I’ve been recently told that I should post my fanfictions on my blog, because they are part of me. It is true, they are. Even though I decided to stop writing real person fanfiction a good while ago, I occasionally indulge in dwelling on some of my favourite TV moments or characters. It’s great writing practice and it helps get rid of a good amount of emotional steam locked up in this brain of mine. read more »
Tag Archives: Fanfiction
For the first time, he saw traces of fear in her eyes. And yet, she stood before him, unflinching, brave. Questioning his horrible words, his horrible soul.
-I don’t think you could hurt me -she simply said, but he caught the faint quiver of her lower lip.
-You don’t know me… you don’t know what I’m capable of -he turned away, walked to his desk and fell on the chair. Its legs squeaked under the weight of his burdened conscience. She saw his back, hunched to protect himself from her inquisitive eyes. Adding to the strange landscape of silence and uncertainty, muffled stamps could be heard in the background as they tried to hit the heavy rocks. read more »
With a frightening growl, he stormed away from her, jumping into the boat and pushing himself away from the bank of the channel, into the darkness until he was nowhere to be seen.
She heard low sounds, murmurings of water and splashes of oar and muffled sounds of something not human, not monster… something she knew belonged to him. The Angel. She was unable to think of him as the Phantom… She had heard scary stories about him, and most people feared his dark ways… but she could not bring herself to be afraid of him. read more »
A fanfic inspired by The Phantom of the Opera… I changed some things… and the Phantom himself. If you check the tags, you will understand why. *giggle* I started writing this a long time ago, but now someone requested an update and I decided to keep on writing it. With a clear conscience, because there is no real person involved. *cheers*
As for the title, I apologize… I know it’s stolen… but I couldn’t help it, I like it so much. Titles are my nemesis… I can’t find proper titles for my stories! All the best ones are already taken!
He stood with his back to it all. Emotions welled up inside his heart, spilling over his closed eyes, burdening his eyelashes with heavy tears.
He could not do it.
Dropping over his bed, he buried his hated face into the soft covers.
The waters of the underworld, his underworld, lay still and dormant under the archways of putrid stone, leaden with moss and slimy rust. Ancient wails echoed between the walls of the tunnel and the perfectly still surface of the water. His wails. His pain. His loneliness. read more »
Early morning found Kathleen sitting at her desk, hunched over a contract she was supposed to hand in, revised and updated, two days earlier. She knew Abbey would always let her off easy, whatever she did, but she hated to take advantage of her friend’s generosity. read more »
He couldn’t believe he was where he was. In the middle of the night, acting like a lunatic to return to a place he never would have dreamed of even going to in the first place. But that was before Chris corrupted him, and before he saw Aimée. read more »
It was late, and it was dark. And it was lonely in the flat, her only possession. Past midnight, tossing sleeplessly on her crumpled sheet. read more »
The air was mellow and lights flickered all around him, making him alert and eager to see the unseen. He was almost happy Chris was back in the hotel: it felt right to be alone, though he didn’t exactly know why. He walked at a slow pace, gazing at the buildings, taking in the details, smelling in the fumes of cars, the tepid warmth lingering after a stifling summer day, and wild whiffs of striking perfume at odd moments, whenever a lady of the night went past him. read more »
There was no photoshoot, but he felt he was exploding. If he couldn’t lose himself in the warmth of a woman he would lose his mind. Too much work and too little rest had made him a little grumpy lately. Why that note and why not the other, when it sounded much better like that. Why only two shows in Atlanta, why a bluish album cover again, why this, why that. He needed to vent, he needed to complain to someone, and for some reason, a stranger (or almost) seemed more suitable for the job than anyone from his crew or family. He just saw them too often; right now, he needed to interact with someone whose not every gesture looked familiar to him. read more »
For mature readers etc.
You’re My Mirror (2)
He shifted in his seat, restlessly throwing a leg over the other, waiting for the camera to be set finally. It was an especially slow and exhausting photo shoot, something that if he had been asked, he would have considered useless. read more »
Gregory House… one of the most intriguing TV show characters, played by the amazing Hugh Laurie. He inspired me more than once. This was my first fanfic on the subject.
He sat in the gloominess of his floodlit parlour, sipping hot coffee, wondering at the irony of the word, given his own circumstances. The last time anyone sat and talked to him in the room was on Christmas Eve. Wilson had come over to keep him company, out of sheer pity, or maybe because of his own emotional problems. Well, that’s what friends are for. In need, indeed. Rain was pouring down on the annoyingly clean windowpanes. Sally came regularly, every week, or fortnight, depending on his mood. Sometimes he just didn’t care, he let the dirt grow over him, like tendrils of memory, pulling him down, pulling him back into the past. But most often he liked law and order persisting in his home. Unless he had to do something about it. Then he just limped to his mistress, the white-lipped, cooing microwave, and exerted scorching coffee out of her. read more »