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bongo-clash · 2 years

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I Want To Break Free

Ectober week prompt: Six Feet

'When three members of Casper High’s football team make one mistake too many, they’ve got no choice other than to bury the evidence. But, both fortunately and unfortunately for them, dead doesn’t mean gone, and they’ve been living in a ghost town for years.'

(Content warnings in tags || fic under cut!!)

For all that Amity Park is the poster child for widescale property damage, the crime rate is practically nonexistent. There’s something about finding a common enemy in the violent ghosts ravaging their town that wards off that willingness to go against another human being’s interests like that; murder, in particular, has been shoved off the table since the moment the victims started coming back to haunt them. It’s common knowledge that if you kill someone in Amity Park, everyone is going to find out.

This is exactly why three A-listers are shitting themselves right about now.

Look, they hadn’t meant for it to go this far. It’d been such a harmless thing in theory- or, well, maybe not harmless, but it shouldn’t have gone any further than humiliation and maybe a bruise or two. They should’ve known it only takes a bad fall. They’re footballers- they should’ve known. But it’d been thoughtless, a split second decision made in the incredibly brief time the opportunity had been presented to them. All Dale had said was ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if you tripped him?’.

And it had been funny, until he hadn’t gotten up again. Now Danny Fenton is dead on the shower room floors, and every single one of them is guilty.

There’s a long time where none of them know what to do. God, they’ve just killed someone, is this second-degree or manslaughter? There certainly wasn’t any express malice, but they’d definitely thought about swiping his feet out from under him without considering that he might hit his head; that could definitely been seen as implied malice. But they hadn’t meant to! They’d never wanted to, it was never supposed to go this far, and it was especially never supposed to go this far here.

‘Here’, as in some place at the end of the school day, when the buses were about to leave and the teachers weren’t waiting up for them, having let them lock up before and having been willing to do it again. ‘Here’, as in Casper High in the first place, that had already seen tragedy in a fire taking almost the entire student body in the fifties, and had now witnessed a murder in its reconstructed halls. ‘Here’, as in Amity Park, the ghost town, where there’s a non-zero chance of this literally coming back to get them.

The silence charged with the smell of deodorant and a wet body already beginning to self-digest is broken, finally, by Dash- the one to trip him, and the first one to back away when he’d felt Fenton’s limp hand for a pulse and found nothing.

“What the Hell do we do?” He whispers, voice barely reaching anyone else in the room, but you could hear a pin drop beneath the still-running showerheads, and everyone was straining to hear it, desperate to divert their attention. My dad’s a lawyer, he thinks, is there any chance he could save us from this?

As if reading his mind, and said like the instigator that knows they’ll be thrown under the bus for suggesting this in the first place, Dale interrupts the train of thought with a sturdy “We can’t go to the police.”

“Dude, are you insane?” Kwan splutters, barely able to keep his gaze from flitting back to the crime scene. And holy shit, this really is a crime scene. “Dale, we can’t just try and bury this, that’s so much worse.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re a witness!” Dale snaps, looking overwhelmed but outsourcing it to aggression, eyes wide and afraid but brow furrowed. “You’re really gonna let us take the fall like that? We’re your friends.”

Kwan, to his merit, is standing his ground, despite looking incredibly green around the edges. In fairness, all three of them probably look that way. “I’d rather be a witness than an accomplice! I can’t- we can’t-!”

“We’re the only people here.” Dash interrupts numbly, and this is probably the second most awful thing he’s ever done apart from actual murder, but all that’s running through his head right now is I can’t go to jail. His life can’t be over with one dumb mistake even if Danny’s is. “Who’s to say it wasn’t you who did it? All the teachers have seen how we act around the school; we work as a group, always. They’re not gonna believe it was just one of us. They’re gonna believe it was all of us.”

This is his best friend, and he’s convincing him to help hide a body by threatening him, because Dash accidentally committed murder and this does not in the slightest feel like something that’s actually happening to him right now. The whole world feels like a smudged trail against the lens of a window pane. There are tears in Kwan’s eyes.

“I’m never fucking talking to any of you again.” Kwan spits, voice damp with distress. “You- You’re monsters for this. It stops being an accident the moment you start trying to cover shit up, I just- this is horrible.”

The realisation that he’s never heard his friend swear before is a thousand miles away, back in some world where Dash’s biggest problem was getting detention for making Mikey late to class on Tuesday. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t sad. “But you’re gonna help us.”

His expression is the picture of helplessness, but he doesn’t say a word in retort. Silently, the agreement is made that no one is going to know.

Figuring out what they’re supposed to do with the body is a completely different ball game, though. Kwan had enough of an interest in forensic science (wrenched from him completely two minutes ago, but he can’t erase what facts he already has) to know that dead bodies are apparently heavy as Hell, and the woods is too far to carry one towards. It’d be a terrible idea to bury the body under or near the football field- the disturbed soil would be way too noticeable- but to get to any other place with easily accessible ground, they’d have to transport the body through town and none of them could drive. That doesn’t leave them with a lot of options.

“Behind the bike shed.” Dale exclaims suddenly. “The gap between the shed and the hedge is so tiny no one even goes there to make out- no one’ll even notice the difference.”

“But won’t people look around the school if someone got murdered here?”

Dale looks to the showers nobody bothered to turn off, and down at the body with glazed eyes. “They won’t know it was here if all the blood’s down the drain.”

There’s not much to argue with there. Dale has the forethought to go outside and make sure the coast is clear while grabbing a sheet of tarp from the equipment shed, bringing it back into the room with lips pursed into a hardset line.

Kwan keels over and spills his guts into the shower drains the moment Dash lifts the body, blood and water congealing at the back of Fenton’s head and spilling onto the floor, but no one says a word about it, they just wait until he’s finished. They wrap the body in the tarp until only the ends of his hair and the tips of his shoes are visible, and Dale directs the showerhead to wash away the gore. He tries not to squirm at the knowledge of what he’s holding in his hands right now, because if there’s any time to freak out it’s not now. Not when there’s still stuff left to do.

When they’ve gotten to the spot behind the shed, there’s already three shovels leaning against the back. Dash puts the body down underneath the hedge, and grabs a handle.

“Six feet.” He says. “And no one’ll have to know.”

It’s probably the most stupid thing he’s ever done other than trip Danny Fenton in the showers, but that same night, he goes back to the place they buried the body.

He doesn’t know why he thought it was a good idea. He hadn’t, most likely, but still, a piece of him felt like he needed to go back, that dumb part of his brain where all the morbid curiosity comes from and all his meanest ideas go. Regardless of the cause, though, at two in the morning not eight hours after they’d tried to flatten the soil, Dash is back at the grave.

His heart still aches with everything Kwan had said, begging them to just go to the police and come clean, because no matter how much he doesn’t want his life ruined he knows it already is. There’s not going to be any coming back from this- whether anyone finds the body and discovers their part in it or not, this is going to follow him for the rest of his life. That soil disturbed amongst the grass from upturning, wedged between the bike shed and the hedge, the ground shaking with motion.

…The dirt. The dirt’s moving. Why’s the dirt moving?

All at once, he jumps back about five paces and freezes stock still, gaze transfixed towards the soil rumbling like the epicentre of a personal earthquake. His mind is terrifyingly blank as he watches, hearing more and more coming from beneath as the time passes somewhere between a good few minutes and an eternity, something like muttering or moans permeating the earth.

A hand grasps for purchase as it breaks through the top layer of the soil- pale, grimy, and fuzzing at the edges with translucence. The palm finds flat ground some centimetres away, and with a sound like a grunt or a cry, the corpse pulls itself out of the ground.

Danny Fenton stands in full form before him, brown blood smudged across his temple from the back of his head and dirt caking every other inch of him. The tarp is sticking out from the ground like a tongue. “Hey Dash,” Fenton sighs, like he hadn’t just crawled out of his own unmarked grave alive. “What are you doing here? It’s… oh man, it’s totally past curfew. My parents are gonna kill me for sure.”

It’s that comment in particular that snaps him out of his stupor, catching the weird look in the other boy’s eyes. “Fenton, what the fuck?” His voice is half-wheezing with disbelief, surprised he’s able to breathe between it at all. This is impossible, shouldn’t be happening, but, this is Amity. The dead come back to haunt them all the time.

“What?” He asks blithely, before tilting his head to look back at the mound in the dirt, the hole that had been filled to hide him. “Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. No one comes back here anyway, and it’s not like they’ll care if they do.”

He can’t for the life of him process the calm in Danny’s voice. “You were dead.” He says. “I killed you. We buried you.”

“But you didn’t report it to the police, huh?” Not knowing how else to respond, Dash shakes his head. “Yeah, makes sense, they never do. Still, guess that gives me less issues to deal with in the long run, and I can’t really complain about that even if the morality of the whole thing bugs me. You really should tell people about these kinds of things before they find out on their own, y’know? Oh, but Dash?”

Fenton has his back turned by now, having stretched his limbs out and began to walk off during his talk, but he turns his head just a little, then. Just enough that Dash can see the glint of sharp teeth underneath his lips. Just enough for his eyes to catch green under a light that doesn’t exist.

“No one’s gonna believe you.”

…

(When Kwan and Dale come to school with him the next day like nothing’s wrong, and they spot Danny Fenton talking with his friends by his locker like any other stupid day, they don’t say a word. They don’t make fun of him when he falls asleep in class after claiming to have had a ‘long night’, and they don’t tell their friends why they weren’t at Star’s house by eight, and they don’t ask Kwan to talk about it when they go to bathroom together at lunch and he has a panic attack over the sinks. Because Danny Fenton being alive is not possible, but if the dead won’t tell their secrets, then neither will they.)

(Neither will they.)

#tw death #tw murder #tw corpse #tw injury #Yes the title's from the Queen song I thought it'd be funny #ectoberweek2022 #day26 #dp fic #dp fanfic #danny phantom fic #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom #danny fenton #dash baxter #kwan dp #Bongo's Writing!!!

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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 year

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The Vital Component

For the Phic Phight prompt: The real reason Danny and Vlad became halfas is discovered. Why did it only happen with the proto-portal and portal? Why two people with knowledge of ghosts? (from @staira)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for death and implied murder, I guess? Vlad's a bit of a creep at the end Idk]

Vlad was doing a little light reading before bed. An unknowably ancient tome stolen from the Ghost Zone's Infinite Archives made for excellent bedside literature. He turned the page with a yawn, resolving to go to sleep when he was done with the current chapter. Then he saw the title of the next chapter and all thoughts of sleep were banished from his mind.

Hybrida: The Still-Living Ghost.

Immediately Vlad became engrossed in the ghostly characters before his eyes, soaking up all the information he could. This book was from millennia ago, at least, and yet there was a chapter on a half-ghost, like him. Was there another one out there, still in the Ghost Zone? What had happened to them?

Hypomone of Thebes was a medium, a seer who communed with the dead. The histories say that from childhood, she was haunted by the spirits of those who would not pass on. Plagued by the ghosts that surrounded her, Hypomone enacted a solution that only she could. She created a spell.

The spell she created would open a door to Hades so that the restless spirits that followed her would be able to pass into the fields of Asphodel. Opening a door to the afterlife could only be done if two very specific requirements were met with a single, vital component.

First, the spell required a sacrifice to lay down their life to open the portal, but not just any sacrifice. The sacrifice had to be a human who had a close, lasting relationship with the dead. Hypomone, who had been surrounded by ghosts her whole life, fit the role perfectly.

Second, the portal required a host who was halfway between the worlds of the living and the dead, to carry it, and would make a suitable host out of it's sacrifice. Hypomone was prepared to become the host.

Hypomone prepared the spell under the light of the full moon. She drew a doorway in the earth. She stood in the center, and activated the spell, and when the doorway opened, it tore her apart. In the same moment she died, and yet survived, and became a halved, broken soul. Two bodies sharing the same place. At once, she was Hypomone of Thebes, and at once she was Hybrida of Hades. Half a woman, half a spirit, a still-living ghost.

She held the door open for the spirits who had surrounded her since she was young; those who could not afford to pay Charon, ferryman of the dead; or who had not been prepared to leave their living loved ones, and missed their opportunity to pass on. Though the pain of a halved life was excruciating, she held the door open, always, for any spirit that needed it.

If she has not yet passed into Elsewhereness or been destroyed, she holds the door open still.

Vlad's heart pounded in his chest. His mouth felt bone dry. His fingers trembled.

A sacrifice to lay down their life to open the portal. Vlad had died, passed slowly on from the lethal ecto-acne that had infected him.

A human who had a close, lasting relationship with the dead. Vlad had studied ectology for years before the proto-portal incident. Not his whole life as Hypomone had, but perhaps that was why he'd gotten infected first, and not been torn apart instantly like her.And perhaps it was because he hadn't died right away that the proto-portal had ultimately failed.

A host who was halfway between the worlds of the living and the dead.

Vlad swallowed. A half-ghost had to act as the portal's host. Was that why, when he'd first opened the portal in his own lab, it had transformed him unexpectedly?

And Daniel? Daniel was the same way, wasn't he? Vlad thought. The boy had been exposed to ectoplasm his whole life, perhaps even when he was still in the womb. He had been involved in an accident with his parents' new Fenton Portal, and... it hadn't worked before that accident. It couldn't function without a sacrifice... without a host.

This was all such enlightening information.

Hypomone, or Hybrida, whichever she was, could still be in the Ghost Zone to this day. There was a chance he could even find her, slim though that chance may be. The Infinite Realms was, after all, infinite.

Most interestingly, however, Vlad knew the recipe now. Knew how to create another half-ghost. All he had to do was find the right sacrifice, and build a portal. Then he could finally have a child who was just like him. A family who understood him. The pieces were beginning to fall into place at last.

#phic phight 2023 #phic phight #dp #danny phantom #fic #things i wrote #vlad masters #half ghosts #worldbuilding #dp headcanons #i guess #lore building

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punkymonkeehat · 1 year

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Another little segment/idea/goofy scene! I will try and get a short story out! I want to write these as an anthology together, so each "chapter" is a new creature or entity as they try to figure out the spike of anomalies. Plus, more lore added to why there's more entities! Anyway, I know these are short and really goofy. Please enjoy!!

------☆☆☆----------------------------------☆☆☆-------

"It's a creature that lurks in the shadows of the trees, darting whenever you turn to look..." the old man garbled. He wiggled his fingertips as he spoke, evoking a spooky ambiance to his tale. "The only evidence they've found of this creature are large footprints in the mud, too large for any human man to make!" There was a brief pause. The three teens stared at the old man, who took a tentative sip of his too-hot-cocoa, grinning with an eyebrow raised. They all look at each other, then back. In unison, they said, "You mean Bigfoot?"

The man slammed his mug down, the streaming liquid sloshing about inside at the force and stood up, pointing a long bony finger at them.

"NOT Bigfoot he's a myth! This is a humanoid creature, one that has not been seen for more than a glimpse, and has large back legs. Some say that it's hairy all over, like an ape!" Another pause.

"So Bigfoot..." the three said together again. The old man squished his face in frustration, yelling to himself incoherently in frustration.

"Everything's Bigfoot! It's always Bigfoot! Why is it always HIM!?" He stomped off, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, towards the door.

"That guy's nutso..." Tuck muttered widening his eyes at the other two.

"What was your first guess, the undying hatred for Bigfoot, or the fact that he drinks hot cocoa like he's a drunk?" Sam snidely asked.

"Both, plus the fact that he's not wearing any shoes..." Danny said, scrunching up his nose. "That guy smells in more way than one." Sam sighed and leaned back, placing her hands behind her head, and smiled.

"Don't you just love locals..." She murdered.

"There has to be some truth in what he's saying. The Fenton Finder said there was an anomaly here, somewhere. I'm not sure if it's a creature or a ghost or just something silly like a floating car." Danny pulled out the machine and placed it on the table. After glancing around to make sure people weren't eavesdropping, he continued. "See that blip? It means it's pretty close. My ghost sense isn't going off at all, and I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"If it's a floating car, I'd argue that's a good thing." Tucker chimed in. After a turned eyebrow from his friends, he shrugged. "Well, I'd prefer that over a ghost or some ravenous creature trying to eat us."

"Fair point..." Danny turned a few knobs on the Fenton Finder. "The blip hasn't moved from wherever it's at, so it may be possible that it's nocturnal and just asleep or dormant. Sam, do you know of any other local legends in the area?" Sam furrowed her brows in thought, tapping a black, coffin shaped nail tip against her purple lips.

"Hmmm, well... there's the legend of the cemetery ghost, the church ghost who haunts one of the 50 here in town, I'm not sure which one... there's not as many legends out here. Mostly just general hauntings, and even those are far and few between. The last sighting of the cemetery ghost was back in 1987, and the church ghost was in 2004. Nothing has become of either since then, honestly." Danny frowned and then hummed.

"I wonder what it could be, maybe a new entity?"

"To make a blip that size, though, would mean it would be pretty obvious. People would have seen it and it wouldve gotten reported to someone. That much ectoenergy would turn your hair on end if it was fully functioning. So either it's an old entity that's been on our plane of existence since forever, or it's still a dormant new entity waiting to be awakened." Tucker grabbed the Fenton Finder to look himself. "The blip size is how much ectoenergy there is in each entity, and the fact that this town has seemed peaceful even with this giant thing lurking around means it has to be a creature or ghost that's been around long before the portal was destroyed." Sam slapped her hand down, jolting Tucker and Danny from their thinking and causing some locals to turn their heads for a moment.

"There's a roaming cryptid around these states! That means that while it may not be a local legend, it could be a large ectoenergetic creature!" Danny and Tucker looked at each other and grinned.

"Well? What is it?" Danny asked, buzzing with excitement and leaning in.

"The Skunk Ape!" Sam said, crossing her arms and smiling ear to ear. There was a pause as the two boys looked at each other. Tucker turned toward Sam and asked,

"You mean stinky Bigfoot?"

#danny phantom #phandom #sam manson #tucker foley #danny phantom au #phantomcryptidau #danny fenton

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npcemi · 11 months

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Welcome to my Meet Cute where Jason is a hopeless romantic whose inner voice is essentially a Jane Austen novel. Part 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47612662/chapters/120254056

just a little fun fact. I am totally head cannon Jason looking like his Gotham Knights model, mostly I think it's funnier. Totally not because it made my Redhood crush a little more intense......

“Danny I still can’t believe you literally made it sound like I have a kink for criminals to a Wanye of all people, a hot one at that!” Jazz whined to Danny as Danny, Sam, Kitty, and her were sitting around looking for a cheap condo for sale in Gotham. They were all going to be there through Danny's Ph.D. and whatever remains of Jazz's master’s program, possibly even her doctorate. So that was at least ten years. They had made the excuse to their parents about equity, but realistically they wanted to be able to rogue proof the place. They were going to Gotham after all.

“Jazz, you wouldn’t have liked him, he’s some spoiled rich socialite,” Danny argued.

“Did you see his muscles under his suit, I know you could!” Jazz gushed, Kitty and Sam started to giggle, knowing Danny a little too well.

“One, I would never look at another Man, Johnny is the jealous type, and Two, those were totally dumb gym bro muscles. You need someone who can fight. Not someone you could beat in a fight.” Danny said both contradicting himself and drawing attention to the fact that the Fenton siblings' prolonged and extensive exposure to ectoplasm had changed them significantly. Danny being half ghost obviously was the most changed. However, Jazz’s changes were more subtle. Fangs, eyes a little greener, a little stronger, and a little faster. While the physical changes were the most outwardly obvious, it was the mental changes that were the most significant.

Jazz’s need to analyze and understand people was border lining on an obsession. Both siblings were protective of their family unit. Which encompassed their parents, Tucker, and all of Danny’s partners. This included Sam Danny's high school sweetheart, Ember who both Danny and Sam held a hidden flame, Kitty, who was dating Danny, Johnny, and Ember, and Johnny who was dating Kitty and Danny. The unit also included Danny's clone daughter Danielle “Elle” Phantom who is obsessed with exploration and often roamed the earth in search of the next cool place or people she could meet. She would often send postcards.

Danny and Jazz were both territorial, nobody entered their haunt without permission. Neither would admit it, but this is also the reason they were looking at buying. It was bad enough that they would have to share the building with strangers, but to be beholden to a landlord. That was unacceptable. Their haunt was theirs. They were also more combative. Both as a way of protecting, but also as a way of socializing. Jazz was already looking forward to seeing what the Gotham MMA gyms were like.

“Danny, you can’t just scare off any potential boyfriends.”

“I never even tried to scare him. I just informed him that you clearly have a type!”

“Danny!” Jazz sighed

“Jazz!” Danny exclaimed. His sister sighed again trying to redirect the conversation to the task at hand. “Okay let's go over what our requirements are again.” She said,

“A closet we can turn into a semi-permanent ghost portal,” Danny said,

“The ability to install our own security system and a place for my garden,” Sam added.

“And a way to soundproof the bedrooms,” Kitty added with a bit more enthusiasm than expected. Danny and Sam blushed as Jazz groaned not wanting to be reminded that her little brother somehow had a more productive sex life than her.

“What? Ember is rather loud.” Danny and Sam nodded sagely at Kitty’s comment.

“And when Danny is with Johnny even I need ear plugs, I mean I totally get it, Johnny is a man who can really…” Kitty was cut off by Jazz who found something that may be perfect for the group. She was also thankful for the timing of her find. Jazz asked the group to hear her out on her Idea.

“Danny, our parents made us 12.5% owners each in Fenton works right?” Danny nodded his confirmation.

“Okay, I think we should expand Fenton works and found the anthropological branch which would be headquartered in Gotham!” Jazz looked out to see three confused faces.

“There’s this warehouse in between the Bowery, Park Row and Robinson park. It’s perfect, close to the only real hub of nature in the city for Sam, we can also add a garden to the roof. We can obviously set up whatever security we want and have enough room for all seven of us!”

“Seven?” Sam asked.

“You mean Elle gets her own room when she visits?” Danny asked and responded with a resounding yes,

“And that’s not even the best part. The warehouse, the whole thing, the land it’s on is only three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” Jazz knew it was technically a little over budget, but between the tax benefits from counting it as a Fenton Works purchase and the fact Danny could grab as many one Kg gold bars from the Keep as he needed, the whole thing was easy to buy and very much worth it.

“Ok, I’m sold, call the realtor,” Danny said, already opening a portal to the ghost zone.

#dpxdc au #dpxdc #danny fenton #jazz fenton

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aikoiya · 2 years

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DP HC - Spectral Acknowledgement Ability

There was an interesting idea I saw somewhere that I thought was cool & I'm gonna expand on it.

You see, in this fic, someone died & he came back as a ghost, but whenever his daughter turned away from him, she felt like she was suddenly alone & so she would look back to make sure that he was still there.

So, I decided that that was a pretty cool idea for some ghost lore. The idea is that ghosts are naturally immune to a human's sense of object permanence when it comes to the ghosts themselves.

One synonym for Object Permanence being Recognition. And Recognition is defined as "1. identification of someone or something or person from previous encounters or knowledge. 2. acknowledgment of something's existence, validity, or legality."

Acknowledgement, however, is when someone else recognizes your existence. So, Spectral Acknowledgement.

That means that when you take your eyes off of a ghost, your brain acts as if they aren't there anymore unless they want you to be aware of them in that way. Like, logically speaking, you know that they're there; at least, you think they are, but it doesn't feel like it. It feels like you're alone until they want you to be aware of them, at which point, you become innately aware in the way that you sometimes feel like there is a presence in the room like in haunted places. When the ghost is looking at you & they want you to be aware of them, this presence is accompanied by the feeling that you're being watched, which can be unsettling when you aren't looking directly at the ghost. I mean, it's unsettling even when you're looking back, but it's even more so when you aren't.

So, when the ghost isn't trying to make you aware of them & you turn back to them, it comes as a teeny-tiny bit of a shock when they are there. When they aren't, it doesn't immediately register that there was someone there in the first place unless you're intentionally recalling them being there just a second ago.

It can be disorienting & very unsettling.

I imagine that Danny does this unconsciously in both forms & it sorta camouflages him to a degree. Especially, when he uncontiously wants to be noticed or go unnoticed, this ability will follow that unconscious desire. Initially, he doesn't realize he's doing it. I also think that he can sorta just decide to become unnoticeable if he wants to be seen but also not at the same time, hard enough. He just sorta becomes another face in the crowd. It also doesn't take up any ectoplasm or energy to do so for him. Whereas ghosts are able to go invisible without really thinking, Danny is half-ghost & his natural state still registers as visible.

Like, there's a difference between being invisible & being unnoticeable. Invisible is where you literally can not see something. Unnoticeable is where you can see something, but you don't pay attention to it. It's like how Doctor Who explained the Chameleon Circuit.

It's because of this ability that Ghosts show up on camera/recorder/cellphone as a staticy mess unless they were built specifically to do so.

As a result, after the Fentons were able to invent the ectographic lense mk 1 (or simply the ectogram), which was able to see past the static of ghosts, & installed it into a camcorder. After which, they were commissioned to make ones for the Amity News Station.

Over time, the Fentons were able to then merg an infrared camcorder & thermal camcorder with a night vision one, to make a more advanced camcorder that could switch between regular, night vision, & infrared at the push of a button, even able to layer night vision, infrared, thermal imaging, & the ectogram over top of each other. Afterwards, they installed the ectogram mk 1 into it, to make the Fenton Ghost Viewer, when Amity News commissioned them for one again.

The Ghost Viewer could not only look past the static to view ghosts normally, they also used a mix of the infrared, thermal imaging, & ectogram to see ghosts when invisible. Of course, the image seen is often much like the thermal imaging of a person, but depending on the ghosts' core temperature, will either show them as being much hotter or much colder than humans.

For more, go to my full Ghost Zone Masterlist.

#danny phantom #dp #ghosts #ghost lore #doctor who reference #chameleon circuit #aikoiya hc #writing prompt

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haloburns · 1 year

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phic phight #14

seventeen again. please?

Jack is trying to be a good dad and help both of his ghostly kids. Except, it backfires in typical Jack Fenton fashion, and now he's getting lectured by his twelve-year-old son.

After Jack's invention messes up Danny's life yet again, he's going to have to spend the week at school as a prepubescent teenager again, all while hoping no one notices and asks questions since this is one situation he definitely doesn't know how to lie his way out of.

Takes place in the the world is having more fun than me (tonight) universe.

Part twelve of the can't have shit in amity park, not even a slightly normal halfterlife series.

“What about school?”

“Dad says I still have to go.” A classic Dumpty Humpty shirt fell over Danny’s properly scrawny chest. He scowled down at it. He did not miss this physique.

“Dude, what?!” Tucker laughed at the absurdity.

“I’m serious!” Danny whined as he simply stepped out of his shoes, socks, and jeans. His friends, the best friends that they were, turned away without a word so Danny could drop the now-massive boxers and grab one of the smaller pairs they’d picked up on their way over. “He thinks my Haunt will protect me from everyone noticing like always.”

Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes at the wall she was facing. “Dude, you’re like twelve. Everyone is gonna notice. You’re not a scrawny kid anymore, you’re so fucking easy to pick out of a crowd. Someone’s gonna notice you’re missing, and then when they see you like that with us, they’re gonna put two and two together.”

“You’re giving the students of Casper High way too much credit, Sam,” Tucker argued. They heard the sound of a zipper being tugged up and turned back to face their friend. The faded gray jeans were a good look on him.

Twelve-year-old Danny flopped back onto his bed with a groan. “I have no idea what they’re gonna do. Wes is gonna have a conniption though.”

“So is Valerie.”

“What am I gonna do about patrols?!” He scrubbed his hands over his face with another extended groan. “I can’t let the others see me like this! I’m tiny!” He threw his arms up before letting them collapse back to the bed stretched out beside him.

“Have you tried going ghost since this happened?” Sam asked, nudging his foot from her position on the bean bag. “What does baby Phantom look like?”

“You know what baby Phantom looks like,” Danny grumbled. “You were there when I got fried.”

“Yeah, but you’re more baby now than you were at fourteen!” She nudged him again more insistently. “Come on, let’s see what happens when you go ghost. You said your ectoplasm feels too big for you right now? I wanna know what that means.”

Tucker whipped out his PDA. “Me too, so chop chop, ghost boy!”

Danny pushed himself up on his hands to glare at his friends. He wasn’t sure how impressive it was with all the baby fat on his face, but an attempt was made, and that’s what matters.

“Fine,” he muttered. He stood up and shook his limbs out. With a sharp exhale, he said, “I’m goin’ ghost!”

Continue on AO3.

#phic phight #phic phight 23 #phic phight 2023 #danny phantom #the world is having more fun than me tonight series #can't have shit in amity park not even a slightly normal halfterlife #ecto fics #ecto writes

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dp-marvel94 · 9 months

Text

Face to Face- Chapter 55

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First -> Last -> Next

Word Count: 4,666

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: I'm back with a new chapter! It's been a minute; I've been busy with Invisobang but I'm excited to be done with the writing and onto the editing process. Also, notice, we finally have a final chapter count! More about that and my Invisobang story in the end note.

With no school and no alarm set for the morning, Danny happily slept in. He slowly blinked awake to soft golden light, rolled over, and…. drifted in and out of sleep for another hour at least.

He woke up again to the light shifted. A glance at the clock: 10:30. The boy scrolled through his phone for a while before his rumbling stomach convinced him to get up.

Down in the kitchen, Danny enjoyed a bowl of cereal. He hummed happily, mind going over plans for the day. No school! Other than a bit of homework, he was free. He could just relax, watch TV, hang out. Maybe Sam and Tucker would want to do something or…

He dropped his spoon, the thought hitting him. “I should go see Sidney.” The other ghost had no idea that he was back to normal now. And he still had so many questions, so many plans to make.

Mind made up, the half ghost put his bowl in the sink. Ghostly keen ears picked up on voice downstairs; his parents must be working. He should check with them before going out.

The boy opened the basement door, briefly knocking to get the adult’s attention.

“- doors for the portal are a good idea. But wouldn’t ghosts be able to just phase through the steel?”

“What if we came up with some kind of phase-proof paint?” Dad raised a hand, turning to look up at the boy at the top of the stairs. “Morning, son.”

“Morning.” Danny started down the stairs. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Installing steel doors for the portal.” Mom turned on her stool. “We haven’t had problems with ghosts coming through but it could become one. Especially if more natural portals are opening up.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “That couple who showed up last night came through a natural portal, you said.”

“Yeah.” The boy nodded, going on to explain everything that had happened with Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow at the concert.

Both adults nodded as the story finished. “So there was another natural portal.” Dad said. “We really need to work on a way to track and map out those.”

“We could modify the Fenton Finder and-” Mom started, already switching to problem-solving mode.

Danny held up his hands. “Before you get into it, I came down here to tell you I’m going to go see Sidney.”

A worried look crossed each parents’ face, eyes flickering to the portal.

The boy shook his head, interpreting the look. “I’m not going through there. I was gonna go to the school and see if I can use his portal.”

The worried looks eased slightly but… “So you’re still going into the Realms?”

Danny nodded at his mom’s question.

The woman’s brow furrowed. “You won’t be able to call us if something happens.”

“I’ll stay in the lair.” The boy shook his head, voice placating. “I’m not going to go flying off to some random place without a plan. And I’ll be with Sidney if something happens. He knows his way around.”

The parents traded a look, silently communicating. Finally, Mom sighed. “Alright. Be back before dinner.”

A smile cracked on the halfa’s face. “I will.”

“And-” Dad said pointedly, causing the boy’s smile to dip. “Tell your friend we want to meet him.”

“Yes.” Mom nodded vigorously. “You can bring him over whenever. Even today! We really want to pick his… brain?” Her brow wrinkled at the phrase.

“Core?” Dad shrugged, eyebrow raised.

Danny laughed. “Alright. I’ll see if he wants to come over later.” He started turning to leave. “I’ll see you guys later.” He stepped up the first stair, mind already planning. He’d walk to the school, sneak in. Invisibility and intangibility were good for that….

He paused, core suddenly itching. He could walk or…

Deciding, Danny summoned the rings. Once. Twice. It took three tries for them to pass.

His parents gave him curious looks. “What are you doing, Danno?”

“Well, um. I was going to walk but…” The boy shifty awkwardly in the air, suddenly nervous. “I’m kinda itching to... And I haven’t really done it in a while but I really want to fly there.”

Another pair of concerned looks was traded. ��Can you keep it up long enough to get there, son?” Dad motioned to his floating form.

“I think so?”

Mom raised a brow challengingly. “You think so? Danny, I don’t want you falling out of the sky.”

“Well.. I can feel when I’m about to change back. So I can land before them. And I can kinda still fly as a human so…” He shrugged.

“We did see that yesterday, Madds…” Dad nodded, a brow raised at the woman.

“Yes, we did…” The woman’s expression softened. “Go on then.” She waved him off.

“Yes!” Danny fist pumped, already zooming up the stairs.

“Bye son!” “Love you Sweetie!”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flying to the school was fast. And true enough, getting to Sidney’s locker was easy with his powers.

Landing in the hall, Danny cautiously looked to both sides. No one- teacher or custodial staff- was in the hall. He turned visible, opening the rusty door.

“Sidney!” He hissed, eyes fixing on his tarnished reflection. “I’m me, Danny.”

There was a long pause, leaving the ghost floating awkwardly. But…

The image rippled, the sudden movement startling the nervous boy.

“Sidney!” Danny exclaimed, realizing.

There was his bespeckled friend. Through the mirror, the other ghost waved excitedly, a grin spreading across his face. A clear invitation to come through.

The halfa touched the mirror and again it rippled, a familiar wave of green passing over. A cold feeling brushed Danny’s hand. Like before, the portal opened.

The halfa smiled. Taking a breath, he let his body relax, feeling liquid and boneless. He effortlessly slunk through the opening. Recoiling back into his proper shape, he emerged on the other side, into Sidney’s lair.

“Hey, Sidney! How’s it going?” With a smile, Danny held a closed fist up in greeting.

The other ghost blinked confusedly at the gesture, tilting his head in question. But he quickly caught on. Sidney tentatively raised his fist before he delivered the expected fist bump. “This is a nice surprise. It’s great to see you… Danny.” He trailed off slightly, eyes widening as he slowly withdrew his hand.

Danny lowered his own fist. “What?”

“You’re different…” The nerd’s brow wrinkled for just a moment. Then…. his mouth fell open, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You re-joined, didn’t you?!”

“Yes?” Despite the surety of the answer, his voice still pitched up in question. “How do you even know that?”

“I can see it! Your aura looks so much warmer.” The other ghost motioned. “And your core sounds happy!” Sidney gave a little clap. “So things worked out?”

Danny stared for just a second, mind working. More questions… what exactly was that about seeing his aura and hearing his core? But the boy shook his head, dismissing them for now. “Yeah!” He beamed. “That’s why I wanted to come see you. I managed to re-merge a few days ago and…”

In quick order, the halfa recapped what had happened in the two weeks since he’d seen his ghostly friends. Making up with his parents, practicing his powers, meeting the dragon ghost, and finally being able to fuse back into one person. “So yeah. It’s really great to feel like myself again. So…” He rubbed the back of his neck, then shrugging. “I kinda wanted you to actually met halfa-me and hang out for a bit.”

“Well then…” Sidney laughed, holding out his hand. “My name is Sidney Pointdexter. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

Grinning, Danny took the hand. “Daniel James Fenton-Phantom. You can call me Danny. I’m happy to officially meet you.”

The shake ended, both boys dropping hands. Then…

“Do you want to see my garden?”

“Yes! I’d love to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...And this is a tiger shrub.” Sidney pointed at the squat but bushy plant.

Danny studied it with wide eyes. So different from the plants he was used to…. Neon blue veins criss crossed the stems. Stripped flowers the size of his hand- black as the void of space and day glow orange, reminding him of his dad’s signature hazmat suit. And the fist sized fruits….

“Tiger fruit! That’s what I tried last time I was here.”

“Yep.” Sidney gave a nod. “Grown right here.”

The half ghost’s head turned, taking in everything. “This is incredible…”

It really was. Plants of every describable color-- and quite a few he had no words for – covered just about every inch of the roof and the courtyard below. Bed of pitch black lettuce. Trees with perfectly hexagonal pink leaves. A literally squirming vine with what looked like some type of gourd attached, except perfectly spiraled and covered with different colored polka dots.

A bit of awe leaked into Danny’s voice. “Really incredible, Sidney.”

The other ghost puffed out his chest slightly at the praise. “I’m happy to hear you think so, friend. I have been tending it for decades.”

The halfa nodded, appreciation just growing. “Mom and Dad are gonna want to see this.” His eyes widened. A sudden idea… “Pictures! I should take some pics.” His hand flailed, patting the top of his pants, up to his torso.

“What are you looking for?”

“My phone. I brought it downstairs with me this morning….” It should be in his pocket. Except his hazmat didn’t have any pockets. His hands suddenly froze. He’d transformed before leaving the house. Danny smiled sheepishly. “Guess it's in my other pants.”

“Pictures? Phone? Other… pants?” The poor guy looked so confused. “What are you talking about?”

The halfa lowered his hands. “So humans are okay being here for a little bit, right? Like, I’m not going to fall through your lair or something.”

“Probably not?”

That was good enough. Two flickers of his rings. Danny turned human. And…

“Wha!” His body sank into the roof. “I’m not even intangible!”

Sidney grabbed him. “You are not falling through the roof.”

“No, dude. I definitely am.”

“No.” The word was definitive, without question. “Close your eyes and say it. ‘I am not falling through the roof.’” The other ghost pulled up.

“I am not falling through the roof?” His feet touched down, solid on the concrete.

“You are not going to fall. You are solid. The roof under you is solid. You won’t fall.” Sidney continued.

He did feel solid…. “I won’t fall.” Danny said confidently.

He opened his eyes, just as his friend let go of him. The half ghost looked down. He dragged one shoe across the surface. “Huh. Solid.”

Beside him, Sidney nodded. “That’s how things work in the Realms for humans. As long as you think something is solid, it is.”

Danny raised a brow. “But if I think it isn’t…” Instantly, his shoes started sinking. “Heh.” He chuckled. But with just a thought, the boy stepped up, his perspective shifting as the ground became solid again. “So humans are the ghosts.”

The other boy nodded. Then his eyes trailed down the halfa’s now human body. “So you can change back and forth.” There was more than a bit of awe to the words. “That was quite a light show, bub.”

“Like my magical girl transformation, huh?” He grinned. “Now. Why did I…” He reached for his pocket. “Right, my phone.”

He swiped the device out of his pocket, alighting the screen with the press of a button. No service of course but… he opened the camera app and pressed on the screen to take a picture. “Nice, it’s working.” Danny took a bunch of photos before swiping to the gallery. “Not too bad.” He gave an appreciative nod. The phone camera couldn’t really capture the vividness of the colors or the real depth of the scene. But it wasn’t bad for a phone camera.

“Whatcha got there?” Sidney leaned over his shoulder. “Jeepers!” The ghostly nerd’s eyes widened comically. “How’d ya do that?”

Danny shrugged. “I just took a picture on my phone.” He held out the device. “Want to see?”

The other ghost eagerly took the device, holding it close to his face, father away, and then back. “Phone… like telephone?”

Danny nodded.

“This is a telephone?! Where’s the cord? The rotary dial? How are you supposed to give your pal a bell?” Sideny turned the device once, twice, before his finger brushed the screen. The image swiped to the next picture, causing Sidney to freeze, startled. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

The halfa laughed. “It’s a touch screen. You just changed the picture.”

His friend unstiffened at the words, eager fingers returning to the screen. “It takes photographs like a camera… but there’s no film. And it’s a telephone.” His voice trembled with awe. “This is like something out of Science Fiction Quarterly.”

“You think that’s impressive,” Danny grinned, full of mirth. “Wait until I tell you about the internet.”

“.... What’s the internet?”

That inquiry led to an hour, at least, of fielding questions. Sidney zipped around the garden, excited and awestruck. Danny chuckled, appreciating his friend's enthusiasm.

“The modern world’s wonders never cease.” The ghostly nerd ran a hand over his hair. He suddenly stopped in his pacing.

“What?” Danny pushed off of the tree he was leaning against, standing fully.

“Can you take a picture of me?” Sidney asked sheepishly.

“Sure.” The half ghost shrugged, pulling the phone out of his pocket. He positioned the device in the air. “Smile.”

The other ghost did so. A few presses of the button and Danny presented the images.

There was Sidney, floating in front of the tiger shrub. His glow blurred the image slightly, his edges fuzzy but…

“Jeepers. That’s amazing.”

“It looks pretty good.” The half ghost shrugged mildly. “Wanna take some pics with me?” He held up the phone, turning the screen towards the pair and…

A flurry of activity. The friends made silly faces at the screen. Danny gave Sidney bunny ears. More pictures of the garden, of the ghostly nerd picking fruit and watering the plants. One from above, the image perking into the courtyard. The empty halls of the school. Outward, facing the open Realms with its purple doors and swirling clouds.

Danny lowered the phone. “Mom and Dad are going to love these.”

Sidney lowered the watering can. “They can visit too, if they want. I do wanna meet them.”

A nod. “Yeah. I was supposed to ask you about that. They’re really excited to pick your brain. Do you want to come over with me after this?”

The other ghost laughed, before shrugging. “Righto! That sounds neat. We’ll fly over after lunch. I want to see all those new fangled personal computers and flat TVs!”

Danny held out his phone, wearing a smirk. “Behold. A new fangled personal computer!”

Sidney rolled his eyes, returning to inspecting one of his vines. “And I can talk to your folks about taking you to the Ghost Writer’s library.”

“Mom, Dad, and Jazz were really excited to learn about that too.” Danny chuckled.

“If Ghost Writer is okay with it, I’m sure they can visit some time too. And my lair too, if they want to see it in person.”

A nod. “They’d like that.” His brow furrowed, a thought tickling his brain. His family actually planning to visit the Realms….

“My parents and sister can’t come through your portal though. We’ll have to figure out how to get here from ours…” Danny turned, surveying the green atmosphere. “Our portal can’t be that far. I did end up here by accident. Let’s see, I came from that direction…”

Danny turned, facing the front of the school and… he breathed, his core pulsing strangely. He couldn’t see anything but…. an odd sound, a humming tickled his core. There was… a pull.

Sidney must have picked up on his odd expression. “What is it?”

The half ghost pointed. “The portal’s…. That way.” He suddenly felt more sure. “Yeah. If I go straight that way… maybe for thirty minutes or so?”

A hand moved to rub his chest. That pull…. He’d felt something like it before, the metaphysical connection between his two halves. This was similar but… dimmer, with a different flavor, on a different wavelength. Danny’s nose wrinkled. “That’s weird, right? I feel like… I just know where it is.”

“It’s not that weird.” The nerd shifted awkwardly in the air, face scrunched up in thought.

There was something to that look…. “What is it?”

Sidney looked down, fiddling with his fingers. “It’s normally taboo to talk about another ghost’s… death unprovoked. But you did tell me some about it… and I have an idea about your portal…”

Danny’s eyes widened, understanding. “Sid, just tell me what you’re thinking. I won’t get upset.” The words earnest and gentle.

“Alright.” The other ghost sighed. “It’s pretty common for a ghost to be linked to their place of death or their grave. And you did say the portal is where you died….”

The half ghost frowned. “Linked? Linked how?”

“Like you can always find your way back, no matter where you are. Or some ghosts can see or hear what is happening there from a distance. Like… hear a loved one talking at their resting place.”

The hestance in those words… “Sidney, are you…”

“Linked to my grave? Yes. And… to my locker.” His voice lowered, arms wrapping around himself.

Danny paled, heart squeezing. The implications there….

The other ghost rubbed his face. “A bully locked me in there, right before spring break. I remember yelling for hours. But no one came. No one cared no matter how much I banged on the door or cried or…” His voice trembled, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. “I had my pocket knife in my front pocket. And it was so stupid but it hurt… everything hurt so much…” For just a second, neon green cuts welled on his wrists, the marks gone in the next blink.

“Sidney…” The half ghost stepped forward, his warm living hand covering his friend's cold ghostly one. “I’m so sorry.”

The nerd rubbed his eyes. “My first life ended too soon but… “ He shrugged. “I’ve got another one and it’s been pretty good. Besides, we were talking about you, not me.”

“Alright… but you can talk to me about it if you want.” Danny paused for a second, then sighing as he accepted Sidney’s nod of acknowledgement. He wasn't going to push… “So… I probably am linked to Mom and Dad’s portal then.”

“That or you’re sensing your lair.” The ghostly nerd’s brow wrinkled. “Are you feeling a pull, like you really want to go there?”

Danny considered. “Maybe?”

“Try transforming. Maybe if you’re a ghost, it will be clearer.”

The halfa obeyed, the rings flickering once before passing over his body. Now in ghost form, he floated off the ground.

“Are you feeling a pull now?”

Danny’s brow furrowed. “It’s… louder?” The hum danced at the edge of his perception. “Like… the line is thicker?” Fishing line as opposed to the previous spider silk. “Line’s not really the right word though. It’s more liquid?” He shook his head. “It feels like someone turned up the contrast on a photo but… no, the pull’s not any stronger.”

“That is strange…” The other ghost rubbed his chin.

The half ghost wanted to roll his eyes. ‘That is strange’… how could Sidney even make sense of what he was trying to describe? It didn’t even make sense to himself.

Instead of commenting, Danny shook his head. “What did finding your lair feel like?”

Sidney looked up. “Well, I woke up floating in the middle of all this green. I was really confused but there was this… pull, in my chest. All I could think about was following it. There was something at the other end, somewhere I needed to go. So I followed and I found the school.”

He definitely wasn’t feeling anything that desperate….

“Maybe your lair is forming but it isn’t done yet.” His friend suggested.

“That’s a possibility?” Danny raised a brow.

The other ghost shrugged. “You’re a halfa. Anything’s possible.”

Said halfa also shrugged. “I guess we should just follow the link and see what happens.”

“It’s as good a plan as any. Now…” Sidney grabbed the basket full of freshly picked fruits and vegetables. “Let’s go eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two enjoyed a meal in the cafeteria, chatting about books and movies. It turned out Sidney was a big fan of science fiction and Danny had just read H.G. Well’s “The Time Machine” for school.

Both full after the delicious lunch and the conversation drawing to a close, Danny stood up. “We should get going.”

The other ghost nodded. Then hurrying to the other end of the room he grabbed a cloth bag. “Here’s some food for later, things from the garden. And….” He presented three glass jars with holes in the top, a bit of soil, and… “That’s a cutting from my tiger shrub. That one’s spotted squa-pump-chini. And midnight arugula. I can show you how to plant them once we get to your portal. They’ll need a bit of water. And lots of talking to. That’s the most important part; they won’t grow unless you tell them they’re doing a good job.”

Danny laughed. “That sounds like something Sam would say.” He’d have to show her these.

“I’m serious. Realms plants are very sensitive to emotions. Feed them some good ones and they’ll be flowering in no time.”

“You got it, boss.” He took the jars, carefully placing them in the bag and the bag on his back.

The pair floated towards the school’s entrance. Sidney pushed the doors open, motioning to the swirling green atmosphere. “After you.”

And with that, the half ghost took off, following the strange hum of the portal through the uncharted Realms and back home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight back to the portal was much less eventful than his last trip. Danny passed that same sideways river. (Revir Syawedis, Sidney said it was called.)

That same floating island, covered in trees. (“Skulker’s island.” The ghostly nerd shivered at the words, hurrying past it.)

A school of now-more-familiar blobs swirled around them, a few approaching to nudge at both boys curiously before darting back to their group.

Sidney scratched one between the eyes, the little things letting out a hum. “Ah. Spotted blobs. Always friendly little guys.”

“Spotted? But they’re all one color?”

“Watch.” Sidney instructed, ectoenergy flickering in his hand. The blob trilled, body flashing with…

“It does have spots.” Danny laughed, eyes crinkling in happiness as the green and purple spotted blob darted back to its school.

The pair continued on, darting past more floating rocks. Above that floating highway the two biker ghosts had driven one. More confusing, twisting masses of stairs.

And barely twenty minutes after leaving Sidney’s lair…

“We’re here.” The almost anxious buzz in Danny quieted at the sight of the floating pillar with the tiny metal frame on top.

It was Sidney’s turn to look amazed. “Your parents made that!”

Danny nodded, flying down to meet the cliff near the bottom. His friend followed. The two circled as they flew up.

“I’ve seen this plateau before. It’s right next to the infinite highway.” The full ghost offered.

It was the same purplish rock as last time, interspersed with hand and foot holds. But…

The halfa blinked. “That wasn’t there before.”

Danny eyed the staircase carved into the rock. He reached out, touching one of the steps. His fingers brushed the surface and… he shrugged, confused core settling. Something about this felt right…

“Danny.” Sidney nudged him, pointing.

There was the outline of a door, carved into the rock. Both reached out to touch….

A cold, electric flicker sparked from the half ghost’s core.

His friend said what Danny was already sensing. “It feels like your aura.”

The feeling radiated…. home, belonging, safety.

Danny smiled. “So it’s a lair in progress, huh?”

He could almost picture the cozy room behind the door….

Dismissing the image, Danny flew up. “It’ll be ready soon.”

Arriving at the top, he landed. His eyes crinkled up, pleased at the little tufts of purple grass, spreading across the bare rock. Or… he drug his shoe across the surface… actually, it was packed dirt.

Sideny eyed the area approvingly. “This will be a great place to plant those cuttings.”

“Once Mom and Dad take a look, yeah.” Thinking of them….

Danny floated forward, approaching the portal. His hand parted the green mist. The action tickled his mind, a reminder of his dream. The place where he died and where he was re-born….

Shoulders relaxing, he flew through.

The boy started calling even before he was through. “Mom! Dad! I’m-”

The clatter of two chairs cut off the word, both adults jumping to their feet and wielding whatever tool they’d been using weapons.

“Home?” Danny finished.

“Oh, Hi sweetie!” Mom dropped the wrench on the table, pulling down her goggles. “And you brought your friend! Sidney, I presume.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The full ghost nodded, offering a hand to shake which the woman accepted.

“Danno!” Dad grinned. “And Sidney!” Another handshake, this time so enthusiastic that the nerd bobbed up and down like a balloon. “Nice to meet you, kiddo!” The adult’s brow furrowed, gaze flickering to the portal. “We really need to make a doorbell for that thing or something.”

“We really should. When we build the doors, we’ll need a way for Danny to open them from the Realms side too.”

“Maybe some kind of DNA lock?” The other adult suggested.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Danny nodded.

“We can discuss it later.” Mom waved off. “And speaking of the Realms…” The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, serious and concerned. “I thought you told us you were coming back through Sidney’s portal, Mister.”

“Yeah. I did…” The halfa shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “But I brought Sidney with me!” He motioned to his friend. “And we found out my lair is forming right under the portal! And!” He swiped the bag off his back. “We brought food from Sid’s garden! And these plant cuttings.” Danny shoved the jar with the tiger shrub cutting forward enthusiastically. “See!”

Dad accepted the jar, studying it with wide eyes. “Check it out, Madds!”

The mother’s gaze flickered to the jar, then back to her son. Her expression softened. “Alright. I’m glad you’re back safe.” She ruffled his hair. “It sounds like you had quite the adventure.”

“Mom!” Danny shrugged away, complaining like any normal teenager.

“Is this one of those new fangled personal computers?!” Sidney interrupted from where he was floating over one of the lab tables. He pointed excitedly, apparently distracted by one of the parents’ inventions.

“Afraid not.” Dad chuckled. “That’s the Fenton Finder!”

“Fenton Finder? What does that do?”

The question was enough to send the man into an excited invention ramble, the full ghost listening intently with wide eyes.

Danny watched for a minute, feeling the warm heaviness of a transformation coming on. He flickered back to human and stretched, his hands reaching over his head. “Man. I flew for a while.” His stomach grumbled. “I need some human food.”

With a word to his friend, Danny started up the stairs.

His mom interrupted. “Have you done your homework yet?”

He paused, eyes widening. “I hadn’t even thought about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I should…. Sid, I’m going to get a quick snack and work on homework for an hour or so. My room’s upstairs if you wanna hang….”

He trailed off, seeing the other ghost wave him off, still intent on the conversation with his parents. Danny blinked. How did this keep happening….

With a silent chuckle, Danny walked up the stairs. His parents getting along with a ghost again… who would have thought?

Note: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! As always, I eagerly await ya'lls' thoughts, especially as this fic wraps up; there's one more chapter after this-already written- and then an epilogue which I only just started on. I'm super-excited at see this all come together. And about my Invisobang story! I am writing a sequel to my first Invisobang fic which was called I am you(and you are me). This new story is set right after D-stabilized. A rough blurb is below. Consumed with worry and scarred after watching Dani almost die, Danny begs her to come home with him and meet Jazz. He wants to see her safe and happy and taken care of so badly. An important reveal also weighs heavy on him – Dani isn’t the only living clone… and the other is him. He needs to tell her the truth; maybe that will convince her to agree to the idea of telling his parents. And she'll stay in Amity Park, by his side where he'll never have to worry if she's safe ever again. Meanwhile, Dani has mixed feelings. She's still reeling from the loss of her clone siblings. Danny’s unexpected worry and care make her uncomfortable in light of that… and her guilt; she did hurt him and help him get kidnapped twice. How can he care about an imperfect, a mistake like her? But having clean clothes and a bed is wonderful and things aren't so simple, after learning that one of his clone brothers is alive. Will Dani accept the help she needs and let herself be loved? Or will she push Danny and Jazz away and run again? There will be lots of sibling fluff and bonding. Misunderstandings and emotional conversations and healing. I'm very excited to share what I've been working on soon!

#Danny Phantom #Face to Face #Double Danny #my fic #Split Danny

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nabtime · 10 months

Text

Our Empty Graves X

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 10: is there anyone out there (cause its getting harder and harder to breathe)

Chapter Summary: Jason has a welcome home party. Danny decides to crash it.

Chapter Notes: title from Harder to Breathe by Letdown. Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11 // Spotify

Danny was at a bit of a loss. Red had allowed him back into Crime Alley. But he also hadn’t seen the guy since floating his way back in. Hadn’t been yelled at or told to leave, though, so he guessed Nadi was right in saying he could. It still felt wrong. Like at any moment he’d be chased out. Nadi had told him multiple times that she’d kick Hood’s ass six ways to Sunday if he said anything about Danny being there, and he appreciated it, but it still felt rude.

It was an eerily similar feeling to trespassing on another ghost’s Haunt.

He felt… conflicted.

On the one hand, Red Hood had taken care of him at one point. Made him food, given him a place to live (to Haunt), and given him something to do. A purpose. Something he’d severely lacked after Amity had emptied out. But then, just as easily as it had been given, Hood had taken it away. Forcibly. Angrily. And Danny didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. Not really. He hadn’t understood most of what Red had yelled at him for- hadn’t a clue who Raysh was- but he could feel the layer of betrayal under it all. The incitement for the anger.

So, on the one hand. Red Hood had hurt him. Deeply. Acting so comfortable around him without his suit and then ripping it all to shreds- the food, the comfort, the camaraderie- before he’d even really gotten to enjoy it. Threw words at him that tore him to pieces. Confirming what he already knew. That he was a monster.

On the other hand. Red Hood had only done that because he thought Danny had betrayed him. Something that seemed to strike deeply within the other man. Something that had already hurt him before. And it didn’t matter, at heart, if Danny had actually betrayed him or not. Just as it didn’t matter that Hood acted without knowing the truth, had lashed out. Because in the end

But was it just that? Just a misunderstanding?

Danny couldn’t tell. He wasn’t keen on finding out, either. The other might have let him back into his territory, but that didn’t mean forgiveness on either side. He couldn’t fathom what the man was thinking and was content (not really) to never find out. He’d follow Nadi, doing whatever she asked of him around the Alley, and avoid Red Hood like the plague. If Hood wanted to talk, then Hood could find him. He glowed well enough for it, it’s not like he was hard to find.

Nadi and the girls were fine enough to watch over. Nadi was a saint for putting up with him. Feeding him. He’d trail after her at night, when she was working the streets, so she had two body guards instead of one- him and Charlie. But during the day he’d pull back to his hide-away in the cemetery. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, and it left him on edge to stay in the Alley for too long. Where once it had started feeling like a Haunt he could settle into, it felt foreign now.

The girls and guys that Nadi hung around, and Danny hung around by extension, weren’t half as good at figuring out his charades, though. Not like Red had been. It was a little disheartening, and even though he could talk using the whiteboard, it still felt like too much of a hassle sometimes. It was a good enough excuse to keep his distance.

And he needed to remember to keep his distance. He couldn’t forget what he was again. It could put them in danger.

So, he drifted. Nothing new. He kept the girls out of trouble and made sure their customers kept in line. Occasionally let Nadi feed him gas station snacks. Took care of any crimes he saw if he knew Hood wasn’t nearby.

It was one of those times he’d been helping someone who was getting mugged by the docks when he’d heard the first explosion.

═════ ◈ ═════

Jason hadn’t known what he was going to walk into after following the instructions on the invitation Harley had given him- but he sure as fuck wished he had.

Fuck the plan, he’d have found another way to snare the stupid clown without having to suffer the indignity of being thrown a welcome home party by the guy who killed him in the first place.

This was so goddamn stupid.

The abandoned carnival grounds near the docks had been the destination- because of course it was. If the freakish funny-man was anything it was certainly on brand. And the ‘party’ was specifically being held in the decrepit fun-house mirror building. Again, because of course it was.

What the fuck was his life? After life?

You know, when Jason had been so enthusiastic about being Robin all those years ago, this was not the shit he’d expected out of the gig. It was supposed to be magic. Supposed to be like flying. Not something that could end so badly with a crowbar and explosives. Nor something that would lead him to the creepiest fun-house imaginable. He was so fucking naive back then.

“Baby Jay!” Harley squealed as he stepped into the building, back tense and gun ready- safety off. She whipped around him, throwing an arm over his shoulders despite the fire-arm so very close to going off near her face. “You made it!”

“Couldn’t miss my own party,” he drawled, using the gun (Mina, this time) to gesture to the large banner hung on the ceiling, just above the entrance to the maze, that said ‘Welcome Home Robin!’ in bright red paint. At least, he fucking hoped it was paint. He didn’t see any obvious bodies, but that didn’t mean there were none. God, he fucking hated murder clowns.

Harley’s grin was sharp as she pulled him into the maze, the gleam on her teeth reflected all around. Her grip around his neck was iron-tight as it pulled him along. He knew this was a fucking trap, knew she’d been lying. But he’d wanted to snatch the clown more than he’d wanted to come up with a better plan. Hadn’t wanted to think it through and plan like he should have. Too distracted by other things. His fingers flexed around the trigger of his gun. If he was going to be an idiot at least he was going to be an armed one.

His eyes tracked their distorted reflections as they moved about the space, Harley knowing which trail to take. He took note of every turn, every dead-end they passed. He’d shoot his way out of the maze if he had to, but he didn’t want to waste bullets.

Sudden cackling rang out as they stepped into a large room within the maze, Joker’s image reflected from every angle as the green menace spread his arms out, bent party hat nearly falling off his head. He could hear the strains of crackling circus music under the laugh. Streamers of red, green, and yellow were hung haphazardly, making the space more confusing as they were reflected in the mirrors in every direction.

“The guest of honor!” Joker crowed, grin just as manic as Jason remembered. Red splattered across his face. Blood or paint? “Welcome home, little birdie!”

And suddenly, Jason wasn’t as prepared for this confrontation as he thought he was. This was the first time he’d seen the Joker since his resurrection. Since he’d died. And he was surrounded on all sides, the grin that haunted his nightmares coming from every direction. The phantom pain of broken bones and cracked ribs twinged as he could see nothing but that crowbar coming at him over and over and over again. The memory of demented laughter ringing out as he was beaten, slowly entwined with the real deal as Harley took advantage of his distraction.

He wasn’t quick enough when Harley’s grip around his neck shifted and grew tighter. Choking him out until everything went black and the grasp on his gun went slack.

═════ ◈ ═════

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his core. This wasn’t your run of the mill explosion disturbing the peace of Gotham. He needed to go faster. To fly.

An unknown panic filled his chest as he tried to take flight, clumsy arms pinwheeling as his feet tried to lift off the ground with no success. Flying had always been one of the harder powers for him to master and even now, six years dead, he had trouble. He’d only ever been able to manage a fast hover or a higher than humanly possible jump. Low flight or a glide.

Right now he couldn’t even lift off the asphalt of the road as he ran toward the roaring fire, the dread like a pit in his soul keeping him grounded and growing worse with every failed lift off. He needed to be faster. He needed to be there already. Someone was dying.

Someone was dying.

═════ ◈ ═════

He woke up in the same room not long after Harley knocked him out, tied to a chair that had been placed on a pedestal in the middle- his mirror image reflected a thousand times around him. His helmet had been removed and even the domino underneath. Not like it mattered when both Harley and Mr. Pudding knew who he was. He could feel the irritating pinch of cheap string around his head. They’d taken the time to give him a fucking party hat. Great.

He tested the rope, his muscles feeling lax and hard to work with while he did it. They’d drugged him. Nothing intense, as far as he could tell. Muscle relaxer, maybe? He didn’t like it. The rope was also unforgiving- wound tight and chafing. The portion tied around his wrists was irritating against his skin- his gloves long gone- and he could tell that if it stayed cinched much longer he’d start loosing circulation.

“You know,” came the drawl of Joker’s voice, echoing around the mirrors with the clown himself nowhere to be seen. “You took such a long time coming back, that I almost thought you never would!”

“Were you betting on it?” Jason spat, words slightly slurred from his jaw feeling loose. Everything felt heavy, like he was being weighted down. At least he was still cognizant. At least it wasn’t Joker gas.

“No, actually,” he said, sounding disappointed. “But what a fun thing to add to the Arkham betting pool.”

“What do you want with me?” Jason asked, tugging at his restraints again. If he kept the clown talking, he could distract him long enough to get free and beat the shit out of him like he’d planned. Probably.

“Not as talkative as you used to be now that you’re a zombie, huh?” Joker said, voice still ringing out and bouncing around the mirrors of the room, making Jason feel slightly dizzy. Which was likely the point. “Straight to the point, no time for chit-chat.”

“Maybe you’re just a shit conversationalist.”

“My, my,” he tutted, “little birdie’s got a dirty mouth now. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

It didn’t sound like his voice was coming from a speaker, but it was loud enough that the clown should be in the room with him. Maybe around a corner? He couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from, only that it kept circling. And circling.

“Get to the fucking point.”

“Well,” the Joker started, sighing dramatically, scratchy voice grating on Jason’s last nerve. “I’ve noticed that the big ol’ Bat has been taking an interest in you and, honestly, I’m a bit jealous!”

“Gross,” the response slipped out before he’d even realized. He could hear Harley giggling before a smacking sound rang out and he heard her quietly say, “sorry puddin’.”

Oh, he was gonna wring that clown’s fucking neck. He was gonna turn that bastard into a squeaky toy, punch him over and over to see what fun noises he would make next.

“Anyway,” Joker continued, growl to his tone that wasn’t there before. “I figured- I take you out and Batsy has more time to focus on other things.”

“Like you?”

“Like me.”

Again, gross.

“Don’t think I didn’t know you wanted your pound of flesh from me, either. I just decided to go on the offensive about this instead of defensive. Take initiative. Be proactive. Get ahead of the game.”

He was going to have to dislocate something to get out of these binds and he didn’t have the strength to do it while he was drugged like this. Fuck. He was so fucking stupid. If he hadn’t been so damn distracted lately, he wouldn’t have made so many mistakes like this. He needed to get it together already before he got himself killed again.

“And, you know,” Joker continued, “I was thinking, and thinking… and thinking- of some creative new way to kill you…” he trailed off, and Jason could hear footsteps but he still couldn’t see the clown. Just his own reflection, fear mirrored back at him a thousand times.

“But then I thought-,” and then the lights went out and he couldn’t see anything and suddenly he could feel something hovering over his shoulder and he did not like where this was going.

And then the Joker’s voice was right behind him, crooning with delighted malice, “if it ain’t broke!”

There was a whistling noise.

The crowbar came down hard with a crack! against his jaw.

“Don’t fix it!”

He toppled to the floor, still tied to his chair, his left side taking the brunt of the fall where he couldn’t brace himself. He could feel his skull bounce off the concrete. His lungs were constricting with panic. His mouth was filling with blood. Not again, not again.

“Also,” the Joker cackled, the lights in the maze flickering on just in time to watch him bring the crowbar down on Jason’s hands. “How fun is it that I get to murder you twice!”

Pain bloomed in his wrists and his fingers. Broken bones. Bruises. Blood.

“If I had a nickle for every time I’ve killed a Robin-,” Joker mused, stopping to tap the crowbar menacingly against the chair, “well, I wouldn’t exactly be rich but I’d definitely have more nickles than before!”

He watched the crowbar. Up and down. And tap. Tap. Tap. With every word it would thunk against the wood- dangerously close to his already broken hands.

Joker reared back and even though Jason could see it coming it still felt like a shock when he was kicked in the stomach.

Everything hurt. New wounds and old. Phantom pains from the first time he was beaten near to death by this man were making themselves known.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

The mirrors were starting to blur in and out of vision, flashes of the warehouse from before overtaking his sight. Everything was jumbling together in a mess of pain and uncaged fear and his lungs were straining against his ribs and his heart was beating so, so fast and he was gonna die again. He was gonna die.

He wanted Bruce.

The crowbar came down again. And again. Blood splattered the mirrors. Pooled on the concrete.

It was harder for the Joker to beat him while he was still tied to the chair but that didn’t stop him from hitting every inch he could get. All along his right side, blow after blow. And the whole time he was laughing.

Laughing and laughing and laughing.

Wack!

And Jason couldn’t breathe.

Wack!

Where was Bruce? Why wasn’t he here? Why wasn’t he here to save him? Batman always saved him.

Wack!

He wanted his dad.

“That should do it.” Jason could barely hear the Joker’s voice, faded and distorted as it sounded to his ears. He heard the clatter of metal falling to the ground. “Ta, little birdie! Have fun being dead again!”

“Oh, by the by,” he could only just hear the man, smug glee lacing his tone. “I’ve rigged up several bombs this go around. Expanding on a good idea and all that. Gotta make sure you don’t come back this time!”

The sound of feet tapping away, growing fainter and fainter. Leaving him with nothing but the roaring sound of his own heartbeat and the wet, ragged, desperate pull of air into his lungs.

He was going to die here. All over again. He could already feel the lick of fire crawling over him, the smoke choking him and scratching his throat, the pain of bones snapping as he was flung through the air. The sharp burst of pain that meant his skull was getting crushed.

He could hear the sound of ticking. A countdown. A bomb.

Maybe this time it’d be faster. Maybe this time the explosion would take him out instantly. Maybe this time there would be nothing left to bury.

Maybe this time he’d stay dead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce watched the wreckage from the screen of the Bat-Jet, scanning the drone footage that Alfred had sent him of the latest explosion to rock Gotham and her people. He was already traveling as fast as he could to get back to his city, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was too late. Like he’d failed, even though he couldn’t say way.

Something was wrong and it set a cold pit in his stomach to think that one of his children might have been caught up in whatever new trouble this was. Whether it be Tim or Dick or… Jason. He couldn’t stand to loose another soldier.

And then he saw it, on the edge of the camera, the mysterious meta that had been working with Red Hood around the Alley.

Just standing on the edge of the flames. Suspicious.

He closed out of the footage and focused on getting back as fast as possible.

═════ ◈ ═════

Danny made it to the docks and stopped. Everything was on fire. Everything was wrong. Something was crying out in pain, something that tugged at his core. Something familiar. Something dying.

He broke out into a wild sprint, core leading him in a certain direction. He followed without hesitation. There was no sound but the roar of the fire and the crunch of glass under his boots. There was nothing he could see but flame and smoke and splintered beams. There was nothing he could feel but overwhelming heat and panic.

Where?

He listened. Nothing. He crept forward. Which direction? His core was no longer helpful. Just screaming.

Where?

He listened. Nothing. He turned. There was nothing but fire, and fire, and smoke. And rubble.

Where?

He listened. Nothi- There. Something- digital? Like a clock. Like a counter. Like another bomb. Like what had likely caused the first explosion. It started ticking faster and his heart matched the frantic beat. He had to find them. Now.

He moved forward through the debris, intangible, and searched.

There was broken glass everywhere. Reflective, like mirror shards, it made it all the harder to navigate the space. Fire danced in every direction, sometimes a mirage, sometimes real. Danny continued to sweep through it all, searching and searching. The beeping was getting louder. He needed to go faster, but he couldn’t risk missing the one he was searching for in the first place.

He felt like he was melting.

He moved forward again- there. His core cried out. He’d found them.

They looked broken. The remains of what was likely a chair they’d been tied to was strewn across the small patch of concrete, the legs and back of it still pressed against them with charred rope. There was a broad beam of wood, caught on one of the walls that was still standing, that looked like it’d shielded them from the roof coming down.

They were surrounded by a pool of blood and Danny didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t it dangerous to move people with certain injuries? If they were bleeding would moving them exacerbate the blood loss enough to kill them? Would any of that matter if the second bomb went off while they were still here?

They were still breathing, at least.

As gently as he could, even phasing his arms into the ground to maneuver without jostling them. One arm to brace the back, one arm under the knees. He got a good grip on them. Turned them both intangible. Then booked it.

Their body was large, too large, too awkward to carry. Their blood dripped down to the ground with every step, flying behind them and splattering against the concrete and mirror shards. The fire did not touch them, even if it felt like the heat was trying to devour them both. Smoke smothered everything. Without having to stop and search the area like he had before, Danny made good time fleeing the building and the area in general. He’d have continued to run to a hospital but the blood that slicked his hazmat was too concerning. He needed to patch them up first. Somehow.

The blanket Nadi had given him was phased into his stomach for safekeeping. As were multiple knives to cut it with.

He needed to find a place-

A loud BANG! sounded and Danny braced them both.

The bomb had gone off behind them, the blast sending wood and concrete and glass raining in every direction. The fire roared louder. The wind from the blast whirling past them in a concussive force. He kept them intangible until it passed. He pulled the other into an alleyway that just edged the docks, the noise of it burning being dampened. Like a pocket of safety. Or so Danny hoped.

He laid them down and pulled a knife, cutting the rope around their chest and wrists and legs and freeing them from the leftover chair pieces.

Their hands looked the worst off. Crooked and dark with bruises. Bleeding, but sluggishly at least. Slowing, stopping.

Right arm looked broken, leaking red too. He pulled the blanket out and cut a strip off to wrap it. Anything to stem some bleeding. He didn’t dare touch the hands. Pants were torn and scratched but nothing looked bad underneath. No gaping chest or back wounds but their breathing was rapid. Danny then remembered that smoke inhalation was a thing and tore off his breathing apparatus and the tank that connected it.

He didn’t know what being infused with ectoplasm would have done to the oxygen within it, but here’s hoping it would be fine.

He gently rolled them, noticing more blood was pooling around their neck. Shit. But then it looked like a wound from the jaw not the jugular. He balled up another slice of blanket and pressed it to the underside of their chin. He fumbled with the mask with one hand to put it over their mouth.

And then he noticed who he was treating.

Red Hood.

His hands trembled, mixed emotions entangling in his core, but he didn’t stop.

He placed the mask over his face, noticing that this was the first time he’d seen it completely bare. His domino was missing. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about anything except what was practical. (Not about his hands, completely mangled. Not about the blood, so so much of it. Not about any of the grief trying to well up inside him, churning like a building storm.) He fit the mask and moved the strap of it so it was holding the blanket in place, leaving his hands free.

He couldn’t take Hood to the hospital, especially not without a domino. But he needed someone. He’d taken Red to someone for medical attention before. He’d try the clinic again. Ancients, he hoped that doctor Leslie lady was still there.

Hood coughed, rough, body jerking with the motion. His eyes blinked hazily and a low groan escaped his throat before his eyelids fluttered closed again.

His eyes were very blue.

They opened again for a moment, staring at nothing, and Danny could see the man trying to say something. He leaned in close but heard nothing. Danny moved back, assuming that Hood had maybe become delirious with anemia. He couldn’t blame the guy, he’d be a hypocrite otherwise.

A low whine reached his ears and he paused to sweep a hand through Red’s hair to offer a moment of comfort. He couldn’t do much, but he hoped it would calm him for the time being. His aching core might not handle it otherwise.

He wrapped Hood up as much as he could and balanced the man and the tank in his arms before lurching to his feet with them both in tow. He really hoped he could remember the way correctly. The blood may not be flowing as bad, but he still wanted the man treated as quickly as possible.

So Danny, as quickly as he could manage, set off to find Dr. Leslie.

═════ ◈ ═════

Jason’s entire body felt like lead. Heavy, weighed down. Like there was a current running over his body that had sunk to the bottom of a river.

He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He would know. He’d absolutely been hit by a truck before.

This might be worse though.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. Didn’t want to face the world. Didn’t want to fully remember the latest fuck up that had knocked him on his ass. Joker’s laugh was already haunting him, he didn’t need it back in surround sound.

He was so certain that he was going to die. Again. Because he was a dumb-ass that fell into traps too easily with no backup and a foolhardy plan to out villain the villain in order to get what he wanted. And now, here he was, back to square one with nothing to show for his efforts except a broken- basically everything.

Great.

Question now was- how did he survive? He didn’t remember getting out of there on his own. He didn’t remember getting out of there at all. Maybe he was dead? But this didn’t feel like dying had last time.

(Dying hadn’t really felt like anything at all, not once the pain ended. Or, maybe, he didn’t have a memory of anything else after that. Had he gone to an afterlife? All he knew was that once second he was dying in a warehouse and the next he was waking up in a grave. This didn’t feel half as suffocating as the coffin.)

The only way to answer that would be to open his eyes. Dammit. Fuck.

Someone else was in the room.

He could hear them breathing. Steady. Slow. Someone else had been in the room with him while he was out and injured, which made him tense. But they also seemed to be asleep, which was confusing more than anything. He’d have to open his eyes to even try to guess who it was though. Which he hated. He’d nearly blown up again, the world should be nicer to him. He waited a bit longer, listening to the steady breathing from what sounded like the corner of a small room, before his curiosity (paranoia) finally got the better of him.

He blinked open his eyes, however reluctantly, and braced himself for a blinding light that never came. The room he was in was dim and small. And recognizable. The little sectioned off back room in Leslie’s clinic. Huh.

But who was-

He sucked in a surprised breath that made his lungs ache, making him cough and then groan when that made his ribs twinge. And his jaw ache. Jesus fuck he was a mess.

And Fetcher was there, awake and watching, hovering on the edge of his vision, unmasked face pinched in worry.

“Fuck are you doing here?”

The words came out harsher than he meant, and he regretted them wholly when it made Fetcher reel back and close in on himself. Fuck. He was horrible at this kind of thing. He should apologize, he knew that. But the words were so hard to say and he still wasn’t convinced that he should. That it wouldn’t be better for Fetcher to stop coming anywhere near him. All he did was hurt the guy. It’s all he would ever do.

Fetcher shrugged, small and skittish.

“I hurt you,” he said, not knowing what else to say but the obvious. He was still just so baffled by why the other man was here. Why he’d gone through the effort to save him. Why he’d stayed.

Fetcher looked at him then, pale green eyes heavy in their stare. He tilted his head in a little nod of acknowledgment but otherwise stayed unmoving. Tense and waiting, crossed arms resting across a blood-stained suit. Jason winced at the sight.

“But you saved me?” he asked, uncertain.

Another nod. Another small shrug.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, fire roaring in the memory that immediately came back to haunt him. The pain. The explosion. The jeering laugh of the mad clown that had gotten the better of him again. Tricked him so easily. He was so fucking stupid for falling for his traps again. He should have known his plans would fall through, no matter how meticulous he’d been. Self-sabotage. Because he was arrogant and impulsive and a moron. Just like he’d always been. Just like Batman had always though him to be.

And Fetcher had risked himself for his dumb ass. Had been yelled at and hurt by him and still braved the clown and explosions and a burning dock to save him. He should never have put himself in danger like that. Not for Jason. He wasn’t nearly worth it.

“That was dangerous,” he told him, keeping his eyes closed to avoid having to look the other man in the eye. “You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk like that.”

He took a heavy breath, a cough threatening in his throat from the action.

“You should have just let me die.”

And then he felt a smack to his chest and opened startled eyes to find Fetcher looming over him, angry and glaring with the slight sheen of tears threatening to fall. He pointed a stern finger in Jason’s face (and he couldn’t help but notice it was tipped with a small sharp claw) and smacked him again, lightly, to get his point across.

“Why do you care?” he asked, confused beyond anything why this angel of a man would do anything for him after the things Jason had done and said.

═════ ◈ ════

Danny leaned back after he made sure Red knew he wouldn’t stand for that kind of talk. Not from Hood. And he thought about his question.

That was the thing, though, wasn’t it? Why did he care? Because he sure as hell seemed to care more than just a cursory sense of obligation to not let someone die. Despite the fact that Hood had been an absolute asshole back in the dojo. Despite everything- he cared.

It was in the way he’d made Danny food. In the way he’d taken care of him. Made him feel human again, even if only for a moment. In the way he’d pester Danny to eat and sleep and patch him up when he got hurt. It was in the way he cared. About everyone in the Alley. The way he checked in on the girls so often. The way he brought food and blankets to the shelters so often. The way he tolerated playing with the Alley kids even when he was busy. It was in the way he talked about the changes he planned to bring to Gotham. To make it better. Make it livable for everyone. In how many people he wanted to help that way.

Yes, he murdered people. Yes, he was a Crime Lord. Yes, he could be a bit of a dick.

But he was earnest in his efforts to make the Alley, and Gotham at large, a safe place for innocents. He was a man made of compassion underneath it all. Made of strong convictions and strong emotion. Sometimes that emotion was anger and it overwhelmed him and he lashed out because of it. And yes, he’d lashed out at Danny, but Danny was nothing if not a glutton for punishment and if it meant having Red’s homemade soup again- he’d save the man any day.

He couldn’t exactly say any of that though.

So he simply stepped forward and smiled, small and tired and gave Red another shrug. Then he thought about it a bit and brought a finger to the other man’s chest, tapping the area where his heart was, reveling in the confused look it bought him.

“My heart?” Red asked slowly. “Do you… want it?”

Danny tilted his head in question, now also perplexed.

“Like to eat or something?”

He had to take a deep breath and turn away, shoulders shaking from the laughter he was trying to keep down. Red thought he saved him, that he cared- because he was saving his heart to snack on?! Why? What the fuck? What the hell kind of life experiences had this man had for that to be a reasonable conclusion?

He got himself under control and turned back around to see Hood giving him a bemused smile. It was a nice smile.

He huffed a bit and waved his hand in order to refute Red’s previous idea of cannibalism. Because really. He thought about it, how to convey everything he was thinking. Everything that made Hood a good man at his core.

He pointed at Red. You. And then he held up a hand, flat with his palm facing inward and his fingers touching his chin and pulled it away in a decisive, forward motion. It was one of the few signs he’d been taught so far. Good. And then he tapped Red’s chest again and could almost feel the beating under his fingers. Heart.

Red scrunched his nose and shook his head. “I do not. And that’s way too fucking cheesy a reason anyway.”

Danny rolled his eyes and smacked Hood for what felt like the tenth time already since he’d woken up.

Red smiled before it dropped. He looked up past Danny and toward the ceiling, staring at nothing with a grim look on his face. Danny couldn’t even begin to guess what he was thinking about.

“I was stupid,” Hood murmured. “All I’ve been since I got back is stupid. I never should have fallen for Joker’s trap. Never should have been so blind to what he was up to.”

Of course it was the Joker that Hood had nearly gotten blown up by. Danny fucking hated clowns for a reason and the Joker was just one of them. He watched as Hood raised a heavily bandaged hand in an attempt to comb it through his hair, only to pull back and stare blankly at the mitten of gauze and wrap that enveloped both hands. He accepted his fate with a sigh, weary and broken and Danny wanted so badly to fix it, but he couldn’t. All he could do was watch.

“But I needed him. Still need him. He’s the center of the question, here. The crux of the whole problem,” Red kept talking, low and mumbling and Danny was certain that he wasn’t talking to him anymore. But he wasn’t about to stop listening.

“I underestimated how much it would affect me- seeing him again for the first time. I should have handled that better.”

Danny could see blood seeping into the bandages around his hands, likely from Hood agitating his own wounds for whatever reason. He reached out and caught one of the hands between his own, tapping at the edge where the wrapping stopped in a bid to remind Hood of what he was doing and to stop hurting himself.

“You don’t understand-,” Hood gritted out. “I need that fucker dead. I won’t let him murder anyone else.”

Hood closed his eyes, but Danny still saw the pain within them.

“I should have been the line. My death should have been the line.”

And Danny froze.

No. No, he couldn’t be- He didn’t feel like a ghost. Or a halfa, even. But sometimes… No. There was no way. It was so faint. You couldn’t be a third of a ghost or whatever and he didn’t set off Danny’s ghost sense at all and- he was getting far too ahead of himself. He didn’t even know what Red Hood meant. Maybe he’d gone into cardiac arrest before. Been only medically dead for a few minutes. No ghostly business involved.

But he had to make sure.

He leaned over Red where he was still reclined back in the bed Doctor Leslie had ordered Danny to place him. Bruised and bloody and broken. Almost dead a second time.

He held the man’s head between his hands, solemn as he searched for- for something. Red didn’t say a word, just let it happen, eyes opening and trying to catch Danny’s- question what he was doing without interrupting. And Danny just looked into bright, bright blue and- there was a thin sliver of green. Ectoplasm green. Barely there and barely noticeable. But there all the same.

He pulled back and made Red focus on him. On his stare. All the while lifting a hand and turning it intangible to plunge into the other’s chest. If he was a ghost, or a half ghost, or a quarter ghost, he should have something of a core. Even if it was hiding.

Hood gasped and sputtered and coughed and tried to fight off Danny’s arm with useless hands. But Danny kept his soft grip on the uninjured side of Red’s face and brought his forehead down to rest on Hood’s, trying to calm him. It shouldn’t hurt- just feel weird. But he hadn’t exactly given the other a warning.

He felt Red shiver underneath him, the feeling of a ghost running a cold hand through your chest was never a pleasant sensation, but it was necessary.

He didn’t feel anything at first, waving a hand through Red’s chest, slowly combing through muscle and organ and bone and blood. He didn’t have much experience looking for a core, especially not in one currently still living, but he was letting his instincts drive him. He needed to know.

And then he felt it.

It wasn’t a core, not quite. Not so ghostly but definitely of the dead. It was half-formed and weak and felt like poison. It pulsed feebly when his fingers brushed over it a chorus of anger fear rage pain betrayal betrayal betrayal rang out from the touch.

He pulled back, just enough to take his arm out of Red’s chest and let him breathe, but not enough that he left the bedside. He let Hood take in ragged breaths, coughing and heaving from smoke inhalation damage (he regretted it for that, but not enough to have stopped his search). When it looked like the other had calmed down and was about to question just what the hell Danny had done, he held up a hand.

He pointed at Red. You. He slid a finger across his own throat. Died. And tilted his head to the side to turn it into a question, even though he knew the answer.

“Yes,” Hood said, voice rougher and raspier than before, tight from the cough and likely sore throat. “I died, Fetch.”

Danny stared down at the man, debating on what to say. Red’s eyes searched his own, blue that looked deeper in the dim lighting but he didn’t say anything either. Just let the quiet sit between them for a moment.

Eventually, Danny lifted and hand and pointed towards himself. I. He slid a finger across his throat. Died. He held up two fingers. Too.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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murphy-kitt · 2 years

Text

hourglass of lies - Day 2/3 Dannymay

Time is running out.

Danny can’t help the dread in his stomach that grows deeper as the end of high school draws near. The fact that he might not even graduate with how awful his grades are barely even scratches the surface.

It’s college.

Away from Amity, his haunt. Who’ll protect the city from ghost invasions if he’s not there? His parents, as much as he loves them, are better at creating the weapons than actually using them. Valerie? Too trigger friendly with a gun. One wrong shot and it’s over.

Away from everyone he knows, loves. Who he was once close to before the portal accident shattered everything.

Once college begins, he’ll most likely never see them again. Why would Sam and Tucker want to remain in contact when he’s done nothing but given them hapless excuses in the past three years?

“Well…this is it.” He takes a deep breath, hovering awkwardly outside the classroom which Sam and Tucker normally inhabit every lunchtime. Even though the corridors are vacant of prying eyes, Danny still feels embarrassment rise in his stomach.

Come on, Fenton. You can do it.

“I can totally do this.” Danny chants in some attempt at reassurance, grasping the door handle, “I can totally tell my friends my biggest secret that I’ve never told anyone else.”

Because that’s the only option he really has — if he wants to save this friendship.

With another resigned breath, he tugs at the door, winging it wide open. On the other side, Sam and Tucker whip around, faces cast with shock before they drop in awkward grimaces.

“Mind if I join you?” He trails off awkwardly, arms hugging his chest at Sam’s disapproving expression.

He can’t blame her. Three years of silence and now he wants to talk.

“Yes.” she says, voice like ice.

Tucker shifts uncomfortably beside him as Danny sits down across from the two and fumbles with his hands awkwardly.

"I'm--"

"Sorry? Danny, just--don’t. You've apologised enough over the years. But you never told us why." Sam sighs, placing her arms on her lap.

His former friends' expressions read enough. They’re fed up.

So am I.

“And then you started drifting…and we didn’t know why. Was it us? Are you in something bad?” questions Tucker, although his expression reads as if he’s not expecting an actual answer. Another bunch of lies.

“No! No!” Danny shakes his head, “It was never you guys. Always me.”

“If it’s not us, then what is it?”

Sam pushes, gaze hardening.

Danny flinches beneath the scrutiny. All the boundaries he's built over the years, they'll all be gone. The first people to know who he truly is.

"Depending how you look at it...I did get into something bad. When we were fourteen." He stutters, choosing to look at the table instead of their wary gazes.

"What-what do you mean?" responds Sam, a sliver of concern seeping into her tone. Her eyes narrow, "Something bad? What was it?"

"Remember when my parents built the--they built the ghost portal?"

"What?! Dude, you're terrified of the things!" outbursts Tucker, confusion scrawling on his face as he intertwines his fingers, "I--I don't get how those two relate."

Of course. They’ve both fallen for the pitiful facade of him being scared of ghosts. Ironic, in a way.

Silence fills the tension as Danny wonders how to even explain. How does he even begin to explain that he’s moonlighting as the town's ghostly hero? And, yknow, died.

“It’s gonna be over soon… high school. Everyone’s going away.” The teenager mumbles, ignoring the clearly confused looks on his former friend's faces.

“Is this what it’s always been about…the future?” Sam considers, tilting her head.

He only shrugs.

“Well once college starts…I just hope Amity can stay safe.”

“We’ll have Phantom, though.” remarks Tucker, pushing his glasses up his face.

I wish. If only I could stay.

“Phantom...” Danny drifts off, deep in a haze of thought, “I wonder what’ll happen if I stay from Amity for too long.”

His core feels heavy in his chest, like it already knows the answer. But he can’t just stay cooped up here forever, no matter how much the ghost side might want too. Ectoplasm zaps through his veins at the slightest indication of his obsession.

“Danny?” Sam hesitates, her voice funny.

He snaps out of the trance.

Oh, right.

“Yeah?” He stares at his friends, unable to miss the way their faces blanch with what…horror? Quickly, Danny checks his hands, making sure he hasn’t accidentally transformed.

Still the same pallid, cold human skin.

Then what is it?

“What’s the weird stare for?” He licks his lips, feeling strangely vulnerable under their suspicious looks. Three years ago, it never would’ve been like this.

Suddenly, Sam’s hands clamp to his shoulders, tugging him forward as he suppresses a yelp.

Terror jolts inside him. They’ve figured it out haven’t they? Even without the transformation after all this time, they’ve figured it out. Or maybe they knew the whole time and never got the chance to say.

Either way, what’ll follow won’t be pretty.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—“

“Get out of our friend!—“ Sam cuts him off furiously, her voice fiery as she rattled his skinny frame, “You say you’re a good ghost— and this whole time you’ve been overshadowing Danny. Three. Whole. Years! No wonder he’s never been himself.”

“Get out of him—” grits Tucker, in the angriest tone he’s ever heard as he displays his PDA, “—or I won’t be afraid to ship you off to the Fenton’s.”

Some sort of weird pride bubbles in Danny’s chest. Even after all this..mess..they’re still willing to stand up for him, to fight for him.

It’d be great…if they weren’t currently thinking he was overshadowed by himself.

I do wonder what made them suddenly snap, though?

“You don’t get it!” He stammers, trying to wrestle out of Sam’s iron like grip as she glares at him. The goth doesn’t say anything, just simply stares at her. Revolt scarred upon her face, such a deep hatred buried in her eyes.

He imagines it upon her face when she finds out the truth. Who he really is.

“What – we don’t get how you’ve been using our friend as a human meat puppet for the last three years?!” snaps Tucker as he frowns and point towards his eyes, “We’ve caught you. You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? But no. Danny’s eyes are blue. Not green. ”

“You really have to wonder how the Fentons missed it. Ghost hunters. Their own son, controlled by—“ Sam speaks, addressing Tucker before staring icily back at Danny, “—a parasite.”

“Trust me, I wonder that too.” He quips automatically, unable to stop the words flowing back. If Danny was able to, he’d facepalm.

Seconds pass, the grip on his shoulders tighten. Tucker begins typing a combination of numbers on his PDA — a familiar number. The Fenton’s.

“No!”

“What? Desperate now that you’ve been caught, Phantom?” Sam spits.

Danny shakes his head. Anxiety piles on his chest as the secrets prepare to uncoil. There’s no choice — this is it.

Three years.

“I’m Phantom!” He blurts, ignoring the ‘ duh ’ expressions from the other teens, “I’m Danny, too! I’m the same! Danny Fenton — Danny Phantom. Don’t you see?”

From the way Sam releases his shoulders on how Tucker gapes like a goldfish, Danny doubts they’ve ever seen the similarities between the two names. Or rather, they’re more shocked at the confession. Or both.

Silence overcasts the room, Sam full of tension, as if she expects something ghostly to happen at any given point. Tucker simply remains subdued, his eyes misty.

Finally, he speaks.

“You’re—you’re dead.”

“Uh…” Danny hesitates, hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Lies upon lies torrent in his mind, a familiar routine to barricade himself away from prying eyes.

“The truth.” Sam’s eyes narrow as Tucker subsequently nods.

Sighing, Danny only nods in response, bracing as the halo of light appears around his waist. There’s an instinct to run and hide, after all, he’s never transformed in front of anyone before.

“I’m sorry that I never told you. But I had to – before I lost you guys forever in college.” He swallows nervously, not oblivious to the shocked gasps as the rings wash up the rest of his body.

“The—you.” Tucker rambles, before quieting, “You died.”

He winces, “Yup. Noted, thanks.”

“God, Danny.” Sam reached forward and places a hesitant on his shoulder, as if he’s not real, “When? What? How?”

”When I was fourteen. Electrocution.” he states, but doesn’t clarify. Thankfully, Sam and Tucker don’t ask him to elaborate— a relieving contrast to the amount of citizens who demand to know how he died.

“The whole time we pushed and pushed you to tell us, it was because you’d fucking died. Why’d—why’d you let us Danny? Why? You shouldve said something. We could've helped.” hiccups Sam, her eyes misty with guilt.

She regrets snapping at me. But Danny can’t blame her for past actions. He’d never told them and deliberately avoided them time and time again. A ticking time bomb before it finally ended and both his best friends ended up sitting in a separate classroom to eat lunch.

“Well…I’ve told you now. No going back on that.” He shakes his head, a small smile his face despite their upset ones, “And I’m glad I did. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know — and I was too scared to say anything.”

”But the whole…dead thing.” Tucker lisps, apparently having not processed it yet, “Your parents— they hunt you! Dude you died and didn’t say anything.”

”Well technically I’m only half dead.” shrugs Danny, as if it’s the most casual thing on the planet. Another set of shocked looks from Sam and Tucker follow.

”Half? How only half?” exclaims Tucker, “Dude! I mean it’s better then being fully dead…but still.”

”And he’s right.” inputs Sam, “Your parents hunt you, Danny.”

”Well see, that’s what I was going to do next.” Danny hesitates, looking down at his feet. Telling his parents will be another hurdle, but this time he’ll have his friends with him.

”But I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

”We’ll be there.” affirms Sam, a smile on her face, “So much has happened already, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start again.”

”We’ll be there.” smiles Tucker, “And if they do reject you, then you know we’ll be having none of it.”

Smiling, Danny chuckles.

”Thanks guys. I don’t know how I did it without you.”

A tiny nagging echoes in his head. What couldve happened if he’d told them, way back when? How would things have been different?

But he shouldn't dwell on what could've been, on decision that’ve already been made in the past.

Because now there’s a new future to look forward to — with both best friends by his side.

#danny phantom #dannymay 2022 #dannymay2022 #sam manson #tucker foley #no one knows au #college days #identity reveal

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

Text

Fenton Fact

Danny leaned back against the red brick chimney of the Casper High roof, and he looked across the stretch of land rolling far off from the building top. For a place so off-limits, so hidden-away from the normal bustle of the school, the view really wasn’t anything special. Sure, the school was decently tall, but it overlooked the staff parking lot, and the empty Casper High tennis courts, and the back of a strip mall two blocks over with the recently-haunted laundromat.

Not that it mattered. It took more than tall-building-views to impress Danny anyway, even the nice ones. And he wasn’t up here for the view.

Danny let his eyes drift shut.

“Sup loner, room for one more?”

Danny startled, and it wasn’t Sam’s voice specifically that startled him. (He’d grown used to her bursting from his Fenton Phone earpiece during most nightly patrols.) He’d just lulled himself a bit too comfortably into the idea that no other human could follow him to the top of the locked rooftop of the Casper High building.

“Did I just surprise a ghost?” Sam asked. “Should I do it again with a ‘boo’?”

“Haha,” Danny answered with a fake chuckle. He blinked himself back to prickly awareness, drowsiness batted away like dust bunnies, and stared up at Sam. “I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be on the roof. How did you even—”

Sam was a few steps ahead of him. In explanation, she waggled the Fenton-branded grappling hook gripped in hand.

Danny leaned back with a faux-exasperated sigh. “Since when do you even have a grappling hook?”

“Since I told your mom it would be a wildly cool line of gear to add to the Fenton brand.”

“Does this mean my mom now has a grappling hook too?”

“Yes. And your dad. And Jazz. And Tucker.”

“Great. When I go home and all the ceiling fans are torn down I’ll know why.”

A gentle silence lapsed over them, punctuated with the swell of fall wind.

“So…” Sam continued. “Can I sit here?”

“Huh?” Danny looked at her, anchoring his drifting thoughts once more. “Oh, yeah. I thought the ‘yeah’ was implied.” Danny shuffled a bit to the side, back still resting against the chimney. He patted the spot he cleared. “What am I gonna tell you? No?”

“Just making sure.” Sam stowed the grappling hook to the side of her belt and settled into the spot beside Danny, feet outstretched. “In case maybe you wanted some alone time.”

“’Alone time’ isn’t really something I get anymore. I’ve had about a hundred-too-many ghosts crash through my bedroom for that.”

“So why the roof?”

“Roof is more for uh…” Danny twirled his hand, “‘less adoring crowds’ time. ‘Less classmates ogling me’ time. You can stay so long as you don’t ask me to sign anything.”

“I was never interested in the parasocial or capitalistic value of celebrity signatures. Besides, you cross your ‘t’s weird.”

Danny replied with a half-hearted chuckle. His line of sight drifted into the middle-distance again, unfocused.

“Is it getting to be too much?” Sam asked.

“Hmm?” Danny answered, eyes shifting back to her.

Sam gestured broadly, hands and arms outstretched. “You know just. All this. Everything.”

“…Nah.”

Another small silence grew from the cracks in the concrete between them.

“Paulina and Star are looking for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, are they?”

“Danny. You knew that.”

“Maybe.”

“…And you’re not interested in seeing what they want?”

“I figure Tucker is keeping them busy.”

“You’re unfortunately right.”

“Phantom Phacts?”

“Phantom Phacts.” Sam nodded. “I made him promise to leave out any embarrassing trivia from the trivia section.”

“Thanks for that,” Danny answered. “Is his presentation any good?”

“You think I’ve ever stuck around to hear it?”

“Fair.”

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin to her knees, staring forward.

“You’re really not interested in sitting with Star and Paulina for lunch?”

“Not really. Why? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s absolutely great. But I’m…” Sam shrugged, “surprised, I guess. I feel like usually you’d jump at the opportunity. And I kinda don’t think you’re refusing because you’ve suddenly recognized the banality of A-lister status.”

“Maybe that is what happened, you don’t know that. Down with capitalism, Sam.”

“Danny.” Sam tilted a fraction to face him. “I’m worried that this is all too much for you, and you just won’t admit it.”

Danny sat with the silence that followed. “I don’t think it’s too much. I’m just—I dunno. I mean. I’m just not feeling it.”

“…You can admit if it’s overwhelming, Danny. I’ll be the first to shut down ‘Phantom Phacts’ if it is.”

“Nah, nah let Tucker have his fun. He’s not the problem. It’s… I dunno.” Danny pushed himself taller against the chimney, upright now and unslumped. “It’s a little bit overwhelming, I guess, maybe. But it’s kind of what I expected. Maybe even a little easier than I was expecting. I thought I’d be dealing with a lot of Phantom-hate once everyone knew but, I guess that kind of died down a long time before everyone knew.”

“Valerie holding you at gunpoint in the cafeteria wasn’t Phantom-hate?”

“We’ve had a lot of good talks since then, okay?”

Sam let out a quiet laugh. “So then… why aren’t you sitting with the popular kids right now?”

“I just didn’t want to, I guess?”

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“It just didn’t really feel right.”

“Is it because of me?” Sam asked, another side-long glance cast to Danny. “Because you can sit with them. I’ll still make fun of you if you do, but you don’t have to… not sit with them because of me.”

“What? Huh—no. Nah, nah I mean I do care what you think Sam. But I mean if I wanted to be sitting with them then I would so. I mean. You don’t have to worry that it’s you.”

“So then what is it?”

Danny took a moment to answer.

“It’s just… it’s a feeling. I dunno. Like.” Danny spread his arms out. “The invitation is wrong? Or the invitation isn’t actually for me?”

“…The invitation is for Phantom instead?”

Pensive indecision set into Danny’s eyes. “That’s not totally it. Because I mean I AM Phantom. I’m not not me when I’m Phantom. Maybe I trash-talk a little more in ghost form but I’m not… not me. That’s still just me. You know that.”

“Right, yeah, no Danny. It just sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Sam let her legs slide out a few inches. “So what are you saying?”

Danny sat with the question. “When the news first picked up on Phantom, way back when—Inviso-Bill?—that wasn’t really anyone, you know? They made up some spooky icon to make the news about. Which was just like, whatever, not me. I didn’t even take ‘Inviso-Bill’ too personally because that just wasn’t me. And even when I stopped being an enemy and started actually being ‘Danny Phantom’… no one actually got it right, you know? They kind of came up with a character for me. Just some hero. I listen to the news and how they talk about me and I think, even now, I think ‘That isn’t me.’”

Danny pulled his knees in, a mirror to Sam, and stared down into his tattered jean fabric. “And when everyone learned I’m Phantom I guess I kind of expected them to be like ‘Oh it’s Fenton’ and then that fake version of Phantom would go away.” Danny raised his eyes to Sam, far more bothered than before. “…I think the opposite happened. They don’t look at Phantom and think ‘oh it’s Fenton’. They look at Fenton and think ‘oh it’s Phantom.’ I think Danny Fenton got put away. I think the person I was for 14 years doesn’t exist to them anymore. Whoever they invited to lunch isn’t me. He doesn’t exist. But I’m suddenly responsible for him. And it’s not even me.”

Danny paused. “And now I’ve been wondering like… how long until I disappoint them? You know? How long until I do something that makes them angry because I’m not doing the thing they expect ‘Phantom’ to do? How long until they start seeing there’s too much ‘Fenton’ in me and they start to hate me for it all over again? For them to really like me, I don’t think I can be me, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be someone who doesn’t just disappoint everyone in the end.”

A long gust of wind swept between them, stealing away the seconds.

“…So now you’re hiding on the roof.”

“It was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“But not a lasting one, if you ever want to get down.” The wind settled, and Sam swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “…Do you care if you disappoint them?”

Danny shrugged. “I. Yeah. I think. I don’t—I don’t think I totally know for certain, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you’re not going to disappoint me, or Jazz, or Tucker—and if Tucker does act disappointed over any lost Phantom Phacts ventures I’ll whap him over the head. But I mean, we know who you are. We’re not going to be disappointed realizing you’re not ‘Phantom.’ The worst you can do is land right back where you started.”

“And what if I started acting like ‘Phantom’ instead. Would that disappoint you guys?”

“Do you want to act like ‘Phantom’?”

Danny paused. “…No. Not at all.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple.” Sam stood, and she stretched until her back popped. “It’s not your responsibility to uphold whatever delusions people project onto you. I won’t hesitate to call them out on it. You know I’m good at being direct, and you know I’m even better at making enemies.”

“I don’t wanna be mean to them though when they’re finally being nice.”

“They’re not being nice, they’re projecting. If their niceness to you is conditional on you fitting to the box they created for you, that’s not nice, that’s manipulation, and it’s exactly the root of my ever-frothing disdain for popularity. It’s always some element about popular people that people latch on to, and they can fit the box that people give them, or they can reject it and find themselves wallowing amongst us outcasts. Don’t do that to yourself, Danny. Don’t live in their chains.” Sam tilted her head to Danny. “You spend all day trapping ghosts into tight little boxes and you can’t even recognize when it’s happening to you. I think you’d be better at spotting this.”

“It’s a cylinder, really. The thermos. It’s a cylinder. And don’t say ‘box’ so much. You might summon company.”

“You just said ‘box’ though.”

“I did say ‘box’.”

“Box.”

Sam laughed, noise trailing light on her lips. “…Feeling any better?”

“A little, I think… I still… I still think I... it's not as easy to just say 'I don't care if I disappoint them.' It's still scary. I don’t want to end up proving them right that they were right to hate me all along.”

“Are the opinions of Dash Baxter really the ones to be holding on a pedestal? Is his opinion of you really more important than what you think of yourself? You’ve been through this with the A-listers already. Don’t torture yourself again just because the door is wide open. I promise you Danny, it won’t make you happy.”

“So I should just do whatever makes me happy?”

“Every time.” Sam nodded.

"Even if I'm a total disappointing loser?"

"All the better."

"Even if I blow any chance I have with Paulina out the window?"

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Got any idea what you intend to say to her when she finds you?”

Danny paused. He pushed himself standing. “Maybe I could talk her ear off about NASA until she gets bored of me?”

“Excellent. Can I join? I have a lot to say about SpaceX and private capital encroaching on space exploration.”

“Does that apply to me? I’ve been to space. Am I private capital?”

“You’re not private capital.”

“Then what am I?”

“Annoying.” Sam locked arms with Danny, and dragged him along forward, her combat boots clunking against the rooftop. “And my friend. Come on. I’ll brief you on everything wrong with privately-owned space exploration while we’re rappelling down the side of the building with my sick and cool as hell grappling hook.”

“I can fly.”

“And I have a sick grappling hook. What’s your point.”

“It’s probably called a ‘Fenton Hook.’”

“Is that a Phantom Phact?”

Danny shook his head, and a smile pulled on his lips. “Nah. I think it’s a Fenton Fact.”

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #-lobs this over the fence-

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

Text

Part 2 baby, I'll put these up on my ao3 soon as well so they're in one place together

-------

"Dad... you're dead."

Jack laughed. He probably shouldn't have, Danny seemed to be very genuine in his assessment, and Jack recognised that he should probably take this more seriously. But still, dead?? It was laughable.

"Come on Danny be serious." Danny's face remained stoic, "I'm not dead, I'm right here."

"You're a ghost, dad." Danny's lips were pressed tight, his entire body tense. "You died."

Jack was feeling a little ill at this point, was Danny okay? Was there a ghost messing with his head? He leaned toward Danny and grabbed his hand, it was cold, Danny's hands were always cold.

"Listen to me son, you're not talking sense, there's probably a ghost somewhere tha-"

Danny stood up fast, impossibly fast, his chair skidded behind him and toppled over.

"No! Dad can you just- how did you get to bed last night?" He asked.

Jack hadn't been expecting the question, he'd gone to bed... the usual way right? Like he always did, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got into his pyjamas, kissed his wife goodnight, although for some reason the details felt a little fuzzy.

But before he could answer Danny continued.

"When did we leave the party?"

Party? Jack's brow furrowed, oh the party! It was his 50th, how could he forget his own party, had he had that much to drink?

Oh, oh of course. He'd gotten drunk and done something stupid, said something upsetting. That's why everyone was mad at him, that's why last night was foggy.

Danny kept going, he sounded frustrated, angry, but his voice cracked a little. He was upset, oh boy Jack must have done something truly awful.

"What happened after the toast?"

The toast... He had just blown out the candles on the enormous cake Vlad had bought for him, ah that's right, Vlad had been there! He'd hired the venue, planned the whole party, it had been a surprise.

He had handed him a drink...

Danny asked another question, Jack knew it was the last, it felt heavy and final, it didn't even sound like a question.

"What's the date today."

Jack knew the date, of course he knew the date, it was the day after his birthday why wouldn't he know? He'd never been particularly good with dates but not even he could forget his own birthdate.

He glanced over to the calendar on the wall, just in case, he had a sneaking suspicion this was some kind of a trick question.

Jazz was the one to mark off the days, she used it to keep track of her assignments and her tutoring sessions. Each day would be marked with a tidy little line, not an X because they had 'a negative association with failure' or... something. He didn't really understand a lot of Jazz's ideas.

The days were marked off up to June the 18th... the 18th, it should have been the 10th. His birthday was yesterday, on the 9th, today should be the 10th.

How could he have missed a whole week? Maybe this was a joke, a way to get back at him for getting drunk and embarrassing everyone.

But this... didn't feel like a joke.

Maddie's sobs hadn't felt like a joke, Jazz's silence hadn't felt like a joke.

Danny's eyes gouged into him. Danny had always been an awkward kid, he took after Jack in that way, he was shy when he was young, always had difficulty maintaining eye contact. He had no such difficulty right now. They were so bright, had they always been so bright?

It was unsettling.

Why couldn't Jack remember what happened after the toast...

The drink had tasted strange, bitter. He never particularly liked champagne, he assumed that it was normal. Vlad had been smiling, his teeth were sharp... his eyes...

Danny's hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles bumping against his lower lip as they shook. His gaze had shifted from Jack's face to the gravy-stained tablecloth.

"You're dead. I'm sorry, I know this is hard, I know you still feel like everything is the same but it isn't. You... you're a ghost, dad. Not the kind you're used to, you're just a haunting spirit right now, nobody can see you, nobody can hear you. You can't interact with anything, not yet."

Danny dropped his hands away from his face and looked at him sadly. Jack felt as though there was more to his expression, but he'd never been particularly good at reading people. Vlad had always been better at that sort of thing, it often felt like Vlad could speak a whole other language Jack simply couldn't understand.

Vlad... something was tickling the back of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it, like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Vlad had given him a drink. Vlad had smiled. It looked like a real smile, but Jack felt like... there had been something more to it, Jack had never been good at reading people... Vlad had smiled, his teeth were sharp, his eyes... red, they were red.

The champagne was bitter. He could almost still taste it.

Jack jumped to his feet, startling Danny as he balled his hands into fists.

"Vlad." he growled, Danny breathed a sad sigh.

"Yeah, it was Vlad, he-"

"He was overshadowed by a ghost!" Jack roared, "It's still got him doesn't it? Mads is out there looking for-"

"No! Fuck, dad- SIT. DOWN."

Jack sat. Without thought or question. Danny's command was loud, not deafening but loud in a different way, like he'd heard it through not just his ears but his entire body. It reminded him a little of the concerts he and Maddie used to frequent back in their college days, where the music was so loud it vibrated through them, head to toe.

It took him a moment to realise he was shaking, Jack always considered himself fearless, and that was generally true, so true that he almost didn't recognise the feeling as it swept coldly over him.

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed at them in frustration, Jack was almost certain he caught a flash of vibrant green beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry I... I didn't want to use that- I didn't mean," he sighed heavily. "You just never listen."

He was listening now, if not simply because he felt too shaken to do anything else. His thoughts rattled around trying to piece themselves together, something within him was screaming like he'd just touched a hot surface or a live wire. Danger danger danger danger.

"Vlad wasn't being overshadowed," said Danny, leaning against the kitchen bench, his body almost sagging with exhaustion. "It's... a lot more complicated than that."

"I can't be a ghost." Jack muttered, indignant, "They're monsters, they don't even look human. They don't wake up and hug their wives, they don't want to sit down and eat breakfast with their daughters."

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny's voice was quiet, it had none of that fierce intensity like before. What was that? It wasn't normal, it definitely wasn't human. Jack glared up at him as a hot flush of rage washed over him.

"How do I know you aren't the ghost. That you haven't done... something to my family, to make them think I'm dead!" Jack growled.

He wanted to stand up, but under Danny's icy stare he felt locked into his seat. His expression was mostly blank, but Jack could see a twitch in his brow and tilt to his lips. He could see it, but he couldn't read it. Ghosts were easier to read than this, ghosts weren't usually very subtle.

"Not all ghosts are the same." Danny repeated, his voice was so quiet now, tentative and fragile.

He walked over to the sink, Jack wanted to get up, wanted to keep his eyes on Danny and the ghost that might be controlling him, but he couldn't seem to make his legs work. The command still rang in his ears. Sit. Down.

"We aren't going to get anywhere like this." Danny filled up a glass of water and placed it in front of Jack. "Pick it up."

It wasn't a command, Danny's expression had softened once more.

"Please."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he did as requested. He could feel the cold glass in his hand, the condensation on his fingers, but as he tried to lift it... the glass remained as it was. His hands simply slipping over it.

He tried again, and again, it wasn't as though it was slippery, or heavy, or even that he couldn't grip it. The glass felt normal, his hands felt normal, the glass just wouldn't... move.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he grabbed the glass and squeezed with all his strength, it didn't break. The water didn't even ripple.

"This is a trick..." said Jack. "It's just a trick..."

Red eyes and a bitter drink, people stood around him, faces blurred. He was falling, someone screamed.

Danny started rooting around in a nearby drawer, he pulled out a ragged newspaper cutout. The ink had run in some spots, he placed it down in front of Jack.

It was an obituary. It was his obituary. Tear stained and rough around the edges, torn from the rest of the paper instead of cut, he skimmed over it, almost unable to take it in.

Jack Jonathan Fenton... age 50... survived by his wife Maddie and two children Danny and Jazz...

There was a list of his degrees, complete and incomplete, engineering, physics, mathematics, it listed the names of his high school and university, his reputation as a local ghost hunter, a blurb about his dedication to his work and his love for his family. Jazz had written it, he could tell. She was so good with words.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, please." Danny's voice cracked, his eyes were bright with tears as he righted the knocked over chair and sat back down across from Jack, gripping his hand tightly.

Vlad leaning over him, Vlad gripping his hand, he was smiling, his teeth were sharp. Glass smashed, he'd dropped the drink. It was bitter.

He could almost still taste it.

"No..."

Maddie running past him in the lab, like he wasn't even there, crying. Jazz at the breakfast table, not seeing not hearing, eyes red and puffy. They hadn't looked at him, not once had they looked at him. They couldn't see him, they really couldn't see him.

But Danny could.

"If... I'm a ghost," the words tasted foul and heavy on his tongue, "and you aren't... why can you see me?"

Danny sighed, still holding tight to Jack's hand.

"It's complicated." he said, staring down at the table.

"Vlad, he did this. I'm..." Jack whispered. "But his eyes were... he was overshadowed. It was a ghost that-."

"He wasn't overshadowed." Danny kept his gaze averted, his expression was hard and cold. "It was the accident with the proto-portal, it changed him. He-"

Danny choked up, tears were slipping from his eyes, he gasped a few unsteady breaths.

"He blamed you, he blamed you and wanted to kill you, he's been trying since the attack at the reunion. I tried to protect you dad I tried I tried I'm sorry, I didn't know about the poison until it was too late I'm sorry, I couldn't get there in time I couldn't-"

Danny's sobs shook his whole body, he buried his head in his arms, shaking hands still clasped around Jack's.

Red eyes, sharp teeth, the reunion...

"The Wisconsin Ghost," how had he not seen it? "He's the Wisconsin Ghost."

Then another thought struck him. He looked at his son like he'd never seen him before, sobbing loudly, painfully, his body wracked with spasms as he choked on every breath. He had been trying to protect him, all this time he had known and was protecting him, alone.

When Jack had been told to sit, compelled to sit, unable to move and paralysed with terror, had he imagined the glint of green in his son's eyes? He knew a ghost with green eyes, who could incapacitate someone with a single terrifying scream, who was mortal enemies with the Wisconsin Ghost, who claimed to be a protector, who looked just like a kid.

Danny had been in the lab that day, when the portal turned itself on.

Had the portal turned itself on?

Jack stood, his legs finally acting of his own accord once more, and he rounded the table to pull his son into a tight hug.

"Oh Danny, it was you, the ghost boy, it was you."

"I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry." The words wouldn't stop pouring from his lips, tumbling over and over. Jack's chest grew tight from the pain in his voice.

He ran a hand over his son's hair and shushed him gently.

"It's okay Danny-boy, it's not your fault, you did your best. I'm so proud of you son, we should have realised, you did so much all on your own, I'm so proud of you." It was Jack's turn to start blubbering.

"I should have told you." said Danny, voice muffled against Jack's chest.

He and Maddie always talked about all of the things that they would do to Phantom if they had ever caught him, they'd talked about it during family dinners. Danny had sat there listening, the whole time he had been right there listening.

"I... understand why you didn't." said Jack.

Danny had stopped shaking, he pulled away from Jack and wiped his eyes.

"Vlad told mom that he'd been overshadowed, she's been out hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost all week." Danny sniffed, "I wanted to tell her the truth, I wanted to so badly but Vlad he... he said he'd go for Jazz next. Said if he got past me once he could do it again. I couldn't risk it."

Jack had never understood why a ghost would choose to remain tethered, why they couldn't just move on and leave the living to go about their business in peace. He always told himself that when he died he would never return, he would take what was to come with open arms.

But that wasn't what happened. He'd gotten up to start his day as usual, but he was already dead. There had been no choice, and were he given one now, he didn't think he could bring himself to take it.

His family still needed him, how could he leave them behind? It wasn't wrong if he stayed to protect his family, right?

Jack placed a heavy hand on Danny's shoulder, and gently knocked his chin with a large fist.

"Buck up kiddo, I might need to get a handle on this whole bein' a ghost thing but when I do," Jack's voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl and, for just a brief moment, his eyes flashed a vibrant green, "I'm not gonna let him hurt anyone else."

#lula's fanfics #danny phantom #Bitter #jack fenton #am I projecting my neurodivergant ass on this man absolutely not how dare you sir #I just find not being able to tell if people are lying to me super relatable #danny phantom fanfiction #thanks y'all who told me how to do the readmores

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Beltane

Written for Ectober 2021 Day 1: Trick vs Treat. This is part of the Exhumed series.

Danny Fenton walked into the precinct. As often happened when he did this, all attention slowly turned to him. “Hi, Detective Patterson. Have you ever heard of Beltane?”

Patterson took a long swig of coffee through the plastic stir straw, because she felt the need to be at least a little drugged before dealing with whatever this was, and then said, “Is this the kind of thing the whole precinct needs to know about, or is it more specific to me?”

“Mm, not specific to you, but I’m not sure if everyone needs to know about it, yet.”

Despite only select members of the Amity Park police force knowing Danny Fenton had another identity, he’d become a sort of ‘ghost liaison’ for the precinct. Better him than the adult Fentons, who tended to break things even (especially) when they were being careful.

“Actually,” continued Danny, “you might have already noticed some things about it. I mean, it’s seasonal, and Mom and Dad were detecting ectoenergy and ghost activity spikes for events like this before they got the portal up and running. Although, the portal was supposed to stabilize and reduce those spikes… I guess reducing one isn’t bad?”

“Okay,” said Patterson. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want me to go find Collins?”

“Oh, that might be a good idea.”

“Great,” said Patterson. She turned her head to shout across the room. “McGee. Go find Collins.”

“Still the new guy?” asked Danny, sympathetically.

“It isn’t like we’re a popular posting,” said Patterson, “and, thanks to the ghosts, we don’t really need new people.”

Danny nodded placidly. “I know. But it must be hard for him, don’t you think?”

McGee had done his job. He’d discovered the corruption in the Amity Park Police Department and plumbed its depths. The problem was that he could never, ever, report it. Even if they didn’t have a perfectly good cause for it all, what they were ‘hiding’ (and they were only barely doing that) was so ridiculous that McGee had thought he’d gone crazy at first.

Ghosts.

The whole of Amity Park was haunted. Just like it said in those touristy brochures at the front of the local diners.

He stuck his head into the break room. “Collins, Patterson and Fenton want you,” he said.

“In the normal room?” Collins asked, shoving a sugary monstrosity of a donut into his mouth.

“I have no idea. She didn’t say.”

“Normal room then. Great job, McGee.”

McGee rolled his eyes. Great job, he said. As if he’d done anything.

God. What would Halloween be like?

“So, it’s like, reverse Halloween?” asked Patterson.

“Well, not exactly,” said Danny. He patted Daisy, the department mascot slash corpse sniffing dog who had followed them into the small interview room, gently on the head. “Actually, there are more similarities than differences. Basically, like Halloween, we’re going to get a spike in ectoenergy. Maybe even some ectoplasmic storms. More portals. That kind of thing.” He shrugged. “Most holidays and seasonal divisions have them, you know.”

“So… we’re getting Halloween round two?” asked Collins.

“What do you bet that this is what gets McGee to snap?”

“He’s been here since December,” said Collins. “I think he’s too stubborn to leave.”

“Is he still spying?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Patterson, waving a hand. “He gave up on that, after a while. But there’s a new office bet about whether or not he’ll stay stay, or if he’ll decide to quit. We’re not allowed to join in because we know him too well.”

“Mm,” said Danny.

“I don’t actually know if I feel like I know him that well,” said Collins.

“Well,” said Danny, “it shouldn’t be as extreme as Halloween. Since, I mean, there aren’t as many religious holidays directly associated with death and stuff happening on or around May first. So. Yeah. But the thing is, there are some traditional, er, activities. Spirited activities.”

Collins suppressed a groan, and was glad that Captain Jones wasn’t available today. He and Danny could sling puns at each other for obscenely long periods of time.

“I’ve never noticed ghosts doing anything on May Day,” said Patterson.

“This is only the third year anyone’s even acknowledged that ghosts exist,” said Danny, “so I’m not really all that surprised. But the reason that I came to talk to you guys is that some of the ghosts want to do Beltane stuff. Like the fire blessings. Also, I’ve been told that some of the trees in town are secretly ghost trees, and if we don’t want to deal with another tree army, we need to do some stuff to appease them.”

“Secret ghost trees.”

“My source is very reliable,” said Danny. “Also, while I say ‘we don’t want to deal with it,’ I think we all know who’d be dealing with most of it.”

“You would,” said Patterson.

“Got it in one. Like, I can convince most of the ghosts to either do their Beltane stuff in the Ghost Zone, or somewhere out of the way. They’ll be disappointed, but I can do it. The ghost tree thing, though…”

“Can’t we just, I don’t know,” said Collins, “get rid of the ghost trees?”

“Well, they aren’t really evil ghost trees. Or even really ghost trees. They’re more… ghosts that live in trees?”

“What, like dryads?” asked Collins, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s what I said, but they’re different species, apparently.”

“Okay,” said Patterson, “so. Appeasing the trees. How many trees are we talking about here, and how are we going to appease them?”

“Okay, so, this is definitely a whole precinct kind of thing,” said Patterson.

“And possibly an ‘all civil servants’ type of thing,” added Collins. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are we going to get the funding for this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about money,” said Danny. “I’ll just blackmail Vlad, and if that doesn’t work, I can get Mom and Dad to pay for it.”

“What,” said Collins.

“I think this might be a bit beyond your parents’ budget,” said Patterson, “but knock yourself out as far as Masters goes.”

“Well, I guess if it is,” he allowed, dubiously, “I could get the cults to pitch in?”

“This is nice,” said Danny. The sky was a bit overcast, which was a shame, but the hundreds of bright flowers and cheerful music more than made up for that.

The May Day celebration was, in Danny’s opinion, a success. At least, this half of it was turning out to be. He’d have to wait and see how the Spirit Bonfires went tonight before he could really make a judgement.

He’d only had to blackmail Vlad a little, too. It turned out that the ‘ruthless businessman’ in Vlad was ludicrously easy to manipulate, and once Danny brought up how a celebration like this one could revitalize local businesses and bring in tourism, he’d caved.

Although, that might have been the threat of an angry tree army. Vlad had definitely come off worse for wear in the last one, on all fronts.

Then, publically putting the Phantom Stamp of Approval (and Necessity Given The Potential Angry Tree Army) on the event had gotten buy-in from his fans and (sigh) the cults. The cults were, in fact, very enthusiastic about their new Holy Day. Danny had made a map of all the places they’d set up booths, and was studiously avoiding them.

Sam and Tucker were doing a walkthrough of that area, now, to check for problems and unadorned thorn trees. They’d arranged to meet up soon.

So, Amity Park was decked out in ribbons and flowers. All of the schools had gotten Maypoles and the day off of classes. Several bands, both human and ghostly, were playing in different parts of town.

It was chaotic, but great.

Danny briefly cut into the street to dodge a pair of college-age men play-fighting with tree branches (a genuinely important tradition symbolizing the battle between winter and summer), then walked through a wall to avoid two ghosts doing the same thing.

Finally, he reached Madame Babazita’s table.

“Hi,” he said, “three readings, please.”

“Three?” she asked. “Just for you?”

“My friends should get here before mine’s done,” said Danny. Was he channeling some predictive powers? Maybe. Holidays did make his powers weird.

“I have no idea what your reading is saying,” said Madame Babazita, after fifteen full minutes. “The cards simply aren’t speaking to me today. Also,” she held up an Uno card, “I’m not sure how this even got here.”

“That’s okay,” said Danny, “I just wanted to make sure it was the same as last time.”

“Hey! Phantom!” called Ember across the crowd of ghosts that had gathered in the cemetery. Most of them were fire or nature themed. “You’re in for a treat!”

Danny, who had been examining the flowers left on his grave, looked up. “I am?”

Ember draped her arm around Danny’s shoulder. She’d been a lot more friendly with him since the corpse incident. “Sure are.” She stepped up onto the surface of his memorial, pulling him up behind her. Danny shook off a brief chill and looked around.

Ghosts were streaming into the cemetery from various directions, bringing armfuls of flowers with them. Danny could see two, huge bonfire piles of flowers growing near the cemetery gates.

“Are there going to be cows?” asked Danny, who was still fuzzy on the details of the ghostly side of the celebrations.

“I don’t know,” said Ember. “When I’ve seen this done in the GZ there are. Here? Who knows. Maybe we’ll just walk through.”

Danny nodded, unworried. Beltane sure was an interesting holiday.

The last armful of flowers was placed, and every flower in the cemetery caught on fire at once. Including the ones on Danny’s grave. Danny yelped, jumping into flight. As an ice core ghost, he vastly preferred cold to heat.

This went without saying, but fire was very hot.

Ember grabbed his foot, and he almost kicked her. “You knew that was going to happen,” he accused.

“Sure did, babypop,” said Ember, grinning. “Come on, don’t you want to pass through the bonfires?”

Danny eyed the very large bonfires on either side of the cemetery gates. They were lit up with sparks like fireworks, shifting like flowers blooming and withering and blooming again. They were beautiful and impressive, and Danny felt like melting just by looking at them.

“I don’t know…” He wanted to, but… melting…

“Well, if you want to go out the other way and be horribly unlucky for the next year…”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Is that another trick?” he asked.

Ember’s grin grew wider, and she took off towards the gates. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Danny sighed and followed her.

“Unbelievable,” said McGee. “Absolutely unbelievable.” He gave the elderly cultist a boost into the wagon.

“I know, right?” said Patterson. “All this property damage and a low-key kidnapping,” she gestured to the hapless late night partier who had called the police when the cult got too insistent about their message, “and they didn’t even have the good drugs?” She shook her head. “Not that we ever arrest anyone just for drugs in this town.”

“I did not just hear you say that,” muttered McGee.

“We’ll make an Amity Parker out of you yet,” said Collins, heartily, slamming the back door of the wagon. He thumbed the button on his radio. “Any other disturbances?” he asked.

“No, you’re good to come back,” said the dispatcher.

“What I don’t get,” said McGee, leaning against a nearby wall in a moment of weakness, “is why we aren’t breaking up whatever cult thing is happening in the cemetery.” They’d seen it quite clearly on their way here.

“Because those are ghosts,” said Patterson.

McGee took a deep breath. “The ghosts are having some kind of ritual in the cemetery, and you aren’t worried.”

“Not really, no.”

“I hate it here,” said McGee.

“Do you, though?” asked Collins, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

McGee opened his mouth to snap back that, yes, he did. But…

Hm. Huh.

Collins patted him on the back.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2021 #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt treat #ectoberhaunt day 1: trick vs treat #fic #fanfic #exhumed

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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yetanothergreyjedi · 3 years

Text

What We Might've Been: Part 2

Part 1 Part 1.5

Part 3

Inspired by @liminalhollow 's Spork AU

For @dargeon-lissa @dp-marvel94 @aethtalon

...

“I- Uh- I’m not you- I-“ Danny racked his brain for an explanation that wouldn’t immediately get him killed. He'd entered the ghost's haunt. How had his room become a ghosts haunt?! But the thing didn't attack, didn't possess him, or use some mind altering power. It only tipped its head and watched him flounder for words. It seemed to notice it’s disguise slipping. The light in its eyes faded, leaving behind a dead grey-blue.

It sighed, "Did Vlad do this?"

"W-what?"

"Vlad Masters. Did he do this?"

"Why would Dad's creepy friend send me to the future?" He still didn't think it was the future, ghosts could have some crazy powers but that? No.

"Because he's a fruitloop." It answered immediately, and accurately, the guy from Wisconsin wouldn't leave his mom alone. But why, how, could he have anything to do with this?! The thing stopped, its eyes flashed green again for a moment as it said, "Wait- Future?!"

Danny nodded, he'd barely been sure what was happening but he was certain that's was what the ghost had said. Surely one ghost's explanation would be more accepted than the other?

“Where’s your medallion then?”

“My what?”

“Clockwork’s medallion. I know how time travel works."

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it. Ignoring the utterly bizarre statement. This was a trap, a trick. The ghost masquerading as him either wanted the object for itself or it wanted to remove his only protection against the other one, the one that had frozen him in place without seeming to expend a drop of energy. No, no, it couldn't have it. But there weren't many other options. He should've known better than to bring up the time question! He needed to get out of here!

He threw the first thing he could reach, hoping to catch it off guard and ran towards it— Through it, even better. He sprinted down the stairs. There was a flash of bight light behind him, he dodged low, almost throwing himself down the stairs before he realized nothing had been fired.

"Whoa, hang on!" Its voice echoed in a way it hadn't before. He kept running, not wasting a moment to glance at it, and ran directly into someone.

"Whoa! Hey, Dann-o! You came outa—"

"Ghost! In my room!" His dad didn't miss a beat, the gun was up by the time he finished the word 'ghost' and he was firing by time the sentence was over.

The specter dodged the first blast, made a shield for the second and paused to speak, "So not cool, man!"

His mom heard the commotion and joined the fray, while Danny sprinted to the basement. He needed a weapon, that thing had been mimicking him. He barreled into the lab, to the weapons case. Opened it and—

Crash.

He barely jumped back in time to avoid getting crushed.

What?!

Who filled the case with all this junk?!? The case was the second most important piece of the lab (the portal took first), not even Dad wouldn't do this?!

"Danny?" Sam looked at him from the other end of the room, slightly baffled. Tucker was also staring. "Did you bring it?"

"Bring wha—"

"Dude, what's with the jumpsuit?" Tucker cut him off, "Is it really that dangerous? I thought you said you blasted it?"

"What? We talked about the jumpsuit!"

"Did we?" Tucker looked to Sam.

"No." She affirmed.

"Could you explain it again, then?"

"Its cause of all the ghosts..." Danny said slowly, they should know this, he'd been wearing them since the first ghost attacks... Suspicion crossed both his friend's features.

There was a long pause, the pair shared a look and Sam demanded, "Secret word."

"Uh, what?"

"What's the secret word." Tucker clarified, as if that clarified anything.

"What are you guys- Hey! Whoa!" Three ectoguns were now pointed at him, Sam with twin wrist blasters and Tucker with a laser-y thing that had come out of his PDA (When did he do that? It was a very good idea).

"Who are you?" Said Sam.

"Is Vlad cloning again?" Asked Tucker.

"What? No! I mean I don't know! I'm not impersonating me, the ghost upstairs is impersonating me!"

"Nice try. Now answer."

"Uh... Sam?" Tucker was focused on the PDA screen. She glanced at him, quickly, before focusing back on Danny. She'd used these before, not like Sam... His Sam, who avoided any involvement with ghost hunting, who refused to accept that they were just monsters. "His scans are weird..."

"What kind of weird?"

"He's a level 2.5." Tucker switched to a whisper.

"What?" Sam followed suit, "That's too low for a shapeshifter."

"Uh... that's normal..." Danny lied, well kind of. He normally was a level 1.3 but he'd also just been in a ghost's lair (two lairs if you counted not-future-him's bedroom) and had a ghostly artifact in his pocket. Those things were likely to temporarily raise an ectosignature's power rating. He was 76% sure.

Another pause, Sam tried to gesture something while still aiming, there were some whispers he didn't catch. Then Tucker asked, "Did Vlad... raise you?"

"No!? Why does everyone keep talking about Vlad?! The Fruitloop lives in Wisconsin, I've seen him maybe twice!" The pair shared another look. He had no idea how to read those expressions.

He sighed, "You guys won't believe me."

"Try us."

"Yesterday I was at the—"

"Guys! We have a problem!" His hair stood on end as the ghost dropped through the ceiling. Danny shuttered. It was so much worse now that he got a look at it, it was wearing a Fenton hazmat suit, his suit, no, a mockery of it. The colors were inverted and the FentonWorks logo was replaced with some other symbol. That wasn’t the only thing inverted, twisted, he was staring at his own face only not. It’s tintless white hair stuck up just like his, and it’s eyes burned deadly ectoplasm green. Danny still didn’t have a weapon. “Oh, you found him! We have slightly less of a problem.”

“He’s saying Vlad has nothing to do with this... I’m not sure if I believe him.” Sam lowered her blasters, because he was somehow more of a threat than the monster crackling with unused power.

“Yeah, no... he said something about time travel—“ both of his friends groaned, “Then! He sicced my parents on me,” It turned his attention to him, “which is rude by the way! Honestly, I was getting close to being able to ask about a truce, but now they’re gonna be chasing me around for ‘attacking their son!”

“Oof,” Tucker added, as Sam asked about something the ghost could do to get his parents back on his side. Danny stopped listening and scanned for something useful in the pile of discarded machinery. Weapon, weapon, weapon... this wasn’t promising. There were blenders and half disassembled watches and a few things that looked like they’d been pulled out of a trash fire. The thing that looked the least like junk was probably a scanner, but his parents had started putting tasers in those, so it was something.

“Hey,” too late. the ghost was in front of him, he dove for it. Grabbed it. Rolled with the momentum and brought the scanner up as he got to a kneeling position. The thing came to life with a whirring sound.

The ghost laughed, the sound lasted longer than it’s mouth had been open, “That’s the ghost Gabber.”

“That’s the Ghost Gabber. I am a ghost, fear me!”

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but really it’s better for everyone if you go back to whatever time you’re from.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but really it’s better for everyone if you go back to whatever time you’re from. Fear me.”

“Could you please turn that off.”

“Could you plea—“ The sound died as Danny flipped the switch and tossed it back on the pile. Why did his parents even make that?

“Why should I trust you, Ghost?!”

#danny phantom #spork au #my writing #grey writes #what we might've been #chapter 2

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