#phic stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cae-ruleam · 4 months

Text

time's a ticking

rated G - basically a character study of immortal Danny word count: 4405 AO3 link

Danny's seen many loved ones come and go, and he has almost been beaten down countless times. But life goes on, and through the years, Danny's learned to live with that by making new memories to remember, and rekindling old ones.

“Mr. Leverton, it’s already past seven! I’ll be heading out in a moment, you can close up shop soon,” Danny heard a young voice call from the second floor of an old mechanics shop. He took off his gloves and wiped his forehead before mumbling, “Is it really that late already?” to himself. But it seemed that his apprentice still heard him once he started strolling down the wooden stairs.

“Yes, really! Now, please don’t continue working on that and just go home to rest, will ya?” Sawyer chastised the older man with slight exasperation; knowing that if he did not hound Danny, the man may stay holed up here all night and not even realize it until Sawyer returned the next morning.

It’s happened before. Several times too many, in fact. Danny chuckled, “Who’s in charge of who here?” he joked with a roll of his eyes. But he still did as told and started to put all his tools in their right places.

“Har har, you know you’ll get too invested otherwise if you weren’t already, Mr. Leverton,” the young man reiterated once more. He then went and shrugged on his winter coat before saying goodbye and walking out of the shop with a skip. Danny waved at him as he did so, of course.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Mr. ‘Leverton’ said as he pushed himself up from his stool and cracked his neck.

It’s been a long time since Danny’s gone by the last name ‘Fenton’; it’s been roughly 170 years, in fact. After all, he didn’t have any family when he was a kid, besides his parents, sister, and aunt Alicia, of course. But Jazz and her wife never had any kids of their own, despite fostering many others. Aunt Alicia never remarried after her divorce, plenty satisfied to live her life ‘till the end on her own.

That left Danny, but given the … circumstances of his existence, he quickly shot down any idea of having kids, biological or adopted.

So the Fenton Family’s lineage ended with Jazz and him, some 350 years ago when Jazz passed. He’d faked his death for the public long before then. You could only claim you’re an exceptionally young-looking 40-year-old for so long, after all.

That was until he decided to bring it back briefly, about 200 years ago, for another run and go. He didn’t like the idea of disconnecting himself from his first identity forever, entirely. Even if he had to use a different first name that time.

The second name he’d decided to use was Nightingale. In a hilarious turn of fate, during that 30-year period, there seemed to have been a resurgence in interest in witchcraft.

A lot has changed in the over 400-year period he’s wandered the Earth, yet, not so much has changed at all. And that was why Danny nowadays preferred to keep himself under the radar, and people at an arm’s length.

While he technically retired himself from the superhero business several centuries ago, what, with the amount of his rogues mellowing out and there being less need for Phantom to be able to show up at any moment; he would still help out whenever necessary. Such as, when there were catastrophes from space threatening the entire globe and its attached afterlife, something he’d done before but no one remembers nowadays. Or, when the wrong people got a hold of the rapidly developed technology and weapons of warfare, ones so strong and destructive the humans themselves do not even have any preventive measures for. But that was neither here nor there.

He preferred it this way. He was getting old – albeit not physically, he definitely was mentally – and he’d never been too fond of being part of the superhero business in general. He was merely thrust into it at a ripe fourteen years of age due to a stupid mistake stupid kids made. He was thankful he could mostly part ways with that life, nowadays. Jazz also said that it had made him happier.

“Speaking of…” it’s been a while since he’s visited his sister. The only one from his immediate circle that became a ghost. His parents likely would’ve rather been burned to death than become ghosts in the afterlife, and Sam and Tucker … Danny supposed they’d lived a fulfilling enough life to not return.

He was happy for them, for that fact; even if it had hurt at first when he realized. Even when it still hurt, over 300 years later to know they’d moved on from him. But perhaps love was never meant to be, for a being such as himself.

Jazz, on the other hand, said that she would never be able to leave her baby brother to fend for himself, especially if this baby brother was some immortal semi-godlike being who’s made more than a few bad decisions in his then-normal-lifespan. Danny had laughed at that proclamation at first. Until she really came back to haunt him forever in the afterlife that is.

Danny went ahead and locked up the door of his mechanics’ shop before heading up the stairs to the second floor, personal belongings in tow. He’d rather not open a portal and disappear through it, right in front of the large windows the first floor had.

The halfa took a gentle breath and dipped into a bit of concentration before tearing a hole through reality – its veil was rather thin, all things considered. After all these years and so much experience, creating portals was like child’s play to him – hell, even creating duplicates was.

He then let his familiar transformation wash over him before flying through the portal and closing it off again with a wave of his gloved hand once he was on the other side.

Danny found himself in a familiar area of the Ghost Zone – some small spectral village that was built roughly 700 years ago, if he remembered his history correctly. He shouldn’t let Clockwork know that he’s already forgotten the lessons he gave him; he’d be so disappointed.

Danny looked around in the air briefly before slowly floating down toward the paved roads, and just when he came to a halt, a few inches off the floor, a shrill voice caught his attention.

“Phantom!” it happily called out, loudly – and before Danny was able to turn around he was tackled into a hug by some familiar weight. Once his eyes landed on his assailant, everything made sense. “Hi there to you too, Brianne,” he greeted kindly. The ghost child giggled and kicked her feet before she looked up at him again. “Aunt Jazz has been worried sick!” she continued.

Danny’s eyes widened momentarily, and he quickly tried to hide his shock again. “And why would she be?” he asked as he patted the girl’s head, even though he had several guesses for why Jazz could be worried to the point others would know about it.

“She’s been muttering to herself about how it’s been too long since you visited…” Brianne answered with a scrunched expression, as if deep in thought and racking her brain to remember the details. “Also something about … afraid that frostbite would get to you? Or not get to you? I don’t know why she would be though! You have an ice core,” she continued on.

Danny chuckled and patted her head once more, “She’s probably worried that Mr. Frostbite, chief of the Far Frozen-” “Wouldn’t be able to find this reckless uncle of yours when he inevitably forgot his check-ups again,” Jazz added.

“Jazz!” Danny remarked surprised, but also excited, “Did you really have to put it like that?” he asked sheepishly.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, now would it? It’s a valid concern; you haven’t visited me in two years!” she chided her brother, her always younger baby brother – no matter how old or powerful he’s gotten.

Danny’s expression became slightly pained. He huffed and motioned his head to the side briefly as if to tell his sister, ‘Let’s continue this at your place,’ and it seemed that Jazz agreed. His sister looked down at the girl standing confused between the two of them and quietly told her something or another – Danny didn’t quite catch it – and she immediately went on her merry way.

Jazz started walking once Brianne had gone off, and Danny made it a point to close the distance he had with the ground and walk alongside her. Despite being able to fly, as the skill was part of any ghost’s basic repertoire, Jazz was one of the few ghostly inhabitants of the ‘Zone who had always preferred to feel her feet planted on the ground, even after death. He saw no need to mention it and was always happy to join her; gently grabbing her hand as he did so.

“I’m sorry that it’s been so long,” he started after a moment of not-so-uncomfortable quiet, “It’s just … After all these years-” “Time catches up to you, and you lose track of it instead,” Jazz finished his sentence for him once more. She exhaled, revealing no emotion with that action, not really. “I know, we’ve been through this plenty of times before, I got that by the time you turned 320 well enough,” she continued.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t still point it out. Who knows what would happen otherwise?” she added after a beat of silence. “What? You’re afraid I’ll forget to visit you for decades at a time, or something?” Danny asked with a chuckle, rhetorically, mostly.

Jazz halted in her steps, forcing Danny to a stop too, and making him turn to see her raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Heh, maybe you’re right,” he said with a sigh.

“You’re the one who said you lose track of time, after all. And I don’t think it’ll ever really get better,” she said, her tone devoid of judgment.

When they continued walking, but Danny didn’t respond for a few moments too long, Jazz spoke again. “You know I don’t blame you, right? It’s not unnatural – it’s just – I don’t want to lose you also,” she said quietly.

“You don’t have to! Isn’t that why you became a ghost in the first place? So we’d never lose each other,” Danny responded.

Jazz sighed and nodded. “Yes, but when you don’t contact me for so long, it’s … hard to not get scared. And before you say anything about me joining you – you know very well that I can’t sustain myself outside the Ghost Zone for long like you can, now that you move around the globe instead of staying put in Amity. Not that you should ever feel compelled to do that, of course.”

Once they’d arrived at Jazz’s doorstep, she removed her hand from Danny’s to find her keys and unlock the door, before opening it and letting Danny through. Doors in the ‘Zone were very much Ghost-proof, after all. But not so much human proof. Danny quickly dropped himself on the sofa with a satisfied “Humph”, making Jazz shake her head at him as she locked the door again.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, already making her way to the kitchen.

“Some ecto-jasmine will do,” Danny responded.

“Do I even want to know if that’s a poor attempt at a joke, or not?”

“Why not both? And hey! It is not poor,” a beat went by, “Okay, maybe it is.”

Danny sighed as he watched his sister work, shaking his head, “But no, you’re … right. I should probably be putting more effort into this … relationships thing. At least for others, even if not myself.”

“Oh?” Jazz responded curiously from the kitchen across.

Danny noted long ago how her home in the Ghost Zone – her Keep manifested from herself – resembled the different houses she’s lived in in her human life. That’s nothing strange, not at all. Many ghosts’ Keeps reflected parts of themselves, or their mortal lives. What was notable however was just how akin to the Fenton house in Amity Park Jazz’s was. Despite everything, it meant that her memories tied to it were comfortable and strong enough to manifest like this.

Contrary, Danny’s Keep – besides the one previously belonging to Pariah – was a weird amalgamation of their childhood home from before they moved to Amity, his many houses since then, and hell – it even saw a bit of Sam’s home! And it still changed to this day, as every new house he inhabited for a longer period of time would shift it again, even if it had been happening less frequently or substantially than before. One thing stayed consistent, however, and that was that there was a distinct lack of their home in Amity Park.

Jazz had mentioned before that it likely meant Danny had separated himself entirely from that aspect of his life, and that that was okay. That it was a form of healing as well.

But Danny couldn’t help but feel like it meant he was running away from it. His life and experiences there were what made him into the man he is today, after all. But that was neither here nor there.

Danny nodded, even though he knew Jazz wouldn’t be able to see it, and responded, “Yeah … for you. For Brianne,” a child taken too soon. A young ghost Danny found wandering around, lost in the Ghost Zone, shortly after her death. Now in the care of the community here, “And I’ve … taken on a human apprentice.” Danny finally bit the bullet and admitted it.

Danny then heard some ceramic shatter.

He jumped up from the couch alarmed, “Is everything alright?” he asked hastily.

Jazz sucked in a breath of air through gritted teeth before responding, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

She then grabbed a new cup, poured the tea in it, and returned with two of them in hand to the living room. As she set them down, she continued talking, “I was just caught off guard. I mean, you? Of all people taking in a human apprentice? When your only answer to me goading you into establishing more relationships with people again was ‘Nah.’ for the longest time? Sue me for not believing it immediately,” she said sarcastically.

“Very funny, Jazz. But I really can’t blame ya,” Danny responded, accepting defeat.

Jazz’s expression turned softer as she pinned her brother down and sighed, “Of course you can’t. Anyway, care to elaborate?” she asked as she raised her cup of tea to her mouth, taking a gentle sip of the hot beverage.

Danny closed his eyes and shook his head as he picked up his tea as well, responding, “It’s not like you’ll let me out of here until I do so,” he said. “You know me well, little brother,” she teased.

“What caused this change in heart?” Or resurfacing perhaps, that’d be a more accurate description.

Danny pouted in thought for a moment. “I just met this kid, Sawyer’s his name, a few months ago. He has a talent for engineering, but I found out soon after that his family probably wouldn’t be able to send him to college for that. Even after so long, the world hasn’t really become more fair. If it hasn’t gotten worse, that is,” he explained.

Jazz sighed, disappointed but not surprised, “That doesn’t shock me in the slightest. Anyway, so you thought you’d teach him the ropes?” The halfa nodded, “Basically; and maybe he’ll be able to get a scholarship after that, if he wants to, anyway.”

“You saw a part of yourself in him, didn’t you?” Jazz said, seemingly out of nowhere.

Danny huffed, just barely amused, “What made you think that?” he asked with suspicion.

“A young boy with uncultivated talents, really, Danny?” his sister asked in return, unimpressed.

Danny quieted at that. He’s been a lot quieter in general, especially compared to his youth, Jazz noted.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and not a secret for anyone, that Danny changed a lot when his loved ones started passing one by one, while he stayed young and living forever. Jazz wasn’t exempt from that either, as the only one who continued to stay by his side, even if that meant continuing without her wife and dear friends who happily moved on.

The two of them always knew it would come to this, and they’d both made peace with it now. But it didn’t take a genius to realize that Danny’s solution to not experiencing this heartbreak again, was to distance himself from humankind. He stayed close, residing more in the human realm than the ghostly one, but he detached himself from relationships just enough for them to not get too close. For him to not get hurt too bad once he’d inevitably see them for a last time.

Unfortunately, in doing so, Danny separated himself from both communities that he was a part of.

Now, Jazz felt that for the first time in over a century, she saw the care he once carried all around him, emerge once more. This Sawyer kid, no doubt has been a huge part of that.

She saw the need to point it out as such, “I think this change has been good for you, little brother.” At Danny’s puzzled face, she continued, “You seem more energetic, more comfortable in your own body,” she said with a smile.

She set her cup down on the lounge table and walked over to Danny who was on the opposite side, kneeling down and holding her hand on top of his knee. “It must’ve hurt, keeping a part of yourself buried for so long,” she whispered quietly, but without another sound nearby it was louder than clear.

It was this comment that broke Danny’s defenses down, an attack so gentle it wouldn’t even have left a scratch. First came one tear, and then another, before they were followed by many more soon enough until her little brother was sobbing uncontrollably. Jazz didn’t think twice before embracing him in a tight hug.

He hugged back just as tightly, if not tighter. If Jazz were still human, she would’ve had to beg for air soon enough. So it was a good thing she didn’t have to.

The siblings just sat there, crying into each other’s shoulders for Ancients know how long.

------------------------------------------------------

On a clear spring day, Sawyer was prepared to head into Daniel Leverton’s shop early in the morning as he’s done many times before, half expecting he may have to wake up his teacher again; an occurrence that had become quite familiar to him as of late.

Instead, he was met with a decked-out first floor, a cake at his workbench, and a very awake Mr. Leverton.

“Happy birthday, I hope you’ll like your gift!” the raven-haired man had exclaimed.

Sawyer barked a laugh at that. “I honestly didn’t expect you to have remembered,” he said. His tone wasn’t rude, not in the slightest. He was merely stating a fact.

“I didn’t either, but hey, seems like old-timers still run alright once in a while,” he said with a wink.

And that had always been a peculiarity to Sawyer. He knew that Mr. Leverton was older than he looked. Even if he didn’t always act it, he had way too much experience for that not to be the case. But other times he would sound like any of his slightly older friends. Yet on occasion, he sounded like so much more. Even his grandparents wouldn’t have compared when they’d been alive.

Sawyer pushed those silly musings out of his head before accepting his gift – some tools that he may or may not have been drooling over while he was out with Mr. Leverton gathering supplies a few weeks ago, as well as some chocolates he vaguely remembered noting he enjoyed once, offhandedly.

For someone so air-headed – or perhaps, appearing to be on another plane entirely, the elder was attentive like no other.

Daniel Leverton was a curious man, and he continued to surprise the young mechanic.

------------------------------------------------------

It was on a different spring morning, several springs after that birthday, that Sawyer received an important email.

It was an email of acceptance into college – one dictating that he’d be the recipient of a scholarship, no less.

Mr. Leverton was the first person he’d tell about this news. Instead of the immediate excitement that he’d expected of the man, he received a pondering expression.

“Y’know, I was about to ask if you were interested in taking over the shop,” he’d said after he left Sawyer to wander about in his own confusion for a while.

Before he could respond, however, Leverton continued, “I’m proud of you, you should definitely go for it, I know how much it means for you. Just know you’ll always have a place to return to.”

“What are you going to do then?” he responded.

Mr. Leverton hummed with his trademark smirk and grinned, “I was thinking of taking an early pension and traveling the world for a bit. I still have a lot of inheritance left from my too-rich godfather, too. And I’ll keep the building for now, but clients will have to find a new favorite mechanic. Oh, I just know how much it’ll pain them to not find me again though, truly tragic,” he explained dramatically.

“You know, Mr. Leverton, sometimes it really doesn’t feel like you’re the older one of the two of us anymore,” Sawyer teased.

“Oh, but I can assure you I am,” the other said with a wink, “But feel free to call me Danny. Seeing you call me Mr. Leverton to this day really does make me feel so old,” he continued, placing a hand on his heart with a pained expression.

“Heh, okay, Danny,” Sawyer tested the name on his tongue. “I’ll let you know about the shop when I get close to graduating, yeah?”

“We have a deal!” Danny responded as he theatrically shook his hand. “Those stuck-up academics won’t know what’ll hit them.”

------------------------------------------------------

Danny didn’t actually travel the world like he’d told Sawyer; he’d done that plenty of times before. Going on two world-round trips within a century sounded kinda overkill, even to him.

No, what he did in actuality was that he decided to reside in the Infinite Realms for a little longer again – while still returning to Earth on occasion to let the systems know that he had not, in fact, died yet. He didn’t plan on doing that for a few years yet.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Danny’s been planning on his new identity for a bit now. Or, well, old identity.

“Do you think the world is ready for the return of Danny Fenton?” he’d mused to Jazz on a seemingly random day.

“I don’t see why not,” she responded. “What brought you to this decision?”

“I just think it would be nice to revisit some old memories, friends, and places.”

Jazz smiled serenely at that. “I think that’s a great idea, Danny.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Heard anything from Sawyer recently?” Jazz asked him one day, a different random day. Danny shook his head.

“Nah, seems like he’s been living a good life. He hasn’t been updating me as frequently lately, but I like to see that as him broadening his circles,” he responded fondly. But then, his mortal phone rang – techniques to make them compatible with ghost-tech and the ‘Zone courtesy to Tucker, of course – and he laughed. “Speak of the devil.” He transformed into his human form before picking up the call.

“Hey there, Sawyer. How’s school been?”

“It’s … been very great, actually, Danny. I have met someone very great, in fact. But uhm – more on that later. Remember what you said about the shop?”

------------------------------------------------------

Danny returned to his cozy little shop for the first time in roughly four years, not so long after he’d attended Sawyer’s graduation ceremony. He picked up a few of his belongings he couldn’t miss, and threw them inside his pocket dimension for safekeeping.

It was as he did this, that Sawyer entered, and caught him in the act. He’d been planning for this to happen, really.

The young man looked a bit confused but didn’t see any need to press further. If anything, Danny figured this would answer some questions in the long run, once the other thought about it.

“Heh, that’s not something you see any day,” was the boy’s first comment.

“Really? I see it happen plenty of times,” Danny snarked back.

“Man, I’d so want to punt you if I didn’t know for sure I stood no chance.”

Danny hummed, “I think you’ll have to stand back in the line for that.”

Neither man said another thing for a while after that, until Danny’s eyes landed on a small ecto-ornament he’d put on his table when he left for the Ghost Zone those years ago. He picked it up and held it out to Sawyer.

“Here, keep this. If you’ll ever be gone for a while, put this out in the open and it’ll put the area into stasis. Nothing will age for the worse, and it’ll serve as a protective charm against burglaries,” Danny said in a light tone at the end, though he wasn’t joking. Attempted burglars will wake up more than a little dazed if they so much as dare touch upon the shop.

“I … Honestly, I’m not even gonna question that. I just saw you tear a hole in reality,” Sawyer responded.

“That’s probably for the best,” Danny said with a gentle nod of his head before putting the ornament into the young man’s hands.

“Anyway, I’ve got everything I need. You can keep the rest, or throw it out – whatever floats your boat. This place is yours now. I left my key and the spares on my workbench,” Danny explained with a tilt of his head.

“What are you going to do this time?”

“That’s a secret,” Danny replied. “But do come find me again, as a man named Daniel Fenton.”

------------------------------------------------------

Years pass by, with Sawyer finding no such man.

Until one day, into his later years, when his children had already taken over the shop, he heard a familiar voice he’d not heard in decades, but could never forget.

“Hey there, Sawyer,” Danny Fenton said, in the flesh; not looking a day older than their last meeting all those years ago.

…

“I’m proud of you.” And I of you.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #cae's writing #fanfic #phan phic #character study #been a while since i posted my writing here jlkasdf #hopefully i edited it for tumblr properly...#its always a bit hard here bc it doesnt automatically put stuff in italics #damn #dp #fic

30 notes · View notes

nerdywriter36 · 2 months

Note

For the one word ask games I give you MULTIPLE!!

stab

struggle

rose

blood

thanks for the ask, Aster! let's see what we've got.

stab

Erik sighed and hung his head for a moment. “Why can’t you just leave?” he asked. “You stabbed me, clearly you didn’t care a moment ago if I lived or died.”

struggle

It was proving quite the struggle, however, to not go running back when she was so terrified of losing anymore in her life.

rose

Friend. His heart gave a pang as she left the little dressing room that he chose to ignore, even though he couldn’t explain the reasons for it. That pain hardly lessened when he noticed, on her vanity, the red rose that he had left for her before the lesson. She had forgotten it and it would certainly die before her return.

blood

“Do not go through my things,” Erik snapped, squeezing his eyes shut as he rolled onto his back, which gave him a look at how blood-soaked his shirt had become.

no, I will not be giving away which WIPs any of these are from, so let your minds run wild :)

#ask game #aster #writing stuff #phic #poto #my writing

7 notes · View notes

q-gorgeous · 2 years

Text

Witch

Sam had a bad feeling about this.

She walked up to her altar and picked up a cleansing stick she had tied together last night, made of dried sage she had grown in her greenhouse some time back. She lit the sticks and wafted it around her room.

Danny had been missing for three weeks now. Nobody knew what happened to him. There hadn’t been any trace of him since he seemingly vanished that day. They had gone every possible route that they could’ve, and still nothing.

Sam sat down on the floor in front of her altar. She pulled out a black candle and placed it inside the candle holder. She picked up a notebook, writing her intention down on a page inside it. Ripping the page out, she folded it up a few times and held it up in front of her.

This was her last chance. She wasn’t sure it would do anything, her hopes of any possible leads about where Danny was were dwindling.

She picked up the lighter that was sitting on her altar and lit the candle. Its light danced across her face, casting shadows around her room. She watched it for a few seconds, reminding herself of her intention, and held the piece of paper up to the flame and watched it begin to burn.

Let Danny come home. Protect him wherever he is. Let me know he’s safe.

After a few seconds Sam set the paper down in a bowl that sat beside the candle.

She didn’t understand how he just disappeared like that. Tucker hadn’t heard anything from him, neither did Jazz. They hadn’t talked to him since they had all said goodbye for the night, Sam and Tucker on a video call and Jazz on her way to bed down the hall.

And Danny’s mom had seemed really calm about it all. She was convinced he just ran away. But why wasn’t she concerned about the reasons he could have run away? She wasn’t questioning anything. Even Danny’s dad wasn’t that calm. Didn’t think Danny had just run away due to some “teenage angst.” He had sat down with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker one day and told them that he didn’t think Danny ran away. That he thought there was something wrong.

Sam stared at the candle as it burned. The wax dripped down, making odd shapes inside the candle holder.

The more time that passed, the weirder Maddie’s reaction was. She was still convinced Danny would return home any day now. She ignored any push her family tried to make in finding Danny. Meanwhile Jack was clearly growing tired, melancholic. Jazz told her that Jack no longer slept in the bedroom with Maddie. That he stayed in the guest bedroom now. Maddie’s attitude still never seemed to change.

The candle was almost gone. She had watched it burn almost in its entirety. She picked her candle snuffer off the shelf in front of her.

She just hoped Danny would be okay.

Sam snuffed out the flame.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #ectober2022 #sam manson #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic #this is a test #to see if the one with no links gets any notes #im over tumblr not showing my stuff

78 notes · View notes

camels-pen · 7 months

Text

chapter 9! simply titled "joker moment" (thanks red <3)

#danny phantom #nemo the writing ho #invisobang #invisobang 2023 #phic #oh wait to clarify #there isn't any dc stuff in this kfjhgdg

7 notes · View notes

sansxfuckyou · 8 months

Text

I think the only way to reach peak writing is to be in a list of fic recs

#i still stay up at night thinking of the time a really good phic writer said someone new should check out my stuff

5 notes · View notes

madamedestler · 3 months

Text

Come join my 18+ Phantom of the Opera discord! We have a lot of fun stuff, including sneak peaks at upcoming fanfiction and novels, as well as discussing the many adaptations of Phantom. We also have movie night every Friday night. The link will be below!

#phantom of the opera #poto #the phantom of the opera #fanfiction #erik #erik phantom #poto 2004 #phan phic #poto fanfiction #discord server #discord stuff

3 notes · View notes

phanboyo · 2 years

Text

Under the Skin, Behind the Eyes

*swoops in at the last minute with the first chapter of a new fic* Sorry it took so long, this month has been very hectic, but here's a fic based on @five-rivers 's prompt, "For centuries, the cult has anticipated the glorious rise of Lord Phantom. That time is at hand. All they need to bring him fully into the mortal world is the perfect sacrifice: Danny Fenton." featuring a bit of @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy 's prompt, "Jazz is beginning to think she might have psychic powers."

Content warning: contains kidnapping, violence, murder, thoughts of suicide and self harm, and disassociation

AO3

FFN

In the darkness of his room, Danny slowly opened his eyes. The amber glow of the streetlights outside seeped through the cracks in his curtains and made odd shadows out of the clothes and books and games littering his floor. Danny's room, no matter what state it was in, always served as a safe, comfortable space for him. It was a place he could escape from his nagging sister, or his crazy parents, a place away from the rest of the world, where he could just be alone, with his own thoughts, if he chose, or with friends if he preferred. He didn't realize how comfortable that privacy was until tonight.

As his eyes roamed the room, he saw nothing out of place, and he took a deep breath to try to calm himself. He couldn't remember the nightmare, but he felt the aftereffects, unsettled by something entirely unknown. He looked up at the glowing stars stuck to his ceiling to ground himself.

Danny jumped at a noise from the hall outside his door and immediately berated himself. He was fourteen, not a kid anymore. He could handle a nightmare. Deciding that it was obviously just Jazz or one of his parents getting a glass of water, Danny stubbornly laid his head back down and pulled up the covers, his back to the door. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the fact that his unsettled feeling hadn't gone away.

And so, Danny met his alarm clock's shrill greeting with annoyance and exhaustion. Whatever nightmare that had gripped him so tightly through the night as to bar him from true sleep was chased away by the light of the morning. With the light, there were no unfamiliar shadows or imagined unknown depths. His room was his again and he angrily got dressed for school.

The living room was filled with the scent of frankincense, which was never a good sign for his folks. Danny decided to skip breakfast and leave before they could catch him, in hopes that whatever had them worried might ease off by the time he got home. He yanked his backpack out from under a box of white sheets sitting on the couch and headed for the door.

"Oh, Danny!" called Jazz as she entered the room. "There you are!" she walked over to him and smiled, relief easing her shoulders as she met his eyes, which Danny promptly rolled.

"Do you need something?" he asked anyway.

She bit her lip and glanced to the box of linens on the couch. "Um, no, not..." She examined him again, looking somewhat distracted, but Danny wasn't really in the mood to ask. "No." she decided.

Danny nodded slowly, lamenting his family's weirdness. "Well," he said slowly, "I'm gonna go to school," he pointed to the door with his thumb.

"Oh, let me drive you!" She walked briskly to the bathroom to grab something from the counter, and with the door ajar Danny noticed that the mirror was covered by a white sheet.

Jazz plucked her keys from the hook on the wall, slung her bag over her shoulder and turned back to the door just in time to see it shut. "Danny!" she called after him.

_____

The school day progressed normally, with Danny mostly paying attention in class between doodles. Lunch was as unimpressive as ever, some sort of chunky brownish-gray sludge paired with dry baby carrots and a cream-colored cookie as hard as a hockey puck. Danny deemed the carrots safe enough.

"-even listening to me?" Danny looked up at Sam who was looking at him expectantly.

"Uh, yeah," Danny started, trying to play back in his mind the conversation he hadn't actually been listening to. "Occult holiday? Very cool."

Sam seemed to accept this answer well enough. "Yeah, well you only get an overlap of celestial phenomena like this once every few centuries."

Danny perked up at this "Oh are you talking about the Luceli comet tonight?" Danny had been in such a funk this morning he'd nearly forgotten.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yes. I knew you weren't paying attention."

"Get the future astronaut and the astrology nut on the same page and I'm out," Tucker said.

"I'm not an astrology nut Tucker, that's way too mainstream for me," Sam insisted.

"Yeah okay, don't act like you don't have your rising and moon and everything all mapped out," he said. It was about then that Danny checked back out of the conversation, having no idea what they were talking about.

Danny walked home after school, his shoulders sore from his backpack straps digging in, and his head empty. He was so tired. He couldn't wait to go up to his room, shut the door and collapse into bed. He hoped the incense didn't pervade the house enough to reach his room.

Danny was suddenly seized by a large arm locking around his thin body, easily picking him up to leave his feet kicking in the air. A cold piece of cloth was pressed forcefully to his face and Danny yelled through it, panicking. His head was yanked back into the chest of his attacker and the pressure of the hand against his face made his nose hurt.

Whatever the cloth was soaked in smelled astringent and oddly sweet, and before Danny could think to hold his breath his vision began to blur and his exhaustion overcame him.

_____

"-small, are you sure he'll have enough blood in 'im?"

Danny's whole body felt sore and heavy. His neck hurt and he could barely register the hard floor under his shoulder.

"Dolohov you idiot, did you even read the ritual? The amount of blood doesn't matter, it's only purpose is as a conduit for the life force."

Danny's mind felt cloudy. Were these people talking to his parents about their weird ghost stuff? It didn't sound like his parents. It didn't smell like frankincense or sage or lavender. It smelled like paint and burning pine.

"Well so-rry Masters, we can't all be college dropouts." The voice came through more clearly now.

"That wasn't my fault and you know it! Besides, I'll have my revenge on that dolt soon enough."

Danny fought through the fog and blinked his eyes open to a dim light. He moved to rub his eyes but found something tugging on his wrists.

"Ah, I think the little lamb is waking now."

Danny drew in a sharp breath and nearly coughed. He was in a large room, lit by many candles. He laid on his side with his ankles and wrists tied with a rough chord that scratched at his skin. Underneath him were scribbled lines, too dark to make out in the dim lighting. He saw a few men dressed in dark flowing clothing and white masks.

"Good, we can start the preparation." He felt a cold hand yank him up by the arm, and it was only then that he realized that he had been stripped of all his clothes, covered only by a white linen tied around his waist.

He couldn't find the strength in his legs to stand, but the man gripping his arm seemed to have no trouble holding him up. He peered at Danny's face, and Danny could make out gleaming dark eyes through the eye holes in the mask. "We'll need you quite sober for this, little lamb. Don't worry though, we won't draw it out too long."

Danny's heart hammered in his chest. Was this some sort of weird prank? It was definitely up his parents' alley. But that feeling of dread from the night before had returned in full force, pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he knew that this time it was real. "Wha-what are you gonna do t'me?" Danny's voice sounded terribly weak and raspy to his ears.

The man hummed. "You have the honor of being the world-opening sacrifice to the Tromeros Phantaezo, the great and powerful Lord of Death."

Danny's blood ran cold and he realized as his cheeks begun to cool that at some point he had started to cry.

"Brethren let us begin," called a deep voice from behind him. "We must have him prepared before Venus reaches its zenith."

With that another masked man came, reverently carrying an ornate silver bowl, addorned with engravings that gleamed like stars in the flickering candlelight. "To purify the vessel."

A fistfull of Danny's hair yanked his head back as the bowl was brought to his firmly closed mouth. It was warm against his lips and the smell wafting from it was of honey and sweet spices. "Drink" he was commanded.

When he refused to obey, his jaw was yanked open quite painfully, and he let out a cry as the sweet liquid filled his mouth, which was then promptly held shut by a sweaty hand. He stared angrily at the men in front of him through tears, and in his defiance another pinched Danny's nose, forcing him to swallow so he could breathe.

"C'mon little lamb, that wasn't so bad now was it?"

He distantly registered chanting behind him in some foreign tongue, and Danny tried to yank out of the cultist's grasp to no avail. "Let me go, you freaks!" Danny's throat felt thick and his voice sounded abnormally high and muddied.

The cultist in front of him grabbed his chin and looked into his eyes. "You should be honored, little lamb. The pain will be over soon enough. Shame you won't get to see the Lord of Death in all his glory as he makes this world his."

A wooden stick with a blackened end was dragged across Danny's forehead, uncomfortably warm. "Yew ash," a voice said, barely audible above the now constant chanting.

Danny was brought to kneel in the painted symbols on the ground, a cultist at his back with a fistful of dark hair. Another approached, a knife in his hand gleaming in the firelight.

"A life touched by Sight," he said as the chanting reached a crescendo, "given to open the door!"

The knife was plunged into Danny's chest, cold and hot as he was gripped with shock. He dimly registered the hot blood leaking down his stomach, seeping into his loincloth and dripping onto the floor. His vision swam and his hearing dimmed. He no longer felt a tension at his scalp and he collapsed to the stone floor in a heap.

His eyes fluttered, desperately trying to stay open, but they felt so heavy. He could barely make out a bright light in the shape of a man, a cold, otherworldly green instead of the warm yellow of the candles. A piercing screech hit his ears and it all went dark.

_____

Danny hadn't been expecting to wake. He hadn't thought too deeply about the existence of an afterlife before, but he was quite shocked to find consciousness at all. He felt a dull ache in his chest. He reached up to touch it, surprised to find his hands unbound. He looked quickly around the dark room, the sight that greeted him making his heart drop into his stomach.

Despite the lack of an obvious light source, he could see quite clearly the remnants of the ritual, as well as the still forms of black-clad, mask-wearing cultists laid all throughout the room. Their masks were no longer white.

Danny felt his stomach roiling at the stench of blood. He tried to retch, but all he had eaten today was a couple of dry baby carrots and spiced honey water. He found himself on all fours, staring at the concrete and trying to breathe deeply enough to calm his nerves. The smell was making it worse.

His eyes wandered over to his hands, which were dark up to the elbows, covered in blood. What happened?! The question repeated over and over in his mind, panicked, confused, and overwhelming.

He stood on shaking legs and looked around the room, trying hard not to look at the corpses littering the floor, still warm. I have to get out of here.

Danny spotted the door, stained with a large smear of blood at eye level, smeared down to meet a cultist leaning up against it as if crushed against it while trying to escape. A sob choked its way out of Danny's mouth as he lurched towards the door on shaking legs like those of a newborn doe.

Danny fumbled for the knob and tried to yank it open, sobs growing louder as he failed to pull against the dead weight at the bottom or the lock holding it closed. He yanked and pushed the handle desperately in rapid succession, irrationality taking hold, and suddenly fell through the door.

He landed hard on the other side and gasped. He turned and stared up at the door. It was still closed.

"... what..?" his voice was whispered, but deafening in the silence around him. He took deep breaths of blood-free air, trying to clear the snot and tears from his throat.

'Get up.'

The thought was so loud that Danny looked around, thinking someone else had said it. Finding himself alone, he took another deep breath and got up. The concrete was cold against his feet, but not uncomfortable.

He padded up the stairs at the end of the hall and pushed open the door, leading into a long hallway, dim moonlight streaking in from large spaces out windows. Could he just leave? Should he try to find his stuff, or find a phone and call the police?

'How do you think the police will react to find you covered in the blood of a dozen dead men with not a scratch on you?'

Danny jumped at the voice. "W-who's there?" he looked up and down the hallway and saw no one. It was silent, save for the beating of his own heart, much slower than he would have expected.

Danny's hand came up to his chest where he had been stabbed. He felt smooth skin underneath dried blood. Startled, he looked down at his body. He was still mostly naked, and covered in blood, but the voice was right, there wasn't a scratch on him.

He was suddenly very aware of the drying blood crumbling and flaking on his skin as he moved and felt an overwhelming urge to scrub it off. He walked silently down the hall, opening doors until he found a bathroom. Before he could think about the sense of his actions the bloodstained linen was in the wastebasket and Danny was standing under a stream of hot water, watching it turn rust red as it snaked its way towards the drain. He scrubbed his skin until it stung.

Danny stood in the shower perhaps longer than he should. He had no idea where he was or what time it was. If it weren't for the unfamiliar shower he was standing in and the shampoo that wasn't his, he would be thinking it had been some sort of crazy dream. But he could still feel a phantom of rough hands on his jaw, still smell the ghost of the sweet odor of chloroform, still feel the cold metal of a silver dagger push through his skin.

Danny pressed a hand to his chest, just over his heart. A second passed. Two. Three. Just as Danny started to panic, he felt a beat under his fingers. It was slow, but steady. He must have imagined it, then. There was no way he could have survived that. Was he crazy? Sane people didn't hear voices.

He did his best to shove that thought out of his mind, shutting off the water and grabbing an emerald green towel off the rack. After drying off, he rubbed at the fog on the mirror, looking at his expression. He looked normal, despite how different he felt.

Images of the ritual room flashed through his mind again in painful detail. His breath hitched and he held the eyes of his reflection, trying to ground himself and not really succeeding. He could hear the dripping off the shower faucet, steadier than his own breath.

"Did I kill those people?" He asked himself.

His reflection's eyes flashed a cold, otherworldly green. "No, I did," the echoey voice left his mouth without his input and Danny jumped back from the mirror, falling against the tub with a startled cry.

"Wha- oh, oh man I really am crazy." Danny's hands climbed into his hair, fingers pulling at the wet strands.

'I am not a hallucination.'

"Very reassuring," Danny responded hysterically, only vaguely aware that he was now talking to himself. "Sounds exactly like something a hallucination would say."

'I am Phantaezō.'

Danny froze. "Lord of Death?" His voice was small. Were his parents right about spirits being real all along? Did something happen during the ritual? Maybe it wasn't all in his head, but could he afford to entertain that possibility? If he was wrong it would only drive him further into madness.

'I'll prove it.'

Danny felt a chill run up his spine and suddenly he felt lighter. When did he stand up? He looked down to find that he was in fact not standing, but floating. Danny yelled. His eyes were glowing green in the mirror again.

"Stop it! Stop!" Danny yelled, clutching at his head and clenching his eyes shut. He felt his butt hit the floor again, cushioned by the plush yellow bath mat, and felt slight relief at the familiar return of weight to his body.

He thought of how he fell through the door to the hallway. Surely he couldn't just have imagined that. He stared at his hands, thinking about passing through the door. He felt a chill and his hands became translucent. He gasped and they flickered back to normal. He turned them over, staring.

"...What did you do to me?" he whispered.

'I saved you.'

How, Danny was about to ask, before his parents' constant distrust of spirits kicked in. "Why?"

The spirit was quiet for a long time, but Danny could feel its presence in his mind, cold but intense, burning like frostbite. Finally it spoke.

'They wanted me for their bidding, those foolish mortals thought they could control me, me.' The spirit paused. 'In their effort to hold me, they made a mistake trying to close the Door. If I hadn't latched onto a stable form I would have been torn.'

Danny was silent, trying to digest this. A god of death saved his life and possessed him in order to avoid being destroyed by cultists, whom it then killed using Danny's body.

"Why me?"

'You have touched death.'

Danny's breath caught in his throat as the Phantom pain of a dagger struck his chest. "Am I dead?"

The spirit paused. 'Not… anymore.'

Danny took a deep breath and pressed his hand to his heart, feeling for the slow beats to reassure him that the spirit was speaking truth. He was alive. He was possessed. What should he do? "Exorcism?" He ventured.

The spirit scoffed. 'As if any priest could remove me.'

Danny clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. He was posessed by some great god of death. Could a priest handle that? Twelve occultists who seemed to know what they were doing certainly couldn't. Maybe his parents could help, they knew about this kind of thing. His mind went back to the corpses lining the room. No. No, he wouldn't get them killed. He bit his lip. They were probably worried sick about him. He had no idea how long he'd been away. The change from day to night showed that it had been at least several hours since school ended, but for all he knew it could be days.

'Human?' the voice interrupted his thoughts.

"My name is Danny," he replied absently.

'Danny,' it said pointedly. 'If you build me a new Door I can leave.'

There was a way out? Danny stood. "Okay, how do I build this door then?" he asked eagerly. His thoughts then returned to the ritual, the cultist's voice echoing in his ears. "A life touched by sight given to open the door!" He slumped again, filling with an odd combination of rage and despair. "I won't kill anyone."

'I can take care of that,' it said.

Danny's eyes snapped up to the mirror. They were blue. He pointed at his reflection nevertheless. "No," he said forcefully, ignoring the shake in his muscles. "You are not killing anyone."

The spirit huffed a long sigh.

"Promise!" Danny demanded.

'You want me to promise?' it asked in amusement.

"Yes!" Danny exclaimed. "Swear!"

Danny resisted a flinch as his eyes swirled green. He watched his shoulders relax and a smile eased its way onto his face. A low, echoing chuckle oozed from his mouth. "How could you possibly stop me, little lamb?"

Danny was starting to really hate that nickname. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt a coolness wash over him that had nothing to do with the ghost inside of him.

"I'll kill myself."

His reflection tilted it's head, eyeing him curiously.

"I'll kill myself, and then you won't have a-a stable form to latch onto."

A hand came up to brush his lips as if in thought. The smile on his face became challenging. "What makes you think I couldn't just bring you back again?"

Danny's stomach dropped. Was he forced to be the puppet of some murderous evil spirit against his own will? Trapped with this demon in some sort of hell on earth? Surely there had to be some way out. Maybe he could destroy himself beyond repair. Surely even this thing had its limits.

"I-I'll throw myself in a wood chipper," Danny tried. "Jump into an inferno. Bury myself in concrete. Drag myself to the bottom of the ocean." Danny's breath hitched. "Launch my ashes into space."

His reflection examined him for a long moment. "You feel very strongly about this," it noted, amusement mixing with curiosity.

Danny nodded, his breath coming in and out more quickly than he'd realized. "Yes."

It stared at him for another long moment before seeming to make up its mind. "Alright," it said. "I won't kill anyone while I'm here."

Danny nodded. "Promise."

His reflection rolled its eyes. "I promise not to intentionally kill anyone while I'm here. Cross my heart and hope to, well," it smiled. "You know."

Danny took a shaky breath and turned away from the mirror, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, so how do I build this door?"

'Well, without some sacrifices to part the veil, it'll take a while. I suggest getting comfortable, we're in it for the long haul, kid.'

_____

It took Danny a while to find some clothes. The layout of the mansion (it could only be described as a mansion) was confusing, and the continuous green and gold color scheme that adorned the winding hallways didn't help. Phantom seemed to pick up on the layout much more quickly however, and let Danny know when he was backtracking or going in circles.

The fifth bedroom that Danny found was the largest so far, and the only one with clothes in the closet. Nearly all of them were suits, collared shirts, and slacks, and silken pajamas, but he found some sweatpants, which he cinched tightly at the waist, and a Green Bay Packers hoodie.

"That explains the decor," Danny muttered. "How crazy can you get?"

'Cultists, remember?' the spirit chimed.

"Your cult," Danny reminded him, pulling the hoodie on.

'I don't claim them,' he replied hotly. 'They tried to control me.'

Danny rolled his eyes. "Betrayal cuts deep, huh?"

The spirit made an offended noise. 'I was never affiliated with those misguided idiots!'

Danny rolled up the hems of the sweatpants to keep himself from tripping on them and felt tiny in the oversized clothes. "Yeah, okay ghost boy," he muttered as he began looking for shoes that could potentially fit him, but quickly gave up. If he couldn't find his stuff he might have to brave the world in sweatpants and socks.

'Ghost boy?' it asked incredulously. 'I am the Regnandi Sarruum Phantaezō, Lord of Death, defeater of Pariah Dark, conqueror of the Infinite Realms-'

"Okay, okay, touchy," Danny said. "Reggie, Sam, Phantom, whatever."

Phantom didn't grumble, per say, but Danny could feel his irritation, buzzing like static on a TV. 'You were not this impertinent before.'

Danny snorted. "Threatening to throw you in a wood grinder isn't impertinent?" His grin faded and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think I have any more energy to deal with ridiculous things like threats of violence today."

'Sleep, then. There is much work to be done if I am to return to the Infinite Realms.'

Danny shook his head. “I wanna get this over with as soon as possible, I don’t want you here any longer than necessary. Danny shut the closet door. What do we need to get started?”

'Well, a lot of things. Raven feathers, silver, dead sea salt, highly conductive metals for energy relay, beta flos sanguinus-those will be vital if you're going to continue to be adamant about the whole "not killing anyone" thing-oh, and we'll need some explosives-'

"Explosives?!"

'We'll be punching a hole between dimensions, kid. Don't worry, explosives are easy to come by in this plane.'

"That's not what I was-" Danny huffed. "Okay, whatever. Explosives, sure. What's the, the beta floss?"

'Beta flos sanguine, a type of flower with special properties. Witch hunters tend to have them, do you know of any?'

"Do I know of any witch hunters?" Danny asked incredulously.

'Yes, they go from town to town with diverse weapons of torture, hunting-'

"I know what a witch hunter is!" Danny said, rolling his eyes. "It's not the 1600s anymore, witch hunters aren't a thing!"

Phantom seemed to consider this. 'I'll admit, it has been a while since I was last summoned, and news of your realm has been rather scant of late. Alright then, who fights against the creatures of darkness nowadays?'

"The creatures-" Danny shut his mouth before he could make another sarcastic remark and thought for a moment. Sam would probably call herself a creature of darkness, but that's probably not what Phantom was referring to. "Uh I dunno, priests?" Horror movies like The Exorcist and The Conjuring came to mind.

Phantom made a scornful noise. 'Doubtful they'd have such things. They don't know the first thing about the occult, or actual mechanisms of summoning and banishment. They merely rely on their paltry faith.'

Danny hummed as his mind went back to Sam. She definitely educated herself on the occult. It was one of the reasons she first became friends with him. Danny's mother made him wear a protective talisman to school after he came home with bruises courtesy of Dash. Sam saw it and immediately began to inundate him with talk of the occult and supernatural, which, much to her delight, he easily followed. She eventually realized that, despite the knowledge gained from his unusual upbringing, he had very little actual interest in the occult. By then, however, she had already deemed him a good friend and they had been ever since.

"I have a goth friend who's into gardening. She might know where to find rare occult flowers."

Phantom hummed. 'Yes, we'll have to give that a try. Best to do it quickly, the process to convert them for our purposes will take a couple months at the least.'

Danny's heart dropped as the reality of his situation began to sink in. He was stuck with a murderous spirit inside his head for months at the least. A spirit that had shown that it could take control of his body to some degree. What if it's intentions were more malicious than it was letting on? His parents always told him off the cunning and guile of evil spirits. He had stopped believing them in middle school, but now he had to wonder about the truth of it. Would this door they were preparing really rid him of Phantom? Or would it bring on the end of the world? Could Danny live with that? Would he live at all after this?

"How do I know I can trust you?" Danny asked, before amending his statement. "How do I know that this is actually going to send you back and not cause the apocalypse?"

Phantom tsked. 'You really don't know anything about the Infinite Realms, do you? Or multidimensional planar configuration?'

Danny paused. Multi what? "Uh, no. Can't say that I do," he said quietly.

'Well,' Phantom started, 'The Infinite Realms is unique in that it has all of the right physical properties and dimensional positioning to easily access a multitude of smaller planes, hence the name of "Infinite Realms."'

"Okay…?"

'It is much more vast than any other realm in existence. This is due in part because of the fluidity of what you call "ectoplasm," which makes up most of the dimension. It allows for great spatial manipulations and lends itself well to the creation or linking of pocket dimensions. Its size is also due its age, one of the two oldest realms known.'

"What's the other one?" Danny asked curiously.

'... Yours. ' Phantom said. 'They formed, near as we can tell, at the same time. More solid and stable elements of this dimension allowed for the elasticity of elements in ours, and vice versa. They are nearly opposite. Two sides of one coin. Impossibly different, but inherently linked.'

Danny listened now with rapt attention.

'It is for this reason that you can trust that I do not seek to destroy your realm. Only a fool would seek power at the cost of such imbalance. Chaos and destruction in your world would bring the same in mine.'

"... Oh," Danny said simply.

'Yes,' Phantom said, his voice taking on a softly melancholic tone, 'It's such a shame you will not have the honor of seeing its chaotic beauty.' His wistful tone became far away and nostalgic. 'The silvery green mists of the Far Fields that cling to you as you float through them, like a cold caress. The ringing sound of ectoplasmic winds through the barren zones, like the bow of a skillful player across enchanted strings, the soft glow of pertarials as you push energy through them, as if beaming in delight at your care…'

An odd feeling settled in Danny's chest as he spoke, a hiraeth that felt cool but comforting, aching but soft, certainly new, but distantly familiar in a way that was almost primordial.

"... It sounds lovely."

'It is.' Phantom said. 'And I would like to get back, so if you wouldn't mind getting a move on to wherever you're going to start this-'

"Oh, y-yes, right," Danny said, exiting the large room.

_____

Danny finally found the front door. He had searched every room he could find (which was rather a lot) but didn't find his backpack or clothes. They must have dumped them somewhere else. Danny opened the front door and was greeted by a cold wind, which would have normally chilled Danny to the bone. He didn't get so much as goosebumps. Normally this fact would have concerned him, but Danny was looking down at his feet, shod only in socks that were slightly too big for him. He looked out the door again at the woods in front of him. This small mansion appeared to be secluded. "Great," Danny muttered. "Nothing better than being lost in some creepy woods at night."

'Hey, you've got me,' Phantom said in a tone that was probably meant to be reassuring.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, lucky me."

'Indeed!' Phantom exclaimed. 'Onward!'

Danny adjusted the leather bag on his shoulder, another thing he'd found in the house, to carry water, a flashlight, a little bit of food, and some cash he'd found, just in case. With a breath, Danny took a step outside. He could barely feel the stone walkway beneath his thick socks.

"Onward," Danny echoed.

____

After about twenty minutes of walking, Danny found a dirt road, which led, about forty minutes later, to a paved road. Danny found that the unfamiliar terrain was quite easy to see and navigate through, despite the night clouds dimming the already faint moonlight.

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere." Danny knew the positions of the stars pretty well, but not quite well enough to know exactly where he was. He started walking down the road in a northeast direction. "Hopefully someone will drive by and be willing to pick up a shady teenager on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere,"

'I wouldn't worry, you don't look like any shadowy wilderness spirit I've ever seen, ' Phantom reassured.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but I was thinking more along the lines of 'mental asylum escapee,' or perhaps 'murderous delinquent.'"

Phantom gave a confused hum. 'But you've been very clear about your aversion to murder, you didn't change your mind did you?' he asked, a with a little too much excitement.

"No!" Danny said emphatically. "No murder." He put his face in his hands. "And here I am talking to a murderous voice in my head. Who wouldn't want to pick me up?"

'I'm sure someone will come along,' Phantom said.

About an hour later, Danny was considering taking a break, when a pair of distant headlights came into view. Eagerly, Danny stuck his thumb out into the road. "C'mon, c'mon."

The semi truck slowed to a stop next to him and Danny resisted the urge to cheer. The window rolled down and a man leaned over to get a look at him. He looked Danny up and down, lingering on his wet, dirty socks, before coming up to look Danny in the eyes again.

"Hey kid, you lost? It ain't safe out here this time 'a night."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, I don't know where I am, could you give me a ride?"

"Hop in," he said, pushing the door open and pulling back into the driver's side. Danny climbed up into the truck and sat in the large seat, smiling at the warm air blowing on his damp socks as the driver continued back down the road.

"How old are you, kid? You a runaway?" he asked, glancing at Danny out of the side of his eye.

Danny shook his head. "I'm fourteen."

"Fourteen," he repeated. "And what brought you to the middle 'a nowhere Wisconsin?"

So I'm in Wisconsin, Danny thought. That's only a few states over. Maybe his journey back home wouldn't be so long after all. "Cultists," Danny replied.

"Reaally?" the man responded dubiously.

"Yep."

"Cultists."

"Mhmm. Tied me up to sacrifice to a god of death." Danny said without a beat.

"Well you look pretty good for a sacrifice victim."

Danny shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a tough kid."

'Having a powerful otherworldly spirit with supernatural healing abilities on your side doesn't hurt,' Phantom said.

"Yeah, I'll bet you took them all out with your bare hands when you escaped," he said.

Danny's smile faltered as he remembered waking up in a dark room surrounded by corpses and covered in blood.

"... Yeah," he said quietly.

The driver glanced at him a little longer this time. "Alright, well, do you have a name?"

He nodded. "Danny."

The truck driver nodded too. "I'm Rick. Nice to meet'cha, Danny. You know, I've got a cousin named Danny, crazy fella, this one time we were rafting up in Quebec…"

Danny relaxed, watching the dark trees slide past the window and listening to Rick tell stories. He was a good storyteller, and he had a lot of them. Danny was exhausted, and with the smooth rumble of the truck and the warm air blowing through the vents, he easily fell asleep.

____

Danny was shook awake, and without a thought his hand shot up to grab the wrist of whomever had touched him.

"Whoa, easy tiger," said Rick, putting up his other hand placatingly. Danny let go of Rick's arm.

"S-sorry."

"'S okay," Rick said. "We're at a rest stop. Figured you might wanna take a bathroom break. Plus ya haven't actually told me where you're headed. You might need ta catch another ride."

Danny nodded and looked out the window. The sun was up, brightly lighting the rest stop, it looked about mid afternoon. He must've slept all through the morning. "Yeah," he nodded again. "Yeah, okay."

"Alright," Rick said, stepping out of the truck and stretching with a groan.

Danny hopped down and looked at the convenience store next to the stop. "Thanks for the ride, Rick."

"Sure thing kid, glad I found ya when I did." Rick crossed his arms. "Promise me you'll stay outta trouble, now."

Danny bit his lip. With Phantom in his head he was neck deep in trouble and he had a feeling this was only the beginning. "I'll try," he said.

Rick pursed his lips. "Alright alright, just, be safe, okay?"

Danny nodded.

"No, I mean it. You're in danger, you do whatever it takes to get yourself out okay?"

Danny hesitated.

"Listen," Rick said, "I know that sounds drastic, but I've been through some shit, and I've seen others go through worse. You don't deserve that, and letting yourself get hurt for someone else ain't right. It won't fix anything, okay?"

Danny stared at his sock-clad feet. Rick didn't get it. His situation was different. Rick didn't know what Danny was. Danny didn't even know what he was anymore. Just a ticking time bomb. A freak. A danger.

"Danny," Rick said gently and Danny looked up at him. Danny wouldn't ever see Rick again. He could just say yes and leave. Rick didn't know him. Rick was just some truck driver. He'd never know Danny was lying.

Danny took a breath and nodded. "I promise I'll be safe," he said.

Rick's shoulders fell slightly and the determined look in his eyes became sad.

He knew.

Danny looked away again and Rick let out a sigh. "I wish you luck on your travels, kid. Bright side of the tunnel is coming, I promise."

Danny nodded and with one last "Thanks," left Rick, walking toward the convenience store.

The convenience store was, in fact, very convenient. Not only did it have the usual snacks and drinks, but another section had car parts and accessories and a few pieces of clothing in sizes from medium to XXXL, a few t-shirts, sweaters, and safety vests. To Danny's delight, they even had boots.

The smallest they had was one size larger than Danny usually got, but he also grabbed a couple pairs of thick socks and hoped that would make up the difference. After purchasing them and throwing his dirty socks in the trash, Danny bought a small pepperoni pizza and found that he was ravenous.

'What is this food?' Phantom asked, 'It is quite delicious.'

"You can taste my food?!" Danny asked abruptly before slapping a hand over his mouth. He looked around the dining area, and saw that the few people there hadn't looked up from what they were doing.

'At the moment, we share a body. Most unfortunate. However, that means that, yes, I feel the same sensations you do.' Phantom supplied.

"Oh," Danny whispered. "This is called pizza and I'm gonna get another one."

'Excellent idea.'

After the second pizza Danny felt less like he was being eaten from the inside out, and found that he only had a couple dollars left. He decided to see if he could find anyone heading to Amity Park.

After asking three truckers, a pair of newlyweds, two skiers on their way to Quebec, and a mom juggling three restless children, he found a small group of musicians who were traveling to St. Louis and would be passing through.

"Sure kid, we can give you a ride. As long as you don't mind sitting next to the drums."

"I don't mind at all," Danny smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. Maybe he would be getting home today.

_____

The trip was bumpy without a seat belt, but the musicians were a great crowd. They were loud and friendly, and their frequent laughter lifted Danny's spirits and eased the ever-growing dread and anxiety that had been pooling in his chest since the previous morning. For a moment, Danny thought that maybe he could do this. Maybe his situation wasn't impossible.

"Amity Park, a nice place to live!" called Eric from the passengers seat. Danny perked up and stood on his knees to look over the other chairs and out the front window. The sky had darkened once again, but was lit brightly by the familiar city lights in the distance.

Mads slapped him hard on the back. "Here you are, Danny, home sweet home!"

"Check out those buildings!" Xan said, pointing at the network of Axion Labs facilities behind barbed wire, the letters glowing a cool blue in contrast to the warm yellow security light around the buildings. "Man, it must be cool to live here," they said.

"Yeah," Danny shrugged. He had never really thought about it before. It has always just been where he lived.

They pulled up to a gas station and everyone got out, stretching and sighing.

"You gonna be able to find your way from here?" Mads asked as Danny got out.

"Yeah, he smiled. Thanks for the ride. Good luck with your gig!"

"Thanks dude!" Eric said, waving as Danny began to walk away.

"Look us up when you get home!" Xan called.

Danny laughed. "I will!" He waved at them one more time and began to walk. He was only eight blocks away.

As he walked his hometown streets again an odd mixture of feelings churned within him. Despite the lateness of the hour and the potential dangers hidden by the nooks of shadow the streetlights couldn't reach, Danny felt comfortable and secure, finally being somewhere familiar. He felt excited with the anticipation of finally getting home, relieved that he'd finally made it after such an arduous journey, but he also felt… fear. His skin crawled, knowing that he was not just Danny anymore. He was bringing home something else. Something dangerous and unnatural, harboring a horrific creature, a wild animal that could strike at any moment, bringing unknown pains. Any harm brought by this demon would be on Danny's hands. Could he hide it? Could he truly pretend that he wasn't dangerous, that he wasn't tainted, taken, compromised? He felt like a liar and a traitor, because despite the fact that he hadn't even reached his front step, he knew that he would. He knew what he would say.

Nothing.

As Danny approached FentonWorks, he began to feel chill. Phantom buzzed at the back of his mind, a cold, anxious energy. He walked up the first step and was immediately bombarded by a yell so loud Danny could have sworn that the neighbors heard it.

'STOP!' Phantom yelled, and with a jerk Danny turned around, taking several steps away from the house without his input. It was so weird to feel your body move without telling it to.

"What?!" Danny yelled, before glancing around to ensure that no one had heard.

'What is this place?' Phantom asked.

Danny huffed, throwing his arms out in exasperation. "My house," he whispered harshly. "What's your problem?"

'Oh,' Phantom said, 'I thought you were- well, nevermind. It is warded. Please remove the sigils, they are very…' he paused. 'Uncomfortable.'

Danny rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're uncomfortable? Sure, sure, let me just take care of that for you."

Danny marched up the steps and ripped the protective talisman off the front door, tossing it in the bushes.

He tried the handle and it resisted. Locked. He didn't have his key. He juggled the handle again and again, frustration and exhaustion rising up within him.

'You can simply phase through the door,' Phantom said, amused.

"Shut up you-" Danny hissed, but then stopped as the lock clicked and the door swung open, a sliver of light casting Danny's shadow into the street.

"Danny?" Jack asked, a smile splitting his face. Danny's breath hitched at the watery look coming from his dad. "Danny!" Jack yelled, scooping Danny into a big hug. Danny felt the tension that had been building over the past two days melt in his dad's warm embrace.

After a few seconds Jack set Danny back on the ground, and he was pulled into another tight hug.

"Sweetie, we were so worried about you!" his mom said. She released him and began fussing over him, checking for injuries. "Where were you? Are you okay?" she asked.

He reached up to stop her frantic hands, her arms feeling so warm against his cold fingers. "Mom, I'm fine." He smiled weakly at her, trying to ease her worried expression. She hugged him again, only for a few seconds this time before letting go.

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry, whatever we did to upset you, we didn't- Danny we love you so much-"

Danny shook his head emphatically. "I know mom, it wasn't you or dad," he said, getting pulled into another hug.

"You know you can tell us anything, sweetie," Maddie whispered into his hair. Danny gripped her shirt tighter and he felt his throat become dry.

"Yeah, I know," he said.

After a few more seconds Maddie released him once again, and looked at him for a moment before rubbing at her eyes. "I'll go let the police know you came home," she said, walking into the kitchen.

Danny looked up at caught Jazz's gaze, staring at him from the stairs. Her eyes were wide and her fingers gripped the railing with white knuckles.

"So, Packers, eh Danny?" Jack asked. Danny didn't break eye contact with Jazz. "You know, an old friend of me and Maddie was a huge Packers fan in college. I wonder how he's doing."

She knows, Danny thought.

______

'There's no way she knows,' Phantom said as Danny pulled on his pajamas.

"I'm telling you, she knows," Danny said quietly. "Did you see the way she was looking at me?"

'You're being paranoid,' Phantom said. 'You look just as pathetically mortal as you did before, trust me.'

Danny shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. "No, she's always had some sort of sixth sense about this stuff. Weird stuff. Bad stuff."

'Met a lot of otherworldly spirits of death5 have you?' Phantom asked sarcastically.

"No," Danny huffed and sat on the bed. "It's just…" he bit his lip. "I think she knew I was gonna get kidnapped. She was acting weird that morning and-" he sighed. "Now that I think of it, it's not the first time she's been weirdly right about things."

Phantom didn't say anything for a long moment. "Phantom?" Danny asked.

'Get some sleep, kid.' Phantom sighed. 'We've got a lot of work to do.'

And so Danny laid in bed and stared at the familiar glowing star stickers on his ceiling. He was back in his old room, but it did not bring the same comforts as it once did. Here he could no longer hide from the chaotic things of the outside world. He could no longer sit in silence with his own thoughts. He could not relax with friends, knowing what danger he now posed to them. He could not be alone even in his own head. The darkness of his room reflected the newfound darkness in his mind, and in the darkness, Danny slept.

#phic phight 2022 #utsbte #fic #boyo makes stuff #boyo writes #gore #angst #au #tw suicide #I don't think this is what either prompters had in mind but the idea stuck in my head and I couldn't help myself #There were a few other prompts I wanted to write but I didn't have time :(#Maybe later....

60 notes · View notes

forlorngarden · 1 year

Text

second time im seeing ridis post being used as a reaction meme on twitter and every time it's a shock to my system. guys that's my friend in there.... my ridi....

#crazy stuff #its the assless bookmark man post btw #ridi dearest #se(ra)phic

3 notes · View notes

currentlylurking · 2 years

Text

I love the influx of in-universe blogs and stuff for DP. This is exactly the kind of content I love, and it highkey makes me want to actually do something with the ‘amity park community forum‘ url I have saved.

Do I have time for it? Probably not!

Do I still want to? Yeah.

#Danny Phantom #The gimmick when I saved the url was that it was just going to be like various reddit-themed posts from people in amity #like Am I The Asshole or just. general stuff people would post on on the community forum thing #and would be largely crowd source bc collaborative story telling my beloved #which I mean. everyone already knows that about me. that's why Phic Phight exists lmao. that's why I love d&d!#also it would be a good place to store all the inuni stuff I reblog #idk maybe I'll actually do it once my adhd meds get upped and I can be more productive #or if hyperfocus comes for my kneecaps again #currently talking

8 notes · View notes

thedarkrose17 · 2 years

Text

Halloween glam :D also mini story under the pics/cut cause I got inspired ish hopefully it's good 😅 it's a what if situation concerning his class which pretty much can't canonly happen but *shrug*

It was a slow corruption. So slow that at first, no one suspected anything was wrong.

He acted normal for a while.

Then came the occasional headaches, people wrote that off. Solis usually got headaches when he saw visions of people's lives it was nothing unusual for him.

Mood swings. That was taken as stress so people left him be, let him go off to do his own thing.

The reaper job was supposed to be fine. He was the warrior of light, he couldn't be so easily corrupted right? He was safe from it right?

Granted they usually say making contact with voidsent ends in trouble. They're dangerous, deadly even. They crave aether and Solis was filled with it. Everyone was but his was far more powerful.

Solis was different right? They couldn't affect him right?

The voidsent slowly fed off his aether, slowly corrupted him. By the time anyone noticed it was far too late.

It didn't alter his form, he still appeared as a miqo'te but everything that made Solis himself was gone.

At this point he couldn't tell friend from foe. Both tasted his scythe. Skin and armour and weapons became stained with crimson.

When said friends was at the end of his weapon, they could have sworn they saw tears in his eyes before he took the swing almost like maybe some small part of him was still there.

#darkrose17 stuff #darkrose17 writing #darkrose17 writes #mini story has some cha///racter de///ath pretty much it's not gra///phic though 😅

2 notes · View notes

roundaboutnow · 26 days

Text

i am literally always listening to this, i dont even know why

0 notes

five-rivers · 26 days

Text

Welcome Back Home

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

329 notes · View notes