#DP x TMA Crossover
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Ghosts Get Lonely Too - TMA Lonely Ghosts AU
[AO3 Link]
Jonathan "Jon'" Sims has discovered a new statement left behind on Gertrude's laptop. In an effort to stop the Unknowing, he reads it in the hope of finding clues to stop the Ritual.
The Statement of Vlad "Plasmius" Masters in regards to the relationship between Gerard Keay and himself.
Statement Begins
[Click]
I’ve come home from the States. I was definitely being followed. I am not sure what was following me, it looked like an officer but it felt… wrong. I think something else distracted it or perhaps something happened to it after the stop on the way to Washington D.C. I had not seen it since.
I’ve tried to find more information from the laptop that Gertrude left behind. What was curious was that when I turned it on, there was something new in the emails that had not been there before.
Or perhaps I missed it entirely because I was looking for something else…
In any case, when I had intended to comb through the device again for anything I had missed, it connected to the nearest printer and started printing out what looked like… emails between a Vlad Masters and Gertrude. It may hold clues or at least… another piece of the puzzle.
I never was able to find out what really happened to Gerard. Not beyond what the hospital staff mentioned. Though from what they said about Gertrude’s arrest and the odd book that vanished, I could hazard a guess. Perhaps that information is in these emails as well. Perhaps this won’t be another dead end.
Statement of Vlad Masters regarding the relationship between Gerard Keay and himself. Original Source from Email Correspondence between Vlad Masters and Gertrude Robinson found on her Laptop. Audio recording on July 05, 2017 by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.
Statement Begins.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Gerard Keay Sent: November 27, 2014
Dear Ms. Robinson,
I hope this finds you well.
It has come to my attention that you are the one that may have the answers I seek. I am aware of your working relationship with Gerard Keay. I am also aware of what that work entails. I have attempted to contact him many times to no avail.
I have something of his that I believe he would like returned to him. If you would be so kind as to assist me in getting into contact with him, I would appreciate it.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
November 27, 2014
Mr. Masters,
How did you get this email?
I am afraid I cannot help you. It is best you dispose of whatever it is. I recommend the latter if you know what is good for you. If you truly know of our work, then you are aware of the risk it may hold.
- Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
November 28, 2014
Ms. Robinson,
As I said, I know of your working relationship with Gerard. I made an educated guess. I know very well what is good for me, and at this moment it is getting in contact with Gerry. I imagine he would like his coat back. Please ask him to contact me.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
November 29, 2014
Mr. Masters,
Gerry, hm? Interesting.
He must have been quite distracted to forget that ratty old thing. Perhaps you may be in too deep now, but that still does not change the fact I cannot help you. I recommend you forget him. It is for the best, Mr. Masters.
- Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
November 29, 2014
Ms. Robinson,
I know you are working to stop some grand ritual, The Unknowing. Perhaps you will make sense of what I have found. It is not just the coat I wish to give him. I had offered to help him with his research. A solution that contained as much certainty as dealing with any primal source such as Fear has to offer. Especially one that falls into the Uncanny.
I do not understand your insistence to ‘forget’ him. I assure you, I have no intention to do so.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 1, 2014
Mr. Masters,
You are a persistent man, I will give you that. I suppose at least one person ought to remember the boy.
So, he has told you about the Fears. There is a price to Knowing such things like that.
Tell me what you know, Mr. Masters. About Gerard and about The Unknowing.
- Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 1, 2014
Ms. Robinson,
What do you mean by ‘remember’?
Yes, yes, I know how capitalism works. The Fears carry little difference to any other predatory being, they are simply bigger and nigh unfathomable.
You want to know what I do? Tell me how to reach Gerry.
Please.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 1, 2014
Mr. Masters,
Hm. Very well.
You will want to find the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead. Then you will want to read the last page. It should still be in police evidence so you may have trouble getting to it. Or perhaps not if you have a propensity for getting into places you shouldn’t.
Though it is said that those who are bound to the pages aren’t themselves. So you may not really be speaking to Gerard.
- Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
You abandoned him.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
Mr. Masters,
Here I thought you had taken my advice and forgotten about me. Did you find what you were looking for? Are you going to tell me what you Know?
- Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
You had best hope that our paths never cross, Ms. Robinson. You are, arguably, a smart woman. I am certain you can figure out the Unknowing yourself.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
Mr. Masters,
You will have to try harder than that to scare me. Better than you have tried and they have certainly failed. You will do no better.
Now then, if you are done posturing:
Will you let Gerard's death be in vain? Let the world, that he tried to save, end by yet another ritual?
Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
Ms. Robinson ,
He preferred to be called Gerry. Do not pretend now that you care . If you had, then he would not have been left unclaimed as he had been.
You will get nothing more from me.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
Mr. Masters,
I dislike having to do this, but you have left me little choice.
A Statement, if you would please. Tell me what you know, Vlad Masters.
Gertrude Robinson
—
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Gerard Keay
December 19, 2014
Ms. Robinson,
I know many things, Gertrude Robinson . I am aware of your power of compulsion. That ever-burning desire to know things, even as you work to resist using such abilities to find your answers. You find the power repulsive, even when it removes such troublesome barriers.
It would be easier for you, wouldn’t it? To sink into that which your position allows. You are the Archivist. The one who focuses so much on her own work that the rest of the world goes away. You pretend altruism, but clearly those who work with you are expendable. You wish to keep you precious humanity as if anything Other is detestable.
To you, Gerry , was expendable.
He was not .
He was mine .
So badly he wished to trust you. Wanted someone he could perhaps rely on. That did not simply look past him and truly saw him. You saw your work and you saw how he could be useful to you.
I saw him.
The first time I saw him was in Chicago, you were with him. I was burning time while in the area on business. I imagine you must have been searching for books then. They are a common enough find in an Antique Shop. Sometimes I have come across such strange books. Not your Leitners, but other tomes with secrets that others would consider fantasy. Things that would have been tossed aside as some sort of fairy tale. I believe they overlapped; your Leitners and my Occult.
It was that small shop, easily missed, tucked between towering buildings as though it was left behind while the modern era rolled in. It was what drew me to it, that distinct feeling that called to me. Perhaps it was not even that shop that drew me, but those who were within.
I no longer recall what I had been looking at when we met. Not really. Something among the dusty piles of books in the back corner made my entire being itch. I ached to find the reason. Picking up books and a passing glance over each one. Page through them to see if anything caught my eye. Most had been mundane and disappointing.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to touch the source of what made me itch. The next thing I knew, a scarred hand covered in eye tattoos on every knuckle flashed out and snatched it before I could grab it myself. It would have been easy to be indignant, I was feeling the emotions bubble up in my chest. Nearly lashed out at this unknown who so rudely pushed his way into my space.
Then I saw him. Tall. Pale. Thin. He looked even paler with the long black leather coat and the hair. The hair was dyed black, although badly. Patches of roots missed, mostly towards the back where he could not see. The color faded in places that didn’t become saturated enough and some portions washed away with hot water.
I knew immediately what he had done wrong, I recognized the effort that was made to dye pale hair black. Clearly, he had not been ready to give up as I had already done. The color stopped taking to my hair a long time ago.
He must have sensed the impending ire, I remember his eyes meeting mine, looking far too tired. I recall wondering how often he actually slept. The smile that he gave had caused my core to stutter in a way I had not felt since college.
It was just a simple thing. A smirk in my direction as he held up a leather-bound book with a cover so worn, the letters were difficult to discern. A little quirk of the lips as though it were just simple happenstance. It should not have caught me off-guard as it did, but there was something about him. As though perhaps in that moment, he saw me too.
“You don’t want this one. Boring read really. I suggest something more exciting, like that encyclopedia set. Heard the Encyclopedia Britannica is a real page turner.” He told me. His voice was soft and sounded as tired as he looked, but there was a certain intensity to it. Its effect was startling to me as his smile had been.
Clearly, he was just trying to keep me from taking home a cursed book. I think it was something along the lines of corruption. Some cursed copy where a man slowly became a cockroach if I recall correctly. Probably for the best, as I wouldn’t want to have to spend the next decade resolving that. They don’t make suits for giant cockroaches.
My brain still had not caught up with my mouth and all I could do was stare at him in dumbfounded silence. Not my proudest moment, although not my worst. It wasn’t until he was walking away that I found my words, though my brain had not yet engaged enough to place any filters before I ran my mouth.
“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already read that edition. Absolutely riveting what lies within Q and T. However, I was looking for something perhaps a little more my speed.”
It sounded terrible, and I knew it did the moment the words left my lips. Yet… he laughed. It wasn’t a particularly loud one, but that smirk became something a little more real . It touched his eyes when he huffed a small chuckle.
“I suppose someone has to find whatever is between Quilts and Trains interesting.” There was that core stuttering smirk again, playing at the corners of his lips as he spoke, “What is more your speed?”
I had really wished my brain had enough function to stop me before I said anything stupid. Yet, with full confidence, I found myself uttering the words while holding up one of the encyclopedias, “U, if you can keep up with me.”
If I could have died the rest of the way, I would have. The way he stared at me made me nearly vanish then and there. It was a very near thing, but I managed not to blow my cover in public. Then he laughed . Not the soft short breathless chuckle. Not the soundless single huffs that someone may do. A full, albeit short, laugh. I think he was surprised he could even make the sound. As if he had forgotten he could.
He wasn’t the only one who forgot himself. For the first time in my life since college, I had completely forgotten about the woman I had claimed to love in exchange for the man before me. I am not saying it was love at first sight, but there was something that… drew me to him.
It certainly didn’t stop me from making a fool of myself, and I recall feeling my cheeks burning and I nearly vanished on the spot. I very well could have, despite the fact I had made such an effort by then to have control over that aspect of myself.
“Maybe if you ask nicely.” He finally told me. His accent became a bit heavier with his amusement. It was then that I noticed that the book looked heavy in his hand. It wasn’t a terribly thick book, but it simply seemed to weigh more than it should. It demanded to be seen.
I wanted to pull it out of his hands. Lighten the load.
Somehow, I had enough self-control not to. He must have noticed where my gaze was going and moved it out of sight. I tried to busy myself studying the book I was clutching onto like a prop.
“Really? Well, most people want a name first, if you would please.” I countered, trying to save face. It wasn’t working.
“Does it really matter?” He countered, seeming amused by something he was seeing. I realize now that it wasn’t really me he was looking at then, but whatever was around me. Whatever aspect of your Fears that was drawn to me.
I don’t know why that question brought me to my senses. What about it sobered me up so much? Perhaps the deceptive simplicity of those four words uttered while two complete strangers stood in an antiques shop had done it. It was a question I had asked myself often as I had grown.
Perhaps variations on the same words, a rearranging of the phrase to fit more closely with whatever fresh hell in my life made me ask myself that question. Endless debates on if anything I did was worthwhile. If anything, I did would ever change my situation.
Finally, I told him, “No. I suppose not.”
I think he realised the mistake he made as I had suddenly schooled myself and had started to try and make my escape from the awkward situation I caused.
Then he told me his name. Blurted it as though he was revealing, perhaps, that he was just as nervous about making a fool of himself. Perhaps from the outside we were not nearly as awkward as we perceived ourselves to be.
Perception is funny that way.
“Gerard.” He said it quite suddenly and almost forcefully, as though being louder took more effort than he was used to using.
Fate rarely has ever cooperated for me when I wished it to. I had been about to respond in kind when my phone started to go off. I was running late for my meeting. Somehow, I had lost track of time and I had begun to curse myself.
Thought I was being clever when I answered, throwing a glance his way when I greeted whoever was on the other line with my name before I left the shop. With that infernal encyclopedia I might add. Found out later that he paid for it. I would have liked to think he thought I was being clever, but I was sure he just thought I was an idiot.
I thought that was the end of it. Nothing to come of a chance meeting between two strangers. We simply knew each other’s names and continued on with our lives.
Never had I been so glad to be wrong.
Unfortunately, the short time between our paths crossing did not lend me an ability to conduct myself in a more charming manner. Somehow, I was destined to act the fool in front of the man. Looking back on it, I supposed it worked in my favor, though I would not be able to begin to tell you why.
It was just a couple days later. I imagine you were busy with something else. I had vaguely recalled you lurking about somewhere near him in the shop. At the time I had thought you were his mother. How wrong I was. Though I suppose there was little difference between the two of you in the end.
There was a local cafe I had begun to frequent during my stay, the coffee was strong enough to wake the dead. It held the right kind of bitter notes. It was a decent enough start to my mornings.
It was made better when I had walked in that morning. I would have never expected to run into the same person twice in a place I did not live. Yet, there he was, standing alone by the counter while he waited for his order. Somehow, he looked even more tired where sunlight could reach him. Accented just how pale he was in contrast to the black leather coat.
Yet… he was still quite beautiful.
It was early enough to not be too busy. I hadn’t needed to wait in line too long. I must have caught his eye, well, one of them. He seemed to almost… brighten when he recognized me.
It is nice to think so, at least.
There was a companionable silence as we stood together, the kind that comes from the mutual agreement that it was too early for conversation. Anything said before caffeine would have likely been a nonsensical disaster. He had no reason to wait there with me, as he was already holding and sipping his coffee. Yet, I imagine he was graciously waiting for me to have my own source of liquid wakefulness.
Though as I said, neither time nor apparently caffeine graced me with any charm.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you came here just to see me.” I told him.
He laughed at me and pointed out that he had gotten there first. I hid my embarrassment by drinking my coffee. Surely more caffeine would have made it better.
“But I may make a point to come here more now that I do know you come here.” He mused.
The moment he said those words, I swore I had heard it wrong and managed a stuttered, “O-oh?”
The answering smile made me try to find my footing. I knew I would not be in the area that much longer. Perhaps a week at most. The caffeine must not have yet kicked in, as I hardly knew the man, yet I proposed we go on a date. The cafe we were in was well and good, but I suggested perhaps there were better settings in which I could make a fool of myself.
To my delight, he agreed .
The next thing I knew, I was giving him my number and he sent me a text message with a little book emoji. I had his name. I had his number.
I had his number .
I had not gone on a date in an embarrassingly long time. Circumstances prevented it at first, health reasons. After that, it was no longer a focus of mine. Sure, I have flirted from time to time, but there was no real interest involved. Just pretty words to get others to swoon and oblige to my asks.
The rest of the day had gone by far too quickly after that. I hardly remember it. Same old business meetings and my thoughts drifting off to what I would wear. What I would even say? I could plan a business meeting down to nearly every beat. Anticipate what would be argued about and how to counter them. How to win deals and continue to gain wealth.
Yet with him… he was different. He caught me off guard in a way I had not allowed myself. However, I was firm to remind myself that it was simply a date. Not to get my hopes up for anything more than a night I was bound to stumble through.
The date had gone surprisingly well. I had picked somewhere quiet. While I was no stranger to fine dining, something convinced me to pick something that was more of a hole-in-the wall. The atmosphere was far more relaxed which seemed to bode well for both of us. I do not think he would have cared for any of the places I tended to frequent for business dinners.
Do not misunderstand me, I still feel like I made an utter fool of myself. I had half expected him not to show. I would like to think I would not have faulted him for it, but I know I would have tried to rationalize things to make myself feel better.
I think he knew that too.
Yet, there he was. He really showed up and, well, at the end of the date actually kissed me.
I hadn’t been expecting it, and I was rather glad no one but him noticed my faltering control. The loss of control had been the way my hands went intangible and I dropped what I was holding. Completely unable to get ahold of myself for far too long. My eyes flashing into an intense red that he later, affectionately, described as ruby.
I remember kissing him back. I remember the taste of our meal on his lips, the aftertaste of cigarettes that would always be there from the sheer frequency of his habit. I remember finally getting my hands back in order so that I could feel how soft his hair was.
It was a wonderful kiss.
It was a wonderful night after the date. We had agreed to finish our date at my hotel.
I had not realized he had noticed the lapse in my control until there was a lull and he asked me, rather bluntly, what I was. That I, in his words, ‘Feel like I was touched by the End, but not’.
You would think that would have ruined the mood, but he was calm as he asked. Genuinely curious and not overbearing like some I knew. So… I risked letting someone else in on the secret. Showed him the man behind the curtain as it were. Showed him 'Plasmius'.
Except what many would not understand is that the Man behind the curtain is the same as the one outside of it. For I am what one calls a ‘Halfa’. The only one as far as I am aware. A result of a college incident with a small scale interdimensional portal that was turned on by my so-called best friend, exposed me to a burst of ectoplasmic radiation.
I suffered from radiation poisoning or a “kinder” term, ‘Ecto Acne’ for two years. Two years alone in a hospital. Two years slowly dying as my body continued to reject my existence. Treatments did nothing but perhaps take the edge off. I was angry and hurting and easily forgotten as an unfortunate casualty of science.
At the end of two years I died and I… became something else. Stewing in the emotions of abandonment, a broken heart, and anger with the ectoplasmic energy turned me into a ghost. Except I was not entirely a ghost. No, I was also alive. I imagine it had to do with being exposed to what was effectively a threshold between the living and the dead.
When I showed Gerry what I was, I had expected skepticism or shock. Instead he was relieved. While he was no ghost, he seemed relieved that I was not among the “normal” masses. I admit, there was as much comfort as there was confusion in realizing that he too was part of a small circle who “Got it”.
The awkwardness melted away near instantly when he asked me how I came to be this way. It was not so much invasive as it was curious. The memories hurt, certainly, but there was something… freeing… about telling someone .
In exchange he told me about his mother. His childhood. Why he was in Chicago. About you and this Unknowing Ritual. He explained the Fears and explained that I felt, well, like a prime candidate for something called The Lonely.
I wanted to scoff.
I wasn’t afraid of being lonely . I knew plenty of people. Yet… as I found myself trying to argue it, I realized he was right.
Admittedly, it was a painful realization. Especially as his list of what I could focus on to combat it would help me none. Anyone I could have possibly relied on was absent from my life or not worth my time. I didn’t even have a pet to speak of.
I could see there was some recognition in his eyes. Loneliness was something he was all too familiar with. For the first time in… such a long time… there was warmth that came from someone outside of myself.
He offered, then, to be my focus should the Lonely come to try and isolate and drown me. He asked me for nothing more than to call him Gerry. That, if he had friends, he would have liked to have been called such.
What could I have done but offer something in exchange. I had plenty of resources that may not have been tapped. May have had some unexpected overlap with what they were searching for. So I offered to see what I could find for him.
Then we stopped thinking about all of that for the rest of the night.
There were a few more dates after that. We snuck in more time together between my work and his research with you. I was… happy. We had never put a label on whatever it was we were doing. Friends with Benefits did not quite seem like it covered it, but dating almost seemed too far a stretch. Though perhaps it was just because we were both afraid of losing something again.
I stayed in Chicago perhaps longer than I should have. I gave myself more reasons to stay. My initial stay of couple of weeks turned into a month. He didn’t seem to mind it. At times we were researching together… pulling out old books and records to find anything that would solve his particular problem. It reminded me of the old days… of college. I always enjoyed that aspect of work. Of figuring out solutions to problems, and it was better having someone to bounce ideas off of.
Then with no leads there, he had to go to Pittsburg. With you.
I wish I had noticed it sooner, the symptoms. I imagine we had attributed some of his sensory issues with the near full body scars from burns. The headaches from staring at books too long and forgetting to eat.
We had one more night together before he left with you. I promised to keep searching back home. To find the answers he sought. Perhaps some part of his unconscious knew something was going to happen. Perhaps it was just the simple fact that we knew it may be a while before we would see the other… if we would see the other again.
I am sure we would have found a way, if given the chance.
I didn’t want to let go of him that night. I had held him tight against me, my face buried in freshly dyed hair that I had helped him with.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have let go at all.
He had forgotten his coat in my hotel room. His pack of cigarettes too. Though I now wonder if that was intentional. An anchor. A reminder of him if the Lonely were to come for me. Perhaps it had already come. Perhaps its method was to simply consume my anchor.
I recall texting him, and he simply told me that I could give it back the next time we would meet.
You left his body unclaimed. Abandoned by the one he would have followed to help stop the end of the world.
I should not have let go.
I will not do so again.
As for your little Unknowing Ritual. Its basis has nothing to do with logic. It is meant to confuse and twist things unto the unreal.
You want to stop it? Shatter its fantasies with cold hard reality. The louder the better. Thorough destruction.
I am sure you can figure it out if you apply yourself. Perhaps your answer lies hidden in whatever storage unit Gerry had mentioned.
Now, if you will excuse me, I must find this so-called Catalogue. It was not where you said it would be.
Do not contact me further. It is for his sake that I do not hunt you down. The world can burn for all I care.
Instead, I simply leave you with this reminder: He wanted to trust you.
He was right not to.
Sincerely,
V. Masters
—
Statement Ends
Well that was… certainly something. Perhaps I should have stayed in the states longer and investigated more of Chicago.
Ghosts. Halfas. The latter was not something I could find concrete evidence on. The name was familiar and I asked Martin to dig into some records, and it seemed as though Vlad Masters had indeed claimed Gerard’s… Gerry’s body.
Martin tried to find out more on Vlad Masters. It seems as though he was CEO of a large company and was based in Wisconsin. It appears that he suddenly went missing sometime last month, in June. It was linked to several other disappearances of that of old college colleges of his and their children. Apparently his work revolved around a new energy source based on this ‘ectoplasm’.
Research about that seems to have a lot of missing records. At most, anything that survives at this time were written by those missing colleagues, Jack and Maddie Fenton. They were from Amity Park, Illinois and it seems they all vanished as well.
There was reports of something called a Phantom. Perhaps that is a Lonely Avatar.
Anything other leads we have tried to follow seem to turn up cold. I could go back and search Vlad's home for more clues, but I have a feeling it would just be another dead (heh) end.
Perhaps the Lonely did finally get to him.
I suppose I could look into that storage unit angle. See what this key goes to. I’ll ask Martin and Melanie to help me look into it as well.
[ Click ]
#DP x TMA#DP x TMA Crossover#Danny Phantom#The Magnus Archives#Fanfiction#My Writing#Vlad X Gerry#Vlad “Plasmius” Masters#Gerard “Gerry” Keay#Cross Posted#This has been gnawing on my brain all week#There is an entire playlist I made for this for the vibes#Lonely Ghosts AU
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Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), Danny Phantom
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Danny Fenton, Trevor Herbert, Julia Montauk, Maddie Fenton, Jack Fenton
Summary:
Trevor Herbert and Julia Montauk decide to stay with old allies, the Fenton family. They won't have an issue if they use a backroom to let the Archivist talk to (thoroughly trapped) ghosts.
Then the Archivist went and stole the book and the youngest Fenton. It's going to take a while to catch up.
This is a collection of random stories following the Archive's newest intern. I'll try to keep it somewhat chronological.
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For my "Danny universe hops to TMA and Elias hires him on the spot" AU
.
At first glance, Michael Distortion probably looks a lot like a ghost...
(Set at the end of MAG 47, "The New Door")
Bonus after the fact;
#crossover#danny phantom#dp#mag 47#tma#the magnus archives#michael distortion#jon sims#my art#hehehehe#dp x tma#michael got absolutely *decked* lol#is this actually what would happen? probably not haha#this was originally a fic idea but it fits better as a comic :3#if anyone has ideas for stuff that could happen i would very much appreciate suggestions as asks (no spoilers past mag 136 pls)
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There's next to no Danny Phantom and Teh Magnus Archives crossover! I think that's sad, so I'm thinking of writing one, but I have no single clue. About anything.
Like, yeah, the ghost zone or infinite realms or whatever is a great "somewhere else" for Martin and John, we have them both in one place and with all their trauma and arcs in place (if I write, I want it to be about healing, not inflicting more damage! Not that that's likely to happen...), so it might be better, because their characters are pretty figured out.
So the placement is pretty clear. Both of them, lost, afraid, angry and deeply in love, lost in a scary green place reminiscent of just another fear realm. Maybe Jon's connection to the eye is lost? Maybe he not only has that connection but all the dread powers living nearly rent free in his head all the time? Nearly because maybe he gets cool powers. What about the world they left behind? Do they want to get back? Their former friends and the former avatars, are they involved or did they leave all that behind?
Then we have the trio. Is Danny the ghost king and feels responsible for these two traumatised disasters? Maybe Jon and his powers scare him? Being known and not accepted by his parents, the ghost or the town, heck even himself is one of his biggest fears, right? Maybe the three are just figuring themselves and their relationship out and try to (not successfully) distract themselves?
Is Jazz involved, trying to help these two, but failing and feeling her own limits harshly? Or are they maybe not even letting anyone close, for pretty obvious reasons?
On one hand, I think Jon would actually be the one to be positive towards Danny in some shape or form, because, I imagine, he projects not only on all the scared and desperate children in the apocalypse (whose fears he could feel all the time and he didn't even have the mental capacity to feel empathy towards them? WHAT THE FUCK?), but also on himself as a child. A traumatic experience shaping an otherwise neglected and hated child's life? That child seems obviously already in need of help? (Be it queer and/or neurodivergent, Danny needs more accomodations in his life, at least in my head).
On the other hand, Martin has already been shown to react with anger or manipulation as defense mechanism against unknown or feared variables, even if they're children. I think he would have outgrown the murder we saw with Callum Brodie, but he stated himself that he would be willing to do nearly everything to keep Jon safe and with him, especially in an environment he perceives as dangerous. Martin would be a Problem. Sam and Tucker would also react negatively, Sam because she sometimes has an issue with generalisations and having troubles changing her mind, once she has an opinion, Tucker because he deals heavily in knowing the enemy and keeping his patterns and would be scared if both aren't available. It's a fact both Jon and Martin would be difficult to read after all their time, especially since communication wasn't the focus during the apocalypse, and the fact that both are from a different dimension with a completely different timeline and no other records would freak him out. It's not ghost, but is it human?
I just realized, I fleshed this out way more than I thought I did. Huh. Who would have thought?
Might add more later, or maybe even start writing it? Who knows. Not me.
#danny phantom#dp#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#tma x dp#dp x tma#Maybe they could show each other beauty#both foreign and known#i don't even know if danny is spending all that much time in the fenton household in this#or if we're going this quit neglected route#where he mostly spends time around other people#and distrusts adults#because he learned that he can't depend on them#sometimes he crashes with his friends#or most times he does#sometimes at clockworks#or another ghostly allies place#and he is aware the situation isn't great#but doesn't see a way out#but doesn't blame his parents#because he understands#also ectoplasm exposure made them obsessive#and he doesn't really see the need for change#this his situation isn't ideal#but he knows it#and is able to work with it#what more do you need in life?#he has food a room and clothing#WHY IS THERE A TAG LIMIT?!??
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HI HI CAN I JUST SAY I have fallen in love with your art style and ALL of your posts on Instagram are making me actually lose my mind. I need more tma x dp for my soul. There aren't that many fics with this crossover, but I thought I'd come by here to suggest "What Comes After" by UnluckyAlis, I think you'll like it! 👀💞 Thank you for making such fantastic art<3
waaaa thanks so much!!! 🥰🥰🥰
i honestly dont have ideas for what a true crossover would be, i just rlly enjoy doing tma drawings in that style - i mean, one of my favorite dp fanon ideas has always been that the ghosts do what they do because they feed on human emotions, fear in particular. im fact, before tma, i had been mulling over a dp au of sanders sides in which 'guy feeds on fear and is conflicted about it' was a p big plot point... and that's the month I started listening to magnus :)
Thanks for the fic rec! im not reading a lot of tma fic anymore but just by coincidence, i already read What Comes After. it's rlly good so far, hopefully ill like their jonmartin characterization when they appear
#tma#ask#nanaarchy#danny phantom#tma s3#im so picky when it comes to tma characterization#quite annoying tbh. but i just cant bring myself to read a fic if they do my guys wrong 😤#joos yaps
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Danny phantom x The Magnus Archives story idea;
Alright so my brain is deciding to bug me about this one so I'm going to share it all with you.
At least what ive been finding Dp x TMA community doesn't get enough content so I'm adding to it, how you may ask?
By making Wes Weston one of the main characters is how.
Sure you can go with Jazz or Danny as workers at the archives or even persons of interest, but you can make things do much more interesting with Wes.
Because what is Wes most known for in the phandom? Being a stalker, going out of his way to prove Danny is Phantom, trying to dig up as much information as possible about the Fentons to the point its a running joke, he is a journalist, someone who goes out and face the supernatural! He would be the best candidate to work at The Magnus Archives.
If not that route then make him related to Jon or Martin in some way then. He obviously got the trait of seeking knowledge even when no one believes him, despite even living in a town filled with ghosts.
Maybe he goes in for an interview for report his findings, maybe his family is related to someone else from the Archives, hell he could be in charge of opening a branch in Amity Park to make things more interesting.
So for those interested in a DP x TMA fanfic or crossover use Wes Weston because he deserves to be called out for his obsession of finding out the truth and used as an actual character point.
#danny phantom#autistic writer#dp crossover#wes weston#the magnus institute#the magnus archives#give me this#i'll write it
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A Post for Pinning
Hello! I'm Alumbian or Astrala.
This blog is a mix of writing, fandom, crafts, and sometimes science. My current hyper-focuses are Danny Phantom and Moon Knight.
My Ao3: AlumbianChronicler
My website (for my published novel!): Website!
Other links and references to be added as I think of them.
Current WIPs:
No Laughing Matter:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Tumblr/Ao3; 5/? chapters
Danny inhales Joker Gas and rampages across Gotham before being brought down by Blood Blossom extract. Now, everyone has to live with the aftermath. Whump.
Zombie Prince:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Ao3; 5/? chapters
Danny finds a freshly-revived Jason, having just dug himself out of his own grave, and brings him back to the Realms to recover as a Halfa. Meanwhile, Danny decides to make Bruce Wayne's mental health his personal project.
Phantom Moon:
Crossover: dp x Moon Knight
Status: Ao3; 6/12 chapters
Danny seeks refuge in the Midnight Mission. Moon Knight takes the GIW choice of attire personally.
Tears of the Infinite Realms:
Crossover: dp x LoZ TotK
Status: Ao3; 2/? chapters; awaiting concurrent game playthrough
Worried for the fate of his world and kingdom, the First King of Hyrule requests aid from the Ghost King for the Sacred Champion.
Target: Unregistered:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Tumblr/Ao3; 1/? chapters; secondary burner
Danny has been held within a top secret experimental facility controlled by Ra's al Ghul since he was 14. He has finally managed to free himself, and now needs to find somewhere he can feel safe.
L'appel du Vide:
Crossover: dp x TMA
Status: Ao3; 1/? chapters
The Fear Entities have been expunged from the world, and find themselves in an in-between space, outside of any particular reality. The Crowning of an Infinite King looms, which Jon is sure can be no good news for the young man known as Phantom.
Going Batty:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Ao3; 1/? chapters
Having been severely injured, Danny reverts to a less complex form to recover. Cue Robin on patrol, finding a small, black and white bat huddling against one of Gotham's grotesques. He can't just leave the poor creature out here with winter approaching, and this is obviously a non-native species. He'll take care of it until he can figure out who may be smuggling animals into Gotham.
Sleep When I'm Dead:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Unposted
John Constantine is dead. Finally. Now to find out what would happen when his soul comes up for Claim… Except apparently there's a new Infinite King who just so happens to have inherited his soul.
I am Become Death:
Crossover: dpxdc
Status: Tumblr; 1/? chapters
In an attempt to make a backup plan for if Superman goes Dark, Batman has Constantine summon the only Entity known to defeat the dark version of the Man of Steel, a world-destroyer called Phantom. There's no way this could go wrong.
They'll find us (in a week):
Crossover: None currently, DP only
Status: Unposted
A mysterious disease is sweeping through ecto populations, causing ecto-entities to become lethargic and unable to fulfill their Obsessions, leaving them slowly-starving and Fading husks. Only Halfas seem resistant, and thus starts a race against time to find a cure.
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DP x TMA
Peter Lukas really should've been more careful with the fog jumpscares, especially first thing in the morning.
(Set sometime during season 4)
Danny is so violent in this AU. Literally any avatar shows up and it is On Sight XD
#dp x tma#crossover#tma#the magnus archives#dp#danny phantom#peter lukas#tma s4#tma spoilers#(just in case lol)
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DP x TMA
Danny wants special effects too!
Set during no specific episode/canon moment, sometime around season 4-5
#danny phantom#dp#danny just being dramatic lol#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#dp x tma#my art#this comic is very much Not Canon#to either TMA or my AU really lol#simply funny#danny does get his special effects#but im kinda hesitant to include my eye!danny in any of my comics#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ meh
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"Danny (Fenton/Phantom) punching Avatars because he doesn't have his ghost powers in TMA" part 2! (electric boogaloo)
.
The sight of Nikola probably uncovers some old memories...
(Set during MAG 119)
#tma spoilers#mag 119#danny phantom#dp#crossover#dp x tma#nikola orsinov#tma#the magnus archives#tma s3#tma s3 spoilers
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DP x TMA
Set during MAG 39
Danny would probably be strangely calm during the whole worm incident...
(Though no doubt screaming internally. He just has a good poker face in these kinds of situations)
#idk how to draw the worms lol#dp x tma#danny phantom#dp#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#hehehe#this is just a funny one#mag 39#tma s1#very glad i set the standard of using 3d models for my backgrounds lol#i enjoy the limited colors. it makes it a lot faster :3
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DP x TMA
Sometime during s1-s2...
#danny phantom#dp#dp x tma#elias bouchard#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#tma spoilers#tma s1#tma s2#hehehehehe#i had too much fun modelling elias' office lol#whY DOes iT FEeL liKe~ somEBoDy's WATchinG mE~
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Statement of Daniel Fenton
(1 of 1. One-shot)
#danny phantom#dp#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#HEHHEHEHHEEE#im having too much fun with clip studio hehe#i think danny would really only fit as spiral#TMA and its lore are pretty static and cant really be changed. its hard to fit danny and the ghosts into it. but spiral is def the closest#featuring skeptic up-tight jon bc im only on season 2 lol#tma is what dp wishes it could have been hehe#my art#dp x tma
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So, you saw your ending... Cool! Did you blink?
Danny Phantom x The Magnus Archives Crossover
Chapter 1
"Story of Daniel James Fenton" Allison wrote at the top of the page. The typewriter drummed in the near silence, the boy in the chair across from her gulped.
"You aren't with any institutions right? I don't want—"
"No." She assured, "I'm a StoryKeeper, not the Archivist."
"Okaaaay, I just want to make sure that—"
"No Hunters." She said, typing the line under the title. His eyes widened in confusion, then understanding, but he didn't ask.
"My parents are Hunters," He told her, whether by choice or because the compulsion had begun, it didn't matter. This StoryKeeper typed along. "Not great ones, but I think that's because of the prey, not because they're bad at hunting...
"They like ghosts, War-ghosts mostly, but they're not picky about it. As long as it's not completely tangible and used to be a living person it's good enough for them. The problem is that you can't really make a ghost feel fear, or, uh, a Hunter can't... not normally... but I'm getting ahead of myself.
"They never really gave themselves to it, to the Thing that Wants the Chase. So for a long time my sister and I just thought they were crazy. Then, when I was fourteen, they built this thing. They called it a portal, but it was really just this big electrical hazard tunnel in the basement. And I of course, waited until they'd left it alone and went to check it out..." He paused for a moment, pain suddenly lacing his face.
"I'm not telling you more about that." He snapped. Then spead through the next few words so this StoryKeeper had to focus on typing instead of the compulsion. "Not the details. I will tell you, it killed me, and I wasn't ready. So when there was a choice, I took it.
"My friends were there, they managed to revive me just before the ambulance got there..."
He hesitated again, fighting to keep the story in the direction he wanted it to go, she let him even if she wished he'd tell both tales.
"My parents blamed the ghosts. And that's how it really started. They started hunting a lot more, and war ghosts don't really run away much. They don't fear being hunted, but they do fear ending. So mom and dad do the same old same old, ghosts get scared of me, they give chase, the world has one less mindless killer and fast food is more satisfying on the way home. All fun and games, right? Well it has been, but ghosts stopped have being enough for either of us... they want to go find other monsters and they don't realize that I'm not the same thing as they are. These things already have bargains that I'm not supposed to interfere with... that I can't interfere with. And not all of them... not all of us are trying to be evil...
"They're supposed to be having these friends come over, to show us the ropes or something. I have this feeling that they're going to take one look at me and Know. So uh, that's why I'm here. I thought, maybe if The Thing that Sees has already seen me, that maybe it will let me be..."
He laughed suddenly. "But it's not like it matters is it. What's the worse that could happen? I die? Again?"
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Yes, I did post this twice, I'm trying a little experiment. See, earlier I just posted the Ao3 link, and it has gotten very little traction... I think it's cause it was just a link and no hook. So I'm posting the first chapter and we'll see if that does better. Or it yall just prefer other crossovers. I'm curious!
Ao3
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A Fresh Start (Quite the Introduction)
Danny Phantom x The Magnus Archives
Potentially a one-shot series. Or not. Idk yet! For now it's one standalone chapter :)
Word Count: 3,518
Ao3
FFnet
Summary:
Danny wasn’t exactly in the best position in his afterlife. Functionally immortal, and the biggest fish in such a small pond. There was no challenge to life. Just an endless repeat of motions.
So when Clockwork offered him an out, he took it.
It was a simple offer. Clockwork would open him a portal to a new universe, where he could try again at another life. A different life. This world was different from his own, down to the very fabric of existence.
It was amazing how quickly he got dragged into the supernatural right after universe-hopping. He must be a magnet for this kind of stuff.
Story Start!
Danny… wasn’t really sure where he was. He knew how got there, of course. Clockwork wasn’t exactly subtle.
With his friends and family gone and buried years ago, Clockwork was one of the few who Danny maintained a relationship with. Along with Frostbite, and of course Pandora. Even a few of his old childhood rivals had weaseled their way into his inner circle. But time passed, and ghosts faded.
The loss of Ember had hit the hardest and was still the freshest in his mind. She had achieved her dream of stardom. She got all she had ever wanted. And she had nothing more to keep her ‘alive’ for lack of a better word. With a smile on her face, she followed Skulker into whatever came after the afterlife.
It seemed like everyone on the planet had mourned her. There had been candlelight vigils, and her name was said more after she faded than it had ever been while she was… present. It’s what she would have wanted, more than likely.
Even Vlad had faded. When Maddie died, Vlad’s obsession died too. He was sent into a spiral, one that his ghost half never quite recovered from. He could have kept living, but every moment was a tortuous pain. His core had never been that stable to begin with, and it was tearing his human half apart just as quickly as it healed. Vlad lived longer than a human ever should, but he eventually succumbed.
Dani was still kicking, but she and Danny hadn’t talked in decades. She never aged, always looking around 12 years old. It made it hard to live for hundreds of years when people thought you a child. She traveled the world still, wanting to see everything before it changed with the tides of time. She’d crawled every inch of the globe again and again.
Before, in the beginning, she would weasel her way into various families adopting her, but after the 12th big brother died, she took a break. And never went back to it. Some of the families even knew of her condition and took her in anyways. But they had drifted apart. They just didn’t mesh very well. He was still far too human for her.
Amity Park didn’t exist even anymore.
So the culmination of all this is to say, Danny wasn’t exactly in the best position. Functionally immortal, and the biggest fish in such a small pond. There was no challenge to life. Just an endless repeat of motions.
So when Clockwork offered him an out, he took it.
It was a simple offer. Clockwork would open him a portal to a new universe, where he could try again at another life. A different life. This world was different from his own, down to the very fabric of existence.
“You won’t be quite the same,” Clockwork had explained.
“And neither will I. It is true that I exist there- I must exist everywhere, in order for a where to exist. But that… self, is quite different from this one. My powers as they exist here are an entirely different form, as here the rules are different. My being had to mold itself to these rules for my self to exist.” There, Clockwork had paused to see if Danny understood.
“Each universe has a Clockwork, but they’re all different?” He’d replied.
“Yes,” They’d nodded.
“The one you’ll interact with is quite different from myself. Very… large. Even with your existence it would take billions of years before you could grow to truly witness it.”
“That sounds… eldritch.” Danny wondered aloud. Clockwork nodded in affirmation.
“A good way to put it.”
“As my charge, you will be under the jurisdiction of my counterpart. That way I can still see you. Your own powers will surely change, and mold to fit the rules of the world you enter. It is… quite a lot.” Clockwork’s tail flicked anxiously.
“The humans there refer to it’s being as ‘The Eye.’ I’m sure you see the irony to the Observants.” Clockwork frowned, most likely remembering the pushy eyeballs.
“But it is only one of many beings that are quite similar.” Now there had been a mischievous glint in Clockwork’s eyes.
“Any more than that, you’ll have to discover yourself.”
With that, they’d risen from their chair. Clockwork assured him that, should he manage to die in that universe, Clockwork would pull him back before it could happen. And when Danny was truly done, Clockwork would do the same yet again. No matter what, Danny would still have a tie to his homeworld. For that, he was grateful.
Within minutes (why delay when you have eternity?) Danny had stepped through a portal into the unknown. He shivered with excitement.
~~~~~
So, here he was. Wherever ‘here’ was.
Danny was glad Clockwork had warned him about his powers because as soon as he stepped through the portal all sensation from his core had abruptly cut off. He highly doubted it existed here. The way Clockwork had put it, this universe sounded very different from his own.
…Except for the landmarks, it would seem, because Danny was staring right at the London Eye. Ironic, given what Clockwork had told him.
It was probably the old spirit’s idea of a joke. It did get a chuckle out of Danny.
There would, of course, be time for sightseeing later. Much later, because Danny’s stomach was growling in a way it hadn’t for millennia.
He shuffled through his pockets and found some bills. Hardly pocket ‘change’ as there was at least a thousand dollars there. Danny had inherited Vlad’s belongings, and money wasn’t really an object for him anymore. At least, back home. Here, he only had 2,000 dollars to his name. In a country that didn’t accept dollars.
Luckily he was in a tourist area. It didn’t take much asking, before he was pointed in the direction of a place where he could exchange currency. Luckily they accepted it. Which turned out to be around 1,600 pounds. He had no clue how much that meant, really.
Why had Clockwork put him in the UK, of all places? Why not the US? Not like Danny would legally exist in either place, but at least there his money would’ve worked.
Danny didn’t have time to debate Clockwork’s thought process as he had an upset stomach to deal with.
Food. A restaurant, or maybe a convenience store? Something cheap.
Danny wandered for a bit, getting even more lost than he had been before. The tourist attractions and sight-seers gave way to tight housing and apartment complexes. The places by the tourist areas were all way overpriced, or at least in Danny’s opinion. He’d asked the man at the place where he’d exchanged his currency, and he gave Danny a small pamphlet with some example conversion rates. The date on the pamphlet told him it was 2016.
Danny stopped briefly in front of a shop window to examine his appearance. Danny had stopped aging in his early twenties, but he looked even younger than that. Maybe, 19? His hair wasn’t as long as it had been. It was just barely pulled back into a ponytail. Wisps of black hair streaked with white framed his face. One of his eyes was the usual blue, but the other was a bright green. The only thing it didn’t have was the glow. He looked to be a combination of his human and ghost halves. That made him glad, that he still had all of himself. Even if he didn’t maintain his different forms. But that made sense.
Finally, Danny stumbled into a small store he vaguely recognized the logo of (a lot of things can change in thousands of years, okay?). He rummaged through what was on the shelves and grabbed whatever was most appetizing, and cheap. A lot of junk food. But oh well. He could worry about his feature health after he filled his stomach.
Danny wandered up to the register with a basket full of stuff. He counted the amounts and pulled change from his pockets. He counted the strange currency under his breath. When was the last time he had even used physical money? Which is to say he was quite distracted, and jumped seven feet high (figuratively) when suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder.
“Shi-” Danny cut himself off. The money from his hand scattered across the ground and he stumbled to pick it all up.
The intruding stranger bent down to help.
“I’m terribly sorry,” The man apologized. He handed Danny some coins, which is when he finally got a good look at the man.
He was short, squirrelly. His black hair was slicked back, and streaked with white. Much like Danny’s, ironically enough. He had a small, pencil-thin mustache. He looked almost like a cartoony villain. Then Danny kicked himself for thinking that because it was wrong to immediately label someone like that. He’d gotten too used to his thematic rogue gallery.
“I simply wanted to introduce myself. Elias Bouchard, at your service.” The man- Elias- held out his hand. Danny stuffed his money back in his pocket and returned the gesture. Elias shook his hand and then pulled him to his feet.
“I dunno why you’d want to talk to me,” Danny replied. He effortlessly put on a generic British accent, so as not to stand out as a foreigner. Language was one of Danny’s big interests. It had never failed to keep him entertained, which was a rarity. He spoke hundreds of languages, even some that had died out millennia ago in his own world. And ones that probably didn’t even exist here yet. Hm. He wasn’t sure if Ghost Speak would work here, or if it would only die out on his tongue. Something to test.
It was Danny’s turn in line, and he walked up to the cash register. He hoped Elias would take his turned back as a sign he didn’t want to talk. But sadly, Elias did not get the hint. Or he simply ignored it.
Danny offered the cashier his money, but suddenly there was an arm in what looked to be a very expensive coat stuck out in front of him. Elias grinned at Danny as he offered the cashier his card. She looked at Danny as though to ask what was going on. Danny just shrugged, and with an eye roll she accepted the card.
If this dude wanted to take time out of Danny’s day, why not let him pay for it.
“You just seem like quite the interesting person…” The pause was asking for Danny’s name. He hesitated to reply. This felt rather like a dealing with the fae. Like as soon as Danny offered his name, he’d regret it. But of course, the fae weren’t real. He was just being paranoid.
“Danny.” He replied curtly. He accepted his bags from the cashier and made for the door. Elias trailed after him. Outside of the store, Danny simply chose a direction and walked. Elias didn’t even look twice.
This was becoming bothersome.
“Danny… Is it short for something?”
“Nope.” Danny popped the ‘p’. Elias made a sound of interest.
“I don’t suppose I could ask for your second name?”
“Nope.”
“Well, Danny. I don’t suppose you are looking for work, are you?” What? Danny leveled Elias with a Look.
”You lingered for quite a while over the prices in the store.” Elias explained casually. He stuck his hands in his pockets. It did nothing to offset his formal attire.
“What would you say if I was?” Danny asked suspiciously.
“I have a… vacancy, you could call it. Well no- not technically, but we could make one. If you’d like the position.”
“What kind of ‘position’ is it?”
“An assistant, of sorts. Basically librarian work. Sorting, organizing. A bit of research. Rather easy.” Elias waved a hand in the air, as though to wave off Danny’s concerns. Huh.
Danny was rather lacking, but he wasn’t sure this offer was trustworthy. Elias himself didn’t seem trustworthy, for all of his candy-coated exterior. Danny could just feel that something was wrong. But he was desperate, honestly. He wasn’t looking forward to where he was going to be sleeping tonight. Meaning, he didn’t know where. Maybe he could get this Elias to take him in for a night.
If push came to shove, Danny could still defend himself. Even without any powers.
“Your assistant?” Danny dug further. If he was even going to consider, he needed details.
“Ah, no. You’d be assisting the Archivist. Head Archivist, I mean. Jonathan Sims.”
“He works under me. I pop in from time to time, but mostly he and his team are on their own.” Elias explained.
“What’s this place called, again?”
“Why, The Magnus Institute of course. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of us?” There was a glint in Elias’ eyes as his gaze met Danny’s. Danny felt like he was being… investigated? There was something more to Elias’ gaze than simple curiosity. But Danny kept his face neutral, and didn’t let Elias get anything more than what he was willing to offer. Which, right now, was an intrigued but wary teenager.
Danny was considering the offer seriously. Elias wasn’t even asking about any credentials, which of course he didn’t have. The biggest holdup was the man himself. But if what he was saying was true…
“If you’re in a hurry, we could even sign the paperwork tonight if you’d like. Even paid in cash, if that matters to you.” Elias offered. This had bad deal written all over it. But Danny was curious. It’d been a while since he’d been curious. Genuinely. What was this guy’s deal?
“Where is this place?”
“We’re already here.” There was a predatory glint to Elias’ smile.
Sure enough, they were. Elias must’ve guided them there. Danny hadn’t even paid attention to where they were going. He didn’t realize Elias had taken the lead. Hm.
It seemed to be a rather unassuming building. Obviously old, but nothing on the outside directly revealed what it was. Aside from a small, metal placard next to the front doors.
‘The Magnus Institute Est. 1818’ it read. So, that was legit.
“Ah…” Danny began.
“What is it, exactly, that made you so interested in me? We just met.”
“I saw you. Simple as that.” There was something beneath that smile. Ghosts didn’t tend to layer themselves like this, they were a lot more straightforward. Danny wasn’t sure who was more intrigued by the other, him or Elias.
“Let’s not dilly-dally, I’ll show you around and we can get things sorted.” Elias stepped up to the front doors and Danny followed dutifully behind. This was either gonna be really fun, or… Danny wasn’t sure quite what, yet. And that sent a thrill up his spine.
~~~~~
“Would you like to meet who would be your coworkers first, or get the paperwork sorted?” Elias questioned. They’d already toured the Library and a place called “Artifact Storage.”
Immediately Danny had been enamored by the rooms full of creepy -haunted?- objects, all carefully categorized. Elias hadn’t said exactly the nature of how the items were cursed, but he’d told Danny about a few things. Small items, mostly of inconsequence. He suspected that Elias was trying not to scare him off. Which, fair. But also Danny couldn’t help but want to know more.
Particularly about how Elias had steered him away from the bulletproof case of books.
The Library had been a bit of a let-down, but the Artifacts had drawn Danny in. He wanted to stick around, to see some of the effects for himself even. It was amazing how quickly he got dragged into the supernatural right after universe-hopping. He must be a magnet for this kind of stuff.
Danny didn’t want to get cold feet and back out of this.
“How about we head to your office?” He decided. Elias nodded and off they went, through hallways that Elias seemed to have memorized even better than the back of his hand. He was truly in his element.
Danny managed to keep up with the brisk pace, and soon enough they were walking through a door that said ‘Elias Bouchard, Head of The Magnus Institute,’ The title made it seem like Elias was way too high on the ladder to be picking up ‘employees’ on the street. But, oh well.
It was his funeral. Danny had already been to his own once before and it hadn’t been as enjoyable as one might expect.
Inside the room Elias immediately went to sit behind the desk. Danny took a rather uncomfortable-looking chair that sat in front of it.
Elias started to root around in the desk drawers and pulled out what he wanted with a flourish. It was a thick packet of paper, presumably the employment contract.
“Your title will be Archival Assistant, rate is 15 quid an hour. Though it may very well go higher depending on your performance. Typical week is Monday through Friday, nine to five. You can find more details about sick leave and vacation on the front page.” Elias spouted off details rapid-fire. Numbers flew past Danny’s hand but he managed to grasp it for the most part. If he remembered correctly, 15 quid was around 18 dollars an hour. That wasn’t too shabby, especially just starting out. When he had no qualifications. Why was Elias giving him a chance, again?
“You’ll have to head over to the financial department every two weeks to receive your pay, until we can get your bank account sorted.” At that, Elias gave Danny a pointed look as though to say, ‘I know more than you.’ Which in any other situation Danny would know wasn’t true. But in this world, it very much was.
Elias spun around the packet and produced a pen for Danny to sign with. He pointed dramatically at a dotted line.
“Just here.” He said with a smile that did not meet his eyes. Danny was getting some bad vibes from this.
He pulled the packet out from under Elias’ finger and began to leaf through it. Elias buzzed unhappily but didn’t say anything. Danny wasn’t so stupid as to sign something without knowing the contents. He leaned back lazily in his chair but didn’t venture quite so far as to put his feet on the desk. That was a bit too cocky, even for him.
But Danny very quickly got bored of all the legal jargon that whooshed over his head. Law had never been Danny’s strong suit. He tried his best to seem like he was comprehending the words, if only because it looked like it was making Elias sweat.
One page in particular stood out to Danny. Unlike the rest, he could comprehend it. And oh boy. Oh this was so shady. Danny loved it.
The page detailed how, were the head of the institute to die at the hands of an employee of the archives, those employed there would be terminated. The language was very… loose. Danny could tell what it meant though. It stood out on the page as though plain as day.
It sounded like a dead man switch. Why would an employee want to kill Elias? Why had he built that into the paperwork? Certainly something like this wasn’t simply part of this world. It was out of left field in contrast to how Elias had spoken this far. Danny could only wonder what the method would be. How could Elias ensure that those in the Archives would die if he did?
Then again, this man was absolutely entrenched in the supernatural of this world. He was at the center of a paranormal hub. Danny already knew that eldritch beings existed. Mysterious causes of death weren’t exactly outside of the range of possibility, But also, Danny couldn’t die here. So it was a moot point. It left him to wonder, though. And that was a dangerous thing.
On the same page was a paragraph saying that the head of the Institute could not be held accountable for any damage to one’s person or belongings due to supernatural causes. Which wouldn’t be all that strange, were it not on the same page.
“What are you playing at here, Elias?” Danny used the man’s first name on purpose. He looked startled for just a moment but schooled his expression very quickly.
Elias stood from his chair and planted his hands on the desk so that he was lording over Danny. He plastered a very smug smirk on his face.
“You can sign it or leave. It’s up to you.”
“But I doubt you want that, do you, hmm?” That sounded very much like a thinly-veiled threat. Huh.
Danny schooled his expression into a grin much the same as he signed on the dotted line, ‘Danny Fantom’. A fitting mix of his names, for his mixed-up appearance.
Elias’ smirk spread into a toothy smile. He held out a hand, which Danny took in kind.
“Welcome to the team.”
#danny phantom#dp#tma#the magnus archives#crossover#elias bouchard#i love to hate this man#clockwork dp#nonbinary!clockwork#dp x tma
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Text
A Fresh Start (Meet The Team (Part 1))
First Chapter
Word Count: 3,278 (6,796 in total)
Ao3
FFnet
Spoiler Warnings:
Takes place during/after MAG 4, brief/subtle reference to details given in MAG 104
I apologize now for bullying Martin so much. He's my favorite character, I swear! Season 1 Jon is simply Too Mean to him D':
Story Start!
This was simply another wrench thrown into Jon’s day. He’d just finished reading a statement regarding a troubling Leitner, and was trying to follow up on it. He already got Sasha on the job but Martin, being the slacker that he was, seemed to have left at five-o-clock on the dot. Did he know nothing of workplace etiquette?
It had started with a knock on his office door that made Jon jump. Without being invited, the door had swung open and there stood Elias.
“What can I do for you, Elias?” Jon said tiredly. He was rather busy, and didn’t appreciate the interruption. It’d been a long day.
“I have a surprise for you.” Elias said cheekily. He opened the door further and fully entered the office, trailed by a teenager.
“Meet your newest assistant.” He said as though it was a good thing.
This ‘assistant’ couldn’t have been more than a few months out of secondary school. His hair was immediately the most shocking factor. It was largely black, but with streaks of white. It made him look almost like a younger Elias. Jon couldn’t tell if his eyes were blue or green. He wore a dark blue jumper with some logo on the front and jeans. His red trainers looked like they’d seen much better days.
All in all, it could hardly be called professional apparel.
“I don’t need another assistant. I already have my hands full trying to keep track of three.” Jon said dismissively.
“I’m afraid he’s already signed the paperwork, so he’s your problem now. Toodaloo,” With that Elias turned around and the door clicked shut behind him. He could be rather insufferable sometimes. At least he kept it professional, though.
“Um, hi?” Squeaked the boy. He sounded younger than he looked.
Jon fought the urge to slam his head against his desk.
“My name’s Daniel, but I go by Danny.” He introduced himself awkwardly. No last name? Alright.
“Jonathan Sims. I typically go by Jon.” He replied.
“I don’t suppose Elias went over your duties?” He asked. Elias should have at the very least done that much.
“A bit, yeah. Though he glossed over the smaller details.” Danny explained.
Jon fought down an exasperated sigh. He stood from his desk.
“The day is technically over, but I tend to stay late. I’ll at least help you get you set up before the evening is out. We can go into more detail tomorrow.” Jon straightened a few things up on his desk. He put his tape recorder into his pocket. He didn’t like to leave it just sitting around, especially when the tape had a statement on it. He’d have to put it away properly after showing Danny around.
Jon walked over to the door and opened it, gesturing for Danny to follow. It wasn’t Danny’s fault that Jon was stressed, nor that he was uninformed. Jon would pick up where Elias had failed.
Jon walked down the hall, Danny trailing behind like a duckling. Together they reached the series of offices that belonged to Sasha, Tim, and Martin. Filing boxes spilled out into the hallway.
Luckily, there was an office that went unused. Unluckily, it was also in a state of disuse. All of the surfaces were covered in dust and there were still belongings left from the previous occupant. But it had all of the necessities, and that’s what mattered. Danny just needed a space to work. It was rather small, though.
“You’ll have to do a bit of tidying up, sorry. I just recently took over down here and things are still quite the mess.” Said Jon. Danny wandered into the room and plopped down into the office chair. That sent up a plume of dust. Danny set down a plastic bag next to the desk.
“Did something happen?” Danny asked curiously. He perused the series of books on the shelf. Jon remained standing in the doorway, leant against the frame.
“My predecessor… had to leave unexpectedly. The entire Archival team changed hands, for the better in my opinion. Seeing the mess we were left with.” Jon sighed harshly. It felt like there was sand in his eyes. He’d been staring at words for far too long now.
“Uh-huh.” Danny stared at a stain on the rug.
“I can tell.” He said cheekily.
“So… does anyone come around here after-hours aside from you?” Danny questioned.
“Sasha stayed late tonight, though I imagine she’ll be out soon. You heard me complain about Martin.” Jon spat the name. Martin was nothing but trouble.
“And Tim called in sick this morning.” Jon rolled his eyes.
“You can spend whatever time you’d like tonight tidying up, there’s some spare office supplies in a cupboard in the break room. I’ll get with you tomorrow on anything else. 9 am.” Jon informed. Danny nodded and did a mock salute.
“You got it, boss!” Oh not another one. Tim had already gotten into the habit of calling him that.
“Just Jon, please.” He chided.
“Have a good evening,” Feeling like he had instructed enough for tonight, Jon left the boy to his devices with a goodbye.
“Bye Jon!” The door creaked shut.
Hopefully the kid wouldn’t cause too much trouble. He seemed agreeable so far, if a bit lacking in manners. But people always told Jon he had too many manners, so perhaps it was simply a matter of perspective.
Jon walked past Sasha’s office to see that her door had been shut and the light was off. She must have headed out while he was getting Danny set up.
Jon’s gonna have to introduce him to everyone tomorrow, isn’t he? That’s gonna be fun.
Eager to be free of the place, Jon grabbed his bag and hurried out the door. He just barely remembered the tape recorder that he’d hastily shoved into his pocket. He thought he turned it off? Oh well. He’d just have to… splice it later. That was a thing right?
Just one more task for him to deal with.
~~~~~
Danny looked around at ‘his’ new office. Kinda shabby, but what else should he have expected? Danny had simply gotten comfortable in his plush life back home. He couldn’t remember the last time he really wanted something.
But his stomach certainly wanted something right now.
Danny opened up his bag of snacks and started to eat as he considered his new digs. The building around him creaked like all old buildings did. It was comforting. Haunting, even.
The dust would need to be done away with. He kept starting to sneeze and then it would stop right before the payoff. It was dreadful.
“Good morning, Jon,” Danny said, testing his accent aloud. Then he laughed to himself at how funny it sounded. But he hadn’t been called out on it yet, so it must be authentic enough. He trusted his skills, but it was still nice to see that he fit in enough.
It was also just fun to talk like that. The words were much more… forward in his mouth. It was strange and fun. Not to mention he was talking to natives. This was almost as fun as when Pandora praised his Greek as almost as good as her own.
The chips Danny had picked out were bland. If he’d known Elias was gonna step in to pay, he would’ve gotten more expensive snacks.
Elias. What to think about him?
There was obviously something wrong with him. Probably multiple things, if Danny was being honest. What were they though? He could guess, but honestly Danny would just have to spend more time around the man to find out what made him tick.
Heh, tick.
Speaking of ticking, there was a clock somewhere in this office that was driving Danny bonkers. Danny pushed himself out of his chair and found the offender high up on the wall, quite out of his reach. Dang.
Even though it was hopeless, Danny tried to tap into his core. He urged his body to float. He tensed every muscle hoping for his feet to leave the ground. But his feet remained solidly, stupidly, on the ground.
That was going to take some adjusting to. He was so used to floating everywhere. With the technology of his time, he didn’t even get weird looks when he did it in public.
He should’ve brought some gadgets with him. But then again, he’d been so excited for something new that he’d practically jumped through the portal. And Clockwork hadn’t mentioned that it would be in the past.
Danny begrudgingly wheeled his chair over to the wall and stood on it to try and remove the clock.
Just his luck, the chair swivelled unexpectedly and he fell flat on his butt. He just barely managed to avoid smashing his head against the corner of his desk.
Danny laid there and just tried to get his breath back, desperately hoping that nobody heard him fall.
His chest heaved. Dang, when was the last time he actually had to breathe? He actually felt lightheaded.
It was so strange and alien yet grounding at the same time. Danny had long ago stopped wanting to be fully human again. Now that he was, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Eating, breathing, they were habits he sometimes chose to indulge. But now they were necessary. It was scary and exciting at the same time.
Danny looked up at the underside of his desk. There was a piece of dried gum stuck under it -which, gross- but there was also something else.
He reached up and felt the scratches of the wood under his fingertips. It had been deeply gouged, with what he couldn’t quite tell. In thematic fashion, it was a carving of an eye. Or was it an Eye? The capitalization seemed important in his head.
What was the Eye? Or Who? Clockwork had been purposefully vague, of course. Danny was partly glad the old Clock had left it up to him to discover. But another part was frustrated. He wanted so deeply to know. To Know?
Danny huffed through his nose.
His best hope for any answers was probably Jon. Or maybe the bookshelf? This seemed like an academic place so they probably had books on this stuff. Oh, books? Like the ones in Artefact Storage…
Briefly, Danny considered a heist.
If he had his normal powerset, it would be all-too-easy. A touch of intangibility, some invisibility in case there were cameras, and he would be off scott-free. But he didn’t have his arsenal. Instead he had solid limbs and skin and weight and gravity. He didn’t have any special abilities. At least, not as far as he was aware.
And he had just started working here. If he got caught, he didn’t want to burn this bridge. For all he had once yearned for mundanity, it was never Danny’s style. He’d been entrenched in the supernatural before he was even born. It was in his blood. Literally. At least, back home it was. Here, he didn’t know what color he would bleed. Probably red, but he didn’t know for sure.
There were so many things he didn’t know.
One thing was for certain, as Danny suffered through yet another aborted sneeze, he had some cleaning to do.
~~~~~
Jon came into the office at 8. He had snapped awake at 6 in the morning, and hadn’t managed to get back to sleep. He tossed and turned but couldn’t find any degree of comfort. So he decided to do something productive with himself and went into the office early.
It was at 8:15 that he found Danny-last-name-not-yet-given curled up asleep with an old curtain in his sparkling clean office. Jon balked.
Was this kid homeless?! Was that why Elias was so eager to give him a job?
They looked kind of similar, maybe this was nepotism? But Jon couldn’t recall Elias ever mentioning any family. Or friends, for that matter. But they rarely talked about anything outside of work.
He was sleeping so peacefully, Jon couldn’t bring himself to wake him. He really looked like a child when asleep.
But Jon really couldn’t just allow him to sleep there. On the floor, that is. He vaguely remembered seeing a few cots stacked up in a storage closet in the Archives themselves. He had no clue why they were there, but Danny would likely benefit from one. Maybe he could sneak one into-
Wait. What was he doing? Jon owed this kid nothing. If he wanted a cot so that he could sleep at work, then he would have to get it himself. He was grown. Grown enough to know that he really should not be crashing at his workplace, especially on his first day.
But then again, did he trust the kid in the Archives? He was brand new. They hadn’t even really discussed the actual details.
Jon bit his fingernails as he waltzed down to the Archives and pulled out a cot. He stashed it away in his office between a bookshelf and the wall. He then resolved to tell Danny about it when the day was done. After he found out why Danny had stayed there overnight.
Best case scenario, he simply fell asleep in the midst of cleaning and didn’t have the chance to go home.
Worst case, he was completely homeless and planned on living out of his office. If that was true, Jon could try to nudge him into getting a place after he got paid. At the very least today he could tell Danny that he should start looking at places. There was a computer with internet in his office.
Expectations set, Jon decided to set that aside for later. Much later it would seem, as just after he sat back down he heard the sound of a door opening.
Tim’s head popped in soon after.
“Morning, Boss.” He greeted then left just as quickly as he had appeared. Jon didn’t even have the chance to warn him.
A loud scream pierced the air. Jon rushed to his feet and emerged just in time to see Tim bursting out of the breakroom.
“There’s a zombie in there!” He declared. Tim jumped behind Jon and started pushing him towards the door. Was this a sacrifice?! Jon dug his feet stubbornly into the carpet.
“Zombies are not real, Tim. Of all people, you should know that! Zombies are simply a figment of-”
“-of somebody’s imagination that became accepted by the public consciousness. Yeah, yeah I know.”
“But you won’t be saying that when it eats you!” Tim shoved Jon and he went pinwheeling forward into the break room. Then he went and ducked out of sight.
Jon just barely managed to save face by bracing against a table. He made eye contact with a very frumpled Danny who was standing hunched over the coffee maker. His hair was a mess and there was a dried line of drool on his chin.
Danny at least had to tact to look appalled. He turned away immediately and wiped his chin.
“Tim!” Jon whipped around. The guilty party popped his head in.
“It didn’t eat you?” Tim sounded puzzled.
“I’ve been accused of being many things, but surprisingly a zombie is not one of them.” Danny said tiredly. He yawned and stretched. His joints popped to a concerning degree.
“Ghost, corpse, vampire, cosplayer. And probably more I’m forgetting.” Danny said as though that out-of-the-blue statement was no cause for concern.
The coffee maker groaned to a stop and Danny practically pounced on it.
“I’ve seen many things here, but a random kid showing up is not one of them.” Apparently Tim felt safe enough, as he entered the room fully. He stared intently at Jon.
“What?” Jon asked indignantly.
Tim squinted at Danny. There were cogs turning in his head and Jon did not like where he thought they might be going.
Finally Tim got up the courage to voice his thought.
“Is he related to Elias?”
Danny choked on his coffee. He coughed somewhere deep inside his chest and tried desperately to breathe despite the scalding in his throat.
“N-no!” He sputtered hoarsely.
“No, I am not related to Elias. I just met him yesterday!”
“Well we know he’s not related to Martin.” Tim added. He held up a hand to his eye like it was a monocle. Was he trying to look like Sherlock?
“Why do you say that?” Asked Jon.
“He put tea leaves in the coffee maker.”
“I what-? Oh.” Danny looked down at his cup. He swirled it around and a grimace passed his face.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these, ok? Gimme a break.” Danny huffed. He dumped the pot of ‘coffee’ down the sink.
That was another point for Jon’s ‘homeless’ theory.
“This is Daniel- Danny. Elias decided we needed even more hands down here.” Jon rolled his eyes. It was busy enough with just the four of them. Sure they were a bit behind where Jon would like to be, but that was largely due to dead weight. Tim and Sasha did their jobs… not wonderfully, but well enough. They were managing.
Well. He’d just have to find out what Elias saw in Danny.
Tim took a moment too long to respond. He stared off into space, then rapidly blinked away the moment of reverie.
“Welcome!” Tim said warmly. He held out a hand for a high five.
Danny stared at it for a moment, cogs turning in his brain, before finally returning the gesture.
Tim stood there awkwardly.
“Well- uh, as much as I’d like to get to know you, I’ve got some… stuff I gotta get to.” Tim quickly excused himself from the room. But he failed to look where he was going, and managed to bump right into Martin.
“Oh- sorry,” Martin apologized.
“Didn’t see you there Tim.”
“No sweat. See ya!” He sidestepped past Martin in the doorway and broke free.
Martin watched him leave, confused.
“Do I smell tea?” He asked, incredulously. Just then he seemed to notice Jon was there. He immediately looked down at his shoes.
“Sorry. I’m not very familiar with this thing.”
Martin puzzled silently over the newcomer, looking between Danny and Jon.
"Hi! I'm Danny. As of about..." Danny squinted at the clock on the wall.
"-13 hours ago, I work here."
“Oh-! I uh, I didn’t know we were expecting anyone?” Martin looked to Jon.
“Neither did I. But, he’s here now.” Jon reasoned.
“Right.” Martin said curtly. He watched as Danny fumbled with the coffee pot again.
“Do you want some help?” Martin offered. He put his hand out to stop Danny before he poured grounds in the machine without a filter.
“Yes please.” Danny said brightly. Martin set about showing him how to use the coffee pot.
Hmm. That was an idea.
“Daniel? How would you feel about having Martin show you the ropes?” Jon asked. Martin sputtered, which was to be expected. Which was why Jon directed the question at Danny.
“Oh! Uh, I’d like that. If it’s okay with you Martin?”
“Okay, yes! I can do that.” Martin nodded determinedly. Good, now Jon could get back to his own research. He might even get another Statement in today. If his eyes cooperated. It still felt like blinking through sand, even though he was wide awake. Maybe he should invest in some eye drops.
“Thank-you,” And with that, Jon left them to their own devices. Martin couldn’t mess this up too badly. The smell of fresh coffee followed him out the door.
#danny phantom#crossover#dp x tma#the magnus archives#dp#tma#tim stoker#martin blackwood#martin k blackwood#jon sims#my fic
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