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five-rivers · 27 days

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Phic Phight Fic for Avi!

Danny may have been a superhero. He may have been annoying. He may even have been ‘practically an adult.’ He was still Jazz’s little brother. The one who had once begged her for play time and increasingly baffling milkshake combinations. The one who helped her fight reanimated turkeys every Christmas. The one who painstakingly researched what books to give her for her birthday.

So, it wasn't so much a choice to throw herself between him and her parents’ newest and most worrying weapon as it was a reflex. If any thought crossed her mind while she dashed across the parking lot and into the path of the beam, it was either this is going to hurt or I hope I'm fast enough.

Well, it didn't hurt. It did drop her in the Ghost Zone. Immediately, She whirled, trying to find the portal.

Way back, when she and Danny had come clean about their respective secrets, Danny had sat her down for what he called his ‘Ghost Zone Survival Guide.’

“Okay,” he'd said, spinning in his spinny chair, “Ghost Zone survival, part one. Don't go there.”

Tucker had snorted. Jazz, who had taken out a fresh notebook and her special note-taking gel pens, glared at him.

“I'm serious,” Danny had defended himself. “The Zone isn't a good place for humans.”

“Why?”

“Do you want some reason other than it operating under different laws of physics and being full of super-powered people who don't care if they kill you by mistake? The radiation, maybe?”

“Never mind. Go ahead.”

“That's what I thought. Anyway, if you wind up going through an unstable or temporary portal, the first thing you need to do is go back through that portal. Like, forget about anything else that's going on. Fights, escapes, your car, other people, get yourself back through.”

“That seems a bit callous,” Jazz had said.

“Well, maybe. But the Ghost Zone is huge, and natural portals and temporary portals aren't just unstable in space, they're unstable in time.”

“They could spit you out in my first life, the middle ages, a thousand years in the future, you name it,” Tucker had helpfully added.

“First life?”

“Don't worry about it,” Danny had said.

“Pharaonic Egypt,” Tucker had answered.

“The point is,” Danny had continued loudly, “you don't want to take a chance with portals unless you know they're stable or have the Infi-Map.”

“Or time grandpa has your back.”

“Stop calling him that.”

“Who is–”

“It doesn't matter. He doesn't have your back. He doesn't have anyone's back.”

Tucker had made a noise of negation. “He has your back.”

Danny had responded by beaning his friend with a pillow.

Somehow, despite being genuinely informative, Jazz had come away from the ‘lesson’ With more questions than answers. None of which were pertinent to her present situation.

She turned on the spot again, surveying her surroundings in more detail. It didn't help. No matter which direction she turned in, there was no portal.

So. Step one: failed.

Onto step two.

“What if I can't get back through the portal though?” Jazz had asked.

“Well, if you aren't being actively attacked–”

“You should definitely take care of that first if you are.”

“If you aren't under attack, see if you can spot any landmarks. If you can see one, you'll at least have a general idea of where you are. Mostly.”

“We're making a map,” Tucker had said, “but it sucks.”

“That's not a comment on our self-confidence or whatever,” Danny had said before Jazz could interject. “Stuff moves in the Ghost Zone. It's kind of like trying to make a map of the solar system. If you're sitting on Jupiter, you know where the sun is, and you've got a pretty good idea about the inner planets, but unless you have a model you can put the time into, you're not going to have any idea where Pluto is.”

“And you wouldn't know the right time, either,” Jazz had said, contemplatively.

“Exactly. But landmarks are still good. They'll give you your general area, at least. And maybe what else is around, too.” He'd given her a photo album full of Ghost Zone landmarks, then, and they'd spent the next half hour going through them.

Jazz was on a floating island. It was medium-sized, perhaps a dozen or so acres square on this side, full of softly rolling hills covered with purple grass and pale green flowers. As far as Jazz could tell, there wasn't anything else on it, although that didn't mean there wasn't. It didn’t look like any place she'd seen or heard of.

Offshore, the Zone was a moderately-familiar green-on-green. Foggy ectoplasm and the lack of anything like a horizon made it difficult to judge distances.

There were a few other islands Jazz could see. Something like a mountain range, a floating sphere, and, just on the edge of her vision, a slightly more regular conglomeration of shapes that could have been a town.

Bingo.

“If you don't recognize anything, do your best to head towards civilization.”

Jazz had raised an eyebrow at that. “Despite the super-powered people who don't care if I die?”

“She’s got you there, Danny my man.”

“Ugh, why couldn't Sam have been here?”

“Gasp, don't tell me you forgot the mega-ultra-turbo grounding already? How could you?”

Danny had thrown another pillow at Tucker. “You're so unhelpful. Anyway, people are dangerous, but they're also the only place you're going to get directions.”

“And if I see something, how do I get there? Considering everything is a flying island.”

“That’s a bit tricky.”

Jazz bounced on her the balls of her feet, staring down the green void between herself and her destination. She’d never done this before, and despite Danny and Tucker’s attempts at an explanation, or even Sam’s later on… Well, she felt like she should’ve convinced them to bring her to the Ghost Zone to practice.

There was nothing she could do but try. She closed her eyes and jumped into the air, believing she could fly with all her might. Her feet hit the ground again. Damn.

One, two, three, she tried again, and again, and again, and then, finally, when she got mad, when she got frustrated, her feet left the ground and stayed off the ground. She was flying, like only a human in the Ghost Zone could fly.

She opened her eyes and looked over to the distant probably-town. It was just as distant as before. And now she was exhausted from jumping. Both the jumping right now, and the jumping into the line of fire she’d done earlier.

Well, no time like the present to get going. She took off.

The little details of Danny’s advice hadn’t stuck with her - he’d really waxed poetic - but she was still able to move forward. She also spent a lot of time moving down whenever her concentration slipped. Of course, she knew it wasn’t really down, thanks to those same conversations with Danny. It was just the direction she perceived as down, or something like that.

Danny liked flying like this. Danny liked every method of flying to ever exist. Jazz, personally, hated it. A lot. Every minute that passed, every time she slipped, she was terrified that she would go plunging into the murky depths of the Zone, never to be seen again.

Danny hadn’t been wrong about the Ghost Zone not being good for humans.

Thank goodness the town really was a town. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if it wasn’t.

“If I do get to civilization–”

“--or what passes for it–” Tucker had said.

“--what do I do then? Be polite, I assume, but what’s polite for ghosts? What are the cultural touchstones? The social norms?”

“Dunno,” Danny had said. “It’s not like ghosts are just one big group that’s all the same. But if you get to a group of ghosts, like, I don’t know a village or something, they’ll all probably be fairly tolerant. To live together without fighting, you know? Normal politeness will be fine. Probably. Assuming they can speak English.”

She managed a landing at the edge of the town. She hit too hard, and her knees buckled. A few ghosts stopped what they were doing - she didn’t know what, couldn’t spare the attention while flying - to stare at her. With an effort she smiled at them. Closed lips. Many cultures considered smiles with teeth to be aggressive or rude.

“Hi,” she said. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Kio? Kio ŝi diris?”

“Mi ne scias, mi ne parolas la francan.”

Ah. She should’ve taken up Tucker’s offer to teach her some basic Esperanto. Danny was never going to let her live this down.

“Okay, so, what do I do if they don’t speak English?” she’d asked.

“Get good at charades? You probably won’t be able to get good directions without speaking the language - I have no idea how you’d do the portal in charades - but you can trade stuff. Bargain, barter, whatever you want to call it.”

“For food? Supplies?”

“Eh, not food, actually. Ghost Zone food is mostly ectoplasm. Not good for humans.”

“Then what? Well, you’ll think it’s crazy, but…”

Somehow or another, she got the idea of marketplace and trade across to the ghosts. Apparently the Esperanto word was related to the English. Cousins. Brothers. Whatever, it didn’t matter.

What did matter was what she was going to trade to the ghosts. All she had was her purse, and for a teenage girl, she traveled light. She had her wallet, parking change, a small handful of coupons, number two pencils, a pencil sharpener, a pen, various hygiene products, lipstick, laser, lipstick laser, sunscreen, the universal pocket psychology guide, granola bars, a screwdriver, a couple of bolts from the Peeler - if only she kept that in her purse - spiked bracelet from Spike, phone, and, okay, she didn’t pack that light. There should be something in all this that the ghosts here would probably like.

The ghosts who had seen her less-than-stellar landing ushered her to a colorful, cloth-covered stall, the contents of which looked like the detritus of a million flea markets. The ghost… manning it? Ghosting it? Haunting it? What was the terminology in this case? Whatever. The ghost at the stall was pale green and nondescript except for the swathes of polka-dotted cloth wrapped around their body.

They stared at her with wide eyes. “Ĉu tio estas homo? Viva homo?”

She smiled, forcefully. That didn’t sound like a hello, but she’d take it. “Hello,” she said. “Do you have any boxes?” She made the shape of a box with her hands.

“The Box Ghost? You’re saying that if I can’t get directions, my next step is to try to summon the Box Ghost?”

“Hey, believe it or not I’ve got an agreement with a lot of the regulars. If they bring back lost humans, they get, um. A nonlethal free day. In Amity Park. I can get you a list. And even if you end up in a weird time, like, before I made the deal or something, the Box Ghost is pretty easy. Worst case scenario, you can even let Walker catch you. He always sends humans back.”

Jazz sat on the edge of the town, a cardboard box in hand, purse lighter by a novelty pencil sharpener and the spare screws and bolts. “Oh, great and powerful and completely terrifying Box Ghost,” she said, feeling ridiculous. “I have an offering for your awful, terribleness. It’s cubical and cardboard-ical. Cardboard. Whatever.” She sighed. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“DID SOMEONE CALL UPON THE FRIGHTENING AND FRIGHTFUL BOX GHOST, MASTER OF RECTANGULAR CARDBOARD PACKAGES?”

Jazz shrieked and almost fell off the island.

The Box Ghost blinked down at her. “Beware?” he said.

“Hi,” said Jazz. “A gift?” She held up the box.

“THE CARDBOARD IS MINE!” He leaped on the box and held it to his chest like a baby. “What do you want from the HORRIFYING BOX GHOST?”

“So, uh, I know you have a deal with my brother?”

“WHOMST?”

“My brother,” repeated Jazz. “Danny. Phantom?”

The Box Ghost stared at her blankly.

“To get humans back to Amity Park?”

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT KNOW THE REALM OF WHICH YOU SPEAK?”

That wasn’t good. The opposite, really. If the Box Ghost didn’t recognize Danny’s name…

“What if I am in the past?” Jazz had asked.

“Get back to Earth anyway, and survive. Find a way to get a message to the present. Between the Infi-Map and, um, other contacts I have–”

“Time grandpa,” Tucker interjected.

“I should be able to go get you if I know where and when you are. But I need to know when and where you are.”

Then, Jazz had asked why he couldn't just pick her up at the exact moment she'd arrived, if he was going to time travel anyway, and that had spurred a migrane-inducing argument about paradoxes. Jazz had gotten the impression that the real reason was more along the lines of ‘Danny isn’t allowed to have any more paradoxes’ than ‘the universe won't let paradoxes exist.’

Jazz smiled thinly. “Can you get me to Earth?” she asked. “Please? It’ll be worth your while.”

“Worth the while of the GREAT BOX GHOST?”

“Yep. It might take a while, but you’ll get more of those.” She nodded towards the box in the ghost’s arms. “Consider it an investment in future, um, fear.”

“FEAR?”

“Yes. As in, um, fear me?”

“No, you shall FEAR ME!”

“Exactly,” said Jazz. “Just like that. Can you do it? Or… is it beyond the powers of even the Box Ghost?”

“NOTHING IS BEYOND THE BOX GHOST! I AM EXTREME IN EVERY WAY! THE BOX GHOST WILL SHOW THE STRANGE GIRL WITH GIFTS THE WAY TO HIS SECRET PORTAL!”

At least something was going right. “Thanks,” Jazz said. “That sounds great. I really appreciate it. Where is it?”

“FOLLOW ME!” The Box Ghost paused. “AND FEAR ME!”

He flew off, and Jazz struggled to keep up. Luckily, the Box Ghost was courteous enough to stop for her every once in a while. The flight seemed to go on forever, but, eventually, they came to a stop in front of a twisting, spluttering portal.

“Does this really lead to the Earth?” Jazz asked.

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE!”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just… is it always so sparky?”

“IT IS UNSTABLE! ONLY THE BOX GHOST IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO USE IT!”

Which meant that it could spit her out anywhere, at any time. But at least she’d be on Earth, AKA somewhere she could eat the food and drink the water.

“It doesn’t come out above an ocean, does it?”

“THERE ARE NO BOXES IN THE OCEAN. THE BOX GHOST HAS NO USE FOR IT.”

“What about crab pots?” asked Jazz.

“THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH THE COUNCILS OF CRABS.”

Jazz… wasn’t going to examine that too closely. She braced herself and flew into the portal. The transition this time wasn’t the smooth, blink-and-you’re-in-another-dimension it had been with her parents’ weapon. It had turbulence, and lots of it. It was like being in a washing machine. Or a blender. A really fast blender. One that pulsed and shook and sang a song while it was at it.

It spit her out ten feet above ground. It wouldn’t have been a problem for a ghost, but for a human… Well, at least she didn’t break any bones. Instead, she laid, winded, on the ground. Tall grass framed her vision on all sides. The sun was hot overhead. Which was… less than ideal. It had been Autumn this morning. However long from now that was.

Jazz rubbed her temples. All she had to do was send a message, satisfy Danny’s no-paradox rule, and then she’d be home. Until then, she would survive. She refused to saddle Danny with the guilt associated with her disappearing.

She got up. Looked around. There was a dirt road. She staggered over to it and flipped a coin to decide whether to go left or right. Left it was.

She grew steadier as she walked, but the heat was punishing. She took off her sweater and was tempted to take her shirt off, too. She was wearing a sports bra underneath. It wasn’t like it’d be indecent.

Unless she’d been dropped into the eighteen hundreds. Best not to risk it.

The dirt road became gravel, became poorly-paved asphalt, merged onto another, bigger road… A road with a recognizable name. Jazz wasn’t that far away from Amity Park. She could probably even call… home…

“I’m stupid,” she said out loud. She pulled out her phone. No service. Typical. She kept walking. And walking. And walking.

And then she saw the smoke. Right where Amity Park should be. She ran, then.

She crested the hill, passed the Welcome to Amity Park sign - something was off about it, but she didn’t stop to try and see what it was. She hit the top of the next hill and stopped.

That– That wasn’t Amity Park. At least, it wasn’t her Amity Park. The buildings were bigger. Shinier. Whiter, even. The logo for the GIW sat proudly on one of the tallest ones.

And so many of them were smashed. Burning. Green blurs swirled and fought with white ones. She sat down.

“And what if I wind up in the future instead?”

“I don't know, hope the rest of us don't cause the apocalypse before you get back?”

There was one more explosion, and then a high-pitched wail, a ghostly wail, threw all of the shapes back and away. The white ones didn’t come back.

Jazz… wasn’t sure what to do. She watched. She waited.

And then a familiar shape appeared out of the air in front of her. It was Danny, but… not. He was thinner. Sharper. There was silver and ice in his hair, and blood and ectoplasm on his face. “Hi, Jazz,” he said, smiling sheepishly despite the dark gleam in his eyes. “Well… it isn’t the apocalypse, so…” He spread his hands to either side, and the GIW building behind him fell over. “Welcome home?”

#phic phight 2024 #phic phight #danny phantom #fic #jazz fenton

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petite-phthora · 8 months

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Take care...

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 11]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Their first stop was a small café near Robinson Park; Alysia's Boba Bar & Café. After each of them had placed their order, with Jason paying, saying it was ‘his treat’ and that ‘he had promised he’d be the one paying earlier’, they took their food outside.

They did get some stares from the customers and employees, mainly aimed at Jason who’s wearing his Red Hood gear, but they just ignored them minus some intimidation from Jason from afar.

Though, Jason wasn’t quite sure if Danny actually ignored them or just blatantly didn’t even notice them.

Either way, they were currently sitting on a bench in the park. Jason had taken his helmet off and put it next to him so that he could eat, still wearing his domino mask anyway. He’s also still wearing the watch Danny had gifted him.

And he’s never taking that off, holy shit he loves it so much.

Danny is sipping on the leftovers of his boba, having already scarfed down his sandwich. Jason starts his tour, telling him about Robinson Park and pointing out Gotham Zoo right next to it.

After they’re both done with their food, Jason puts his helmet back on and they get back onto his motorcycle so he can point out important landmarks while driving around.

Jason and Danny proceed to chat a bit during the ride as well, just some basic stuff to get to know one another; favorite color, favorite food, how they would disarm someone with a gun and de-escalate the situation, opinions on otters and how they hold onto each other so they don’t drift away, favorite movies, etc.

And Jason is desperately trying to focus on driving instead of Danny’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

---

"Over there is the Iceberg lounge."

Danny’s gaze follows where Jason is pointing, falling on a big two-story building with a sign on the outside reading ‘Iceberg Lounge’.

"It's a nightclub owned by the Penguin, one of Batman’s rogues. It’s mainly just a front for his criminal activities, but the nightclub itself is actually pretty good to be fair. Bit posh though"

---

"See that big tower in the middle there? That's Wayne Tower. It's basically the office building of Wayne Enterprises, the company owned by Gotham’s very own multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne." Red Hood says, sarcasm dripping off of his words at the end.

Danny lets out a small non-committal hum.

“You don’t sound too fond of him” Danny inquiries curiously.

“I’m not“ Red Hood states, not elaborating in the slightest.

Danny tries to lighten the mood a little “Well, as long as he doesn’t try to adopt me I guess he’s still better than another millionaire I know.”

Danny smiles as he hears Red Hood laugh.

---

"Over there’s Gotham City Public Library. It’s one of my favorite places in the city. I tend to go there at least once a week. They’ve got a ton of books and are willing to order any they don’t have at request. There’s also some computers there that are free for public use."

"You like reading?" Danny asks curiously.

"Mhmm. I'm mainly in the classics like Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, Jane Austen, Mary Shelley, etc."

“Oh, nice. I don’t usually read much. English was basically my worst subject at school, but the teacher was pretty good. Kind of ended up being one of the only ones in my corner and he really tried his best, y’know?”

“He sounds pretty nice. Is there a reason you haven’t read much, like lack of interest or…?” Jason trails off questioningly.

Danny shrugs “I guess I never really had the time as a teenager, with an added lack of motivation on top. And now… I guess I don’t really know what kind of books I’d like or where I should start.”

“I could recommend you some? If you want me to?”

“Sure, that’d be nice”

---

"The large building over there is Arkham Asylum. It's basically a psychiatric hospital. Batman dumps all of his rogues here, though they keep breaking out."

"Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place. My older sister applied to work here"

"Dr. Jasmine Fenton?" Jason questions, even if he was already pretty sure who Danny was referring to.

"Mhmm,” Danny nods, “she recently gained her doctorate and wants to be a psychiatrist at Arkham"

"... I wish her good luck" Is the response Jason decides on.

"I’m sure she can do it" Danny proclaims, somehow embodying the :D smiley face.

Jason considers the possibility of her having similar meta powers to her brother and decides that if she does she'll probably be fine.

Not to mention she has Danny in her corner… And Red Hood now as well.

---

"What's that building over there?" Danny asks as they're driving on one of the roads on the outskirts of the main part of the city.

Jason looks at where he's pointing, spotting the manor.

"That's Wayne Manor. Do you remember that millionaire I mentioned earlier? The one that owns Wayne Tower and WE? That's where he lives."

Danny sounds a little surprised as he asks "He lives in that huge building? All by himself?"

"Well, not really. He has some kids, most of whom are adopted though you wouldn’t believe the field day the press had when it was found out he had a biological son. Besides them, he also has a butler that lives at the manor”

Once again, it seems Danny has noticed Jason’s standoffish attitude at Wayne, as he tries to lighten the mood a little.

"That manor is still way too big for all of them. Like what are they doing with all of that space? Are they hiding something? I bet they have a huge secret basement underneath the manor with some kind of laboratory and some shit. Millionaires seem to love those."

Jason lets out a surprised laugh at how on-the-nose Danny is, making Danny grin at his successful attempt to lighten the mood a little. Though it makes him question for a little bit…

He doesn’t know, right? Or does he…

"You know, I think the manor is actually missing something" Danny speaks up again.

"Oh? And what’s that?" Jason asks with humor in his tone.

"It would look way better TPed" Danny states confidently, bearing a mischievous grin.

Jason barks out a laugh, a sharp grin on his face.

"Let's save that for the next date, Doll"

Danny lets out a slightly giddy laugh, his cheeks red and heart beating just a little faster at both the 'next date‘ part and the unexpected, but not unwelcome, nickname.

---

“And this,” Jason says, as he gestures proudly towards the streets around them, “is Crime Alley, which is my turf in this city. I’m the one protecting this place.”

Jason had brought Danny to Crime Alley as the last stop on their date.

“Oh yeah!” Danny speaks up. “I was wondering about that!”

Jason turns to him questioningly and Danny takes it as a sign to continue.

“Yeah so, why is it called crime alley?” he asks curiously with a tilt of his head.

Say what now?

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Are you serious?” Jason asks genuinely curious, gesturing at the drug deal taking place behind them, the mugger that’s running past, and towards the right where gunshots can clearly be heard.

To his credit, Danny doesn’t falter at all, giving Jason a smile and continuing.

“Yeah, I thought it was called Park Row or something like that. Did it get renamed?”

Jason closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before letting out a strained “Something like that…”

He takes another deep breath before looking back at Danny, who’s still looking at him with a bright smile.

“Is there really no reason you can think of why this place would get nicknamed crime alley? Not one reason at all? None?”

A small explosion sounds and some metal shrapnel falls in little pieces around them. A car tire rolls past. Danny and Jason don’t look away from one another.

Danny ‘grew up with mad scientist parents, an OSHA-violating lab in the basement, fighting ghosts, causing property damage, evading ghost police, fighting a king, is pretty certain his parents have been committing some kind of tax evasion for their research funding, etc., etc. though none of that was really an excuse as his friends and sister didn’t turn out quite as blind to danger as him.’ Fenton thinks about it for barely a second before shrugging.

“No, not really. Why?”

“This is where the Joker attacked you.” Jason tries pointing out, causing Danny to take a good look around them.

“Oh, that’s right! I was wondering why this place looked so familiar! I gotta say, it looks different in the daylight. But I mean, that attack could’ve happened anywhere, couldn’t it? What’s so special about this place?”

God, how can he be so smart yet so stupid?

Now is really not the time to kiss him, Jason.

“It’s… just a nickname, given to the district by the Gothamites. Poverty runs rampant and the crime rates here are… above average, let’s say, when compared to the rest of Gotham. Only old rich folks still call it Park Row” Is what Jason decides to say.

“So yeah, it’s probably best if you try to avoid this place, especially at night. Though God knows you can handle yourself, considering the way you went at the Joker” Danny snorts at the innuendo.

“It’s still better to be safe than sorry and keep away from this place, unless you’re with me. The people around here know better than to mess with me and the people I’m with, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Hmmm, are you sure the crime rates are higher here?”

On their left, a guy dressed in a gray hoodie with suspicious dark red stains on it runs at a car, gets in, and drives off as fast as he can with the car alarm still going off.

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll try to keep that in mind then”

God have mercy.

---

Red Hood had driven them back to Danny’s apartment after their date in order to drop him off. Meanwhile, Danny is still not quite over the fact that he can actually call it a date!

After they both get off of the motorcycle, Red Hood walks him the few feet to the front door of his apartment building, and it’s time for them to say goodbye again.

Do they kiss now? Or should he wait till the next date?

Danny really wants to kiss him right now.

But he’s wearing his helmet so it would be awkward as fuck.

Especially if he had to ask Red Hood to take it off.

No, Danny can’t do that. Just no, he’d have his second death, this time of embarrassment instead of electricity. It’s some variation at least?

“See you later, —”

Danny cuts himself off with a not-so-subtle fake cough, cheeks heating up in embarrassment at what he was about to say. He had almost let out another cringy animal-themed goodbye, just like last time.

Great going, Fenton. Despite not going for the kiss, he still managed to almost fuck it up.

It’s like he’s digging himself a bigger hole by the minute.

Red Hood stops walking and pauses. Seeing this, Danny lowers his head to stare at the ground, his body stiff.

---

Jason can’t quite believe he’s doing this, and if any of the bats heard him, he’d never hear the end of it. But… to put Danny at ease…

“Take Care, Polar Bear”

The sentence makes Danny snap his head back up immediately. His mouth is slightly open, as though he’s trying to come up with something to say and failing.

Not waiting for Danny to answer him, Jason starts moving towards his motorcycle again.

Danny, with his cheeks still slightly red, stares at the leaving figure of Red Hood. His gaze is full of adoration, as he just falls a little deeper for the helmed vigilante.

Jason is thankful the helmet obscures Danny’s view of his blushing face as he gets on his motorcycle. He gives one last wave to Danny before revving the engine and leaving for his apartment.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #ah the cringy animal goodbyes #it’s becoming their thing ^-^#also #the crimes that are happening around them are a bit of an exaggeration #and usually there wouldn't be this much happening in the daylight and with Red Hood around #plus normally Jason would've probably done something about at least some of it #but i wanted to add this stuff in for the comedic sense of the scene #oh and I know I usually try to keep chapter length consistency #and like i know this chapter is longer than the rest #but I just really wanted to include that last part into this chapter #and I didn't feel like cuttin9 the chapter in half #so yeah #like I've had the last part of this chapter written since like chapter 6 #but I just kept adding in more in between scenes to make the story flow a bit better #while writing this chap i was really unsure if it was date-y enough #so let's hope i managed it :)

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asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog · 8 months

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Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Danny lands in a strange new place

Word count: 1127

Chapter 3: Home

3/?

The portal didn’t lead him to Amity Park. The air felt different here… In Amity, the air itself felt heavy from all the ectoplasm that seeped into the very earth of the town. Here, while it still was heavy with something, it wasn’t the same almost tangy zest of Amity’s ectoplasm. It was more diluted, but still there under the surface.

The portal closed up like a ziplock bag, and the seam melded into the background, as if it was never there. Danny frantically clawed and ripped at the space that once could lead him home. He probably looked like a mad man as he desperately grasped at nothing. He could still feel it, just beyond, like an itch that was just below the skin.

Danny didn’t know how long he slashed at the empty space. He threw his arms over his head and hammered them down in the air in frustration. The alleyway he had landed in was bathed green from the light of his ‘scary eyes’ and they felt cold in his sockets. If the Fruitloop was there he would probably taunt and mock him for his temper.

His relationship with the old man had cooled over the years to a general dislike rather than outright hatred. They formed a truce after Dani (or Elle as she now liked to be called) almost got destabilized. Despite her starting out as a pseudo Danny, Vlad had begun to view her like an actual daughter, resolved to take care of her. Danny could respect the man for trying to change. After that, Vald became the uncle he could almost go to for his troubles. Almost. He was still a Fruitloop.

Danny ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath in. He didn’t need to breathe while in his ghost form, but it was still a relaxing ritual. His eyes dimmed back to their constant glow, only lighting features of his own face than the alley. Frostbite had told him once before how fickle natural portals were. Time and space had to overlap in perfect conditions to form one, and they were never open for long, unless an outside force gave it enough energy. His parents' portal was a stretched out natural portal being pulled apart and held together by an abundance of ectoplasm.

One thing was for sure tonight. He wasn’t getting home.

Danny crossed his legs and floated above the ground, not wanting to touch the dark puddles that wetted the alley. He had no clue where he was. He never heard of a town with this level of ecto-radiation. Or it could just be that he was on a ley-line as those were known for natural portals and an abundance of ectoplasm.

Danny blew out a hollow sign as he righted himself to go fly and explore. He needed to find any landmarks or architecture that he could recognize, and you can’t get a good idea where you’re at by an alley. He could be in a different country for all he knew.

He flew above what he now knew to be a city. He kept himself invisible and intangible to conserve energy (since it was the natural state of ghosts) and stealth. He did not need to alert the GIW where he was.

The pollution wasn’t bad enough where there were plumes of smog in the air, but it wasn’t good enough to see the sky clearly. Ideally, Danny could get a sense of where he was with the stars, but knowing star locations and their hemispheres, and being able to tell where you're at in the world, are two different skills. Interconnected, yes, but different, nonetheless.

Flying around Danny couldn’t recognize any landmarks from other countries or domestic, so that was a bust. The only real clue were the neon billboards that had kanji in wild fonts that made him dizzy to look at. So he was in Japan, or a dense Japanese population (but he was pretty sure it was the former).

Ok. This was becoming a problem for tomorrow.

Despite being asleep? Dead? For only Clockwork knows how long, he was starting to get tired. Danny had a long day. There was too much to process, and even more to not think about. He needed to find shelter and sleep.

★

After a while, Danny was able to find an abandoned warehouse. No matter the country, trust a big city to have a few “forgotten” areas. Not forgotten to all though, a few clusters of people were scattered about. Some were close enough to signal different groups, while others were too far apart from anyone to announce partnership.

He wouldn’t take up space from them.

He floated above them to a rundown loft above the rafters. Due to the rotten ladder, no one was able to claim it, so Danny didn’t feel too guilty using it for the night.

The loft was more rundown than the rest of the warehouse, a decent sized hole welcomed in rain, and it had rotted and softened the floorboards. It was a wonder it was still together at all. As long as the beams stayed intact, Danny could make it work.

There was an old tarp outside, muddy and knotted together. Danny took it back to his soon to be nest and laid it best he could over the mostly intact floor beams. It formed a sorta hammock for him to sleep in. With more glow than he would’ve liked, Danny coated the tarp in frost to make it more durable for his soon to be restless sleep. Danny wasn’t worried about the support beams, despite the damage, he could tell they had a lot more life in them to last well over the night. Or morning now. He could see the wisps of dawn sneaking through the nature-made skylight. Not wanting future sun to be in his eyes, he shot a chuck of ice at it and covered that in ectoplasm for extra sun blocking abilities.

With his newly formed nest, Danny could now think about sleep…

Except he couldn’t. In the stillness of the morning, through the gentle snores of those below, Danny realized he couldn’t hear his own breathing.

This shouldn’t be surprising as he was still in his ghost form after all, but it was his ease at being in his ghost form that rattled him.

Was he really dead now? Fully this time?

After the accident, when he was in his ghost form for too long, he could feel his human half fidget. He felt comfortable in both forms yes, but his human half felt like Pjs while his ghost side felt like pants.

This felt too comfortable. Too natural.

He couldn’t feel his human half anymore.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp #dp cross #dp crossover #dp x bnha #dp x mha #ghost king danny #dp fic #dp cross fic

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ladylynse · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11 [FF | AO3] of Revision: Maddie can’t deny it any longer. If ectoplasm can become blood, there’s more to this story than she ever realized.

Beginning | Previous

-|-

Jazz made her own breakfast and ate it without bothering to sit down at the table. Vlad never left her sight—or, more to the point, she never left his. With his powers, the reverse wasn’t necessarily true. If they’d still been at FentonWorks, she could have had some peace of mind on that front, but even if he had ectoplasmic detectors in his own house, he would’ve ensured they ignored his own ecto-signature.

Vlad had finally quit it with the thinly veiled threats, at least, so Jazz had turned off the Fenton Phone’s transmitter for now. She knew Danny and his friends usually left it on all the time, but she didn’t want to chance this being the time the technology started to fail and having the transmitter on was the reason she wasn’t getting a message from the Ghost Zone. Cross dimensional communication was tricky at the best of times.

Besides, she was pretty sure the only reason that Vlad hadn’t sabotaged it—because he had to know what the invention did—was that he wanted to know when she found something out.

He wanted to know when she heard from Danny. (Hopefully he didn’t realize she already had.)

He wanted to know when Sam and Tucker found Jack. (Hopefully they would soon.)

He wanted to know when he had to act to take her out so he could move on to whatever the next phase of his plan was without the risk of compromising it if he acted too early.

She didn’t intend to let him find out more of their plans or news than he already had, but good intentions weren’t going to trump ghost powers unless she had an unusual amount of luck on her side.

“Any luck, Tuck?”

Jazz took another slow sip of coffee to hide her expression as best she could as Sam struck up a conversation in her ear. Watching Vlad from over the brim of her mug wasn’t very exciting, but it was the best she could do right now.

“Nada. You’ve covered everything from Dora’s and the Carnivorous Canyon over towards Skulker’s island, right?”

“Yeah.” A pause on Sam’s end. “You checked the River of Revulsion?”

“And Pariah’s Keep. I can double back and look out beyond the Far Frozen if you think he’d have gotten that far, but….”

But that wasn’t somewhere they knew well. Unless there was an update to their map of the Ghost Zone that Jazz hadn’t seen (very possible), there might not be anything consistent enough for them to use as a landmark to put down on a map in the first place. If Jack had gotten lost (been lured) into the vast expanse of green and was left to drift aimlessly with the smaller rocks that passed through—

That was assuming he had made it that far, though.

Jazz still wasn’t convinced that was likely, even though Sam and Tucker had already recruited more ghosts to the search than she’d met.

However many they knew, Vlad must know more.

And, assuming he’d gotten his portal working ages before her parents had (though she admittedly wasn’t sure about that point), he’d know the Ghost Zone itself better than Sam or Tucker, too. The ghosts would know it best, of course, but the ones who knew Vlad well enough to know where he’d try to hide Jack weren’t on their side.

“Maybe we should….” Jazz had never heard Sam sound so uncertain. “Should we go over where we’ve already been? In case we missed him? Even if it’s….”

“Even if it’s just a piece of the Spectre Speeder.” Tuck’s voice was quieter than Sam’s now, more breath than words. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, we’ll do that.” Sam was starting to rally, but she still sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than she was them. “Jazz, I’m assuming you’re hearing this, so answer when you can. Just— See if you can get anything out of Vlad. We could really use a lead here.”

“Should I make another pot?” Vlad asked, nodding towards the coffee maker.

She wanted to snap at him. She wanted to demand he explain what he’d done. She wanted him to admit to everything he was trying to pull and give it up. She wanted to shake him until he told her what he’d done to her father.

Danny was good at getting his opponents to talk in a fight by antagonizing them, poking at their insecurities or making a comment they felt the need to correct.

She’d tried to get the fact that none of this would work through Vlad’s thick skull, but he still had the luxury of ignoring her because—as far as he was concerned—it was working.

He might not have gotten to Danny, he might not have found Danielle, but Maddie was wavering more than she stood against him, and Jack was missing. It was enough of a win that Vlad felt confident pretending now, even with her, and she didn’t know how to get something concrete out of him that Sam and Tucker could use.

Wasn’t trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result the definition of insanity?

Jazz sighed and put her mug down on the counter. “Look. Mom’s not here. You don’t need to play up the caring Uncle Vlad schtick. I just…. They were your best friends back in college, weren’t they? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Vlad raised his eyebrows at her and rose from the table. “More coffee it is, then.”

“I’m serious. It was an accident, right, what happened to you? It was horrible, it was preventable, but it wasn’t malicious. You don’t need to k—” Her voice cracked. She knew it was a possibility, but it wasn’t one she wanted to think about. “You don’t need to get rid of my dad because of that.” He had more reasons to want Jack out of the picture than that, but she knew he blamed Jack for the accident, and if she could just get him to—

“It was a horrible, preventable accident,” Vlad agreed as he started to make a fresh pot of coffee.

He didn’t continue speaking.

Jazz had to consciously unclench her jaw before she started grinding her teeth. “An accident isn’t justification for what you’re trying to do.”

“Back to making accusations?” he asked lightly, instead of taking the bait like she’d hoped. If only he’d skipped straight to insisting what he was doing wasn’t revenge for anything or that a past accident wasn’t colouring his actions, then maybe she could’ve caught him out.

It was going to be harder than that, it seemed.

However much sleep he’d gotten, it had apparently been enough for this.

“You just—” Exploding at him would only make it easier for him to get her in trouble. “You know where I’m coming from, don’t you? Or do you really not understand what I’m feeling right now?”

Vlad glanced back at her. “Anxious, angry, worried, scared, bitter, sarcastic— Though I suppose that’s more of a family trait than a feeling. Tell me, do you know what I’m feeling right now?”

Jazz flinched. “Attacked?” That had to be the answer he wanted.

He sighed and turned away from the coffee pot as it started to percolate. “I’m feeling the same way you are. Anxious and worried about this whole situation when there’s so little I can do to impact it, scared about how things might turn out because I don’t know the answers and I can’t control the outcomes, angry that you keep making accusations and refusing to listen to me, bitter that you are still holding the past against me—”

“The past? Even ignoring your involvement in this mess, you’ve been arming a teenager to fuel her vendetta against my brother and tried to beat him into submission yourself earlier this week. Or did you conveniently forget that?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There are some things you don’t understand.”

“Yeah? Well, I think it’s pretty clear. I know what you’re really like. You can’t just pull the wool over my eyes like you can with Mom. You know more about Danielle than you’ll admit, and if Danny didn’t even tell Sam and Tucker the truth, I know it’s bad. And whatever you did to Dad—” Her voice betrayed her again, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Unsuccessfully, of course. “We’re going to find him.”

Vlad had the nerve to fix her with a disappointed look. “I didn’t kill your father, Jasmine.”

It didn’t sound like a lie.

“So he’s alive, then?” She tried to keep her voice light, like his words didn’t matter to her as much as they did. She failed miserably, missing nonchalance completely and falling straight into a hope so desperate it hurt.

Alive was something.

Alive was enough.

Alive meant they would find him, eventually.

“I would presume so. You don’t have evidence otherwise, do you? I was under the impression that, though you have people searching for him, it is possible to miss him if he’s still moving—which he would be if he’s looking for Daniel.”

“No, but everyone—” Jazz broke off.

Vlad had just done to her what she’d been trying to do to him—except she’d wound up with nothing from her little fishing expedition except a statement that may or may not be a lie because she hadn’t managed to catch him off his guard.

Crud.

-|-

Danny had said he’d needed time before walking out of the kitchen.

As Maddie eased the second batch of cookies off the tray and onto the cooling rack, she wondered how far he’d gone if the smell of freshly baked treats hadn’t coaxed him back.

“What did I say?” she murmured to Alicia. “I’m only trying to get this straight, and I don’t blame him for being angry and frustrated, but….”

“But as much as you say you want to listen, you’re not. Not from his perspective, I’d wager.”

Maddie frowned. “Come again?”

“Danny is telling you his side of the story, and most of what I’ve seen you do is take that, compare it to Vlad’s, and ask Danny if he’s sure about what he thinks. You think he’s not going to hear you do that and think you’re only listening to what you want to hear?”

The words stung.

She hadn’t been doing that intentionally.

Making assumptions had gotten her into this mess; how come trying to be objective and make sure she had all the facts had only dug her in deeper?

“I imagine,” Alicia continued as she walked over to snag a hot cookie from the baking rack, “he figures you trust Vlad more than you trust him. When it comes to whatever is going on between them, at least.”

“That’s why I’d like to talk to the two of them together—”

“Something you haven’t brought up to him, by the way.”

“But—”

“But even if they both agree to that, it still begs the question of who you do trust more.” Alicia’s voice was pointed enough that Maddie winced. “Your son or your old friend?”

“That’s not fair.” The words were a whisper, a familiar complaint from their childhood whenever Alicia had found a flaw in Maddie’s careful plans.

“Never said it was. Life isn’t a debate. Not like you of all people don’t know that or you’d be spending more of it convincing the rest of the world of the legitimacy of what you study. Point is, you don’t always get to hear arguments and rebuttals from both sides before you get to make your decision. And, sure, maybe you make the wrong choice, and you’ll learn more later so that you can recognize that wrong choice, at which point you need to do what you can to correct it. If you’re lucky, it’s not too late.”

“But—”

“But when it comes down to it, sometimes you just need to trust your gut. Your head says Vlad or you wouldn’t keep questioning every word out of Danny’s mouth, and I hope for the sake of your family that your heart wants to go with Danny. So, what does your gut say?”

Maddie sighed. “I do trust Danny.”

“See, you say that, and then you act like you trust Vlad more. Do you?”

“I am not—”

“Did you question everything Vlad said like you are Danny? Because right now, to me, it sounds like you’re putting more stock in his words, which means you trust his word over Danny’s.” Alicia’s tone softened as she added, “I’m not saying it’s something you’re doing consciously, but I still think you’re doing it. You want to see Danny as your little boy who needs your protection, your guidance, and he’s not. You want to see Vlad as your old friend from college who decided to rekindle old friendships after realizing how much he’d missed at that reunion of yours, and he might not be that person, either. Take some more time to think this over while you have it, all right?”

Maddie wasn’t sure time was going to help her.

What would help her would be having Danny and Vlad in the same room, answering her questions honestly, but Alicia was right: even if they both agreed to that, it might not help as much as she imagined. It would be entirely too easy for the contradicting claims to devolve into an argument, and she wouldn’t be any further ahead. Jazz was hardly a reliable source on the subject, and Sam and Tucker wouldn’t be, either. With Jack as in the dark as she had been, there wasn’t anyone to ask who didn’t have a stake in the situation.

Unless she asked a ghost.

Would one talk to her if she asked? Would it—would they—tell her the truth?

If Vlad had merely been acting this whole time, how could she ever convince Danny and Jazz of that? They’d want to use every excuse under the sun to dismiss any evidence she could provide. They might even claim that Vlad had paid off ghosts to repeat his story for him.

Yet if Vlad hadn’t been acting—

What could she do then? What measures could she take to safeguard against Vlad’s actions that wouldn’t risk Danny? How should she break the news to Jack when he’d find the idea as horrifying as she had?

It was a bridge she would cross if she came to it.

Until that happened, she couldn’t afford to worry about it.

There was too much else to do right now.

“I want to trust Danny,” she admitted. “I just need to make sure Vlad isn’t telling the truth about tricking him. Vlad is…. He’s always been good at doing that sort of thing. I’m not sure Danny or Jazz would have realized the truth if this is all a misguided attempt of his to help. How we handle this if Danny’s right about everything is very different than if Vlad is being truthful, and I…. I can’t afford to get it wrong. I don’t want to lose my children because of this.”

“But you still can’t trust that I know what I’m talking about.” Danny’s flat voice, entirely unexpected, came from one of the empty chairs at the kitchen table. As she watched, he flicked into visibility between one blink and the next.

She wanted to ask how long he’d been there. Listening.

She didn’t.

“Look. I’m trying, too, okay? I’m trying because I’m not sure I want this to be the end. But you’re not making it easy, and— And I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart—”

“You have good intentions. I get that. But Aunt Alicia’s right. You’re letting whatever Vlad told you be more important than whatever I’m telling you. You think my judgement is compromised. I know me telling you it’s not isn’t going to help anything, but Dani— It shouldn’t be up to her to tell you her story just so you believe me.”

It was the truth, and it hurt.

It hurt even more because it felt like her relationship with her son—already distant, filled with secrets, and strained by everything that had happened in the last few days especially—was slipping away from her entirely.

She didn’t want to let go.

She didn’t want to lose him.

She was, however, unfortunately aware of the fact that he might not stay unless she gave up on Vlad entirely.

Vlad’s friendship wasn’t more important to her than her relationship with Danny—especially not if anything Danny and Jazz had told her turned out to be true—but she didn’t know if she could throw it away knowing that Danny might be wrong despite his conviction that he knew the truth.

If Vlad had been putting up a front to turn her children against him, for one misguided reason or another, she could hardly be surprised that it had worked.

And Danny’s reaction, convinced of the truth as he knew it, would be the same whether or not Vlad had meant well or really was plotting against their family.

She desperately wanted Jack’s opinion on all of this, but she couldn’t reach him while he was still in the Ghost Zone.

“I know, honey. I know this is hard for you, harder than I can imagine, and I really appreciate you trying—”

“But you won’t cut Vlad off on my word alone. Because I’m a kid, because he was never like this back in college and you can’t imagine him doing this now, and because he’s convinced you that I’m wrong about him. Sound about right?” Danny’s voice was tight.

“I won’t trust him with anything important. I said I wouldn’t. But—” But she couldn’t cut him out of their lives before she knew the truth. How could she say that, though? Danny would insist he’d already told her the truth and that she’d refused to listen. “Given recent events, I’m more aware of inherent bias than I was.”

She’d kept her tone carefully neutral, but Danny snorted. “You think I’m biased. Of course you think I’m biased. Vlad rigs the mayoral election so he wins, but I’m the biased one.”

It seemed like every one of Danny’s offhanded statements were concerning now, but this couldn’t be the time to ask. Election fraud was hardly an insignificant claim and she doubted Danny would make it lightly even with his feelings on Vlad, which only made it more likely that it was true.

It made it more likely that all of this was true.

If Vlad saw no harm in interfering the election process to get the position he wanted, what other lines might he be content to cross?

Even if Danny were mistaken, even if Vlad hadn’t lied to her about any of this, why would Vlad even want to give the appearance of rigging an election? There had to be other ways to teach Danny whatever lessons Vlad wanted him to learn, and if Danny had reported him…. It wouldn’t be worth the fallout, would it? Even when disproven, the damage would be done. The memory of the accusation wouldn’t have faded. Making Danny think he’d rigged an election, even one as small as their municipal one, wouldn’t have been Vlad’s best move. It couldn’t have been.

So what did it mean that the claim—the complaint—rolled off Danny’s tongue so easily?

“I’ll tell you what,” continued Danny, oblivious to her churning thoughts. “I’ll ask Dani if she’ll reconsider talking to you, but if she says no? I’m not asking again. If she changes her mind, she’ll tell me.”

“Are you sure you want to push her?” Alicia asked quietly, and Danny looked over at her.

“Vlad’s up to something, and he’ll track us down sooner rather than later. This’ll be the only chance she has to talk things over quietly before something explodes in our faces.” He blew out a breath and glanced back at Maddie. “I’m not making any promises, though. I don’t think I’d want to talk to you if I were in her position.”

If he’d been in her position.

They’d been trying to get him in her position, strapped to their table so they could take him apart molecule by molecule—

Maddie swallowed. “I understand. Thank you.”

Danny’s face twisted into a sour expression. “Don’t thank me. I’m doing it for me, too, and Dani’s going to know that. She left the person she’d once thought of as family and there is no way she’s ever going back, but I haven’t. Yet.”

But he still might.

Because of what Maddie had done and because of who Danielle was to him.

Maddie recalled Jazz’s various theories about Danielle, about how Jazz was convinced Vlad knew more than he’d admit, and how Vlad had said that the ghost girl had come to him for help he hadn’t been able to provide.

That did hint at a past between them.

More of one than he’d told her about, anyway.

Otherwise, how would Danielle have known to come to him? He kept his passion for inventing tools designed to study, contain, and eliminate ghosts secret from the public, kept his lab hidden even within his own household, hadn’t mentioned a word to his friends who were very much in the public eye when it came to ghost hunting— She couldn’t imagine that Danielle had come across him by pure happenstance.

Maybe she and Jack would need to ask the ghosts to find out the truth about that, too.

They might be the only ones who knew it in its entirety—or, at least, knew an untainted view of events.

Danny jumped up from his seat at the table and walked over towards her. For a moment, she thought he might be coming to hug her, and tears filled her eyes in anticipation, but instead, he grabbed a cookie and shoved the entire thing into his mouth before picking up half a dozen more and vanishing.

Maddie was left staring at the spot her son had been, at the missing cookies that felt like the only evidence of his presence, and tried unsuccessfully to blink away her tears.

“Do you want me to stay or leave for a spell?” came Alicia’s quiet voice, and Maddie wiped at her eyes before looking over at her sister.

“Stay, please. I…I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You want to keep talking about it, me to talk, or silence for now?”

Maddie smiled. Alicia had always been good at hiding her emotions compared to Maddie herself, but she hadn’t been this careful about dealing with everything when they were kids. It was something she’d learned since the divorce, once she’d begun taking a more active role in the community after being free of the man who had never been good enough to be her husband. (In Maddie’s humble opinion, anyway; the man had nothing on Jack.) They’d always had heart-to-hearts on previous visits, but Maddie hadn’t realized how much Alicia’s skill had grown until she’d seen it on full display with this visit.

It made her think she should talk to her sister more often.

Maybe Maddie could build her a cellphone that would work despite Spittoon being a notorious dead spot.

If they modified the Fenton Phones—

Later.

She could experiment later.

“You can talk,” Maddie said quietly. “I’ve learned a lot, but otherwise, nothing’s changed. At the risk of admitting that you might be right about a few things, the truth is, I’d rather hear your opinions and advice than my own thoughts right now.”

“Well, one other thing that certainly hasn’t changed is my opinion about Vlad, but I reckon you could guess that.” Alicia snagged another cookie for herself before adding, “I think it would be worth your while to let Danny talk and say whatever he wants to say before you ask questions or point out what else you’ve heard. I don’t imagine this particular scenario is one he’d have rehearsed when he was trying to figure out how to tell you two about all of this.”

“You— You think he would have? Told us? If this hadn’t happened?”

Alicia shrugged. “Might’ve. Might not’ve. Either way, I don’t see how it wouldn’t’ve kept him up at night. It wouldn’t exactly be an easy thing to tell someone like me, let alone someone like you with your profession being what it is.”

Maddie remembered all the reports of Phantom out fighting ghosts at night and how often she’d seen him in the middle of the day.

She remembered all the phone calls they’d gotten from disappointed teachers—about Danny falling asleep in class or cutting it altogether, with or without a semi-feasible excuse; about his failing a test, be it of the pop quiz variety or one the class had known about for weeks; about his not handing in or not finishing a homework assignment….

Plasmius wasn’t out half as often. Even if his rivalry with Phantom were entirely contrived, Danny was facing threats on multiple fronts.

From both ghosts and ghost hunters.

Maddie couldn’t undo the past.

She could only do better in the future.

She started to nod, mouth moving to form words of agreement, when a flash of light caught her eye. Years of training had her turning her head to get a proper look, which is why she was staring at the green speck in the middle of Alicia’s kitchen floor when it got bigger.

It grew from the size of penny to that of a gopher hole, and then it was the size of a badger hole and a dog was coming through, barking.

Maddie stared.

She recognized that dog, though she was more acquainted with its monstrous form.

“Danny?” Alicia called, her voice pitched to carry but kept short from coming out like a panicked yell. “I think your dog’s here for you.”

Danny did not reappear.

The dog noticed Maddie, though.

Apparently, it remembered her as well as she remembered it, and its memories were not fond ones.

Its growls deepened as it swelled in size, toppling chairs and pushing the table against the wall. With one hand, Maddie motioned for Alicia to go, get away, just don’t run so it doesn’t chase you, while the other groped for weapons she didn’t have.

Alicia, stubborn sister that she was, moved closer to Maddie and stood by her side.

There was only one thing Maddie could think to do.

It was reckless, it was desperate, and it might very well result in the loss of her hand because the ghost was tangible and its teeth were sharp, but changing her ways had to start somewhere.

Besides, even if there were somewhere she could run, Maddie didn’t make a habit of turning her back on a ghost.

Instead, she forced a smile on her face, grabbed a cookie, held it out before her, and asked brightly in the tone of voice usually reserved for babies and (living) pets, “Treat?”

-|-

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#danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #vlad masters #dp #dp alicia #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #phanfic #fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #dp snippet

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whereonceiwasfire · 2 years

Note

Hello! If you still need drabbles to tinker with, may I leave a suggestion?

I don't know why but recently I've been really into horror and creepy stuff, so I was wondering if you'd like to do something like that? I actually find a good horror fic really purging for some reason, it's like I have all my anxiety for the next month twisted out of me like a sponge

Maybe it'll help you too!

Here are some ideas if you need them but you can do anything really, it's your drabble

Maybe the concept of facelessness? Things without faces are creepy

You can maybe just do a classic ' nobody is sure what the heck ghosts are but they're very inhuman and creepy, and Danny very much fits in that category '

If you want to vent out how much having a cold sucks again you can probably do something with either overstimulation or numbness in general, like maybe being a ghost is different than being human because you feel nothing physical but you have emotions? So it's like - Danny can't smell or taste anything in ghost form? Maybe he can't feel temperatures of things?

If you're not in a horror mood maybe you can do something with the feeling of being alone while it's all rainy or snowy outside. It's a very special feeling, and it's pretty peaceful, so it would probably be comforting to write •^•

I apologize in advance; I heard "horror" and my brain went brrrrr so this really got away from me haha. Thanks so much for the request, I had a blast writing this horror-ey little oneshot (cause I don't think you can call this a drabble anymore lol)!

Scott gets suggestions, all the time, for your standard fare—Salem, New Orleans, Pine Barrens, Mansfield. He’s been to some of them, is still planning to make it to the other ‘most haunted places in America,’ eventually, so leaves little“soon” or “keep haunting” or “check out my vid on Salem here,” in response to the comments.

But he’s only ever gotten a request to visit a small town he’s never heard of before once—Amity Park. It didn’t come as a comment left on his videos, it wasn’t sent in an email to his account or a DM, it wasn’t even a passing conversation with a barista or a gas station attendant. It was a text to his phone, from an unknown number—the town name, and nothing else. When he tried to answer back, he’d gotten a “message not delivered” notification.

He has to admit, he appreciates the theatrics of it, being something of a thespian himself.

It’s not that he doesn’t believe in what he does, he’s just pragmatic enough to realize that sometimes the paranormal needs a little help. People don’t subscribe to his channel because they want to watch him give a little shiver in his fleece-lined, denim jacket once in a while. No, they watch his channel because they want to see him with wide, reflective eyes glinting like a cat’s in the night vision filter, gasping, and whispering, and going off about the dark presence he feels.

His hopes aren’t high that he’ll get any new content—that there’s anything spookier about the town than its try-hard name. Scott’s not even entirely sure that people will be all that interested in watching a video on the place.

But curiosity gets the better of him, and that’s how he finds himself, van stuffed full, on hour ten of his drive to Amity Park.

It’s dark, his headlights slashing across the highway, illuminating a whole lot of shadowed nothing before him. He squints out the windshield as he lifts the lukewarm dregs of his gas-station coffee to his lips, chugs it back with a grimace, and settles it back into the cupholder.

He knows he’s got to be getting close by now, but none of this is even remotely familiar, and in terms of landmarks, there’s zilch. Just a thick wall of trees on either side of the road, shadows painted upon shadows. Once in a while, he passes a crooked branch, or a roughly hewn rock that’s semi-distinctive, but even those all look the same. It’s almost as though it’s a background on repeat—almost like he’s driving in circles.

Not to mention his crappy old Econoline is the only vehicle on the road. It’s as if he’s driven right off the map.

Where the hell is this town?

“Get it together, Scott,” he says, scrubbing a palm down his face, and cranking The Cure to keep himself awake. “Nobody’s watching, you don’t have to turn on the charm yet.”

He flickers his attention back to the cupholder, instinctively reaching for his coffee again. Pulls his gaze back up before his fingers have curled around the top of the cup.

“Shit! Fuck!” he shouts, immediatly slamming on the brakes, jerking the steering wheel, and fishtailing across the highway as he registers the shadowed figure in the middle of the road.

He’s panting, breathless, when the van screeches to a sideways halt, his fingers gripped so tight around the wheel that his knuckles poke white against the flesh. His head snaps ups, gaze flickering out past the windshield for whatever he thought he saw.

Nothing. The road before him is completely empty.

Scott tries to jerk around, twist a look behind him, but the seatbelt has locked around his torso, click click clicks as he strains against it. Eventually, it releases, and he unclips himself, throws open his door, engine still idling, and clambers out onto the asphalt.

“H-hello?” he calls, Vans scuffing the concrete as he peers into the darkness.

Slowly, he starts to circle around the chunky backside of his overstuffed Econoline, heart pitter-pattering against the walls of his chest as he studies the pavement—dark skid marks drawn like a sketch along his screeching trajectory. His palm rests against the cool aluminum side of the van, and he swallows hard as he stoops to check the undercarriage.

He can’t make out much in the shadows, pulls his phone from his back pocket and turns on the flashlight to sweep back and forth beneath the vehicle.

Nothing.

“What’re you doing?”

Scott gives a strangled cry as he jerks upright, dropping his phone against the pavement with a clatter as his hands lift in an instinctive defense.

But it’s a kid that stands across from Scott. He can’t be much older than fourteen or fifteen—wears grass-stained jeans, a t-shirt, and chucks, his dark, mussed hair blending with the shadows behind him.

Scott has the fleeting consideration that this kid is not what he saw in the road. It was only a second, only a glimpse, but whatever it had been was far larger, steeped in shadow, headlights glinting off little reflective pockets.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott snaps, shaking himself as he stoops for his phone. It lays on the asphalt between them, flashlight illuminating the boy from below, lending an eerie quality to the already bewildering interaction. “Isn’t it, like, past your bedtime?”

The kid doesn’t answer, just turns the slightest smile, and asks, “You lost?”

There’s something so immediately unsettling about it. About him. Something about the kid’s voiee, the way it almost mirrors the soft susurration of the leaves rustling around them; something about the way the light reflects off his eyes, only the thinnest ring of blue around blown pupils; something about the creeping, prickling sensation across Scott’s skin when the boy steps a little bit closer.

“I’m…looking for a place called Amity Park,” Scott blurts, almost as a way to keep the boy from getting any closer.

The kid does stop, tilting his head, a bit too far to be inquisitive, a bit too far to seem natural.

“For what?” he asks.

“I heard it’s haunted,” Scott said, trying to shake off the weird apprehension he feels.

“It is,” the boy says with such certainty it sends a chill crawling up Scott’s spine.

What the hell is wrong with him? He’s been to graveyards, and generations old houses that look like the set of a horror movie. He’s been to hotels where celebrities OD-ed, and businesses where people were allegedly murdered, and abandoned warehouses, and destitute institutions. He’s spent nights in places most people won’t visit in full daylight with nothing but his phone and a tripod.

So why is he so jumpy all of a sudden—so put off by one little kid? Albeit, a spooky little shit who, for some reason, is on the side of the highway at 1:00am. But still.

“I can show you how to get there,” the kid says, lifting on his toes and cupping his hands around his face as he presses his nose to the back window of Scott’s van. “If you give me a ride home.”

“You kidding? I’m a stranger. That’s not safe. Haven’t your parents taught you anything? I could be a serial killer.” On the other hand, should Scott be leaving a scrappy little tweenager on the side of the road?

The kid just slowly turns his head toward Scott, a too-wide smile stretching across his face, teeth glinting a little too sharp in the wan moonlight.

“I’m not worried,” he says. Then, giving a dismissive wave, features smoothing out so fast Scott wonders that he ever saw anything unusual at all, the kid continues. “Besides. You can’t get to Amity without a guide.”

“What?”

But the kid is already circling around to the passenger side door, hauling it open, and slipping into Scott’s van—either not hearing or just not bothering to answer the question.

Scott just gives his head a shake, and clambers back into the vehicle, pulling the door shut with a loud thud as he settles into the driver’s seat. Even though the engine is still running, the heater blasting, there's a chill in the cab, and Scott gives a little shiver.

The kid is folded up in the passenger seat, has his knees to his chest, his chucks propped up on Scott’s dashboard—is turning an EMP reader over in his hands with his eyebrows lifted.

“Can you not?” Scott asks, snatching the device from the kid’s hand and tossing it into the back. “And for fuck’s sake, put on a seatbelt. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting splattered across the highway.”

“Why do you care? I thought you were a serial killer?” the kid asks with a sarcastic turn to the words, but he obliges, strapping himself in with a click.

“Ha. Ha. Look, kid—” but Scott doesn’t get any further than that, a disquiet gripping in his chest the second he turns a glance over at the boy.

“Danny,” he supplies, snapping Scott out of it.

He shakes himself as he turns his attention out the windshield as he eases the van back into the proper lane of the empty highway.

“Look, Danny,” he manages with a hard swallow. “I don’t know what you were doing out here in the middle of the night. Quite frankly, I don’t want to know. But you can’t be pulling shit like that. It’s dangerous.”

“You swear a lot, you know?” Danny says, popping open Scott’s glove compartment and rifling through the CD cases there.

Right. Kid.

“You can’t be pulling crap like that,” Scott amends.

Danny ignores him completely, lifting an absent glance out the windshield and pointing, “You see that rock up there?”

Scott’s brow furrows. Okay, he’s sure he’s passed that rock already. But that’s impossible. He hasn’t turned off this straight stretch of highway in almost an hour.

“You’re going to want to make a left up there,” Danny says.

“There’s isn’t a left up—” but Scott cuts off as they draw near, because there is. A left-hand turn onto a paved road that he could've sworn wasn't there a second ago There are no signs, nothing to indicate what road they’re turning onto, but it’s undeniably a road.

Scott turns a wary glance over at the kid, back out the windshield, slowing as he clicks on his turn signal.

“What did you mean when you said you can’t get to Amity Park without a…guide?” Scott asks, wringing his grip around the steering wheel.

Danny opens up one of Scott’s CD cases, pops out the disc, and starts spinning it around his index finger.

“I mean. Just that? The town doesn’t just, like, show itself to people. But you can’t just come and go either, so getting a guide is hard. Guess you could say you were lucky. If Boxy hadn’t been messing around today, I might not have been out far enough to find you. Don’t think I caught your name, by the way? It it something cool like Riker, or Arrow, or something? You look like you could have a cool name.”

“Uh. Scott,” he answers, brow twisting even further.

“Lame.”

“You got quite the imagination on you, hey kid?” Scott asks, gaze out the windshield, turning over the boy's strange story in his head.

“I guess,” Danny says with a shrug before popping the CD back into the case and pulling out the cover booklet instead, flipping absently through the lyric pages.

They fall silent, and Scott tries to ignore the strange, increasing sense of wrongness that pervades the cab of his Econoline—the prickle up the back of his neck; the feeling of a hundred eyes on him; the heavy, oppressive sense there’s more than just him and the kid in his car.

Scott lets out a quiet scoff as he grabs for his coffee again and tips back the empty paper cup, getting nothing but a couple cold drips for his effort.

He's gonna need to crash for a solid day when he finally makes it to this stupid town. His exhausted mind is obviously playing games with him.

After a couple minutes, the trees thin out on either side of the road, streetlights and powerlines cropping up as though out of nowhere, following their progress toward the faint glow of civilization in the distance. Scott releases a tight sigh when he sees it, the promise of other people setting his jangled nerves at ease.

They’re just passing a large sign emblazoned with Amity Park, A Nice Place to Live, when something swoops out of the sky at them with a deafening shriek.

Scott swears, slams on his brakes for the second time that night, throwing an instinctive arm out to catch the kid from being thrown forward into the dash.

“What the fuck?” Scott shouts when they’ve ground to a halt, twisting a bewildered glance over his shoulder where he can see the creature doubling back through the dark sky above.

It’s ephemeral and insubstantial—beats glowing wings around a shifting, changing form that takes on the likeness of a massive vulture. Its body stretches further across than the Econoline, and it opens a beak of shadow to let out another piercing cry. Scott throws his hands over his ears, winces as spiderweb cracks run through his windshield.

Two pairs of blood-red eyes peer out from the sleek shape of the beast's head, and they blink sideways at him just before the creature rears, readying to dive again.

“Okay, this is getting annoying now,” Danny says with a put-upon sigh, like this is nothing more inconvenient than misplacing his keys. “Give me a sec.”

If Scott hadn’t watched it happen—scrabbling back in his seat with a shriek, trying to get as far away as possible—he wouldn’t believe it was real.

The kid’s slightly disproportionate form stretches out with a shiver of glowing light, elbows, knees, popping out of joint, bending backward as he elongates into something inhuman. His skin melts into shadow, fingers tapering into glimmering bone claws, features swallowed up with blackness, nothing but a yawning, glowing mouth taking up the space where the rest of his features should be. It opens wide—rows of teeth, a long, forked tongue—screaming back at the bird as the kid's monstrous form melts through the vehicle like he’s passing through water. Reflective green eyes blink open all over the shadowy, humanoid shape, slitted pupils all snapping over to the wheeling vulture in unison.

The kid, the…monster…effortlessly catches the bird out of the air before it can set upon the van, his fingers bleeding like tendrils of ink as they stretch to encompass the writhing, flapping, screeching vulture. Whatever the phantom says to it sounds more like static than words—an indistinguishable hiss. The bird just lets out another shriek that rumbles the road beneath Scott’s car.

The shadowy creature the kid’s turned into just shakes its faceless head—unhinges his jaw, that horrible mouth stretching larger than should be possible—before he stuffs the bird in whole.

“Fuck no,” Scott breathes as he slams the van into reverse, twists his head over his shoulder and he stomps on the gas.

He doesn’t even have time to whip into a violent, dangeroud U-turn—only gets to the town line, the very edge of the Amity Park sign, before the car shudders to a stop, the crumple of aluminum like he’s come up against a wall. He’s thrown forward against the seatbelt, gives a grunt, blinks bewilderedly behind him.

What the…?

There’s nothing in his way, no reason he should have stopped.

“Don’t worry.”

The voice is entirely inhuman—Danny’s kiddish lilt overlaid with something echoing and eternal—and when Scott turns forward, that creature is lumbering toward the van on its almost canine, bipedal feet.

“No, no, no.” Scott scrambles to free himself from the seatbelt, spills out of the van, and immediately skirts a few steps backward, glancing up at the creature blinking a dozen glowing eyes at him.

He bumps up against nothing, can’t move any further than the invisible line drawn in the sand between this damned little town and the world beyond.

“Don’t worry,” the creature repeats again as it clambers over the van like it’s skirting a decorative rock in somebody’s garden. “I protect this town.”

It looms over Scott at seven—eight feet tall? Reaches an arm toward him, stretching long, impossible fingers toward him.

Scott tries to run the only direction he can—parallel to the town line—his Vans crunching against gravel before tendrils snap around his ankle, blood rushing to his head as he’s lifted upside down, suspended in front of the creature. Those dozen eyes stare at him.

“Holy shit, man. Look, I’m sorry. Please don’t fucking eat me,” Scott panics and writhes, tries to twist out of the grasp, to no avail.

The phantom creature just cocks its head, a facsimile of the boy’s inquisitive tilt from earlier.

What, the, fuck?

“I’m not going to eat you.” It gives a childish laugh, haunting in its sharp, piercing clarity where it comes from that horrific, monstrous mouth. “Weren’t you listening? I protect this town. And you’re part of this town now.”

“No, man, I just want to go home. This is too much.” Scott sways listlessly back and forth as he gives up trying to free himself.

“...you…can’t? I thought I told you. Humans can’t just come and go.”

“What?” Scott asks, breathless.

The creature gently rights him—lowers him to the ground beside his van. He has to steady himself on the hood to keep his knees from buckling, blinks sightlessly up at the phantom creature.

There’s another, unnatural shiver through the air, a ripple of glowing light over the creature’s body, and then, that little kid is standing in front of Scott again, scrubbing a hand up his arm.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Danny says, features twisting up into a frown. “I thought you—I mean. People don’t usually come here from, like, other places. When they do, it’s because they have nowhere else to go. I thought. I just figured…”

Scott doesn’t know exactly what the boy is, if the kiddish face he wears is some kind of ruse, but Scott’s sure prefers him this way. Even though, now that he knows what it is, there’s still something so distinctly inhuman about him. The way his features don’t look molded quite right, pulled just slightly beyond the realm of natural; the way his eyes seem lit from something within, carrying a faint, residual glow like the dozens of eyes he wore when he became that…phantom; the way his arms, his fingers, seem just a little bit too long, his teeth just a little bit too sharp, his joints extending just a little bit further than they should be able to.

“How is this even real?” Scott chokes out with a manic little laugh.

“Strictly speaking, it’s, uh, not,” Danny says. When Scott just turns a helpless, defeated look over at him, he shrugs, averts his gaze. “Amity Park, uh, doesn’t exist. Not. Not in the human realm, anyway. I—it’s hard to explain. My parents can do a better job.”

“Parents,” Scotts breathes, disbelieving.

“Yeah. C’mon. I’ll introduce you. You’ve got a lot to learn,” Danny says, shrugging off this life-ruining news with unsettling ease—an inhuman lack of concern—as he jerks his head back toward the van.

As Scott dazedly follows the kid back to his own vehicle, Danny starts, turns, smiles up at him. The sight of it sends shivers crawling up Scott's spine.

“I almost forgot,” Danny says before sweeping an arm out to the city sprawling out before them. “Welcome to Amity Park.”

#drabble requests #Except can this really be counted as a drabble i dont think so #phanfic #danny phantom #this is all kinds of AU #but don't ask me specifics cause i was just vibing #danny fenton #au #outsider POV #horror #kitty-av #thanks for the request!

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stefanp1 · 8 months

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Usually don’t comment much about Dance Tracks but Honey Redmond's post this week reminded me of the importance of working hard and being able look back at not just the glory but the journey. I have been fortunate to have had 30 years in the music business thanks to Claussell Joaquin. Without him, I might have been stuck behind a desk at an insurance company, like I was when we met.

Where did 30 years go? In July 1993 we opened a store that turned into, 3 record labels, a merchandising company, and digital download store. It became a New York landmark for both the NY music community and collectors from around the World. Any minor business skills I may have, were cultivated over 20 years on this block dealing with everyone from the Mafia to the Hells Angels. There is fuckery everywhere, so learning to deal with masters of it was my business school. Like any 21 year old who opens a business in NYC, it was just as hard then as it is now, but we lasted a very long time because of the music we sold and the customers who bought it. Branding people go to business schools for years to try to build this, but that is like letting AI write songs, it lacks soul.

Friday afternoons were an amazing array of people from all walks of life connecting through a shared love of music and record collecting. Contrary to popular myth, the most talented folks were usually the humblest. Norman Cook or Norman Jay came and sat on those black sofas all day raising their hands when they heard something they liked. Danny Krivit always at around 9.50 pm, for his “pile”, Francois asking to pick up the needle so he could “hear that bit again”, it was fascinating to hear music the way he did and to have sold these guys and so many others, records that ended up moving dancefloors across the World.

When asking for a record the lines “Do you know who I am” or I’m a DJ do I get a discount”, were often met with the response established by Stan Hatzakis the original founder of dancetracks, “sorry mate, that is the last copy and its for Frankie Knuckles” who lived a few doors away. He often stopped in for a morning coffee and Joe and I often reciprocated when the store closed on a Friday, by going to the sound factory bar with a white label or a jam he might want to play.

To the customers who came right off work on the F train to second avenue to grab jams for their gigs, or those who just came to be turned onto a new jam, that made a shitty work week worth it. For close to 20 years that is how my weekends started. Records getting played and hands getting raised while we handed out shrink wrapped vinyl to the fiending music lovers in front of us. Anyone who played out or collected rolled by. Many of you in this group who were customers are still my close friends today. They often share messages about a record they heard or that they bought at the store or when they see a Dancetracks price sticker on a record they just picked up on Discogs. I am so grateful to everyone when they reach out, it reminds me what it was all about. Nowadays I have that same feeling when I find a record, or I am turned onto one, by somebody in a record store….forever linked and not by social media.

We had Quentin Crisp at the end of the block, Dee Pop from Bush Tetras who ran the bike messenger service in the middle of the block next to the aforementioned headquarters of the Hells Angels and Frankie Knuckles only doors away from them. When we opened there was not a drug in the world you could not buy on the block which of course brought drama, tragedy and fun.

The store had so many great staff, whose musical tastes were so influential on what went on the wall and more importantly what stayed on the wall no matter how old it was. Remember those days where your music not confined to a few hours on the front page of a website. All of these people were central to the “sound of Dancetracks” which changed with the staff. Phil Duke, Jenifa Mayanja, Kamati Pinkston, Josh Thomas, Jimmy Sky, Tyrone Francis Mickey Miguel, Tommy D Funk, Kalim Shabazz, Ramit Kreitner, June Joseph, Funmi Damian Galban and of course Jacky Sommer, all such great folks to work and listen to music with over the years. Much thanks to Augusta Quiney for such a great logo that still resonates today.

To the distributors whose stock we would hide in their warehouses so no other stores could get it, who always called us when they had something hot, you were all an extension of an ethos that was driven by great music……..never “dancefloor fillers” as they were often described by @Harry Russell, but who also knew the difference between the two.

It was a blast.

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helenaheissner · 4 months

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A Dream of Summer Rain (Chapter 6: I Will Help You Swim)

Her castle traversed the seas, a roaming principality of glaciers carved into buildings and barracks around a central fortress. Her family, black of hair with pointed ears and black sclera and violet irises and empty pupils, lived there with her. They roamed the seas and maintained her empire, killing all those who challenged them. They destroyed the structures of their opponents, killing their cities and hallowed halls and beloved landmarks, executing their leaders before crowds of their followers. Anyone who screamed in their vicinity, who made any unwanted noise at all, was put to death as an interloper.

Always, heroes rose up to face her, to end the Storm. Time and time again, they came for her, and time and time again, she and her family annihilated them. And always they came in groups, in armies, in heroic bands and parties and alliances of light. Until one man came alone: the Chosen One, clad in a resplendent armor that shined with a golden light all its own. His helmet revealed not his face, or even an inch of skin or any identifiable feature, but there was something undeniably, utterly, starkly human about this man, perhaps more so than any other person Lacy had ever met. He was tall and strong, and had been waiting for her all his life and all her life so that he might lop the head from her shoulders and end the hideous silence that strangled the world.

He appeared from nowhere, a shining portal of golden light exploding in the air. He stood tall and proud beneath her castle, and she looked down from atop her tower. On his side, he carried a Zweihander made of Midnight Iron.

Her family attacked him en masse, and he drew his sword and made quick work of them. All of them. Her family, three-hundred and four strong, all fell to the Chosen One. Soon, she stood above him alone as he threatened to bring back all the noise, the wretched cacophony of the human species.

She could not allow that. She would not go back to that- she would rather die than risk drowning in the noise.

And so, she brought her Star down from the sky to accompany her into battle. The Chosen One reached into his heart and retrieved a Star of his own. It was the same burning blue orb of power as her own, a twin, a mirror image, good where hers was evil. The Storm on the Horizon and the Chosen One fought, and the ocean boiled and the sky burned and the winds descended upon the land like the endless fall of the damocles.

Silence met cacophony.

The earth was no more.

***

Lacy woke up, unsurprised to find her sheets drenched in sweat. She didn’t groan, didn’t shake, didn’t even feel the usual tinge of shame. It was normal- it had been normal for her for years. She didn’t know why she was so ashamed of it. The nightmare was terrifying- what she’d seen, what she’d been seeing, was terrifying. She didn’t want any of that. But for now it was just a dream. It didn’t have to mean anything. Or at least, she prayed that it didn’t.

She stripped her sheets from her bed and gathered them up. Time for laundry- she’d been putting it off for the past week.

A heartbeat neared her room. Danny knocked on her door, and she opened it before he could say anything.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Uh… Just checking on you.”

“What for?”

“Well you’ve been getting up earlier and earlier the past few weeks, but today you’re back to sleeping till noon. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

“Oh… Fair enough. Thanks. I’m all good, though. Had some weird nightmares, but that’s nothing new,” Lacy said.

“Okay.”

“Besides, today’s Saturday, right? Day off and such.”

“Day off, right,” Danny said, sucking in his cheeks.

She hadn’t told him what she’d been doing. She still made calls, usually during the small hours of the morning when all she could do was leave voicemails, but she was still meeting her quota and so he’d not questioned it. But still, he had to be wondering what exactly it was she was doing every day.

“Any big plans?” Danny asked.

“No. You?”

“I was thinking of going to the range, then maybe picking up some fireworks and setting them off tonight. You wanna come?”

Gwen gave her the day off. Lacy had been working her ass off every day for the past few weeks, and she could certainly use a distraction from the inside of her own head. “Sure,” she said. “Just lemme get dressed.”

To her own amusement, the process wound up taking over an hour. She only owned the one dress Gwen had given her, but she’d also purchased and learned to apply makeup. Well, she was learning to apply it, at least; it took a bit to get her face into a non-clown situation. When she was done, however, she beamed at her reflection: clean-shaven, with light foundation, eyebrows done, mascara applied, eyeshadow brushed on, lipstick a light red over her lips. She put on her chucks and met Danny in the kitchen, where he nursed a cup of coffee and a slice of leftover pizza. He did a double-take when he saw her.

A spark of shame ignited in Lacy, stoking her panic. “Does it look that bad?”

“No! No, no not at all. You look great. It’s just a bit surprising,” Danny said. Then his eyes went wide. “Wait, wait, no. Th-that that came out wrong.”

Lacy smiled with relief. “You’re good, man. Come on. Let’s go shoot guns and blow shit up.”

Jordan’s Gun Range was on the west-end of Grand Rapids, a converted warehouse in which dozens of firearms were housed for recreational purposes. They parked out front, and when they went inside, a choir of stares slammed into her. The expressions ranged from confusion to curiosity to amusement to outright disgust. Lacy’s heart beat louder than anyone else’s in the room, so loud she could barely hear anything else.

Danny stood next to her, and they went up to the front counter. “Hi. We’re back. We’d like to fire some guns.”

The man at the counter, a portly, bearded fellow with both arms sleeved in Confederate flag tattoos, looked at them back and forth. “Your friend looks a bit different than last time.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, his voice dropping in pitch as an angry growl infected his words. “You gotta problem with that?”

“Danny, don’t,” Lacy said.

The clerk laughed.

Lacy clenched her fists, shook her head. “Don’t do this for me, I can handle it,” she said. Then she faced the clerk. “Question still stands- do you have a problem with that?”

“With you? I mean, you’re a-”

“Do you want our money? Like, ever again?” Lacy asked, staring directly at the clerk, not blinking, not looking away. “Or do you want me going to the news with this- because no matter what their take on it is, they’ll hop on it to get a day’s programming out of it, the beautiful fucking parasites. And then after that comes the part where a swarm of know-it-all college kids from East Lansing show up with picket signs and megaphones- you wanna deal with that?”

A minute passed. The clerk laughed again, and said, “Sure. Whatever you say, freak.”

“You work at a gun range in northwestern Michigan- I seriously doubt I’m the freakiest person you’ve ever seen. I doubt I’m even the freakiest person you’ve seen today.”

The man didn’t laugh this time, merely smiled gently. “Why don’t you get out of here before you hurt yourself, tranny.”

Lacy brushed an errant lock of her long brown hair from her face, then smiled. Then she wound up a fist. Danny grabbed her, held her back, then pulled her out of the range.

They went to go shoot bottles in the woods instead, like they’d done as children.

Lacy held a Diamondback DB9 9 mm pistol, slightly too large for her hands. It was an object of power, an instrument of death, and yet at the same time… It was literally just a few sculpted hunks of metal crammed with ammunition. If you unloaded, it wouldn’t be much deadlier than baseball to the face. She’d held real power. She still held it. It wanted her to have it. Weirdly enough, this gun felt safer. At least she knew what she was getting into with this thing.

She emptied her clip. Her first two rounds missed the target wholesale. So she focused her breathing, and she listened, and she took aim. The next two rounds winged the bottles, then finally the other two were direct hits and shattered instantly.

She looked over to Danny’s respective shooting gallery- all direct hits, no bottles remaining. “Nice work,” he said when they finished up.

“You too,” Lacy said. It was honestly scary how good a shot he was.

After that they drove back into town, to a fireworks shop owned by three elderly identical triplets named Isha, Kamala, and Amirah Khara, wherein they bought a full set of twelve rockets. They stopped by a pizza place on the way back and picked up square pineapple, bacon, and jalapeno pie, and they drove past their bungalow on the edge of town as it bled into the forest.

They parked in an empty field, and they set off the first rocket while Lacy gingerly bit a slice of pizza, trying not to smudge her lipstick. The night sky was a black canvas of stars and moonlight. Lacy flinched, looking up at it, but was reassured when the rocket burst in an explosion of color and light. Lacy sat on the ground and looked up at the sky, and she listened to the screeching sound and let it pour over her perception.

Two heartbeats.

A dozen explosions.

A snapping twig.

Lacy jumped up and ran directly at the source. She dove through the woods, the wind curving up around the hem of her dress. She stopped a hundred yards into the trees, spun around on her feet looking for the source. Where was it, where, where where where where where where where-

“Lacy!”

Lacy pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees while swinging a fist. Danny jumped backwards and avoided the blow by a quarter-inch.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Danny asked.

“Did you hear that?” Lacy shouted.

“Hear what?”

“The noise- a twig, snapping!”

“Lacy, I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of fireworks going off.”

“I heard something- it- it- it…,” Lacy trailed off.

Danny stared at her flatly, his face half-shadowed in the moonlight. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Lacy’s eyes were wide as plates, and her arms hung limp at her sides. She looked Danny directly in the eyes as her breathing spiraled.

“We’ve been here before,” Danny said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Lacy stared at him for another thirty seconds before finally the words came tumbling out of her sandpaper throat. “My parents are dead.”

Danny blinked. “Fuck. I am so sorry- I-”

“That’s not all of it,” Lacy said. She dragged her arm upwards and held her left hand flat over the ground. She breathed in, out, in, out, as she let the Stardust falling from the night sky flow into her, the electric river of cosmic energy resonating inside her veins. She channeled it through her heart and ignited it with her spark. She reached into the earth, into the stray dandelion seeds on the ground, and they bloomed from seed to flower in moments. The seeds were carried away on a wind Lacy wound through the trees with her right hand.

Danny blinked. He collapsed to the ground and sat down, his legs folded together. Lacy offered him a hand up, which, after five minutes, he took. After that, they gathered their things and went home. Lacy explained everything to Danny over a bottle of vodka, and by the end of the night he was caught up.

***

Looking to read ahead? Want the whole story right now? Buy the ebook here:

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jermzfantasycollection · 1 year

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The Broken Glass.

The Broken Glass is a book by Alain Mabanckou, published on June 2010.

Alain Mabanckou

Broken Glass himself is a sixty-four-year-old former teacher who has become a bit too enamored with his red wine. After being suspended from the classroom for erratic behavior, he becomes a regular at the local bar Credit Gone West, run by a certain stubborn snail.

Alain Mabanckou's riotous new novel centers on the patrons of a run-down bar in the Congo. In a country that appears to have forgotten the importance of remembering, a former school teacher and bar regular nicknamed Broken Glass has been elected to record their stories for posterity. But Broken Glass fails spectacularly at staying our of trouble as one denizen after another wants to rewrite history in an attempt at making sure his portrayal will properly reflect their exciting and dynamic lives. Despondent over this apparent triumph of self-delusion over self-awareness, Broken Glass drowns his sorrow in red wine and riffs on the great books of Africa and the West. Brimming with life, death, and literary allusions, Broken Glass is Manbackou's finest novel- a mocking satire of the dangers of artistic integrity.

Australian author Adrian Stirling’ debut novel, the young adult thriller Broken Glass (2008), is a moody and atmospheric portrayal of a failing farming community whose claustrophobic influence leads a tormented young man to commit a series of increasingly rash and self-destructive acts. Critics praise Stirling’s ability to evoke life in rural Australia, to depict the closed-mindedness of a decrepit small town that has decades of secrets and hatred simmering under the surface, and to ground the reader in the physically stark and barren landscape that undergirds the novel. In 2009, the novel was on the shortlist for Australia’s Gold Inky Award, which recognizes high-quality young adult literature. The fictional town of Broken Glass, an Australian borderland town whose only landmark is a tall silo, is suffocating equally from the dusty, grit-filled air that suffuses the place, and from the stifling insularity of its culture. It is a hopeless place in particular for its younger residents, who have limited opportunity, almost no hope for the future, and feel oppressed by those around them. Jobs are scarce, limited to only two major employers: the local abattoir or small family-owned business barely making ends meet while neighborhood farms fail “four years out of ten.” Twenty-one-year-old Danny Clarke is one such young man, although his situation is even more prison-like than usual. When he was 16, his life was ruined in a spectacular way that continues to affect his present-day existence. Although the flashbacks told from his perspective that explain this event are scattered throughout the novel, this summary will relate the plot in chronological order.

REVIEW OF THE BOOK:

Whatever else might be in short supply in the Congo depicted by Alain Mabanckou, imagination and wit aren’t . . . Broken Glass is a whistlestop tour of French literature and civilization, and if you don’t know your Marivaux, your Chateaubriand, your ENAs and Weston shoes you’ll miss a lot of the gags (“a quarrel of Brest,” anyone?)—but don’t worry, there are still plenty left. It’s not just French writers who make an appearance. That arch navel-gazer Holden Caulfield . . . has a walk-on part, and Broken Glass ends “we'll meet again, in the other world, Holden, we’ll have a drink together . . . I’ll tell you what they do with the poor little ducks in cold countries during winter time.” Although its cultural and intertextual musings could fuel innumerable doctorates, the real meat of Broken Glass is its comic brio, and Mabanckou’s jokes work the whole spectrum of humour . . . Much of the writing from Africa (or at least most of the stuff we get to see) is of an earnest or grim character, and it makes a pleasant change to encounter a writer who isn’t afraid of a laugh.” —Tibor Fischer, The Guardian.

This is not cute Africa, as described by Alexander McCall Smith . . . Mabanckou is one of Africa’s liveliest and most original voices, and this novel pulses with energy and invention.” —The Times of London "Broken Glass has a loud and living voice, an almost overwhelmingly singular style masterfully translated with dedicated consistency by Helen Stevenson, with fireworks on every page, and expertly navigates its many unapologetically human projects. It casts a bright, honest light on its subjects, and asks questions that are democratic, serious, and perilous for those in power: Whose stories are worth telling? And who gets to tell those stories? All of this even as Mabanckou beautifully, subtly, sadly, and, yes, redemptively tells the story of a narrator grieving from the bottom of a bottle. The book is profoundly literary, bouncingly readable, funny, heartbreaking, obscene, fierce, and restorative. It’s a book of love, really. Tough love. What more could you want from a masterpiece?" —Scott Cheshire, Los Angeles Review of Books.

Set in a sad-sack Congolese bar called Credit Gone West, this ingeniously satirical novel by Congolese poet and novelist Mabanckou (African Psycho) creates a microcosm of postcolonial African experience through the tales of sodden bar patrons. . . . Literary allusions (Holden Caulfield has a cameo) and gentle ironies punctuate this wickedly entertaining novel.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “It is the author's sense of humor—and he can find humor in even the most tragic or vulgar circumstances—that makes Broken Glass a memorable and successful novel.” —Booklist “This novel is, among other things, an idiosyncratic and raucously impertinent tour of the Western canon . . . It’s also worth noting that, unlike many authors who might be called experimental, Mabanckou is funny, and his Rabelaisian riffs are a brilliant counterpoint to the real despair and dysfunction he depicts. Important, entertaining and subtly moving.”—Kirkus Reviews “A dizzying combination of erudition, bawdy humor and linguistic effervescence." —Melissa McClements, Financial Times.

APROACHES USED:

FORMALISM- formalism is used as a critical approach in the story by its formal vibe and delivery of the words by the protagonist.

BIOGRAPHICAL- it is also a biographical because the "Broken Glass" life was being portrayed in the story.

PSYCHOLOGICAL- this approach can also be considered in the story because the story showed the drunk man drinking wine to lessen his sorrow.

MOOD: Sorrow and sadness

THEME: the theme of the story is about the importance of remembering.

POINT OF VIEW: 2ND person

SYMBOLISM: "a strong storm of sadness is brewing in the horizon"

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bubblegumbeech · 2 years

Text

A Natural Connection

Day 1: Avatar the Last Airbender

Danny was lost. He really should have known better than to go exploring on his own again, but both Tucker and Sam were busy and he just really, really wanted to get out and explore.

Besides, Dani had been there as well, her eyes shining with obsession and he couldn’t say no! He could only harden his heart so far! Her obsession was based on travel and exploration and he was making a map.

It was (seemingly) a match made in heaven.

Except now he was lost.

He didn’t even know what had happened to Dani.

He was wandering in a different part of the zone, one that seemed more alive and vibrant than he was used to (then again his part of the zone was called the Barrens for a reason.) Small spirits that looked like a strange, somehow adorable cross between squirrels and pigeons ran past, brushing against his ankles.

Danny giggled. Wait, he was getting distracted. It just… felt so nice here.

In every other part of the Zone he always felt most at home in his ghost form, the ectoplasm energizing him and keeping him stable, powerful. And in the mortal world, at least his, he always felt heavy and weighed down in his ghost form. Like it was draining his energy and he tended to favor his human form.

Here… he felt like he could switch back and forth with little more than a whim and it wouldn’t be much different at all. It was kind of nice. Maybe this place was dedicated to liminals like him? Was it just closer to the Mortal realm it was anchored to?

He didn’t know.

Making another mark on his map, he started heading to the largest landmark he could see. It was part of the plan he and Dani made to find each other again if they got separated.

The area around him was brimming with life- well not life, but life energy? Or at least something similar. The ghost plants and animalistic spirits were abundant and active. The smaller spirits were sometimes curious, sometimes mischievous, and sometimes easily frightened when Danny’s own aura flared too strong. The larger spirits had mostly left him alone.

It kind of felt like he was exploring an alien world and oh Ancients if Danny let that particular thought process go on any longer Dani wouldn’t be the only one caught up in an Obsession high.

“Hey you!” a loud voice called out. Danny quickly looked around and saw an older teen with short brown hair and an admittedly impressive figure. She looked human at first glance, but Danny had learned a long time ago that first glances and first impressions were rarely to be trusted.

Especially with her.

She was strong, connected to the land around them in a delicate, intimate way. The power inside her barely held back. Probably a Liminal like him and Dani then.

He let himself float down to talk to her. “Uh… can I help you?” he asked.

The Liminal Woman crossed her arms. “You have a sister?” she asked, kind of awkwardly.

Danny nodded slowly, she was probably talking about Dani.

“Great,” she gestured behind her, “Can you pry her off of my girlfriend?”

Danny looked where she was gesturing and saw his clone talking animatedly with a beautiful black haired woman holding a glove and demonstrating some kind of electric power. Danny shivered, he hoped they kept that far away from him.

“Dani!” He called out, floating towards them but keeping his distance. All the better to not get shocked. No, he didn’t have a phobia. It… it just hurts. More than other things. More than anything else.

“Oh! Danny!” she called back, dropping the glove and floating up to meet him at eye level. She was practically vibrating on every atom and Danny found himself hoping she’d packed some stabilizer spray just in case. Like sure, she hadn’t needed it since the incident that will not be named, but it never hurt to be safe right?

“What are you doing bothering these-“ he looked down. The woman who was talking to him before was definitely liminal, like them, but the woman she was with looked very much human. Very much not ecto-contaminated or dead in any way. “People?”

He hadn’t been thinking about it before but as far as he knew, mortal humans being in the ghost zone wasn't a good thing. It was difficult to find natural portals, even more so ones that opened to the correct realm. Or the correct time. Normal humans needed normal human things like food and water and the same foods and drinks a liminal could find perfectly good to eat or drink were liable to kill them.

Which made him wonder if they were trying to somehow find a way home? Was that what Dani had been talking to them about earlier? Before she got distracted? If they needed help Danny couldn’t just leave them stranded here, but with how far away this was from the Barrens he doubted they were from his world. Should he call for Wulf?

“You’ll never believe it!” Danni interrupted his spiraling thoughts, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “They have a permanent portal here! A permanent Natural portal.”

Oh, that… that was actually pretty interesting.

And definitely going to keep him here long enough for Sam and Tuck to notice.

#Danny Phantom #Crossover Danuary Week 2022 #LOK #crossover #Bee's writing #It's LATE I know I wasn't gonna dooooo it but then I had to

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

Life's Great Lie 15

AO3

Edit: Sorry I forgot the readmore!

Predictably, the sand dumped them on top of yet more sand.

“Oh, jeez,” said Valerie, squirming. “I think there’s sand in my underwear.”

“The risks of going to the beach.”

“This is not a beach.”

In fact, they seemed to be in the middle of a sweltering wasteland. Tucker scanned the green and swirling sky for landmarks. Although things moved frequently in the Ghost Zone, they tended to move together.

Tucker shrugged. “It’s sort of a beach. Beach-like, anyway. You should suit up.”

Valerie scowled at him, but activated her suit, the red crawling over her limbs. Before it had finished assembling, Tucker had roughly figured out where they were.

“Far Frozen is the closest. Unfortunately, Skulker’s Island is closer.” He pointed at the skull-shaped island. “We’ll want to avoid him until we have backup, but we might want to swing by later.”

“You’re kidding,” said Valerie.

“Not really. He’s a pain, but he’s got that weird sense of honor. He won’t go after Danny when he’s mind controlled.”

“Yeah, but he might go after me. Or one of you two idiots. It’s not like Norse gods are common.” She flicked her hand out towards Thor, then looked at him. “What is he doing?”

Thor was also surveying the sky, looking grim. “So… This is Helheim.”

“Maybe?” said Tucker with a shrug. “I don’t really know how well your history lines up with mythology, or even if there are, like, other afterlives. Could be a completely different afterlife.”

“It will be difficult to find Banner here. I had hoped he would be somewhere nearby.”

Tucker hadn’t. He was all for giving the guy a good long time to cool down.

“Well, maybe we can get Skulker to find him for us. He’s good at that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, if you want him to hunt Dr. Banner down,” said Valerie.

Tucker turned to look at her. “You sound very incredulous for someone who came to help me recruit ghosts to fight aliens.”

“And you sound very judgmental for a guy who’s going to be riding shotgun on my hoverboard.”

“Hey, this staff isn’t just for show. I can fly, too.”

“You what?”

“Oh, hey, is that who I think it is?” asked Tucker as they started to angle down into the heart of the Far Frozen.

“It is!” exclaimed Thor, putting on a burst of speed. “Banner!”

Dr. Banner jumped, partially dislodging the thick fur blanket the yeti’s had draped around his shoulders.

Well. That was easier than expected.

“Don’t startle me,” he said. “Did you not see what just happened?” He stressed the words, but the rest of him was a picture of practiced calm.

“Now, now,” said Frostbite, “I think you have a much better handle on your condition than you think.”

Dr. Banner responded by rubbing his face. “Everything about this week is so… How did you even get here?”

“Magic,” said Tucker, raising his staff. “And Valerie’s hoverboard.”

“And my hammer! It’s good to see you, Dr. Banner!”

“You’re a doctor!” exclaimed Frostbite. “Why didn’t you say so? We’re always thrilled to meet fellow healers.”

“Oh,” said Dr. Banner. “Um. I didn’t realize you were…”

“The Far Frozen has some of the best doctors in the Realms,” said Tucker.

“We like to think so, certainly! Are you here to pick up your friend? Will the Great One be joining us as well?”

“Er, about that. We need your help…”

Stark Tower was in that strange architectural limbo between ‘almost finished’ and ‘move-in day.’ Sure, such a big building in such a big city would have people moving in as it was finished, not just after the finishing touches, but it was far from full. The top, private, floors were the only ones that were entirely fit for habitation. Most floors lacked furniture, finished paint and other decor, and key wall and ceiling panels.

And, therefore, people.

Ground floor security was easy to take out. From there, it was just a matter of getting the portal set up. Wires put in place. Final touches on the portal device. Alignment. Breaking into Tony Stark’s private bar.

“Are you sure you should be doing that before a battle?” asked Danny.

“We do not become intoxicated nearly so as quickly as you humans.”

He paused, digesting that. “Do Asgardians get alcohol poisoning?”

“No,” said Loki.

Too bad. That meant Danny couldn’t cause mischief by knocking bottles out of Loki’s hand to protect him from the evils of alcohol.

“This is really quite good for a human brew,” mused Loki.

Danny shrugged. He wouldn’t know.

A streak of red and gold outside the window caught Danny’s eye.

“They’re here,” he said. “At least one of them.”

“Wait for him,” ordered Loki. “I am sure we will not have to wait long.”

Tony flew by the tower again, this time spotting Loki through the windows, leaning against his bar. With the portal device having reached the point of being self-sustaining (despite him and the Fentons both believing it wouldn’t get to that point just yet), it looked like he might have to go to Plan B. Or C. Honestly, he’d lost track at this point.

He landed on the platform, past where the gauntlet would have activated. He didn’t want to strip this armor. Even if it was a bit banged up, it was the only set he’d modified to deal with ghosts. With Fenton.

Now, if the aliens started showing up, he might have different priorities.

He glanced upwards at the portal device at the top of the tower. Nothing yet. The Fentons had assured him that he’d know for sure when it was finally activated.

He walked in.

“Please,” drawled Loki, “tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity.”

“Uh,” said Tony, improvising. “Actually, I’m planning to threaten you.”

“Really,” said Loki. “That explains why you’ve kept your armor on.”

“Hm, yeah, I know, not very hospitable of me. I’d offer you a drink, but it looks like you’ve already made yourself at home.”

“Stalling me won't change anything.”

“Oh, I know, I know. But I’m not stalling. I’m threatening! By the way, you doing okay over there, kid?” asked Tony.

Fenton gave him two thumbs up and a dopey grin. “Copacetic.”

“Practicing for your SATs there, kid?”

“Nah, I’d use something like superlative or splendid if I was doing that.”

“Right,” said Tony. “Anyway, you sure are drinking a lot. Having second thoughts?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “What is there to have second thought about? The Chitauri are coming, and nothing can change that. What do I have to fear?”

That… sounded weirdly resigned.

“The Avengers?”

Fenton snorted. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, that just sounds like the name for an edgy boy band. Do you have matching outfits.”

They didn’t, thank God. Teenagers were brutal. “You won’t be laughing when you’re up against the rest of the team. Earth’s mightiest heroes.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got to save your air for breathing in a fight. Hey, Loki, can I call you Loki Ono?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, she’s famous for breaking up a band.”

“No.”

“We’re not the Beatles, kid.”

“Yeah, if you were musicians, I’d actually be scared.”

“What, and you’re not scared of the demi-god, the super soldier, the Hulk, and a pair of master assassins? All of whom your boss has managed to piss off?” At least partially by kidnapping Fenton, but that was beyond the point.

“Not really,” said Fenton as Loki continued to sip Tony’s top-shelf… actually, no, wait, that was the mead. Why did Tony even have mead? “Not even sure what a Hulk is in this context. That’s not the name of your helicarrier thing, is it? Because if so, yikes. Might as well call it Titanic II.”

“Okay, fine, you’re a teenager, you’re not scared of anything. What about your parents? And what’s his excuse? Kinda sucks to be hiding behind a kid, man.”

“Enough,” said Loki. “I have an army.”

“We have a Hulk.”

“Do you?” Loki smirked, then stalked forward until he was standing just outside of Tony’s reach. “For all your talk of allies, you are awfully alone up here. Tell me, have they abandoned you and whatever ill-formed plan you have to, what, exactly? Save a few more lives? Stave off the… inevitable?”

“You’re missing the point. There’s no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe you win the day. But that’s as far as it goes, because what we can’t protect, we’ll avenge.”

Loki regarded him coolly. “Vengeance, is it?”

“I consider it more balancing the scales of justice.”

“And do you think this world is in balance?” Loki laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. “There are those who would disagree with you!”

The tower shuddered, just slightly. Tony twisted to see a beam of light pushing its way into the sky. So much for his hope that Loki would have to do something to the portal to make it work. But that had only been Plan G.

“Take care of him.”

Tony turned back to see Fenton directly between himself and Loki. The boy smiled the kind of smile that wouldn’t be out of place on an exhausted child actor. Cherubic and unhinged.

“Speaking of vengeance, I never did pay you back for what you did to Tucker, did I?”

He put his hand flat against Tony’s chest and shoved.

This was one of those good news, bad news situations. Only, it also had a worse news category.

Good news: Mr. Stark, Iron Man, whatever, had added ghost countermeasures to his armor.

Bad news: They hurt.

Worse news: They didn’t hurt nearly enough to stop Danny.

Good news: Loki seemed to be processing some of the cognitive dissonance that had (presumably) been shoved down his throat via mind control.

Bad news: There wasn’t any more time for him to process it.

Worse news: Even if this fight turned out the way they hoped, Loki would probably be killed for what he’d done.

Good news: Selvig had successfully put a couple of really nasty fail-safes into the design of the portal device.

Bad news: No one that wasn’t mind-controlled knew about them.

Worse news: There was an alien army descending on the streets of New York, and despite all his hinting, it looked like his ghost army plan had fallen through.

Millions of people could die today.

Danny would be, at least partially, responsible.

But there wasn’t time to contemplate any of those problems, because being thrown through a window didn’t really stop a guy with jet boots.

Iron Man shot a volley of ectoblasts at Danny. The mechanism for the blasters seemed to be shielded, or at least notably altered from his parents’ original designs, so he couldn’t steal the spark from it like he’d been able to do with the SHIELD agents in Germany. That was fine. Danny deflected half of them and snatched the other half out of the air before throwing them back, pushing Iron Man further away from the window.

Please let him decide the aliens were the bigger threat. Danny didn’t want to be stuck fighting him.

Luckily, his prayers seemed to be answered. Iron Man pulled away, spiraling to meet a flight of small alien ships. Danny watched him for a moment before turning and following Loki out to the balcony.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we wait,” said Loki.

The Ops Center threaded its way between skyscrapers. “Not a lot of places to park, here, guys,” said Jazz, glancing over her shoulder in hope of guidance. “Someone’s going to have to give me more directions soon.”

“Just keep following that light,” said Captain America, shrugging on a backpack of some sort. “You’ll want to wait until you’re as close as possible to turn on the ghost portal.”

Jazz did a doubletake. “Is that one of the emergency parachutes? I don’t know when they were last checked—”

“They’re from the quinjet,” said Black Widow, striding by with a parachute of her own.

“But—”

“We’re hoping you can park us on a skyscraper, don’t worry,” said Barton.

“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Sam.

“I don’t know, you’re the one with a jet pack.”

“I’m the one that knows how to use a jet pack. And I’m staying with the Ops Center, anyway.”

Something Jazz was glad for. The Ops Center was great, but it would be a sitting duck once it was parked and acting as a platform for the portal, and she, well, she had an arrow hole in her shoulder. Not great for the whole fighting thing. Or even really for flying.

This injury would definitely have repercussions later in life, which was something she was trying not to think about too much right now.

“Oh, what is that? Is that a space whale?” asked Sam, leaning forward over Jazz’s shoulder.

It did in fact look like a space whale.

“I don’t know,” said Jazz. “Should I put down?”

“We’ll want our portal as close as possible, sweetie!” called Maddie from somewhere in the depths. “Keep going!”

“We’re not quite done with it yet, anyway!” yelled Jack.

Black Widow hissed something in Russian. Jazz reciprocated the sentiment. They didn’t really have time.

But what they had would have to be enough. The radar screen lit up, beeping urgently.

“We have fliers inbound.”

“Great,” said Black Widow. “Let’s see if we can’t get a couple.”

Natasha stood next to Barton and watched as Captain Rogers cranked open the lower hatch, then tapped her earpiece. “You’ll have to get us over them and slow,” she said. “Still think you can do that?”

“I said I could,” said Jasmine Fenton.

Natasha almost rolled her eyes. Teenagers. Except she’d never been quite like that. Never got the chance.

(She couldn’t help but think that Jasmine Fenton would have made a great Widow. She already had ignoring pain down.)

“Hold on tight, everyone. Ride’s about to get bumpy.”

The Ops Center tipped upward suddenly, forcing everyone to grab onto the handrails, and accellerated.

“So, uh,” shouted Barton over the wind, “I don’t think we actually discussed how we’re going to do this!”

“That’s because we’re not! I am!”

“Oh, that really makes me feel a lot better!”

“Contact in five, four, three—”

The rest of Jazz’s countdown was cut off by the impacts of the chitauri’s weapons on the Ops Center shield.

“Be ready to cut shielding!” She saw black-brown outside the window, getting closer. “Now!”

She jumped. Free fall lasted less than a second and then she was bringing her knee down on an alien helm. She twisted, kicked, and grabbed the handlebars. Time to see whether or not these aliens thought similarly enough to humans to design vehicles in a way she could understand. Not at all guaranteed, given that American and Russian vehicles often felt like they were made on two different planets.

But that was what the parachute was for.

It was fine.

She pulled back, the vehicle arcing, reversing course. Great.

“Bringing it back around.”

“Great, tell me when you need me to let you in.”

“The portal is ready,” chimed in Maddie Fenton. “Should we activate now, or…?”

“See the building at our two o’clock?” asked Captain America.

“Yeah?”

“Anchor there. Hawkeye, is that a good enough position for you?”

“I can make it work.”

“Great,” said Natasha. “Captain, get ready for pickup.”

“Roger that.”

Jazz pulled a lever and felt a jolt as two thick Fenton Cables hit the roof of the building under them, securing the Ops Center as much as it could be away from its home base on top of Fentonworks.

“Ready, sweetie?”

Jazz locked eyes with the spindly, monster-spewing white tower extending upwards from Tony Stark’s skyscraper. At this range, she could see small figures moving around on the roof of the building.

“Yeah, ready,” she said. “Ops Center secure.”

The lights flickered, and a high-pitched whine emanated from belowdecks. Then, from right beneath where Jazz’s pilot seat, a horizontal beam of bubbly green shot out before splashing against nothing, only meters away from the Tesseract portal beam. She twisted her controls, changing the Ops Center’s bearings and sweeping their portal beam further away from the other portal beam. She didn’t know what crossing them would do, but she didn’t want to find out.

The end of the ectoplasmic beam twisted, trembled, flexed, and a vibrantly green portal swirled into existence.

“Guess we’re just waiting on Tucker, now,” said Sam.

“Or on Danny,” replied Jazz, grimly. The figures on the roof had stopped moving.

She was quite certain one of them was her brother.

“What in the Nine Realms is that?” demanded Loki.

“A ghost portal,” said Danny.

Loki bared his teeth and visibly started to grind them. “One of your parents’ creations?”

“Most likely.”

“Do you know how to disable it?”

“Probably, yeah. Are you going to tell me to do it?” If he did, and if Loki was clever about his wording, Danny would have to hope that his nature as a ghost would be able to overpower the mind control in at least this specific instance.

Loki glared down at him. “No,” he said. “You’re staying with me. Let them play with their toys. They will be no match for the chitauri.”

“… And that’s why we need your help.”

Pandora nodded gravely. “I see,” she said. “We will join you. An invasion of Earth affects all of us, even here. I will send one of my fastest messengers to the Dragon Kingdom, so you may lead us to the portal at once.”

“Er, problem,” said Tucker. “There is no portal yet. It’s—”

The Fenton Finder beeped. He pulled it up from where it hung on his belt, scanning the screen.

“Never mind,” he said. “Portal’s right this way.”

This is probably it for this fic for the next month or so! I'm participating in the Phic Phight again this year, and that usually sweeps me away quite handily. You might see more chapters for Dannymay, though!

Wish me luck!

#life's great lie #danny phantom #op!dannyxmarvel #op!dannyxmarvel au #danny phantom/marvel #dp/mcu #dp/marvel

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timberwolf-wwe-marvel · 2 years

Text

A new Family

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Summary: Daniel presents the evidence collected from last night, resulting in a panic attack. Not to mention, Walker checks on his grandson, not expecting to see the punk there as well.

Daniel heads back up at three in the morning, regretting the all-nighter decision; three hours later, he pulls himself out of bed. With a yawn, he enters the kitchen after throwing on a pair of shorts and a shirt. Cracking six eggs, scrambling them, adding cheese, pepper, and salt to the mix, he opens the fridge to grab the leftover bacon. With a smile, he plates the eggs and bacon, pulling ingredients for pancakes from the cupboards. “There’s juice in the fridge for you, Jazz, Danny; high concentrated ectoplasm is in the freezer.”

Danny had the best dream ever; he fought Vlad when his parents started to shoot at them; Timberwolf made his entrance, knocking the tech out of their hands. He then spins, hitting Vlad in the chest, both did a quick victory dance. “Danny,” said teen grumbles, “Danny, if you don't get up, I’m gonna eat breakfast with Timberwolf while you don't.” Both teens enter the kitchen; Jazzs’ attention is drawn to the file sitting on the counter. “There’s juice in the fridge for you, Jazz, Danny; high concentrated ectoplasm is in the freezer.”

As breakfast went on, Daniel set the file on the table, “That a case you’re working on?” The older male opens the file, both Jazz and Danny pause; it’s a picture of Pirah Dark if he were alive. “Danny, I need an answer, did you fight Pirah Dark,” the spoon in his hand drops, Jazz grips his shoulder. A bright light flashes, Phantom is in Daniel’s face, “Why should it matter?” Jazz grabs the file; she pales; it’s a lead on the Guys in White, they’re planning to find the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.

“A lead on the Guys in White came up recently, claiming to have the technology to enter the Ghost Zone and free Pirah Dark,” “And you want me to help you stop them.” Daniel nods, pulling out a disk; a map appears as he sets it on the counter. “The point of entry into the Zone is seven miles away; the problem is, it’s at the bottom of Lake Eerie, located between Canada and Wyoming.” Jazz looks up from the file, Phantom has since calmed down, but he hasn’t changed back into Danny. “Why do you need my help again?

I saw all the gadgets and tech in your den; you can easily take care of them.” Daniel sighs with a smile, “Jazz, turn to the next page, please.” She does so, “Wait, Danny is to meet up with,” “My Great Grandfather John Walker, yeah. I released the Lunch Lady, asking her to inform my grandfather, he should be,” a blue mist escapes Phantoms’ mouth. “Well, well, it seems the family punk has finally met the ghost punk.”

Ghost Zone

48 hours prior

“Let me get this straight,” Walker snaps, standing across from Lunch Lady. “My great-grandson sent you to tell me that those Guys in White folks are makin’ their move?” The Lunch Lady nods, Walker sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose; his attention turns to Bullet. “Have everyone on standby; this may be the only time I see my grandson out of the annual reunion in Romania.” Bullet nods, escorting the Lunch Lady out with him; Walker walks behind his desk, opening a drawer with the human world item he’ll allow.

Walker ventures toward a desolate part of the Zone, eyes scanning the surrounding area; he spots a landmark. The crushed metal fragment earns a chuckle; Walker continues forward, slowing to a halt. The large face of a wolf blocks his path, meaning his grandson isn’t in his den. Resting a hand against the doorway, the eyes open; its maw opens wide, letting Walker fly inside. A resounding slam jolts Walker out of the natural portal; looking at it now, it’s more like a lake.

The ghost warden looks around, his eyes land on the Spector Speeder; biting back his rage, he flies out of the den. He turns invisible just as the Phantom gets in his grandsons’ face, “Why should it matter?” Walker notices how the girl, Jasmine if he remembers, grabs the file. “A lead on the Guys in White came up recently, claiming to have the technology to enter the Ghost Zone and free Pirah Dark,” “And you want me to help you stop them.” His eyes narrow at the sight of Pirah Dark, “Why do you need my help again?

I saw all the gadgets and tech in your den; you can easily take care of them.” Walker looks up, just as Jazz’s asked to turn the page, “Wait, Danny is to meet up with,” “My Great Grandfather John Walker, yeah. I released the Lunch Lady, asking her to inform my grandfather, he should be,” he turns visible. “Well, well, it seems the family punk has finally met the ghost punk.” Phantom whirls around, hands glowing ecto-green, “Phantom, Walker, glad you could make it.

The plan is simple, you and Phantom take your men to the natural portal at the bottom of Lake Eerie. I’ll sabotage the Guys in White and figure out why they want your sister, too. While I’m causing chaos, you two, along with Walker's men, figure out how to close the portal. Jazz, I want you down in the den; that way, you can help a safe distance,” Daniel picks up three earpieces. “Danny and Jazz, you two are defense; before you ask, I’m not a ghost nor a Fenton.

I’m a Romanova, and the Guys in White have hell to pay!”

#Danny Phantom #OC #jazz fenton #dp walker #GIW

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ladylynse · 2 years

Note

Hello again, it's me the one that asked about Le Fantôme. I saw your replied, thanks for that. Glad to know that it wasn't a bother. I don't think I know the previous version of that scene to know how much had improved, I just going to say that for me is perfect :) :) Well, I don't know about others but I'm following on both ff and ao3 so I, at least do follow your updates. Also, why not just keep it as "Le Fantôme" sounds great and much better than just calling it 'The Phantom', though that would be hilarious XD XD (just because it is a crossover between DPhantom and ML). But of course that would be just your decision, good luck with it :) :) Also luck with all surrounding it if you ever work on it, and with all your stories in general.

(re: this ask)

It wouldn't be the first time I've named an ML crossover for the villain, I suppose. *grins* I hadn't posted any other version of that scene, so in case you're curious, I'll stick it below the cut. Whichever one I use would still need a bit of tweaking, but this is the one that we can pretend is only take two. (Here’s take one.)

Danny checked to make sure the coast was clear one more time before picking the Infi-Map out of its container. He grinned as he unfurled the parchment in his hand. Tucker was so going to eat his words. Served him right for thinking Danny couldn’t sneak into the Far Frozen to grab the map.

They didn’t plan on keeping it for long, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Tucker had bet Danny that he couldn’t do it. Sam hadn’t been there to take sides, and somehow Danny had managed to claim that he could be there and back within an hour. If he was going to manage that, he would have to actually use the map.

“Okay, you know where I really need to be right now,” Danny murmured. “Let’s go.”

The map jerked forward, nearly flying out of his grip, and Danny found himself pulled through the Ghost Zone much faster than he could fly. He moved far too quickly to identify landmarks—the world was a blur of green occasionally blotched with purple streaks—and when he first spotted the bright green spot that was clearly a portal, he was relieved. He was going to make it.

And then he realized, as he got closer, that the portal wasn’t nearly as big as it should be, and the next blink confirmed that it wasn’t rimmed with all-too-familiar metal.

The next blink pulled him through the portal.

The map stopped.

Danny didn’t.

He was falling before he could really comprehend what had happened, but he knew enough to fly back toward the portal.

Problem 1: The portal winked out before he could reach it.

Problem 2: The Eiffel Tower is very distinctive, and that was enough to tell Danny the map had not only not taken him to Tucker, but it had also taken him straight out of the country.

Problem 3: He was maybe three hundred feet above the ground, but he still collided with someone.

They fell at least twenty feet, maybe more, before he felt a cord wrap around him and pin him to the other guy. Danny didn’t have a great view of the person he’d hit—all he could see was blond and black—but he didn’t want to scram until he was sure the guy was okay. Or girl. Honestly, he couldn’t tell right now.

There was an explosion of words he didn’t understand—French, presumably—and, as he swung toward the Eiffel Tower, the guy he was tied to—definitely a guy, judging by his voice—shouted something.

Danny didn’t realize that was actually important until he felt the Infi-Map start to crumble in his hands.

He phased through the cord. It caused the other guy to shout in surprise, but he wasn’t going to just fall to his death, so Danny concerned himself with chasing after the scraps of paper that had been the Infi-Map.

Even the fragments he caught dissolved as he touched them, leaving nothing but a faint dust on his fingertips.

He pulled to halt and hovered in midair, staring. The Infi-Map couldn’t really be gone. This had to be some kind of elaborate joke.

After all, it was impossible to destroy the Infi-Map…wasn’t it?

There was more shouting behind him. Two distinct voices, male and female. Danny looked behind him and blinked. Strange it as had been to collide with someone, and horrible as it was to have the Infi-Map just gone, he had not expected to see a pair of costumed teenagers hanging off the Eiffel Tower and staring at him.

Especially when his ghost sense hadn’t gone off.

The girl in the spotted suit was balanced on a pole that seemed to have somehow been stuck to the side of the Eiffel Tower, defying gravity and maybe a few other laws of physics. She had hauled up her partner—the one Danny had run into, a guy in a cat suit—with apparent ease while he hovered there, gaping. He had never heard of superheroes in Paris. Or anywhere, actually, that he knew were real and not just stories.

What if this wasn’t his reality?

Or what if it was the same reality, just not his time? What if it was his future or something like that? Maybe not distant future—even from this height, the cars looked normal enough—but still. Future. It would make getting home a heck of a lot harder if he didn’t have the Infi-Map. Did that mean he’d been missing for years or however long this was?

“Stop getting ahead of yourself,” Danny muttered. He needed to find something with a date—newspaper, electronic billboard, he wasn’t going to be picky—before he jumped to conclusions. If this was present day, he didn’t need to panic.

Well.

Not as much, anyway.

But definitely still a little, considering the two teenagers from the Eiffel Tower were now heading in his direction, the girl swinging towards him with that rope of hers and the boy using the staff as some kind of crazy helicopter blade. (Danny would be sure that was impossible if he didn’t regularly deal with his own kind of supposedly impossible things every day, sometimes seven times before breakfast.)

It was good motivation to move, even if he didn’t know where he was going.

The girl’s weapon zipped past his head; it was some kind of giant yo-yo, though if it had a proper name, he didn’t know it. The teens were yelling at him again, but Spanish and French were not similar enough for him to figure out what they were saying when they were talking that fast. Trouble was, he had no idea if they knew English.

He didn’t really want to stop long enough to find out, considering how intent they seemed to be on capturing him. Intangibility and invisibility wouldn’t help him for long if these guys had ghost hunting tech.

Skulker hadn’t started outsourcing, had he? That was doubtful, but Danny wouldn’t put it past Vlad. Except Vlad wouldn’t know that he was here, because he wasn’t supposed to be here. Although apparently it was where he needed to be.

Danny risked a glance over his shoulder, eliciting more yells in French from his pursuers. They kept repeating something, and he’d finally figured out what it was: Le Fantôme. Phantom. Ghost.

Okay. So maybe it was Vlad after all.

He wasn’t going top speed, mostly because he kept hoping a portal would open and he’d have a chance to escape before he shot past it, even though he had no idea how he was going to tell Frostbite that the Infi-Map was gone. Consequently, yo-yo girl was gaining on him. For someone he was pretty sure wasn’t a ghost, she was pretty skilled with the thing. It definitely did more than Danny had ever managed with a normal yo-yo. Not that the Fenton Ghost Yo-Yos had exactly been normal yo-yos, but the one he’d had when he was five and terrified of the dark had served as a decent enough nightlight once he’d gotten over the wailing sound it had made whenever he’d touched it.

Still, if yo-yo girl’s proficiency hadn’t given it away, the spotted suit and mask definitely would’ve. If she wasn’t a bounty hunter of some sort, she was a hero defending her city or a villain defending her territory. Which meant Danny was the unenviable combination of threat and target.

Unfortunately for him, her partner didn’t see it any differently.

Worse still, Danny couldn’t see cat boy anymore.

Danny bit his lip, hedged his bets, and pulled into a steep climb. The girl depended on her yo-yo to swing between buildings, so he should be able to count her out as a threat when he was above the skyline. Cat boy…. That was less of a safe bet, but he couldn’t fling himself off the Eiffel Tower this time, and chances were good that he couldn’t gain enough height quickly enough to catch up to Danny, and then he could safely go invisible and lose them, even if they did have a ghost tracker or two with them.

Paris sprawled out beneath him, more brown than green this time of year. Autumn still, or maybe spring. The air lacked winter’s bite, which made it more likely that the portal had only been spatial and not temporal. Granted, if this wasn’t his time or his universe, these two definitely weren’t working for Vlad, which begged the question of how they knew his name.

Danny squinted and raised a hand to shield his eyes as he tried to spot his pursuers. Still no sign of the boy, but the girl stood on a roof and was looking up at him.

“Maybe I’m lucky and they’re not actually after me,” Danny murmured, though he didn’t really believe that. He took another look at the city, trying to pick out a landmark besides the Eiffel Tower. He could spot a few buildings—something with a gold dome, probably a church; the glinting glass pyramid in front of the Louvre; what might be the Arc de Triomphe—but he had no idea where he could lead these two where he might have the advantage. He didn’t know a safe place to hide and change back. They must know this city like the back of their hands, especially from the rooftops, and knocking them down to ground level wouldn’t give him any advantage.

Danny glanced back down at yo-yo girl and blinked. Her partner was back, but he wasn’t beside her; he was halfway to Danny, clinging to a still-extending pole. Danny yelped and shot forward, aiming for somewhat neutral ground: a tall building with a flat roof about ten blocks away. He needed information, which they could probably give him if they understood what he was asking. If they did have ghost hunting weaponry with them, they weren’t using it yet, so he should be safe as long as he went intangible. They probably spoke English, and if he let them catch him, they might actually tell him something. Maybe even help him, once he convinced them he wasn’t a threat.

If they had magic, and it seemed like they did, it might not be too late for the Infi-Map. They might be able to fix it. Not that there was anything to fix, and that’s really what worried him. He’d always just sort of assumed that the Infi-Map was indestructible, that Frostbite kept it locked up only so it didn’t fall into the wrong hands, but obviously that was wrong. He wished he’d seen exactly what cat boy had done to it or that he even had the pieces of it to return on the faint hope that Frostbite could fix it, but now….

Now, he just hoped he’d get home, no matter how much trouble he was going to be in—with Frostbite, with his parents, with Jazz and Sam and Tucker….

Focus. He needed to find out when he was and see if there was anything obvious that would tell him this wasn’t his reality. He’d assume the fact that Paris needed a couple of superheroes would make the news, but then again, he didn’t really watch the news. Besides, in Amity Park, it was mostly ghost-focused, and almost no one else except for those in Elmerton even seemed to believe what happened there. If that was the case here—

Danny had hardly touched down on the roof he’d been aiming for before he heard two more thumps behind him. Half the baton whizzed by his ear; these guys weren’t wasting any time. He turned around, only to see the yo-yo sailing toward him again. He decided not to fight it—flying away wasn’t getting him anywhere, and he did want answers—and got clocked in the head by the rebounding baton for his trouble. “Ow! You know that hurts, right?” He should have gone intangible anyway. Granted, that would have made the yo-yo cord fall, and them thinking he was captured was worth the pain and inconvenience.

It wasn’t much different from getting hit by the Booo-merang, really.

The two teenagers blinked at him and exchanged quick glances with each other. “Un Américain,” the girl muttered. “Bien sûr. Plus de touristes.”

“Um. English? Hopefully?”

“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t entirely sound it. “Je m’appelle Ladybug. This is Chat Noir.” She nodded to her partner. “And you are Le Fantôme.”

It wasn’t a question, so Danny didn’t take it as one. He just nodded. “Danny Phantom, actually.”

Chat Noir frowned. “Danny Phantom?” he repeated. “Not Le Fantôme?”

Danny shrugged, since he could still move his shoulders, if not his arms. “Or Phantom. Just not one who hangs around an opera house.”

Chat Noir grinned at him, but Ladybug was looking alarmed. “You aren’t…. Je suis désolé, Phantom, we didn’t realize.” The yo-yo cord around him loosened and fell even without him going intangible. He was really starting to think magic played a role with these two; this kind of thing seemed more up Desiree’s alley than Technus’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you like us?” asked Chat Noir.

Danny wasn’t sure what that meant, and he wasn’t sure if that was just a consequence of Chat Noir translating something wrong in his head. Danny hesitated, looking at them. The masks might obscure their features a bit, but these guys were teenagers, just like he was. And whether or not their weapons were magical, something about Chat Noir’s question made Danny think there was more to it than being a teenage superhero. He just had no idea what that was.

“I’m a ghost hunter in my hometown,” Danny answered slowly, “and I try to protect people, like you are.”

“Ghost hunter?” Ladybug repeated.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, they’re a problem back home. I help keep it under control. I’m, um, not supposed to be here. I came through a portal by mistake.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged glances, so Danny quickly added, “It’s a long story.”

A few more seconds ticked by, making it more and more unlikely that he was lucky enough that Clockwork would step in, stop time, and rescue him. That would have been a perfect time to whisk him away. And Clockwork would have known that. Maybe the Observants were watching more closely than usual. Or maybe he figured Danny should lie in the bed he’d made, mess though it was.

Crud.

“Look,” Danny said, “I know I might’ve freaked you guys out by mistake, so I’m sorry.” Apologies were always a safe bet, especially when you were going to ask for help in the next breath. “Um, I’m guessing you’ve got some kind of magic thing going on, so I don’t suppose you can fix my map?”

It was a long shot.

He knew it was a long shot even before he saw them exchange those looks again.

But he still had to ask.

“Honestly, I’m just passing through. If you can get my map back somehow, I’ll be out of your hair, and you can go back to whatever it was you were doing before I dropped in.”

He still didn’t know why the map had taken him here in the first place. Ladybug and Chat Noir were clearly capable heroes in their own right. They didn’t need him, so he could freely go back to Amity Park, which did still need him. And then, maybe the persistent tickle in the back of his throat would go away. It was annoying, like his ghost sense was in a constant state of about to go off—which he’d always kinda figured it was at home, except clearly not, given what this felt like.

“If you wait, I can fix it,” Ladybug said, “but I can’t yet. We need to find someone first.”

“My lady and I are on a ghost hunt,” Chat Noir added. “Perhaps you’d care to join us, since that’s your expertise?”

“Le Fantôme isn’t really a ghost,” Ladybug hurriedly put in, no doubt misreading the look on Danny’s face. “He’s still alive. Still un humain. Just…with ghost powers.”

Something clicked, and Danny’s eyes widened in realization. “You don’t know what he looks like. Are you even sure this phantom of yours is a guy? Could it be a girl?” No wonder the Infi-Map had brought him here. These two weren’t trying to track down a ghost. They were trying to track down another halfa.

Chat Noir and Ladybug exchanged uncertain looks and who knew how much silent communication before Ladybug finally admitted, “C’est possible.”

What if they were after Dani?

“Why are you hunting them? What did they do?” Danny didn’t realize he’d moved forward until Ladybug stepped back and cautiously raised her yo-yo. He hadn’t even realized she’d retracted it.

“We need to find Le Fantôme to save Paris,” Ladybug replied. “You do not need to help us, but if you try to stop us, we’ll fight you, too.”

Great. She, at least, still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. Of course, they’d lose if they did try to fight him, if Danny didn’t hold back, but he didn’t fight humans. He fought ghosts. And if he had to, he’d fight Dani, now that she wasn’t in danger of dissolving into goo whenever she used her powers. Vlad might not be pulling her strings this time, but what if there was someone else like Freakshow out there? Dani knew better than to draw attention to herself. She shouldn’t have done something to put herself on the radar of Paris’s superheroes.

But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe it wasn’t Dani. But there were only three halfas in existence, and these two were looking for a human with ghost powers. They might not know the name, but they had the description right. And Danny knew Vlad was stuck in Amity Park, reopening the Town Hall. Dani was the one travelling the world.

Assuming he was still in the same time he’d left, anyway, but these two would definitely think he was crazy if he asked what date it was. Best to tag along and figure it out once he knew who he was dealing with. “I’m not going to stop you,” Danny said. “I’ll help. I just want you to know this might all be some big misunderstanding.”

“There is no mistake,” insisted Ladybug, her tone making it clear Danny wouldn’t be able to easily convince her otherwise.

“Not a ghost of a chance this time,” Chat Noir put in, sounding entirely too cheerful for the situation. His smile only seemed to widen when his partner shot him an annoyed look. “We have a good lead. The Ladyblog hasn’t been wrong yet.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “People usually like a good ghost story, so this was already picked up by the mainstream media, too, and your little stunt hasn’t done much to end the panic. We need to act quickly. If you’re going to help, stay with us. We need to keep looking.”

Danny opened his mouth and nearly choked as his ghost sense went off. “Oh, no.”

Dani had never set off his ghost sense, surprising him more than once because of that.

As Ladybug and Chat Noir started their attack, Danny turned. This wasn’t their fight, not really. It was his; that was why the Infi-Map had brought him here. He was the only one who could stop—

Danny’s eyes widened when he realized who he was up against, and a split second later he was blasted off his feet.

#ladylynse #asks #dp/ml crossover #ml/dp crossover #fic: le fantôme #at some point I will not have access to a keyboard to easily make that symbol so #fic: le fantome #my writing

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geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 7 -- Black Hearts

Word Count: 15131

READ ON AO3

For many, the Ghost Zone landscape would be chilling, at best, and nightmare-inducing, at worst. Unlike Earth and its well-defined limits, both natural and manmade, the Infinite Realms consisted of an infinite abyss of floating ectoplasmーif you travelled, you knew where your journey would start, but not where it ended. Most people didn’t even know when it ended, either.

Only a few experienced visitors were knowledgeable enough to recognise each and every one of its landmarks to guide them. Fortunately for Danny, he was one such experienced visitor. As well as an inhabitant.

Maybe he didn’t know the Ghost Zone like the palm of his invisible hand, like Sojourn had in his day, but seven years of travelling back and forth between dimensions had certainly outlined a pretty accurate map of the dimension in his mind’s eye. That, and the fact that the Far Frozen trusted him with the Infi-Map now and then also helped.

But even he had to admit, crossing over to the other side during his first few months as halfa had been terrifying. His past self would never have been able to believe he’d one day be flying around what was on the other side of his parents’ portal like he walked down the halls of Casper High every day of the week for four years.

Indeed. Getting to see the Ghost Zone for the first time had been even more mind-boggling than getting used to suddenly being able to walk through the walls, disappear, and fly. Compared to Amity Park, his kingdomーhe didn’t think he’d ever get used to calling it thatーwas a haunted house, sponsored by Bill Gates and provided with cutting edge animatronic and holographic technology, and open all year long.

Well, it would have been sponsored by Bill Gates if it weren’t for Vlad overshadowing him and selling the company to himself years ago.

Considering he’d rather die (twice) than buy anything belonging to VladCo, Danny found himself being very glad the Ghost Zone was no haunted house, after all.

Now, however, he’d learned to appreciate the Infinite Realms for what they were; unpredictably beautiful. The once creepy light coming from the floating ectoplasm now reminded him of the groovy vibes one got from a lava lamp. Both substances were, in fact, pretty similar! Since ghosts created their own lairs, he didn’t have to worry over solving any sort of problem related to lack of affordable housing; unlike what he’d have to do had he been, say, mayor of Amity Park? President of the United States? And the repair damages were minimum! Ghosts didn’t usually throw rocks at their own roofs, so battles inside the Ghost Zone were rare.

Of course, that last one thing was a bit of a double-edged sword. Because it meant that while he didn’t have to worry about the possible destruction of the Ghost Zone, it also meant his subjects usually blew off steam in Amity Park...which then came to bite him in the ass in the form of a very angry mob of ghost-hating citizens.

The joys of living in two parallel dimensions at the same time…

Shaking those thoughts away, Danny refocused his attention on the current task at hand; patrolling the Zone in case anybody chose to ignore his orders and go against the witches during their next visit.

He’d be lying if he said nobody had warned him of the reaction his plan would most likely get from his subjects, both Frostbite and Clockwork let him know several times, long before he even sent the letter to Lady Arcana. Well, in all fairness, Frostbite had warned him; Clockwork just kept smirking at him with those all-knowing, secretive, red eyes of his. The only real warning he’d got from him was when he asked for his opinion on what’d happen and the Ghost of Time limited himself to raising his eyebrow at him with a, “What do you think?”

When he wanted to be, Clockwork was an invaluable ally and a great mentor. But that was only when he wanted to be, mind you. The rest of the time his smug crypticness was enough to make Danny want to throw himself off of a cliff.

But they’d both been right when they told him his subjects would not react kindly to the presence of witches in their realm. Who would’ve known phantom tomatoes acted just like the Fenton Foamer? If it didn’t put him in immediate danger, he would bring some home for his parents.

In the end, the only way to convince them to let the witches in was to ensure a powerful ghost would keep an eye on them at all times. Skulker would escort them to his lair, and from then on he’d be watching them himself.

Even if the spirits had eventually given in to his request, Danny knew better. He’d be a fool to think his advice would be heeded by every single inhabitant of the Ghost Zone. He had far too many enemies for that.

While most of his adversaries had turned into more of friendly rivals than outright enemies over the years, being capable of having civilised conversations with him whenever they weren’t trying to waste him or enslave Amity Park, there were many others who refused to bow down before a halfa. Ever since Pariah Dark was defeated the first time, ghosts had got used to living in anarchy, being able to do whatever they wanted as long as they were smart enough to not invade a more powerful ghost’s turf. So following some random half-ghost’s orders after centuries of chaos and freedom was out of the question for them.

On the one hand, many of Danny’s detractors were actually as delusional as the Box Ghost. More often than not, he’d be battling rogue spirits with barely formed physical bodies who were in way over their heads. Normally a few ecto-rays, some quick banter, and a little bit of Fenton Thermos was enough to take care of them.

But, on the other hand, the few more powerful ghosts who weren’t members of his usual rogue gallery truly sought to dethrone him. If they eliminated him in the process, even better!

Obviously, the most notorious member of this group was none other than Plasmius. The older halfa had orchestrated Pariah’s return with the intention of defeating him and becoming the next Ghost King himself, after all. And for what? To have his teenage, much less experienced archnemesis steal the crown right under his nose.

Danny had to admit, if it weren’t for the high price to pay that came with the honour wearing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire (an ‘honour’ he didn’t even want to have in the first place), he would’ve enjoyed screwing over with the fruitloop like that.

Ever since he became Ghost King, Vlad’s plans had been few and in between. Maybe a few attempts at making his life a living Hell, some shudder-worthy upgrades on his Maddie Programーhe swore, if he had to listen to a hologram of his mother call that demented creep ‘lambchop’ one more time, first, he was going to barf, second, he’d see red, or in his case, greenー, perhaps a few ill-conceived attempts at getting him to join him…

Despite Vlad’s inactivity, however, Danny knew better than to think he was just getting sloppy. Knowing Plasmius and his love for playing chessmaster, he was patiently biding his time. Sooner or later, he’d hear from him, and it wouldn’t be good.

Still, even if he was his greatest enemy in terms of personal interactions, Vlad wasn’t his most menacing foe in terms of sheer danger.

Spectra and Bertrand also wanted him gone, due to seeing his intervention as interference with their misery-sucking plans. Indeed, since he became Ghost King Danny was extra careful with who left the Ghost Zone and who was absolutely forbidden from even looking at a portal twice.

For example, knowing Kitty, she’d just want to go out on a date with Johnny, and, on paper, there was nothing wrong with that. Trouble came when Johnny ogled and hit on other girls with his girlfriendーrightーbesideーhim! Honestly, if he were Kitty, he’d pummel Johnny, too. Especially because his actions more often than not resulted in a jealous ghost girl causing mayhem.

The most useful life lesson he’d learned while going through puberty was also one of the firsts: girls were scary. And that seemed to apply to all girls regardless of their species; humans, ghosts, witches, gorillas…

Spectra was no exception. Due to her need for misery to keep herself young and powerful, the shadowy ghost needed to learn how to get under her victims’ skin to exploit their weakness to the point of making them miserable enough to harvest. And, Danny knew from experience, that was far more frightening than any other ghostly power Spectra could ever possess.

She saw beyond people’s masks, no matter how carefully crafted they were, and got inside your head. Not only did she know your biggest fears and insecurities, but how to exploit them and make them all come true. She forced you to live your worst nightmares over and over, almost as if she were Nocturne's far more malevolent accomplice, reaping your fears like a farmer would reap wheat.

Spectra threw those insecurities in your face, reminding you that you weren’t good enough, explaining to you why you weren’t good enough, and assuring you would never be good enough; all in that sadistic, cheery tone of voice of hers. Just thinking about it was enough to send chills down his spine.

But what was truly the most daunting thing about Spectra was that, for years, she’d been feeding off of some poor kid’s low self-esteem and personal issues under the pretext of being a psychologist. Her office back in Casper High before he found out the truth and defeated her was full of pictures of her and sickly-looking kids; her previous victims. Dozens of kids who were completely at her mercy because she’d spent years roaming freely around Earth, blending in, long before he was even born, let alone had the accident. Dozens of kids who’d surely been as deeply traumatised as he’d been. Or, even worse, dozens of kids Spectra managed to push over the edge, under the guise of helping them.

That psychotic old hag and her lap dog had a special place in his black list just for their mere potential of becoming a threat, let alone when they truly were threatening. As a result, one of the things he wasted no time in as soon as he became Ghost King was to ensure they wouldn’t be going back to Earth in a very long time.

Needless to say, his interference with their ‘feasts’ was enough to have them declare war on him. Well, let them come. He’d be waiting for them.

Another ghost who tended to give him quite a headache whenever he felt like taking his turn at challenging him was the Fright Knight. Back in their first encounter, his first Halloween after gaining his powers, Danny believed he was a formidable foe. Incredibly powerful and hellbent on turning the world into his nightmarish kingdom, the Fright Knight used to be one of his most dangerous adversaries.

Key word being ‘used to.’ Well, that was two words, but whatever.

In their next encounter, which, coincidentally, also happened to be when Pariah Dark was released (thanks again, Vlad), the almighty, terrifying, ‘flaming sheets of doom’ Fright Knight had been relegated to errand boy.

As Danny would soon come to realise, the Ancient Spirit of Halloween was proud, but tremendously cowardly.

If he believed himself superior to his opponent, he would show no mercy. But the moment he was one-upped by someone else in terms of power, he’d cower and bow down in submission. Which made their personal relationship with each other all the more interesting.

In terms of power, Danny knew, maybe a little too smugly, that he had the upper hand. Whereas in their first battle he managed to defeat the Fright Knight just barely, years of ghost-fighting, of developing new powers, and of being in possession of the ring and crown (which he still refused to use unless it was absolutely necessary), had shaped him into a formidable fighter.

And the Fright Knight knew that, which was why he often avoided conflict with him.

In terms of respect, however, due to Danny being extremely young compared to other powerful ghosts, the way he ascended the throne and, to add insult to injury, the fact he was half-human, the medieval-like spirit refused to accept him as his ruler. Hence, his rare attempts at taking him down.

All in all, even if the Fright Knight quite wasn’t the same threat he once was, Danny knew he still should watch out for him. Because for all his self-importance, the Halloween Spirit really was undergod material, and that meant whoever employed him would be much worse than him…

Like Vlad.

Other than Plasmius, Spectra, Bertrand, and the Fright Knight, the other ghosts who challenged his rule were the god-like ones; Undergrowth, Nocturne, Vortex… But they usually kept true to their goals of world domination so it wasn’t much of an issue, in a way.

While he hadn’t had an encounter with any of his old nemesis for a while, it was all a matter of time before they chose to use his tentative alliance with the witches against him. Which brought him to his current patrol. As he oversaw the vast infinity of the Ghost Zone, steering away from Ghost Writer’s manorーanother lovely fella who didn’t quite like him, even if he surely wouldn’t try to usurp the throneー, Danny used his vantage point to make sure no suspicious activity was going on.

Just as he was about to call it a night, his eyes caught sight of three familiar silhouettes standing on top of a drifting chunk of rock not far away from him. Furrowing his eyes in suspicion, he sped up to catch up with them. In a matter of seconds, he’d flown across the distance separating him from his target until he was floating above the unimpressed expressions belonging to Ember McLain, Johnny 13, and Kitty.

The three of them seemed to be loitering around on top of the aforementioned drifting chunk of rock, looking bored and completely uninterested in anything around them. They almost looked like a bunch of teenagers just hanging out. Kitty was seated, cross-legged, on top of the bike seat, her elbows propped on her knees and her hands cupping her face. Beside her, Johnny was leaning against his bike, arms crossed. A few feet away from them, sitting on a rock with one leg crossed on her other knee, Ember was mindlessly tuning her guitar. That wasn’t suspicious at all...

Over the years, some of his most recurring opponents decided to upgrade their look, like Technusーthe guy was more fashion-oriented than Paulina Sanchez from high schoolー, while others remained mostly the same but with a few added upgrades to their modus operandi, such as Skulker.

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, depending on how you looked at it, the hunter’s girlfriendーhe had to physically stop his gag reflex from acting up whenever he so much as thought of those two as a coupleーchose to remain true to her signature look. The same flaming, blue ponytail; the same tight, asymmetrical, black outfit; the same haunting green eyes and exaggerated make-up that contrasted greatly with her deathly pale skin…

All in all, Ember was pretty much the same. Still loud, still vying for attention, still obsessed with leading teenage rebellion through music...And she still had the same awful taste in boyfriends. Although, he supposed, in a way Skulker wasn’t as bad a catch as her best friend’s beau.

Kitty did change her outfit, albeit slightly. Though she still favored her signature combination of black and red with just a touch of green, she’d abandoned her classical red miniskirt and fishnet stockings for a pair of skin-tight, red leather jeans. Instead of her mid calf boots, she currently wore a pair of black, ankle boots. She still wore a black tank top, too, only this time it was much looserーjust like she also had the same green pendant. As for her unruly, green hair...she chose to wear it up in two twin buns, fittingly shaped after cat ears, each on either side of her head; with two loose strands framing her face. A pair of fingerless, black biker gloves completed the ensemble.

Everything about her screamed ‘biker chick’, the only thing missing was her own bike.

Maybe, tired of Johnny blowing her off, she’d decided to show him she was as much of a biker as he was, if not more. Or, maybe, she opted to dress that way precisely to remind her boyfriend and everybody else just who was Johnny’s girlfriend.

Honestly, the girl was sweet (sometimes), but she was a mystery. For all the complaining she did about Johnny, that certainly didn’t stop her from getting a 13 ーhis unlucky numberーtattooed on her right arm. Danny just wondered if Johnny had a kitten or anything even remotely resembling one tattooed anywhere on his own body.

...on second thought, he’d rather not think about it.

Johnny himself had changed a little, too, although nowhere near as much or as drastically as his girlfriend. To be honest, he looked exactly the same as always, except for his blond hair now being long enough to be tied in a low ponytailーKitty was right; it was greasyーand foregoing his trademark jacket, opting for just wearing his white undershirt and fingerless gloves, instead. But now that Danny thought about it, didn’t he use to wear a long-sleeved t-shirt, too? Whatever, back in the day it was hard to tell with his jacket anyway. Other than that, he was the same Johnny 13 who once tried to trick Jazz into becoming a vessel for his girlfriend.

Suspicion spiking up, Danny floated over towards them, still keeping a respectful distance in case Ember felt like playing a killer riff for his ears only. “What’re you three up to?” He didn’t feel like beating around the bush.

Their heads shooting up at the sound of his voice, the three ghosts looked surprised for less than a second, before adopting the same bored masks again. Though, to be honest, only the girls appeared bored with his presence, Johnny, on the other hand, looked annoyed, his eyes narrowing in distaste on him.

“What do you want, kid?” He spat.

Danny had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Again with the ‘kid’ treatment. It was always the ‘kid’ treatment. Never mind that he’d been a legal adult for three years now. “I asked you first, Johnny. But since you’re asking so kindly,” he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. He really didn’t have patience for this anymore, “I’ll repeat myself; what are you three up to?” He repeated, this time sounding more serious.

The biker ghost answered by letting out a puff of air, vexed. “What, now we can’t even chill in our own home? Are you going to give us a ticket for loitering or something?” He challenged, slowly making his way over to the halfa, trying to appear intimidating.

He walked calmly, almost calculatingly so, with his face morphed into a wicked grin, one that promised trouble. Once he was close enough to look Phantom in the eye, the two entered a silent staring contest, the tension between them flickering up. Even if the Ghost Kid looked much calmer than Johnny felt, he wouldn’t back down. “Your precious thermos won’t be of any help now.”

Side-glancing their testosterone levels rising from where she was, Kitty let out a huff. Hopping from the biker seat, she squeezed herself in between the two and separated them, both of her hands planted firmly on their chest. “Will you quit it, you two? Nobody’s buying this faux animosity you have going on.”

Knowing they’d been busted, the two jokingly moaned in disappointment, before sharing knowing glances and breaking down laughing. And all the biker girl could do in response was roll her eyes and shake her head, letting her face fall in her hand in exasperation while her boyfriend grabbed Danny by his shoulders and pulled him down, ruffling his snow-white hair with his knuckles. Really, the only difference between grown ass men and children was the size.

“Careful, dipstick. That techno geek of yours is going to get jealous if you keep flirting with others behind his back.” Ember said, watching everything from her rock with a smirk on her face.

“FYI, Tucker and I have an open relationship.” The half-ghost wasn’t above blowing a raspberry at her, making her roll her eyes in irritation. He also couldn’t prevent the snickers from escaping his throat at the sight of Kitty painfully elbowing Johnny on the side when he suggested if they could have an open relationship, too.

“With the way you’re constantly hitting on other girls, one’d think we’re already in one.” She pointed out hotly, her fist on her hips. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing me with other guys.”

“I can attest to that.” Danny added, remembering not-so-fondly the days he wistfully thought he was dating Paulina when, in truth, he was in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Johnny just rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to play innocent.

“But now seriously, what are you guys doing?”

“You know, it really is offensive that you see us doing absolutely nothing and your first instinct is to think there’s something going on.” The biker crossed his arms over his chest, displeased.

“Oh, ignore him.” Kitty told him, putting her hand over the halfa’s shoulder. Even if it’d all been a scheme to make Johnny jealous, Kitty had sort of developed a soft spot for him. As long as he didn’t get in her way, she was one of the less antagonistic ghosts. Danny, in return, often let her and Johnny ‘sightsee’ around Amity Park, as long as they kept themselves out of trouble. “Though we really are doing nothing. Is there a reason why you’d think otherwise, Danny?”

Before the green-eyed boy could come up with a good excuse, Ember’s mocking voice beat him to it. “Oh, please, Kitkat! You should know better than that; he’s obviously got his whities in a twist because of those three harpies that so generously grace us with their presence.” She said in a fake, sugary-sweet voice. Sliding her guitar over her shoulders, the popstar got up from her seat and walked over to the other three. “By the way, shouldn’t they be gone soon? ‘Cause I’d really rather they don’t become regular visitors.”

At the mention of the witches, the easy-going atmosphere immediately tensed up. Just like Ember, Johnny and Kitty were now looking at him, expectantly. It was obvious no ghost appreciated their presence in their dimension. Coughing uncomfortable, Danny rubbed the back of his neck. How did he put this in a way they’d understand? And, most importantly, that wouldn’t encourage them to kill him? “Let’s just say...there’s no expiration date for this.”

“What?!” Growling, Ember’s ponytail flared up, a clear indicator that she wasn’t taking the news well. “What the Hell does that mean, dipstick?”

“Yeah, man! Don’t you know what those rune-reading bitches did the last time we let them near us? What do you mean you don’t know when this’ll be over?!” Johnny demanded, summoning a spectral chain out of thin air. Beside him, Kitty had a hand over her lips. But rather than looking surprised, it was evident she planned to blow his Majesty one of her famous, other-worldly kisses.

Distancing himself from them by rising up once more, his palms up in surrender, Danny tried placating them. That was the problem of having friendly rivals: everything was cool between you until you said something that irked them, then they’d try to destroy without much reservation. “Guys, trust me. I don’t like this any more than you do. But it’s our only choice! Do you seriously want to let the Ghost Zone collapse?!”

That made them settle down. But their glowing, menacing eyes urged him to go on, demanding answers. Sighing, he tried to gather his thoughts. How could he explain to them what he barely understood himself? On their next meeting he was going to demand some answers out of Lady Arcana; no way would he let her hog all the information while he remained in the dark. “Apparently, the witches are a little...rusty, you could say. They’re not as in sync with the portals as they used to be, so the Witch Queen needs to put in the effort to find a solution. That’s why it’s taken us longer than expected to put an end to this”

“And how do you know she’s not lying through her teeth?” Ember questioned in distrust. “That’s what they’re good at; if they need anything out of you, they’ll earn your trust. But the moment they’re done using you, they have no qualms as to what’ll happen to you next.”

“Ember’s got a point.” Kitty agreed. “How do we know they’re not just using us to get something out of us only to ditch us the moment they got whatever that is?” Then, she gasped as a horrible realisation dawned on her. “Even worse...How do we know they aren’t the ones responsible for everything?”

As the three ghosts began chattering and theorising amongst themselves, Danny tried to get their attention back on him. “Guys...Guys, listen...Guys, come on…” Seeing as they wouldn’t be paying attention to him any time soon, he lost his patience. “Would you just listen to me?!”

Satisfied that his abrupt outburst had shut them up, he smirked, before growing wary again. “I understand your concerns, because, honestly, they're mine, too. I know we can’t let our guards down around them; they’re not like the rest of humans. They aren’t a group of ghost hunters with advanced tech, or even more halfas who decided to turn their backs on the Ghost Zone and create their own society. They’re humans that were born with powers; they’re freaks of nature!

“But they’re also our safest bet right now. The Guys in White are too busy looking for ways to haunt me down or for stores that sell all-white clothes to even know how the ghost portals work. Not to mention, they’re too stupid to realise that destroying our world destroys Earth, too.” He rolled his eyes at that. The only thing worse than a pain in the butt was a useless pain in the butt. “Vlad would demand I pass the throne to him in exchange for his help, and we all know how that’d turn out.” He felt a small sort of satisfaction at their cringing faces. “And no ghost understands the mysterious nature behind the ghost portals. The only beings who’ve ever been able to surpass the lass separating both worlds are the witches; I’m sorry guys, but they’re really our only hope.”

“How do we know we can trust them?” Johnny insisted, not one to back down.

“We don’t.” was Danny’s reply, and he felt more defeated than in any previous fight.

The three ghosts exchanged glances, a silent conversation going on between them. Out of the three of them, Ember was the most antagonistic; if she really wanted to, she wouldn’t hesitate to attack him. The lovebirds were a different thing entirely. Most of the time Kitty was content just hanging out, and Johnny’s main goal was to please her, for things got ugly whenever his girlfriend wasn’t pleased… Having said that, just like they could act as just another couple of teenagers or young adults (he never really asked for their ages…), they could turn on him in the blink of an eye.

Dreading their reactions, Danny kept himself aloft. Close enough so they wouldn’t suspect, but far enough so he’d have enough of a head start to get the Hell out of there.

Finally, the three turned their heads to look at him. The fiery spirit was the one to speak. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Her question sent the snow-white haired boy reeling. What did he plan to do about it? In all honesty, it was a good question. Even if he hadn’t seen Lady Arcana and her kind in actionーbeyond a floating book being shoved in his face, that isー, judging from what had been recorded in the Far Frozen’s archives and Sojourn’s journal, they were to be feared. Danny knew how to deal with rogue spirits and even ghost hunters, since his powers usually provided him with the upper hand, but actual reality warpers whose powers he knew next to nothing about? He wasn’t so sure how he’d fare in a fight against them.

Still, he was nothing if he wasn’t resourceful, and holding their meetings in the Ghost Zone gave him a certain advantage over a group of foreigners. He’d find a way. He had to. “Everything in my power.” He answered truthfully.

“I see.” Even though Ember didn’t look particularly impressed with his answer, she let it go. Walking over to her previous seat, her friends following her example, she called out to Danny over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “So, anything to report, dipstick? How’s the missus back home?”

“Har har… Very funny, Ember.” The Ghost King replied sardonically. “You know I’m single.”

“Then you’d better watch out for all your rabid fangirls waiting for their chance to claim you as theirs, baby!” The popstar cackled maliciously. “Seriously, they’re like savage beasts! Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.” She sighed as her laughter died down, pretending to wipe a tear off the corner of her eye. “Sucks to be you.”

“At least Dash Baxter is not part of my fanclub, unlike some other ghost I know...” He retorted, smugly. His smirk widened at the sight of Ember physically shuddering in disgust.

“That was low.” She accused, and all she got in response was a noncommittal shrug.

Eying their conversation with increasing interest, Johnny couldn’t help but add his two cents. “Cut her some slack, man. At least Ember isn’t responsible for the dude’s gay awakening.”

Grinning madly, Ember high-fived him while Kitty rolled her eyes at their antics in amusement, obviously used to them by now. And Danny….Danny didn’t know why he even talked to those guys. Flinching at the implications behind the biker’s jab, he opted to not dignify that with an answer.

“Can we change the topic to...I don’t know...literally anything else?” He begged. He’d have to bleach his brain to get the image of Dash making a Danny Phantom shrine, not unlike Paulina’s, out of his head.

Covering her mouth to quiet her chuckles down, Kitty took pity on him. “Guess who’s going to improv classes in her free time?”

Oh, Kitty. Sweet, compassionate, clingy, jealous Kitty. That was why she was his favourite...after Cujo. And Wulf...and after Dora...she was far behind Frostbite, too, that was for sure... Basically, his favourite after any other ghost he officially was on better terms with. But, hey, the intention’s what counts. “You want to be an actress?”

“It’s a nice hobby.” She shrugged before pointing her thumb at her boyfriend, looking unimpressed. “I’ve tried getting Johnny to come with me, but he just won’t budge.”

Danny pretended he didn’t notice the way Johnny, oh so subtly, inched a little further away from her. “Sorry, Babe. You know I love you, but that’s your passion, not mine.”

“And riding bikes is your passion, but at least I’m still there to support you!”

Uh, oh. The classic bike over girlfriend argument...The ghost biker had better come up with a good enough retort or Danny would be stuck trying to do damage control when they took the fight outside. And by ‘outside’ he meant Amity Park. Landing beside him, Danny elbowed the teenager lightly on the ribs.

At first Johnny just glared at him, but when the halfa returned his glare with a pointed look of his own, he caught his drill. “Don’t be like that, babe! You know I could never replace you. Thing’s just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

There was a twisted irony in the fact that the very same ghost who once tried to replace his girlfriend’s physical form with Jazz’s was the one saying he ‘could never replace her.’

Bored with his answer, probably from hearing it a million times already, the green-haired ghost just turned away from him with a huff. “And yet, that doesn’t stop you from trying. Why don’t you ask Shadow for support? I’m sure he’ll rock the miniskirt…”

Noticing Johnny getting frustrated beside him, if the way he curled his hands into fists was any indication, Danny immediately sent a panicked look at Ember, silently asking her for help. The popstar, in turn, just made herself comfortable. She stretched before leaning back on her rock, her arms behind her head. She was clearly enjoying the show a little too much to want it to stop.

Growing frustrated himself, Danny chose to take matters into his own hands. “I think what Johnny means is that, while you’re a great help and things wouldn’t be the same without you,” he sent a meaningful look the biker’s way, daring him to try and contradict him, “he fears hindering you instead.”

That caught her attention. “Really?”

A quick jab on his side from the halfa was enough to get Johnny talking. “Yeah, totally. I...I already got in between your dream once, Kitten. I’d hate to prevent you from fulfilling it ever again.” He admitted, and the somber way he said those words made Danny realise there was much more behind those improv classes than what meets the eye. Even if it was doubtful he’d ever get a clear confirmation as to what exactly that was, he had a pretty good guess.

“Oh, Johnny!” Tearing up, a hand on her chest, Kitty threw himself at her boyfriend’s arms. “I love you. And I don’t blame you for anything, you know that, right?”

He sent her a small smile. “Just because you don’t blame me doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself, Kitten.”

The red-eyed girl felt like tearing up all over again, but for completely different reasons. Deep down, she knew it’d be a long time before she convinced Johnny he wasn’t responsible for what happened, if ever. But for now, she was happy just touching his forehead with hers, showing him she’d always be there.

Coming to stand besides Ember, a content smile on his face, Danny just watched the couple. The popstar, on the contrary, didn’t look as pleased. “You just had to help them reconcile, didn’t you? You couldn’t let me have my fun.”

“Isn’t she your best friend?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “Don’t you care enough about her to want her to be happy?”

“I care more about her than you’ll ever know, dipstick.” Her voice was laced with venom, as if warning him to not overstep his boundaries, and...something else Danny couldn’t quite decipher.

The few times he’d seen the two girls interact, like when they haunted Amity Park just for kicks rather than some evil agenda, Danny would get the distinct feeling that there was some sort of thing going on between them. And, he had to admit, with the way their boyfriends regularly got on their nerves, Danny wouldn’t be surprised if the two decided to be each other’s Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy and eloped.

But then...there were moments like this. Moments where Kitty would look truly happy in Johnny’s arms, almost as if they never fought. And Johnny? Johnny looked at her like she was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened in his after-life. And she probably was.

Whatever happened to them, it was obvious it interlinked their obsessions with each other. And given ghosts’ complicated natures, it was unlikely they’d ever leave each other’s side. Which meant whatever feelings Ember harbored, they most likely would never be reciprocated. He wondered if Skulker knew…

After what felt like an eternity to their viewers and a few measly seconds to the couple, Ember chose to continue the conversation where they’d left it, in hopes of finally breaking the ‘cute couple’ apart. “So, how’re your classes going, Kitty?”

She also chose to ignore the dipstick’s disapproving look.

“Wha…Oh! My classes. Yeah...” She remembered; her question bringing her back from Wonderland. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her head and her stomach from the little butterflies only Johnny could cause her. “Most of the time it’s cool, but sometimes it’s just…” She made a face, as if that explained everything.

Danny tilted his head to the side. “How come?”

“She says the teacher’s instructions are wild.” Johnny supplied, coming to wrap his arm around her waist.

“The other day, for example,” she started, leaning closer to her boyfriend in a manner that looked almost unconscious, “he told me, ‘try to act like you care, only to don’t care at all,’” she mimicked, lowering her usual pitch to a much deeper voice, “and I was like, ‘okay...?’”

While her two friends exchanged agreements on how weird the directions were, Danny’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so like in high school!”

The three of them just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You know, high school. The epitome of acting like you care when you really don’t care.”

Now, instead of looking at him like he’d grown a second headーsomething he’d actually done when trying to learn to duplicate himself, as a matter of factーthey were simultaneously staring at him and exchanging nervous glances among them. The same way a group of friends would do during an intervention. It was Johnny who broke the ice. “Yeah…” He said slowly. “I don’t think that applies.”

“‘Course it does!” Danny insisted, throwing a hand in the air as if that would validate his point, the other resting on his hip. “Think about it, in high school you’re expected to care about your marks, your extracurricular activities, hanging out with the right group...But deep down you don’t give a fuck about school and all you wanna do is stay at home playing video games, chatting with your friends, eating junk food…”

There was a beat of silence. But whereas the ghost couple wondered just how traumatic his high school experience had been, the popstar looked contemplative, a finger on her chin. “...he has a point.” She said, and now Kitty and Johnny were looking at her like she needed medical help. “Take it from me, the personification of teenage rebellion. My powers would be useless if teens actually cared about their education.”

“Hm, I guess that makes sense?” Kitty conceded. “Alright, so I gotta act like a kid in high school. Got it. Thanks, Danny!” She smiled brightly at him.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved it off.

“Speaking of high school…” Ember trailed off, and the almost predatory look on her face was enough to make Danny want to flee right there and then. “Has the great Ghost King found himself a queen yet? I know you said earlier that you’re single but, c’mon. That can’t be right. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure your last girlfriend’s that Red Huntress chick you used to date in sophomore year.”

“Dude, you haven’t had a girlfriend since high school?!” Johnny looked both personally affronted and astonished at the revelation. “Are you gay?”

Luckily for him, Danny wouldn’t have to blast him with an ecto-ray; Kitty already took care of it. “Johnny! Have you learned nothing from Mean Girls? You can’t just ask people if they’re gay!”

“Pretty sure the actual line was ‘you can’t just ask people why they’re white.’” Ember pointed out.

“Oh, that’s right. Anyway, doesn’t matter. It was uncalled for.” Then she lay her concerned, red eyes on the halfa and he couldn’t help but gulp loudly. He knew that look. He dreaded that look. It was the concerned-older-sister-looking-out-for-her-baby-brother look. Jazz had put a patent on it long ago. “Is something wrong, though? Several years without a girlfriend is a little bit unusualー”

“And worrying.” Johnny added.

“ーfor a young man. Do you want to talk about it? Or, even better, how about I organise you a blind date, hm? I’m sure we’ll find you a nice girl in no time!”

Could there be anything worse than ghosts concerning themselves over his love life? “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He said flatly.

Ember just looked at him like he was crazy. “Um, hello? For better or worse you are our king, dipstick. How do you plan on continuing the bloodline without even a girlfriend?”

“I could just have Vlad make me some clones…” He mumbled to himself. It was meant as a joke, but the mere thought of letting that fruitloop anywhere near his DNA was enough to send chills running down his spine.

Not hearing the halfa’s poor attempt to joke, Johnny snorted in response to Ember’s answer. Shaking his head as he walked over to Danny, his thumbs hitched at the hem of his pants, the biker draped an arm over the halfa’s shoulders in an almost brotherly fashion. “Cut it out, Ember.” He chided with no real malice, before focusing on Danny. “Don’t listen to her, dude. She’s only asking ‘cause she thinks getting laid will help you blow off some steam, enough so you get off our backs for a while.”

“Johnny!” Kitty scolded him, feeling sorry for Danny.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Actually, he is.” The popstar admitted. “Saw right through me.”

His face flushing green, Danny pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. This could not be happening. First, they try to butt in on his love life, and now they comment of his sex life?! Somebody put him out of his misery…

“Again, I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” He groaned in dismay. He could only thank his lucky stars Sam wasn’t there to witness such humiliation. Wait a minute...Sam? Where did that come from?

As he battled with his thoughts, he’d have preferred it if his enhanced senses hadn’t caught Ember leaning close to whisper to Kitty in her ear, “Dipstick’s got no action in weeks, I tell you.”

That was it. “Okay!” He exclaimed, a little too loudly, as he clasped his hands together with a forced, cheerful grin on his face. “As lovely as catching up with you guys has beenーit was great, reallyー, I really ought to keep on patrolling. Ugh, the busy life of the ruler of the Ghost Zone. See ya!” He waved them goodbye as he took off in the direction he came from, drifting away from them.

Before he was out of earshot, though, Ember shouted after him. “While you’re at it try to find yourself a girlfriend!” Then, she mimicked putting something on her ring finger before singing at the top of her lungs. “If you like it, put a ring on it!”

As they cackled at his expense, Danny stopped mid-air. Like he’d ever let her have the last laugh… He cupped a hand around his mouth, calling out to her, “I’m surprised you’re not egomaniac enough to only reference your own songs!”

In an instant, all traces of amusement on the popstar’s face were gone, replaced by irritation. “Fuck you!” She flipped the bird at him, while her two companions now laughed their asses off at her expense.

Meeting her rude gesture with a mock salute and a cheeky grin, Danny turned around, flying away at top speed. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by a group of dimwits, he was alone with his thoughts.

More specifically, he was alone with the thought of Sam.

He really didn’t understand how her memory had popped up out of nowhere, let alone why it’d popped up right when they were discussing his love life, or lack thereof. Not that long ago, the face that would’ve made an entrance would’ve been Valerie’s. Not because he still had feelings for her, although he’d admit getting over her took him a while, but because she’d been the only girl he’d ever had a long-term relationship with.

Okay, maybe saying ‘long-term’ was exaggerating a bit. They began a tentative relationship that lasted all throughout the astounding amount of three different dates, several shared lunch periods, and two weeks.

But seeing as any subsequent attempt at dating someone new either ended in one-night stands, if he was lucky, or in half-finished dates after which the girls would tell him not to bother trying to call them, and that wasn’t even the worst outcome possibleーsometimes he’d been forced to stand them up altogether because of a sudden ghost attackー; he could safely affirm his time with Valerie was his longest dating experience.

And it didn’t even count as dating because she broke things off before they agreed on going steady. Oh, joy…

So, really, even if his feelings for Valerie had long faded, there was still that feeling of familiarity bringing him comfort.

But that still didn’t explain why he’d think of Sam of all people! Sure, they got along fine and they’d seen each other a few times already (last time at the restaurant they didn’t even need Tucker), but there was no sense of familiarity! They were friendly acquaintances, and no more.

So Sam was funny, and smart, and probably the sassiest girl he’d ever met. Sure, her wits and snark were enough to put some of his most punny opponents to shame, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t run out of puns to make during a fightーsomething even he struggled withー, not like she was the kind to make puns, anyway. And that fire that would light up in her eyes whenever she spoke about doing what’s right, and animal rightsーbecause, really, could anyone react more adorably to a Purple Back Gorilla?ー, and the occult... Or the way she stood her ground because she knew who she was and she was so confident in the person she’d grown up to be!

...So what if he needed someone like that in his life back in high school? He couldn’t change the past!

Sam was probably one of the most amazing people he’d ever met, but that didn’t mean anything. Guys could admire girls without having feelings for them or wanting to get inside their pants, now, couldn’t they? If Sam were there, in fact, she’d point out they actually should be able to admire girls with no ulterior motive.

Danny did a double-take, changing course when he was a minute shy of crashing against someone’s door. Sighing in relief as he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, he felt like smacking himself. Again with Sam! There was nothing going on between him and Sam!

Just because he thought she was cool it didn’t mean he was crushing on her or looking for ways to get into her bed. Speaking of...he also had the distinctive feeling she would pummel him to the ground if he so much as thought about it. He liked the feeling of breathing without wincing because one of his ribs was piercing his lung, thank you very much.

Besides, no matter how awesome Sam was, she just wasn’t his type. A guilty part of Danny had to admit, aside from his amazon chasing tendencies (thanks again, Dad), he had a soft spot for preppy girls. His first ever crush was Paulina Sanchez, Casper High’s queen bee and cheerleading captain from freshman to senior year. Even Valerie, despite losing her wealth over the Cujo accident, stayed true to her style from back when she was still popular, just...without the brand clothes.

Sam was not preppy.

He guessed that was a factor in how shocking it’d been to find out she, as a matter of fact, came from a rich family. With all the dough Jazz had later told him her family had, Sam could afford to use new shoes every single day and then throw them all into the trash when she came back home.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she preferred to buy her clothes from second-hand stores and add her personal touch later on, knowing the money would go to different humane organisations, or to buy them from independent stores.

“Those are a bit expensive.” she explained the last time he and Tucker met up with her at the You Mocha Me Crazy. “But the clothes are high quality and tailor-made, so it’s worth it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. That was Sam; always grounded and level-headed, with the greater good in mind.

On second thought, it was unfair of him to judge Sam just because she wasn’t preppy. Sure, she wasn’t his type, but she was still beautiful. How could she not be? With her sleek, black hair that looked so smooth it could put velvet to shame. Or those hazel eyes of hers that were a crystal clear reflection of her soul, full of emotion and mystery. Or her soft, plumb lips, always accentuated by her unusual purple lipstick, drawing your attention to them, almost begging you to kiss them…

The image sent him reeling, almost shooting through the eerie, ectoplasmic abyss of the Ghost Zone before he forced himself to come to a sudden halt. He could hear his heart frantically pounding in his ears.

WHOAH!

Where did that come from?!

Danny took a moment to steady his breath, using his hands to scrub his face. What was he thinking? Just like he had to tell Jazz over a hundred times in the drive back home from the restaurant, Sam was just a girl he knew. A pretty awesome girl, but just a girl.

Even if she were more than that, which she wasn’t, his life was too hectic to involve anyone else. Especially not someone who could be used as leverage against him. There would never be anything more between them. The sooner everyone accepted his life was too complicated to have a normal relationship, the better.

As Danny finally flew back to his lair, he did his best to ignore the way his heart was still fluttering in his chest.

............

They were back to square one.

Just like the last time, Danny had guided Lady Arcana and her entourage deep inside his lair until they reached the Council Room doors. Her Majesty’s two witches kept guard at both sides of the door alongside two of his own guards, while the two royals went inside to discuss. They were still far away but in front of each other, the same old large wooden table separating them. And Lady Arcana looked like she wanted to dissect him with her own hands while he was finding the sweet release of permanent death all the more appealing.

Why was it that progress never lasted with this woman?

Sitting down as regally as possible on her chair, Lady Arcana once again materialised a book seemingly out of nowhere. Only, this time, Danny noticed it was even more beautifully crafted than the last one. “I managed to bring this grimoire with me.” That must’ve been the first time she initiated a conversation. “Hopefully, it’ll have the answers we’re looking for.” Without warning, her violet eyes narrowed to slits, looking at him with as much venom as she could muster. “This is your only warning, if anything happens to this book while it’s in your territory, prepare to face the consequences.”

He’d heard of treating books with respect (mostly from Jazz), but this was ridiculous! “Wow, it must be a really important book. What is it, signed by the author?”

Sam fumed at his pathetic excuse of a joke. Great, like she didn’t hear enough terrible one-liners from hanging out with Tucker. Difference being, she actually liked hanging out with Tucker. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

That took him aback. “Wait, it’s got its author’s autograph? Really?”

She stopped leafing through the grimoire’s pages for a moment to meet his incredulous look. “Of course not! I mean it’s really important!” Bringing the book close to her face, she sneered. “What, is the crown so heavy it turns your brain to mush?”

“Oh, it’s heavier than you could possibly imagine…” Danny muttered through gritted teeth, mostly to himself. As if the Witch Queen didn’t know that already. The dark energy radiating from both the crown and the ring was pure torture, and enduring it a job made for Hercules himself. He was about to retort with a comeback of his own, when his eyes focused on the book’s cover, more specifically, on the golden letters making up its title:

Lady Arcana’s Grimoire

A spike of suspicion bubbling within him, the halfa wasted no time in pointing out his discovery, daring her to contradict him. “If you’re so smart to have a spellbook under your name, then how come you claim you don’t know how to solve the portal problem?”

If she thought she could just trick him like that, she got another thing coming. So what if she was the leader of a group of conniving spellcasters? He’d been fighting toe to toe with Vlad, the biggest, most manipulative bastard he’d ever met, since he was fourteen. Exposing her evil plans would be child’s play.

Slowly putting the book down, Sam looked at Phantom with what she was sure was the most dumbfounded expression she’d ever had. What was he talking about? “Excuse me?”

The green-eyed ghost edged around the table, getting close to her at a tauntingly slow pace. Maddening slow. When he was finally by her side, he got so close she couldn’t help but flinch back. “Oh, you know. Just wondering if perhaps you’re not taking me for a fool and pretending to help just so you and your witches can buy your time and attack us.” He got in her face, his neon green gaze so intense it almost burned. “Hm, Lady Arcana?”

For a minute, Sam just stood there, without moving an inch from her seat. Not understanding his sudden animosity. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t tension in the air whenever the two met up, but most of the time Phantom acted cheeky around her, taunting her with his cocky attitude, as if gauging her reaction and trying to figure out when he’d get a reaction out of her. At most, he’d seem annoyed or resigned when working with her.

But this?

This cold treatment that translated itself into a literal drop in temperature in the room around her? His cool, accusing voice that made shivers run down her spine and the fire of aggravation light up in her heart? The way he looked at her like she was naked in front of him, and not in a lustful way, but in a way that made her feel like he could see right through her?

This was new, and she couldn’t say she liked it.

A dark scowl making its way to her face, the young sorceress spat. “What are you getting at?”

Danny was looking at her through half-lidded eyes, his smile more dangerous than the countless beasts lurking on the Ghost Zone’s most remote corners. “I’d suggest you undo whatever it is that your kind did to the portals, because let me tell you, I will not go easy on you just because you’re a girl.” He growled in a menacingly low tone.

Sam could only gasp in astonishment. But the feeling didn’t last long, soon being replaced with outrage. How dare he? Who did he think he was to accuse her and her people of putting their own lives in danger?! And all for what? To get back at a group of bodiless puppets? He had a lot of nerve.

“Listen up here, you jackー!”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Phantom cut her off with a sing-song voice, a scolding finger raised up and wagging right in front of her face. “A queen shouldn’t cuss like that, your Majesty. It’s not beckoning.”

The purple-eyed witch clutched the table with her hands so tightly, she could hear it splinting under her digits. But she didn’t care. He was taunting her, waiting for her to make the first move so he wouldn’t be accused of attempting against the life of the Queen of the Witches of Amity Park. After all, the punishment was different if an attack was in self-defence, wasn’t it?

She was about to make a mistake when his cocky voice distracted her. “I’m waiting, Lady Arcana.”

Again with the sarcastic tone. Why did her name have to do with any of this?! First he said whatever nonsense of having her own book, which was absolutely ridiculous because she was an avid reader, not a writer. Then he got impossibly close and had the nerve to mock her title, right before accusing her of causing the rifts, and now…

Now it hit her.

To Danny’s immense surprise, instead of retaliating, Lady Arcana limited herself to picking her precious book back up, her irate expression morphing itself into bored disbelief. “When you said I have my own book, did you mean this?”

“Considering it’s the only one with your name on it, then yes. That’s the one.” He deadpanned. What was she up to?

His eyebrows shot up to the ceiling when she sighed, looking beyond done with the entire situation. “If you must know, I’m not the Lady Arcana who wrote this book. She died centuries before I was even born. This grimoire,” she did the unthinkable and handed it to him, “is sort of her research journal. Everything she learned about magic during her time, it’s there. And since our respective species didn’t part ways until long after her death, it should have the answer to the portals as well.”

Listening to her explanation, he glanced down at the book in his hands. Gingerly skimming the pages, for he knew the witch would do well in her previous promise, Danny eyed its contents. Aside from the numerous runes he couldn’t understand and the mysterious drawings he didn’t know how to interpret, it was obvious that in spite of the book’s pristine condition, it had seen better days. The pages were yellowish and rough to the touch, their edges worn-out. And even if one could still make out the symbols, the ink was very washed-out.

In short, there was no way this book belonged to the woman in front of him.

Averting his eyes, he handed it back to get before floating over his own seat and flopping down on it. Ashamed by his actions, though not entirely convinced of the witches' innocence, he slumped down in his chair, refusing to meet her scrutinising, violet eyes.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not having it. “Will you now stop talking about things you know nothing about?”

“I would if you at least let me know something!” He sulked, and Sam couldn’t believe to save her life that a ghost could actually act so childishly.

“Do you have the slightest idea of how frustrating it is to be at a disadvantage?” he went on. “You know what ghosts are capable of, you see them all the time on the news!” Okay, that was a wild guess, but it helped his case. “But I know next to nothing about you, and you refuse to even the ground. So excuse me for thinking you might be responsible for our current crisis because I see your name on a book that’s supposed to put an end to said crisis!”

When a few minutes went by and Lady Arcana still said nothing, he got worried. Either he’d crossed a line and ruined any chance of working together with her in the future, or he’d crossed a line and she was silently cursing him. A morbid part of him wondered if being turned into a frog would be easier than being half-ghost. Both predicaments had something in common; he could end up at someone’s dissection table.

Then, the most unexpected thing happened. “You’re right.”

Danny was so astounded he shot forward from his chair, eyes wide. “Come again?”

The halfa resented the way she rolled her eyes at him. It was a legitimate question! “I said, ‘you’re right.’” She said, leaning forward and trying to meet his eye. She was finding it increasingly more difficult, and Sam had to wonder if it was due to his previous outburst or her own shame. “We’re both sticking our necks here, working with each other. My people might be secretive, but the least I could do is even the ground, as you say.”

Even if, ideally, Phantom was the last person Sam wanted to be honest with, having to lie to so many people in her life was taking its toll on her. And she figured, as much as she hated it, he had a point. It was hard trusting someone when they always kept you in the dark. Her own experiences with Wilhelmina proved that.

But she had to make some things clear, first. “Before I tell you anything, however,” a small, amused smile appeared on her face when she saw him deflate, “I gotta lay out a few ground rules.”

Phantom sighed. “Fine. State your terms.”

“You can ask me whatever you want, and I will tell you as much as I can, but there are things I simply cannot divulge. You must respect that. Got it?”

Knowing that deal could easily become a double-edged sword, against his better judgement, Danny nodded. “Got it.”

“Very well.” She leaned back on her chair, her back straight and fingers firmly clasped together on top of the table. “What do you want to know?”

The halfa didn’t even have to think of his question; it’d been plaguing his mind since he first met her. “How does your magic work?”

Well, that much she could answer. The young queen couldn’t help but see the irony in the way she was about to willingly disclose the very same information she’d viciously guarded from Danny to the Ghost King. “What you call ‘magic’ is the art of learning to control and manipulate one’s anima at will.”

“Anima?” Phantom tilted his head to the side. Sam couldn’t help but think he looked like a ghost puppy.

She nodded as she raised one hand to her eye-level, palm up. With a snap of her fingers, the same sparkly, purple mist he remembered from the floating book accident surrounded her hand. He could only look on, stunned. “Our essence.” Lady Arcana explained, mindlessly playing with the mystical energy, watching as it slipped through her fingers like water. “Believe it or not, everyone has an anima, not just witches. The only difference is that we know how to tap into and summon it.”

“So is it like my ecto-energy?”

“In a way. There is a difference, though.”

“Which is?” He urged her, but she just shook her head.

Danny was beginning to think that was one of the things she’d refuse to share with him when she clarified. “As with the portals, that knowledge was forgotten long ago. We don’t know what makes our essences different; we just know they are.”

“And what about the spells?” Ever since Sam cryptically told him about them, Danny’d been racking his mind for answers, trying to put two and two together. But he always came out empty-handed. He just hoped Lady Arcana had the answers.

She sighed, and once again the halfa feared he wouldn’t get his answer after all, but once more she surprised him. “They’re intrinsically linked to our culture.” He couldn’t help but flinch when she sent him a meaningful look. “They’re also the reason why I call myself Lady Arcana...when that’s not my name.” She admitted quietly.

Understanding the best he could do was give her time, Danny leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined hands that were propped on the table in front of him. He waited with bated breath for her to speak. “To do magic, you have to know the secrets of the universe.”

“The secrets of the universe?” He repeated, eyes wide.

She nodded, pointing at her hand, the one radiating energy. “There is a secret language; the one the universe was created and communicates with. To do magic you need two things: to be in sync with your anima, and to know that secret language so you can get the results you want. Every spell we make we cast it by calling the secret name of whatever we set our minds to. Because of this system, in our culture names give you power. That’s why I go by Lady Arcana, because if anyone were to know my real name, it’d give them power over me.”

Danny had to force his mouth shut at her words. So witches were in tune with the universe on a whole different level than most people. A part of him couldn’t help but point out the similarities between the two, for if people were to find out his secret, he’d be completely at their mercy. Vlad had certainly used his secret against him in the past, the only way it didn’t do more damage than necessary was because he also knew his and could counter attack.

A part of him wished he could ask her the true questions plaguing his mind. Mostly, why? Why did her people sell ghosts out like that? Why did they choose ruining a centuries-long alliance was worth it? Why did they refuse to acknowledge the damage they’d done?!

Just why?

But the sharper part of him, the one who usually took charge of things when coming up with puns or ghost-fighting, knew that question would most likely go unanswered. And at worst it’d bring back the tension their, surprisingly, civil conversation had dissipated. So instead he chose to be the polite young man his parents raised.

“Thank you for coming clean to me, my lady. I…I understand it must’ve been difficult.” He tried to channel his best intentions through his grateful grin.

For a minute Sam just stared at the ghost in front of her, speechless. She had to admit, Phantom had proved he could be mature, albeit usually after enough jabs and pointless arguing, so it shouldn’t have come out as such a surprise that now he seemed genuinely grateful for her honesty. And yet, the sincerity in his glowing, green eyes, and the kindness radiating from his smile were enough to make her heart flutter, touched. The way he looked at her made him seem almost completely harmless, friendly, and caring.

It made him seem like Danny.

The past few days, after unexpectedly running into him in Verde Que te Quiero Verde, her mind always went back to him. A nice, warm feeling would bubble deep within her whenever she thought of his unruly, black hair, or his deep, baby blue eyes, or just his general kindness and alertness to the way other people feel… Sam would feel her face heat up whenever she remembered she still had his hoodie; or when she’d admit to herself that she didn’t know if she could ever give it back.

As nice as the feeling was, it certainly didn’t help when it clouded her judgement when she was carrying out her duties. Such as that very moment.

What was she thinking, comparing Danny Phantom to Danny Fenton?! They couldn’t be more different! Danny’s voice was rich and soothing, while Phantom’s had a certain echo that reminded everyone of his current state of being. Danny had absolutely no interest in following in his parents’ footsteps; he dreamed of being an astronaut and the Fentons had often neglected him and his sister in favour of ghost-hunting. Phantom was both a ghost hunter himself and the very ghost Danny’s parents were after!

And most importantly, Sam could actually put up with Danny’s presence, whereas she’d more than once wondered if spirits could be strangled.

While she appreciated the Ghost King’s bout of friendliness, she’d have to remind herself that he and Danny were two entirely different people. But for now, it wouldn’t hurt to show some gratitude in return. “Thank you for listening and respecting my request, Phantom.” She smiled back.

The king shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “It’s the least I could do. Hey, if you have any questions of your own, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll see what I can do.”

Sam was about to thank him for his offer but decline anyway when she changed her mind, an idea materialising in her head. Using her two hands for support to get up from her chair, she walked around the wooden table between them and towards her host. She didn’t stop until she was almost within touching distance.

Propping herself up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, in the most relaxed position Danny had seen her, she spoke. “If I ask a favour of you, will you grant it?”

“Depending on what you ask.” He replied truthfully.

She guessed that was fair enough. Unfolding her arms, she used one hand to point at him. “Please, refrain yourself from wearing...” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing to the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire, “that during our meetings.”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The only reason he wore the dreaded things in the first place was to keep her and her guards in line. If it meant not being vulnerable around them, he was willing to endure their torment. “You see, I wear these to show my very special guests just how seriously I take their visit,” Danny started, his voice dripping in sarcasm, before turning more serious with a menacing glare, his eyes glowing bright. “How do I know you won’t double-cross me the moment I take them off?”

Sam didn’t like the way this conversation suddenly turned from civil, to accusing. Again. “How do I know you won’t use them to double-cross me?”

“I believe I asked you first.”

Growing irritated, Sam clutched at her skin. “Simple; I’m not the one wearing that.”

There was a reason purple-eyed witches such as herself or Grandma Ida were so respected in their society; only they could resist the darkness their people so feared. And the dark forces radiating from the Ghost King’s crown and ring? They were vile. The age of eternal blackness, pain, and suffering they promised were enough to make her hairs stand on end. Therefore, seeing Phantom wield them so nonchalantly was a clear indicator that he was not to be trifled with.

Not uttering a word, Phantom got up from his chair and made his way to her. Sam had to fight the urge to flinch away from him in fright when he stood, imposing, in front of her. “Funny.” He said with a hint of sick amusement in his voice. “It was a gift from your kind.”

Sam could only gasp at his words, a hand to her chest and her feet unconsciously taking a few steps back. However, before she could fully register his words and react accordingly, the ground at her feet started moving, unprompted. Her body involuntarily swaying from the sudden tremors, she tried to keep her balance by hopelessly flailing her arms, in search of support.

But her efforts proved themselves fruitless when another, stronger, jolt tossed her down to the ground with a low thud. The only reason she even registered she’d fallen was the sudden change in perspective; Phantom, who, seemingly on instinct, had risen up in the air the moment the room shook, went from being in front of her to horizontal.

“What’s going on?” She choked out, too disoriented to even stand.

Noticing the turmoil in her voice, their previous conversation forgotten in favour of the current events, Danny was by her side in an instant, gently helping her up. This could only mean one thing. “Uh, no…”

“‘Uh, no?’” Lady Arcana asked, holding onto his arm for dear life. “‘Uh, no’ what?”

Before Danny could so much as offer an answer a distinct cry in a language he didn’t understand could be heard from the other side of the door. In the blink of an eye, a gust of bright yellow wind came crashing through the door, reducing it to smithereens. What was truly unbelievable, however, was the way the wind seemed to have solidified with the intention of bursting the doors open.

Fast as lightning, Lady Arcana’s trusty companions rushed into the room, looking for their queen. The teenagerーSusan, Danny believedーwasted no time checking over her leader. “Your Majesty, are you okay?!” As she asked, her bespectacled partner slid beside their queen, offering her to lean into her for support. “We were guarding the doors when suddenly the lair started trembling!”

“I’m fine, Susan. Stand down.” She reassured her. “Are you guys alright?”

“Affirmative, your Majesty.” The strawberry blonde one answered, adjusting her glasses with her free hand, the other still holding Lady Arcana by her waist. “But I believe we should leave immediately, whatever it is that’s going on, it’s not safe!”

“What is going on, anyway?” Susan hissed, clearly suspecting of the ghosts’ ulterior motives.

To Sam’s surprise, Phantom actually looked sheepish. He was fidgeting with his gloved fingers with an awkward smile on his face. “This may or may not be my fault…”

The dark-haired queen was in no mood for half-assed answers like that. “Explain.” She gritted out.

“I seem to have forgotten to take care of the latest black hole forming before it reached its mature state.” He admitted.

There was a moment of silence where one could've heard a pin drop, until Sam screeched at the top of her lungs, “You what?! How do you forget to take care of a fucking black hole!?”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” He tried to joke, but the scorching glare he received from her in return made him gulp. “I know, I know. I really meant to take care of everything sooner, but things kept popping up and getting in the way. But don’t worry, I’ll fix this.”

“How?” Susan asked, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes glaring daggers at him.

“That...I don’t know.” He admitted, looking positively sick to his stomach. “I’ve never had to take care of a black hole in this state. But don’t worry, you three can go back home. I’ll manage; I always do.”

An impending sense of doom made Sam’s stomach churn. She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling Phantom wouldn’t make it if he tried to take care of the problem by himself.

And so, with a heavy heart, she turned to her witches, getting out of Stephanie’s well-meaning but suffocating grasp. “You two go back home, I’ll stay here and help him.”

“What?!” The two screamed in unison, and Sam could feel a bewildered Phantom looking at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind. She probably had.

Lo and behold, he was right there, agreeing with them. “‘What’ is right. You can’t stay here; your people need you!”

“King Phantom’s right, your Majesty.” Stephanie tried to reason. “What will become of the clan without you?”

“It’ll be madness!” Susan squeaked, looking scared for once in her life. “If anything, we should stay to ensure your safety!”

Touched beyond belief by their loyalty and devotion, Sam gently grasped their hands in hers. She tried to convey as much calmness as possible through her smile. “One way or another, the clan will find a way to revive from its ashes, even without me. That’s the way it’s always been. But I can’t live with myself knowing I stole two children from their families, and so, I must let you go.”

“B-but...your Majesty!” Susan whimpered, tears in her eyes.

Before she’d have a change of heart, the queen turned to the older witch. “Stephanie, you’re the better spellcaster. Take Susan with you and back to the clan.” Then she turned around and picked the grimoire up in her hands before passing it to her. “And take this with you. We can’t afford anything happening to it.”

“But what about you?!”

“I will do everything in my power to return to you.” She swore solemnly.

With a sad nod, Stephanie let go of her queen’s hand and took the younger sorceress with her. With a finger high in the sky, she cried out, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt!”

In a flash of forest green light, they were gone.

Now that they were alone (for Walker’s goons had returned to their boss the moment the shaking began), Danny turned to the Witch Queen. “What’s your angle?”

“I want to help you.” She said, never taking her eyes off of his.

“But what about your people?” He pressed. “Isn’t protecting them your top priority?”

“If what little I know of black holes and your world doesn’t fail me, letting one loose would mean the end of everything we know and love. So I am protecting my people.”

He couldn’t argue against that logic.

The moment was broken by the unanticipated feeling of being pulled towards an unknown direction. Noticing Lady Arcana staggering clumsily on her feet, Danny rushed to grab her by the shoulders in an attempt to steady her. Immediately, her own hands were grabbing firmly onto his.

As stable as his lair was, staying inside during a black hole would be dangerous and extremely foolish. Unfortunately, there was no time to explain. “My Lady, what I’m about to do might seem a bit crazy, but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

“What are youー?”

“Can you trust me?” He insisted, his bright, green eyes begging.

Under any other circumstances her answer would’ve been a definite ‘no.’ Phantom was a ghost and she was a witch. Her people had been foolish enough to trust them once and it cost them dearly. But at that moment, right then and there, against her better judgement, she did. When he looked at her like his life depended on her, she couldn’t deny him anything. Somehow, that terrified her more than the black hole.

“I do.” She breathed. “I trust you.”

One moment, he smiled at her so brightly Sam feared he might blind her. And on the other, he pushed her away from him, shoving her roughly to the stone wall. Fearing the worst, Sam braced herself for an impact that never came. Instead all she could feel was a tingling sensation coursing through her body before she landed on the dirt with a loud thud, but not hard enough to really hurt her.

When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to see she was outside of the lair’s confines, completely unscathed. How did she…? Her thoughts were put to a halt when she caught something from the corner of her eye that made her blood run cold, as well as her mouth drop in astonishment.

In front of her, in the middle of the infinite ectoplasmic ocean of the Ghost Zone, stood a ginormous swirl of never-ending blackness, engulfing everything within range. As she stood there, agape, the celestial body’s natural pull began to draw her in. Burying her heels in the ground, desperately clutching at the building’s walls for support, she suddenly felt a hand around her wrist, yanking at her in the opposite direction.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Phantom’s staring right back. “Don’t let go!” He instructed with a strained voice. He was using every bit of strength he had to fly them both in the opposite direction.

“How do we stop this?!” She cried out, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m not sure!” He called back, his own hold on her never loosening. “As I said, I’ve never had to take care of a black hole under these conditions! The universe wouldn’t happen to have a code word for stopping this sort of thing, would it?”

She could only shake her head. “If it does, I don’t know what it is!” Oh, that was just great. The one time she needed her magic the most, and not only didn’t she have the answers, but she didn’t even know enough on the subject to find a mundane solution to it. If only Danny were there, he’d know what to do. “Ugh, why didn’t I pay more attention when we talked about Astrophysics!?”

At her words, a lightbulb lit up in Danny’s head. Astrophysics, duh! How could he have been so dense to forget his own area of expertise! All he needed to do was find a way to apply what he knew into a situation with a considerably smaller amount of money involved. To be more specific, he had about $3,75 in his pocket. As he struggled to keep both Lady Arcana and him safe, he kept looking at the black hole, studying its form and comparing it to every single piece of information he knew on them.

It wasn’t until he focused on his movements that it hit him. “I have an idea, but it might sound a little crazy.”

“Would you look at that? It goes with the entire situation we found ourselves in!” The sorceress chided with fake cheer.

“You can roast me with your sarcasm as much as you want later, but now I need you to listen to me.” He took her silence as a sign to continue. “I know what I have to do; I have to fly straight towards the black hole, but since I know it’s risky, I need you to run as far away as possible. Maybe even teleport yourself like your friends.”

“Are you crazy?!”

He shrugged it off. “A little. Please, it’s our only chance.”

Every second Lady Arcana didn’t answer his heart did somersaults in his chest. If it weren’t for his hands being a bit tied up at the moment, he would’ve started biting on his nails anxiously. After what felt like hours, she nodded. “Okay, but on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“Put us down somewhere remotely safe and I’ll tell you.”

In a quick succession of movements, he went from holding her wrist to holding her bridal style, his mind too preoccupied in finding somewhere safe to notice the way her cheeks reddened at the sudden intimacy. When he put her down on the floor he could only gape as she rolled her skirt and tied it up so it now reached her knees rather than the floor. But what truly caught his eye was what she was wearing on her feet.

“You wear combat boots under your skirt?”

At that, she put on a blank face. Now it was not the time for stupid questions! “Have you ever run in high heels?”

Admittedly, he had not.

“Thought so.” She hummed. “Besides, if you want me to run away from here, this gives me a greater chance at getting away. More mobility and all that.”

“Fine, I get it. So, what’s your condition?”

She looked at him. Her initial plan was to ask him to remove the crown and ring during any subsequent meetings, but now that he was staring intently at her, waiting for her answer with bated breath right as he was about to do the unthinkable, she found she couldn’t ask such a thing. Swallowing loudly, she got close to him; closer than she’d ever been. As soon as they were close enough their bodies almost touched, so close she could make out the green blush adorning his features, she placed her hands on his chest and slid them up slowly.

Unbeknownst to her, to Danny it was maddeningly so. He could already hear his heart beating in his ears, her lavender eyes seemed to gaze deep into his soul, when he heard the distinct sound of something unclasping. Before he knew it, his cape had fallen to the ground. When he turned to look at her quizzically, she had an impish grin on her face. “In the words of the great Edna Mode, ‘no capes!’”

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, even if said antics made perfect sense when he was about to fly into a black hole. “Okay, okay. I get it. No capes.” He grew serious again, sending her a meaningful look. “But you’d better run away, you hear me?”

“I will.”

With that they both turned their backs on each other, about to run off in different directions when Sam had the sudden urge to call out to him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Phantom?” He raised a questioning brow. “Please, be careful.”

Her request rendering him speechless, Danny limited himself to nodding before he took off in the direction of the massive swirl of energy.

Ghostly black holes were formed when two ancient lairs came into contact with each other, resulting in enormous amounts of uncontrollable ecto-energy. The usual protocol was to evacuate the areas near the decaying lairs and destroy at least one of them before disaster happened.

That was what he meant to do the other day before his encounter with Valerie forced him to spend the remainder of the day resting before going out with Jazz. By the time he felt better, he’d already forgotten all about it. Which meant he now needed to take desperate measures.

A black hole’s traction power didn’t come from its Singularity, but from its Event Horizon. In other words, it came from the swirling mass of matter surrounding it. Considering this was a rotating black hole, the Penrose Process was his safest bet. He turned himself intangible, in hopes of not being pulled into due to his lack of body mass, and flew straight to the celestial body’s Ergosphere; a region of rotating space-time around the hole.

Once inside, Danny didn’t waste a second to rev up until he’d reached his top speed, which he could only hope was enough, as he began moving counterclockwiseーthe opposite direction the black hole was rotating in.

After what felt like hours, Danny could feel his face light up in triumph when he registered the way the hole seemed to come to a halt. That was all he needed. With renewed vigour, the halfa pushed himself a little further, breaking his personal record, and forced the massive source of matter to follow his course. Only this time, rather than increase in size, it shrank ever so slowly.

Unfortunately, Danny was so caught up in the process he failed to see the side effect his plan was having on the black hole. With one last display of strength, it began to pull once more, except now the halfa had no place to go. Panicking, but knowing he couldn’t get away or all his efforts would be for naught, Danny resigned himself to his fate.

“Conjunctionis ligaveris!”

“Huh?” His brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden cry, his eyes soon widened in disbelief when he felt something wrap around his ankles and tug at him and away from the black hole.

Glancing down at his feet, he noticed the sparkly, purple, rope-like construction tied tightly around him. Trailing the rope to its origins, he gasped when he saw it was Lady Arcana who was holding onto it for dear life.

Did she just save him?

Finally, due to Danny’s ministrations, the colossal swirling void of darkness began to curl in on itself. Then, with a deafening sound, the black hole imploded in a burst of blinding light, forcing Danny to cover his tortured ears, and Sam to shield her violet eyes. Both of them holding tight with the remnants of strength they had left onto the witch’s improvised rope.

After what felt like hours, her ears still ringing, the queen lowered her arm from her face. She blinked repeatedly, willing the dark spots filling her vision to vanish. With her vision cleared, she gasped, frantically looking around in search of Phantom.

A voice behind her made her jump forward a few steps. “How did you do that?”

Whirling around, she couldn’t help but let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she saw the Ghost King looking at her. Although he looked far more surprised than she expected. “Do what?”

“You…”, he started. It just didn’t make any sense! “You grabbed me!”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “...yeah, so?”

“You grabbed me and I was intangible!” He threw his arms up in the air, his mind still coming to terms with what'd just happened.

Realisation finally dawned on Sam. “Oh, you’re right. By definition, I shouldn’t have been able to touch you…” She trailed off.

“Well,” he pressed, “how did you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged as she noticed the rope still tied to Phantom’s ankle, before willing it to disappear. “I just saw you in trouble and I knew I had to do something. I wasn’t really thinking when I did it, I just...did.”

She saw him mumble something unintelligible before his bright eyes lay on her, hard. She should’ve known this was coming, “Look, I know I said I’d run away. But, as I said, I saw you in trouble and I had to act! So there’s no need for you to lecture me about it. What’s done is done.”

“Actually,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t listen to me.”

Starting at his words, the two made eye contact. As she gazed, once again, upon his grateful eyes, his expression full of sincerity, she couldn’t keep her own smile from forming in her face. As they stood there, both royals could only think that, if they could work together to stop an infinite swirl of darkness, even trusting the other with their lives, then they should be able to work together to put an end to the crisis threatening their worlds.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #ember mclain #johnny/kitty #johnny 13 #kitty #oc #amethyst ocean #danny x sam #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen! sam #witch queen au #enemies to friends to lovers

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

Face to Face- Chapter 31

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: 3,730

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Fenton and Phantom couldn’t see through their tears, the water streaming down their faces obscuring their vision of the world around them. All shades of green, splashes of purple and drab brown rushed past as they flew. Their thoughts screamed with a haunting echo, coming back twice.

Mom….she wasn’t...she’s not sorry. She can’t...can’t accept Phantom. She doesn’t love me. But…. A sniffle broke through two throats, separated by dimensions yet somehow closer that ever. I can’t just pretend to be human for her. I can’t just be Fenton! Like the portal didn't... Like nothing happened...I can’t...I’m not the same!

Their bodies moved without conscious effort, the need to escape so large. Why did he do this? Why did he always run away?

Two voices that were one muttered. “This was….this was supposed to fix things. But...I messed it up!”

He kept running, kept flying. They didn’t know where they were going, just away. Away from all the things that kept hurting him.

Somewhere, far away voices were calling his name. “Danny!”

“Everything’s messed up! Why can’t anything ever go right for me?!” Hands gripped hair that was black. Or was is white? No, it was both but-

“Danny! What’s happening?” Someone called.

“Talking to Mom was supposed to fix things!” He cried.

“Danny! You’ve gotta look at us, man!”

A whine exited two throats. “But she’s never gonna accept me.”

“Danny! Fenton! Listen to us.” Fenton? Who was-

Hands appeared on their shoulders. No, on just one set of their shoulders but which-

“Fenton, you need to come back to us.”

Come back to… “Sam? Tucker?” He recognized the voices.

“Yeah. It’s us, dude.” “Come back to us.”

Come back? He needed to come back to- He blinked. And something snapped. Like a rubber band stretched too far, two components snapped back into place.

“Sam. Tucker.” Fenton frowned, clarity entering his vision. Or more like….his vision shifted away from what he’d been seeing before, from the swirling green clouds, floating purple doors, and hunks of rock in the Ghost Zone. His eyes widened. The Ghost Zone?! He was-

“Yeah man.” Tucker squeezed his shoulder. “Are you with us now?”

Numbly, Fenton nodded. “Yeah. I’m here.” His mouth felt dry.

“What happened?” Sam asked softly.

The boy swallowed. “I-”

Fenton! Something in him cried. Fear lashed out, threatening to pull him back inside himself. Where...where are you? Where am I? What’s happening?

“Phantom!” The human called, vision again starting to blur.

Hands gripped him more tightly. “Don’t you dare leave us again.”

“Sam. Tucker. No I’m…” He sucked in a breath. “Phantom. I’m still here. It’s-” Fenton felt pulled in two directions. He needed to be here, with his friends. He needed to tell them what was happening. But.... No, he needed to be with Phantom. He-

Cold crashed into him, stealing his breath. “Sam? Tucker?” Why did he sound surprised, like he was just now recognizing? Again, his...their lines blurred but in the wrong way.

“Focus!” Sam shook him. “Fenton! We need you to-”

“Why are you calling me Fenton?” Phantom asked through him...No Fenton asked...No…

Gasping, the human body pulling out of Sam’s grip. He leaned over, suddenly nauseous. “Why can’t I just be one person?!”

“Danny!” His friend grabbed his jumpsuit free arms again. “Whichever Danny you are, you need to tell us what’s happening.”

Another deep breath. Human eyes closed and the ghostly vision of the Zone opened up. Both heads shook. They needed to focus on Sam and Tucker but...being exposed in the Zone with their eyes closed would be bad. No, push the vision away, like it’s just an imagined day dream.

“My human body’s here in the real world with you and Tucker.”

Tucker and Sam frowned, but neither commented on the oddity at the beginning of the statement. Instead, the technogeek asked. “And the other you?”

“I’m….He’s….We’re….we’re in the ghost zone.”

“The ghost zone!” Sam exclaimed.

A nod. “Phantom tried to talk to Mom. It...uhh...it didn’t go well. So we ran off.”

Tucker blinked. “You ran off...to another dimension?”

“We panicked, okay! The portal...it was right there. And there was yelling and...I wasn’t thinking! Talking to Mom was supposed to help but... but now we’re lost somewhere in the freaking land of the dead!” The panic that their friends had managed to briefly calm flared, their breathing increasing into a pant. “I mean….we’d wanted to see the Ghost Zone, but not like this! And now Mom’s probably mad at us and I don’t know where I am!” Again, hands gripped black and white hair.

“Hey, it’s okay. Calm down.” Sam pleaded.

“Okay! Okay! I’m lost. I’m-”

“Danny.” Tucker interrupted. “Just take a breath, okay? See if you can figure out which direction you came from.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed. “Try to go back the way you came. You couldn’t have flown that far.”

Another breath. “Yeah. Okay.” Both heads turned side to side, looking around. The human body stepped away from their friends, turning in a circle like someone looking for a recognizable landmark. “There? No…” He growled in annoyance. “Everything’s moving too fast.” They turned back towards Sam and Tucker, in the real world. Their breath puffed in front of them. Then blue and green eyes suddenly widened in panic as they flinched back. “Shit!”

Several things happened in quick succession. Their human vision blacked out as a rock the size of a minivan hurdled towards their ghost form. The ghost dodged, rapidly ascending. The human tried to copy the action, but being unable to fly, jumped up and then fell to the ground.

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker’s voices again came from far away, the sound traveling through their perception, along with the shock from hitting the ground.

But the feeling passed in a moment as more rocks flew towards them. They dodged and weaved, yelping as a small boulder clipped the edge of their tail. Where were these rocks coming from?!

Below, something growled. They looked down, eyes falling on a large, muscular figure with one eye in the center of its face. Another ghost! That must have been what set off their ghost sense. It roared, yelling something about staying away from its island. They didn’t need to be told twice.

Their ghostly form darted away in a blur, just thinking of escaping the attack. After no more than a minute, they slowed, eyes searching for a place to stop. There! A small, bare island, no more than a quarter of a football field. Near the center was a large boulder, leaning towards the side and forming a small sheltered space. They landed, praying it was empty. Whole body shaking with fear, they sunk to the ground, curling up inside the cave and pulling their lower half, which was still in the serpentine form of a ghostly tail to their chest. Their chest heaved with shaking breath as the tears renewed.

It wasn’t fair. They were lost and scared and tired. Some ghost just attacked them again and they were stranded on some random rock in the Ghost Zone. They shivered; everything around them was so cold but they were somehow too hot. Everything ached and they were starving because they were missing lunch and their knees hurt from when they fell. And...Wait-

A white haired head whipped up, nose wrinkling in confusion as the slight of their tail. They didn’t have knees right now, did they? But…..

Their stomach flopped with sudden nausea. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. Newly recognized sensations spark in their perception: the distant sound of Sam and Tucker’s voices, grass under a head, the throb of sore knees.

In the Zone, the ghost leaned forward, feeling sick. Something was wrong. It hurt. Everything hurt so much. Their skin was too tight; the core pulsed too slow and the heart beat too fast.

“Fenton? Phantom? Danny?” They asked, out into the now silent alien environment. Which one...which ones were they? Who were….who was he? He was...they were both or…. all three? Or something in the middle? Ghost or human? One person or two fragments? To his supreme distress, they couldn’t tell, mind overcome with confusion.

Danny, or someone who was almost Danny, pinched his eyes closed. This was...this wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He felt...he felt like a half reassembled puzzle, one that had been rapidly put together by randomly pushing the pieces together. Instead of the pieces interlocking and forming a complete picture, they were mismatched, the picture fuzzy, off, and disjointed. He...they hadn’t put themselves...himself back together correctly.

He sucked in a breath. He...they couldn’t do this, couldn’t be this right now. They...he needed Fenton and Phantom, needed to be Phantom and Fenton, but not at the same time. Not yet. They would...he would be back to himself soon but first….before the complete picture could be reformed, they needed to pull apart the mismatched puzzle pieces.

His humanity, the part of himself, themselves, that called himself Fenton pulled away. Tangled threads unraveled, the pain easing. Ghost and human separated, divided but still tethered together, even across dimensions.

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

Fenton slowly came back to awareness, his consciousness returning to his body. Voices buzzed above him.

“Should we get Jazz? Or call his parents?”

“We can’t do that, Tucker! Didn’t you hear? He had a fight with his Mom.”

“Well, we can’t just take him to the nurse, Sam!”

Sam? Tucker? They were fighting, but what about?

“I know that but-”

“You saw what happened! His eyes started glowing and he started muttering to himself and running away from us. We almost got him calm! Then he freaked out and passed out!”

Oh yeah, that. His eyes blinked open, squinting in the sunlight. He groaned.

That got Sam and Tucker’s attention. “Danny!” Both cried as they knelt down beside him.

“Are you back with us?” Sam asked, brow furrowed with concern.

Fenton nodded, sluggishly. “Yeah, I’m back.” His hands clenched and unclenched, grabbing fists full of grass. So he was on the ground. He glanced towards his feet, eyeing the grass stains on his jeans and his aching knees.

Tucker offered his hand. “Here, let me help you up.” The other boy accepted, half pulling, half pushing himself back into a sitting position. “So...which one are you?”

Blinking in confusion, Fenton turned his head to find his friends looking at him warily. After a moment, his mind caught up with the question. “I’m Fenton….just Fenton.” He frowned, rubbing his eyes. He pulled his hands away, eyeing the moisture on his fingers. Huh...so he had been crying.

“What was that?” Sam’s quiet question drew him out of his thoughts.

The human frowned, biting his lip. “I’m not… I’m not really sure.” He looked down at his hands. “It kinda felt like...we almost fused. But...it wasn’t right. We were confused and…” His voice quieted. “It hurt.”

The boy then glanced up, taking in his friends’ stricken looks. “Dude...are you okay?” Tucker asked, with wide, compassionate eyes.

Fenton shrugged. “Yeah...I think it was the whole two body thing but we’re sorted now.”

His friends traded concerned, skeptical looks and Sam’s eyebrow rose. The human Danny had no doubt; she wanted to press him right now for more explanation, to make sure he actually was okay. And the boy was grateful for her concern. In all honesty, he wasn’t okay. Between the horrible conversation with Mom, being lost in another dimension, and the confusing partial fusion, he was stressed and tired, to say the least. But they had bigger things to solve than his current emotional state.

Sam clearly recognized the same. “Okay.” She sighed, continuing with the conversation. “What was with you eating the dirt?”

The human boy looked down, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “I..uh...forgot that I can’t fly as a human.” His friends both blinked bewilderedly. Then Tucker laughed and Sam snorted. Fenton’s blush intensified. “We were trying to dodge. Some ghost threw this huge rock at us so ghost me flew up to miss it. This me tried to copy but...” He motioned down his body. “This body can’t fly.”

With that, his friends’ more jovial expressions turned more serious. “I guess that makes sense.” Tucker finally said.

Then Sam nodded. “And Phantom, your ghost half? Where is he?”

Fenton’s frown deepened, his shoulders hanching as he pulled his knees to his chest. “Still in the Zone. We found an island to hang tight on. He should be safe... for now.”

There was a long pause as his friends looked at each other, a silent, worried conversation passing between them. Then Sam’s eyes focused back on Fenton’s face. “Can we talk to Phantom?”

The human blinked. “Why?”

Tucker’s lip turned down in a deepening frown. “We need to figure out how to get the other you home. So...can you let us talk to him?”

“Oh.” Fenton looked down, biting his lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” His voice quieted. “I don’t wanna get lost again.”

Sam’s expressions softened. “Okay.” To the human boy’s surprise and relief, she conceded, like she just might understand.

“Can he hear us, at least?” Tucker offered tentatively. “You don’t have to respond, just listen.”

“I don’t know-” Fenton started, equally tentatively, before his reply was interrupted by words in his head.

Fenton? Phantom asked softly.

The human furrowed his brow, eyes losing focus. Yeah? I’m here.

I can hear Sam and Tucker. He said, slightly nervously. I’ve been watching this whole time.

Fenton blinked in confusion. “You have?”

“Danny!” “Not again!” Again, Sam and Tucker’s hands were on his shoulders, eyes wide with concern.

The human boy shook his head. “Sorry. I’m fine. I was just talking to Phantom. Apparently he can hear you. So just...talk to me.”

His friends traded somewhat confused, somewhat exacerbated looks before pressing on. “Okay.” Tucker took a breath. “You need to try and find the portal.”

Fenton started shaking his head but Sam continued. “Just to retrace your steps, okay? Go back the way you came.” She squeezed his arms. “You can do this. You can. I believe in you, Danny Phantom.”

In the back of his mind, Fenton could feel his ghost self’s appreciation of the statement. The corner of his lips turned up in a slight smile. Then his mouth moved of its own volition, his voice echoing. “It’s really nice to hear that Sam but-”

“Dude, your eyes are glowing again.” Tucker cut in, brow furrowing with worry.

They were? His brow furrowed in thought, focusing on the cool burning feeling in his eyes. “Ah that makes sense.” Again, the words came out without his input or rather… “It’s me, Phantom.” With a slight push from his ghost, Fenton held up his hands. “It’s okay, guys. Fenton’s just letting me use his mouth.”

Sam raised a brow. “Because apparently you can do that?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But anyway...I’m really happy you believe in me guys but...I have no idea where I am. We weren’t really paying attention after we...uh….ran off. And then that ghost was chucking rocks at us and we got turned around flying away.”

“There’s gotta be landmarks or something. Can you just figure out the direction you came from at least?” Tucker asked.

Under Phantom’s direction, Fenton shook his head. “Maybe?” He pursed his lips. “I really don’t want to just go flying off in one direction and just end up farther from the portal.”

The technogeek sighed. “Maybe we should get your parents? They might have some way to help you.”

In the Ghost Zone, Phantom sat, considering the idea. Fenton could distantly feel the ghost thinking, his own thoughts likely following the same pattern. As much as he didn’t want to get his parents’ help, that might be the best option. They could have Phantom sit tight where he was and get Mom and Dad’s assistance to find him. The human Danny then flinched, feeling his ghost self’s anxiety at the thought. Wait….feeling?

The idea hit him like a brick wall. “You don’t have to find the portal. You can find me.” The human Danny said, feeling the glow of his eyes dim. Across their connection, Fenton felt Phantom’s confusion. “Phantom, we’re still connected. There’s like...a line. A tether between us.” He motioned vaguely with his hands.

Understanding dawned as blue eyes again flashed green. “I can follow it back to you!” In the human world, Fenton’s voice echoed, his mouth stretching up into a smile. “That just might work.”

“It will.” The human reassured, mentally poking at the link. He could almost see it in his mind’s eyes, a metaphysical cord connecting the two parts of his mind. A cord he’d felt drawing him and his ghost self together, somehow pulling taut as the two moved closer, more in sync.

“Yeah. I’ll see you really soon.” Phantom replied.

Fenton grinned, his arms wrapping themselves around his chest. He looked down at himself. “Phantom? Are you trying to hug me?”

A blush rose on his face. “Yes.” His arms fell to his sides. “It’s weird talking to you like this.”

“You’re telling me.” The human said, slightly teasingly. “But seriously...you’ve got this.”

“Tucker and I agree.” Sam cut in. Her gaze, level with Fenton’s eyes, drew the boys’ attention. “You’ve got this.” She playfully punched Fenton’s arm. “Hurry up and get back to the land of the living.”

“Yeah man. I wanna see your ghostly self, in person.” The technogeek leaned forward to hug the boy in front of him. “Be careful, Danny.”

Fenton and Phantom both agreed to return the hug. “I will.” The ghost replied. “Thanks for calming me down guys...and just being here. I don’t know where we’d be if you guys hadn’t been with Fenton.”

“Of course.” Sam reassured. “We’re your friends, no matter what weird stuff you’re doing.”

For once, Fenton, nor his ghost half, shied away from word. They were weird. This situation was weird but they had friends who could roll with the punches.

“I’ll see you guys soon.” Phantom finally said, as Fenton pulled out of the hug. “I’ll let you guys go back to your lunch; I know Fenton’s hungry.”

As soon as he said that, the human’s stomach growled. An echoing laugh exited Fenton’s mouth, followed by chuckles from Sam and Tucker. The human shook his head, at his friends’ and his other self’s reactions.

His laughter stopped after a moment as Phantom’s directed his arm to wave. “Bye guys.”

With that, the ghostly light blinked out of his eyes, signaling Phantom’s retreat. Fenton also felt it, the ghost gently closing a mental door and leaving the human solidly alone in his body.

“Fenton?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Phantom went off to try and find his way back.”

“Man.” Tucker shook his head. “So that’s what your internal dialogue sounds like.”

“Kinda.” The human boy shrugged. “Sorry, that was….it’s never been that...involved, me and Phantom interacting when we’re physically apart…. Being split’s done weird things to my mind.”

His friends of course looked at him with concern at the statement, but there was understanding and acceptance too. “I guess that would make sense.” Sam said.

“Like Sam and I said before, we’re here if you ever want to talk about any of that.” Tucker offered.

Fenton’s lip turned slightly up at the statement, bolstered by the promise of his friends’ support. “Maybe later. Right now I want some food.”

The technogeek laughed. “All right man.” He standed from his kneeling position before offering Fenton a hand up. “Let’s eat.”

The human boy accepted the help, wincing slightly at his bruised knees; he’d need to look at them later but it didn’t feel like they were hurt badly. Sam also stood and the three walked back to the secluded picnic table where they’d been eating lunch before Phantom’s argument with their mother drew him away. So it had turned out that eating outside, away from their classmates and teachers had been beneficial. And speaking of his mom….

His heart did clinch painfully at the memory of her words. He passively wondered; what was she doing right now? What was her reaction to what he said, to him running off? Everything had happened so fast and...briefly, a look of shock had flashed on her face, something that might even have been guilt. He hoped it was but...he could’t worry about that right now. His most important concern was getting his other half back from the ghost zone. After, they could deal with the situation together, like they should have from the beginning.

“Danny.” Sam said his name, capturing the boys’ attention. “Aren’t you going to eat? We’ve only got five minutes left.”

Fenton frowned. “Yeah. Right.” He stuffed a bit of his sandwich in his mouth. He’d worry about that later. For now, he’d eat his lunch, go to study hall, and hope- no trust- he’d trust that Phantom would get back safely.

Note: So this chapter was a little shorter what's typical for me. I ended up splitting it off from the next scene because that was over 6000 words alone and I thought the whole thing would be too long. But the good news is, that means the next chapter is done. I just have to find time to edit it with my beta. And I'm working on what will be chapter 33 now.

This also means this story won't be on hiatus as long. I'm planning on writing at least one story for the Phic Phight and a longer story Inviobang. I may do something for DannyMay was well? I really want to write another part for "It was an Accident, I swear" and the last story in my "Life and Death is all Perspective" series. But IDK. That depends on how fast I finish the other stuff and/or how much self control I have. Well al have to see what happens. Anyway, feel free to leave a comment as always and thank you so much for reading!

#Danny Phantom #Face To Face #Ghost Catcher #double danny #split danny #My fic

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