING this one both has graphic NSFW content and also uh. Suicide ideations and an attempt. Yeah. > AU where the war ends up going on for a lot longer, and Bobby needs a break. Visiting a bar, he ends up crossing paths with a seriously depressed Saint Dane, and everything changes.

anchors at your fingertips was a Magnus Archives drabble thing I wrote on Tumblr based on a long-forgotten post, and even though it was written prior to season five (or even the s4 finale maybe? Can't recall) it still holds a special place in my heart. Short and sweet, but. Guh. I love deep friendships. > Jon and Daisy find each other in the Buried, and then again at the end of it all

...okay this one may be a copout because it's technically a collection of stories but, Hundred Meetings is a Pendragon AU collection of first meetings between Bobby and Saint Dane and it's spawned some VERY fun stories in the (checks date) seven years since I started it. I ended up expanding a few as additions to the series and. It's fun. Its so fun. > As it says on the tin, a hundred (give or take (not actually lmao)) different ways these two could have first met, and possibly started falling in love.

Uhhhh oh god. Now I get to see how many writers I know that I could send this to.

[theyearofrisinglight]

Listening to What Was I Made For by Billie Eilish and seeing it's such a Nevva Winter-coded song. I actually get emotional listening to it remembering she basically asks Elli that during their botched reunion in The Soldiers of Halla 🤧 and it hits even more while reading this one shot fanfic, Within the Songs of Life by Defying_Expectations on AO3. If only we had a TV series or enough Nevva fanart to make an edit with it, sigh.

[tandonshows]

Have you ever wanted to be whisked away to a magical world where you could make a difference?

This week, Harrison Prince, writer and host of the upcoming Ruff Boys podcast, joins to talk about the Young Adult Sci-Fi series, The Pendragon Adventure by D.J. MacHale.

We discuss how the books helped Harrison escape during a tumultuous time, the way the first book's format broke the rules of writing, and how the series helped Harrison to start to hone his own craft.Tangents include whether books have to be good to be worthwhile, controversial reader takes, and Matthew McConaughey.

Part 1 & 2 of this conversation are available now. You can listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or find You Are What You Love on your favorite podcast app now!

[zangetsusundelion]

bobby pendragon is like a less competent american ichigo kurosaki

[oexas]

A lil practice in perspective with this piece mostly, so here's Howl and Sophie, who I designed based 50/50 on their book and movie counterparts! I actually would love to revisit this piece and paring in the future, since the book is one of my all time favs

[nadiajustbe]

One of my favorite parts about the writing of Howl's Moving Castle is how easy it is to write off all the things from our world at first as him just being a weird wizard™ (also thanks to bestie @jutenium for spotting this I wouldn't put it like that without you!!/pos). Sure, Sophie uses weird descriptions, but readers have every reason to believe them because of the way Howl is presented as a character. When Sophie says he wrote with a quill that doesn't need an ink, you wouldn't think it was actually a ballpoint pen, you would think Howl had just enchanted his quill so that it wouldn't need ink! When she adds that she can't make out a single word, you think he has matchingly terrible handwriting, but in fact Sophie has simply never seen a pen writing. When she sees the mysterious labels on his books, you think he's keeping a lot of obscure magical literature, but it's really just an encyclopedia and a guide like "Top 10 Rugby Tips." When Sophie notices the bottles in Howl's bathtub, you think they're some kind of magical jars where he keeps girl's hearts, but I'm almost certain that they're just 'Dove' and 'Head and Shoulders' that he's enhanced with his spells and put silly labels on. When you read Calicifer singing a song in a language Sophie doesn't understand, you think it's some kind of ancient cipher or code, but it's actually just a rugby song in Welsh that Howl sings when he's drunk. And finally, when you see the terrifying black door, which is completely shrouded in darkness, you imagine a passage to an eerie, mythical place, similar to what Miyazaki showed us - but it's just fucking Wales.

[shebsart]

^redraw of a behind the scenes pic from a bout de souffle

This doesn't happen on page because it's a childrens book but I know in my heart it happened.

and probably some former english major student somewhere recalling howell jenkins, circa 1980:

[noodles-and-tea]

Back at it with my enchanted merthur shenanigans

[svrt-degraded]

Them 😏✨ 2nd picture: *angry welsh screams*

[laxyaklovesloz]

DannyMay 2024 Master Post

Introduction

1: Insect

2: Wish

3: Invisible

4: Wander

5: Nails

6: Immortal AU

7: Mind Control

8: Style Challenge

9: Hunger

10 Mausoleum

11: Mutation

12: Time Travel

13: D&D AU

14: Light

15: Field Trip

16: Glowing Veins

17: Equilibrium

18: Revenge

19: Iron

20: Pitch AU

21: Funeral

22: Song Lyric

23: Reflection

24: Electricity

25: Games

26: Shoes

27: Zombie AU

28: Healing

29: Fireworks

30: Goodbye

31: Free Day (a crossover with my favorite book series)

[birdy-bird-art]

@carrioncrepitations suggested I draw Dane (to be expected lmao) so have a very exasperated Dane. Wonder who annoyed him this time?

If you like what I do, why not buy me a Ko-Fi?

[birdybirdnerd]

COME HITHER FOOLS, IT'S FATE DAY

In which the party faces off against the guardian of the Sword of Kings.

[vseshlo]

Calcifer tells Howl about Sophie's situation (and they both feel something to her)

[emrysmoss]

I looove how they had to describe this line in the Merlin books as Arthur giving a “forced, tight smile” because if they described the way he actually delivered this line they would have no reasonable explanation as to why he says it so fondly…..