#sam manson rewrite
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About Sam🦇
"Sam Manson, Aka Amity Park's "Ghost Girl" is well known for her love for the supernatural and paranormal, ESPECIALLY for Ghosts. She lives for all the crazy horror that happens around her town. Imagine how she feels that one of her BFF's a super cool ghost! She's always ready for an adventure with her friends, her motto, the crazier the better!"
Personality:
I know there's been ALOT of arguments about Sam's character, I figure we already know them. Point a lot of people see her to be very judgemental, selfish, hypocritical, causing trouble for her friends, especially Danny and have "I'm not like other girls" vibes. Tbh I think the main problem was that she just didn't have proper development. I think a lot of characters had that issue, not just her. Flaws and all she's a good character or atleast I think so. She cares a lot especially for her friends and what's right and I love that! With that said I am making some changes for my personal take.
A huge change is her idea on ghosts. While OG Sam said they're "too mainstream", my Sam LOVES GHOSTS!!!!
Another change is that she's on the more spontaneous, out there side, like(Mabel Pines, Marcy Wu, Louise Belcher, Anne Boonchuy, LMK Mei, Glitch Techs Miko, Luz Noceda, ROTTMNT April, Casey Jones/Foot recruit, Kid- Kid Cosmic, Molly McGee, NSR Mayday, Star Butterfly) vibes. She definentley vibes to Luz's "Us weirdos needs to stick together!" She is still unapologetically herself and wouldn't change herself for anyone. With that said is actually rather self concious of herself and secretly feels rather lonely, feeling distant from the people around her, being "too much or weird" for them, sometimes wishing she could fit in better with people. Atleast she has friends who like her the way she is.
For my version I also want her to be more focused on horror stuff, such as ghosts. I remember in ep 1 she thought they were "too mainstream". Scrapping that completely. I want this girl to be OBSESSED with ghosts. But at the same time her activism was a huge part of her character and I think that should stay. The main problem I think personally was her not properly learning better ways to get people to listen to her ideas.
My Sam-Klemper and Frostbite could remake all the polar ice caps, Lunch Lady could end world hunger and Sidney could straighten out the school system and how they tackle bullying!
My Sam's on the more immature, impulsive side and tends to dive head first into stuff. She doesn't take herself as seriously and like any kid doesn't always think things through. She'd be far more open to haunting pranks and goof around, doing crazy stuff.
I'm keeping her stubborn impulsive side. She's known for biting off more than she can chew and getting WAY ahead of herself in stuff, usually winding up into as well as cause some crazy trouble.
Overall she still has Sam's passion and care, I just also made her not as serious and more relaxed, open and unafraid to show how much she enjoys stuff, not caring if other people like it or not.
Facts:
Definetley keeping Grey DeLisle
Abilities-HUGE horror expert, huge occult expert, knowledge in nature stuff, chaotic smiling friends level energy, athleticism, agile, good fighter, knows self-defense, strong, creative, resourceful, confident, very motivated, comfortable with her own company, knows some natural medicines, good at sewing, cooking, can play the piano, ball dance, knows some ballet, multilingualism-knows Japanese(learned it so she can watch anime that don't have Eng Dub or Sub), likes to stay hopeful and never gives up for what's right!
Weaknesses- Reckless, stubborn, impulsive, tends to get WAY ahead of herself, has trouble talking about feelings, can be uintentionally insensitive, blunt, has trouble connecting with people, doesn't always think things through and tends to distract herself and get lost in her own world in order to avoid having to deal with her feelings and issues.
I see Sam make DIY horror themed art from recycled objects. Waste not want not.
Goes ALL out for Halloween🎃
Calls herself "gremlin" 😈 Has also been called "batgirl"🦇
Knows how to write in cursive.
Would LOVE stuff such as Ruby Gloom, TOH, Amphibia, Smiling Friends, Dead End:Paranormal Park, Final Space, TGAMG, Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss, etc.
Owns a sewing machine. Knows how to sew and knit. Perhaps learned from her grandma.
I can see half of her decor and stuff be made from recycled stuff she created herself.
Totally runs like Naruto.
Likes- A good chunk of what OG Sam liked, LOVES GHOSTS, hanging with Danny and Tucker, her grandma, when her parents aren't overbearing, Mother Nature, stormy weather, cult classics, night, stars, horror stuff, horror stories and media, animation, art, books, parkour, drawing, indie projects, webcomics, animals, conspiracy theories, testing out Tucker's inventions, stargazing with Danny, magic, bats, lizards, amphibians, insects and spiders, anything creepy, slime, classical literature, poems, the dark, thrift stores, explosions, antique and vintage stuff and people accepting her for who she is.
Fav animal-Bats🦇
Dislikes-Pink, bright colors, bright lights, brightness, Prep fashion, oversaturated colors, her parents, usually her mom trying to make her wear cheerier, gender rules, discrimination, injustice, ghost hate, bad reboots, when industries cancel good shows, toxic fake people, people trying to use her, especially for her money, Twilight(she HATES their portrayal of the supernatural, especially vampires and overall problematic messages. Sam- SOMEHOW THEY RUINED VAMPIRES MORE THAN VLAD DOES!, THE MAN!, pollution, NFTS, her parents trying to make her look "happier", ignorance, prejudice, being told how to be, being lied to and people trying to change her.
Writes fanfiction and does fanart✍️
Is VERY aware of Creepypasta.
Likes to do volunteer work.
I see her love vintage, antique stuff. For the aesthetic and cause its eco friendlier to use something that can still work than just buy something new. Wears alot of her grandma's old clothes👚👕
Sam has a YouTube channel. “Amity’s#1_Ghost_Girl💜👻💜”, and started a series, “The Ghosts of Amity Park👻” talking about all the ghosts that have been in Amity Park as well as their backstories. She also likes to talk about Cryptids and other horror stuff besides ghosts(urban legend, mythological creatures, you name it). It’s gotten a lot of subscribers lately because of all the latest ghost appearances. She even got Danny Phantom himself to do a Live Q&A chat. Paulina was SPEECHLESS! She also does some horror show/movie/book reviews, DIY art and decor vids, memes, Eco-friendly life hacks and tips as well as some yummy vegetarian and horror themed recipes. Also has a tumblr, insta, DA, Twitter and TikTok.
What do u think? How would u rewrite Sam? I'd love to know💖
#danny phantom#sam manson#dp sam#sam#danny phantom rewrite#dp rewrite#sam rewrite#sam manson rewrite
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A good Sam rewrite arc is her going through the realization that she doesn’t hate femininity so much as she resents the idea of femininity that her parents are trying to force on her and just massively overcorrects. Goth aesthetic can either be hyper feminine or totally opposite and she learns to appreciate both sides of that. And yes obviously this is her she/they awakening. I don’t make the rules.
#danny phantom#sam manson#i will rewrite her my goddamn self#2022 sam manson would have a problem with gender norms in general
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It only makes sense that I do Sam and Tucker next
Guys art hack if you struggle with skin tones use the Flesh Cloud I’ve used it every single time I’ve done a dp redesign
I based Sam loosely off my really good friend because she’s goth and I just thought to myself “would she wear this?????????” and I kinda just gave Tucker every design aspect that makes me happy bc I really like him like man I have to physically restrain myself from giving everyone a tooth gap and boots
#Danny Phantom#sam manson#tucker foley#dp redesign#dp rewrite#art#digital art#character design#gravewalking au#finchs dp
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New semiserious DP rewrite idea:
we keep the jokes people make about Sam & Danny obviously being in love with each other. But make it a plot twist where they genuinely don't feel that way about each other and it's starting to really get annoying but Sam gradually gets a crush on Tucker and she ignores it at first because it's the "he's so annoying 😡" <(angry blushing) kinda crush.
Meanwhile Tucker's bought into the school gossip of Danny and Sam "secretly" having feelings for each other and trying to be a good wingman while having a crush on Sam.
And then Danny eventually finding out about both of their crushes and is like: "playing at being the wingman for my wingmen; as the universe intended" 😌✨
But it's chalk full of shenanigans because Sam's trying really hard to deny it she Tucker is trying his best to be a good bro(tm)
Hilarious teen brand miscommunication.
#veggie burger#technobats#danny phantom#sam manson#tucker foley#danny fenton#my thoughts#rewrite thoughts
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Day 1 - canon rewrite
If there was ever an episode that I would want to be rewritten in a magical sense, it has to be Urban Jungle. Simply because the idea of Sam being able to control plants just does something extra for me. Let her be Goth Poison Ivy, okay? But the idea here is that after the episode, Undergrowth didn't give Sam powers but woke some dormant magic type of thing and when Danny defeated him he took Sam with him into the ghost zone, leading Danny and co. to have to find her, only to find her having built herself a kingdom of plants protected by a wall of blood blossom's.
Or something like that... I don't know.
But I guess you could take this as a prequal to my Danny May Ghost King piece. I suppose the story would fit somewhat?
#Danny Phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#plant sam#PhantasyPhest2022#day 1#Canon Rewrite#Urban Jungle#Blood Blossom#phandom#phanart#fanart#digital art#My Art
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Yo! I have actually managed to get a whole fucking comic out for Phantasy Phest, believe it or not. This Fantasy AU is basically gonna be the basis for the entire week so more content coming up? The Grim Reaper style person is an OC, They’ll get more info later. Because my handwriting kinda ass, I’ll just type out the transcript below.
Danny: GUYS! I think I’m gonna die, I keep seeing the Grim Reaper everywhere
OC: Stay behind, we must talk
Danny: I’ll see you guys later then?
OC: There are 3 different realms, Magic Realm (highest energy), Ghost Zone (middle) and the Human Realm (lowest energy). It’s less energy consuming to pass between the lower energy realms than it is for the higher energy realms. Think of it as like the energy levels for atomic chemistry, it’s the same concept.
OC: The Magic Realm has gods, demons, myths and spiritual being, The Ghost Zone has the ghosts, undead and less powerful spirits, The Human Realm has humans, flora and fauna.
OC: When your (Danny) dumb ass was getting fried, your natural energy combined with the portal’s energy to try to save you. It was 80% successful so I figured might as well give you a shot and saved you by adding the remaining 20% of your energy with my blessing. So WORSHIP ME!
Ok so y’all basically in this AU this OC is like one of the main gods of death’s servants so they go around reaping and collecting souls. They have the power to change the fate of souls as well, so with Danny’s they blessed him which stabilized his core and made him a halfa without frying him to death. OC is now expecting Danny to worship him as they’ve taken god status to Danny by saving him. Danny now has a mix of ghost and reaper powers which will be elaborated later!
#PhantasyPhest2022#day1:canon rewrite#day6: magical ghost zone#yeah this au really just covers most of the phantasy phest#danny phantom#daniel fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#jazz fenton#fantasy au#fanart
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Danny Phantom but make it a 5 Man Band
Purely literary theory, but if one was to remake Danny Phantom with a new, more character and plot driven story and less one-off comedy episodes with little to no character development carried on between episodes, this is the 5-Mand Band of Team Phantom that I, personally, would like to see.
Leader: Danny.
Not even by default or because his name is the show’s name, Danny has the abilities and knowledge to lead, even had a whole episode about being a leader. He knows what he’s doing and knows his teams abilities and weaknesses. He knows he can count on Sam and Tucker to help, but also knows their limits as normal, non-superpowered humans with stolen technology and limited physical training.
Lancer: Sam.
She is at constant odds with Danny and tries to direct the team the way she wants. She complements his personality, sharing his desire to help others but turned up to eleven. She pushes him to do better and be a better person, but needs to be put in her place sometimes because they’re Danny’s powers not hers so he needs to be the one to choose how to use them.
Smart Guy: Tucker
Obviously, technologically smart and acts as support for Danny, not much else to say, he’s sweet and simple.
Big Guy: Valerie
She is canonically the most powerful and competent ghost hunter in the world, if she’s not the hardest hitter on the team it’s only because Danny’s OP.
Heart: Jazz
Now, one might try to argue that Sam should be the heart because it was originally called “The Girl” and she’s “The Girl” in canon. However, if the team had been allowed to expand in canon, Jazz would have been the moral center. It’s her life goal to be the most helpful person she can be and treat people seen “evil” with nuance and respect; she want’s to help villains and criminals reform and become better people. Sam sees the world in black and white, good guys and bad guys, but Jazz has a better more nuanced morality that makes her a better fit for the role of The Heart.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker are the core trio, the primary friends for good banter and a stable starting point. Then with Valerie and Jazz joining the team later in the story to make up for their deficiencies: 1) Danny needs someone physically strong enough to help take on the bigger baddies, and 2) the whole team needs someone to guide them away from black-and-white morality.
While I do accept that any of the three ladies could possible work in any of each others roles (you could even toss a Dani in any of those slots and I'd accept it), this is just my personal preference.
#danny phantom#rewrite prompt#analysis#character analysis#five man band au#trope#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#valerie grey#jazz fenton#danny phantom au
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How would u rewrite Sam?
Well shit man you already saw my redesign lmao
Nah but seriously? There are 3 things i would change. 1 being her n tuck overlooked as much, 2 being used as a joke n stepping stone for danny, 3 I want her to really step into her characters history and development (cause redemption arcs are the bomb yes?), and 4 my personal headcanons of course.
~~~
1-the og trio
Ah yes, the three amigos, three peas in a pod, the three musketeers. Danny, Tucker, and Sam. They are my favorite characters to read about and personally? i ship them as poly, but thats the phanon trio. The canon trio aren't as defined as the phandom makes them out to be. Danny throughout the show is consistently a bamf, but he also kinda glances over his friends (just how many episodes had vital plot point being him taking advantage of his friends or having them take the downfall?) I would put Sam and Tucker in a much more prevalent role and really write out who they are as characters. We do of course have some already, from Tuck's Egyptian counterpart to Sam's dragon and plant forms, but we need to see them more as who they are. Just how many times can Tucker hack the government before he has to turn down plans cause he has a court hearing? How many protests can Sam drag the other two along to before they can quote the Miranda Rights by heart? What abandoned buildings do they explore outside of ghosty business (cause what Midwestern teen hasnt explored a corpse of a house)? Where do they dance to the latest underground music that matches dumpty humpty in feels? Give me their teenage shenanigans and who they are outside of ghosts.
2-the jokes
Sam is a really cool character to begin with; she's persistant and head strong, fights for her beliefs and friends, and she stands out in her town of Amity Park as one of the alt kids. Growing up she was an inspiration to kids like me who had nothing but the monotonous life that exists in Illinois, and it wasnt until i was older when i realized she was kinda made into a joke at some points. Namely being the ultra-recyclo-terian lifestyle in canon she has. Which is great, but at some point you gotta draw a line. She's been made a gimmick, something for people to laugh at cause she's basically vegan and that makes her different, more so than her outfits and pov from a money standpoint. Because the characters in the show brush her off, we pick up that being vegan is weird and not right but not left either. Its just, its setting a bad example for how we treat people who eat differently than the American standard. It dont matter what you eat at the end of the day. The writers kinda made it a part of her personality even though its not that big of a deal. Idk methinks that should be rewritten Heavily™️
3-who even Is Sam
Well, like i said earlier, she a headstrong, loyal to a fault, stubborn, goth character for better and for worse. Her character development was a good start. I liked how she was able to eventually reach a tenable toleration of the other characters like Paulina and Valerie (if im remembering correctly?). I liked how she was someone for kids to see and have in the back of their minds as someone to be like. However, parts of her character gets forgotten about too often; like she's jewish. Thats fucking cool as fuck. And when do they mention it? Offhandedly in a christmas episode, and the singular time we hear her grandmother say her nickname. Fuck it, I want her to celebrate Sukkot near halloween. I want to hear about the shenanigans that came with her bat mitzvah celebrations. What about Passover? What does she think of her relatives when they come over for The Good Food that comes with their feast after memoriam? Give me more jewish rep in general, but especially for Sam.
Aside from that, she needs more development in general. She was awesome to watch and even cooler when she ended up dating Danny at the end there, but she did Not receive nearly as much backlash for her choices as other did. Shes pretty hypocritical, and at the beginning thought herself much higher than the other characters. She did eventually cool down a bit but methinks she deserved a bit more arc there. Why didnt her and jazz have a verbal match in Girls Night Out, when Sam said Jazz didnt know how to handle ghosts? Why didnt her european conquest get brought up more after the fact, for teasing or for reasons why they shouldnt do X bad idea? Why was her narrative foil vilified for her femininity, and Sam's "not like the others" stereotype upheld for being better? She had faults, her character as written and her choices as played out. These faults werent emphasized nearly as much as they shoulda been.
4-personal headcannons
There are many things i like that the phandom itself has come up with, from the whole "ghosty weed parent means ghosty weed sam" to her eventual flower shop in amity park; dont forget her polycule of idiots, be that the trio or defect quartet. There are the big things like where she ends up in early adulthood, to smaller things like her favorite coffee being from a cat cafe she had exactly one (1) time, but there are things the phandom hasn't come up with, or at least not to my knowledge. (If you saw my character redesign, you might know whats coming)
Have you thought of punk Sam, instead of goth? What about wanderer Sam? What about a crustpunk trainhopping Sam, who rallies protestors in cities with corrupt police, who swigs bootheel moonshine she got from a rural grandma, who dances jigs in the Appalachias, who traveled when the ghosts finally calmed down a bit? Just imagine a Sam that has such a huge social media presence but is also a figurative ghost cause the average person cant travel like she does; there are communities out there who follow her and assumes she's a cryptid who's had it up to here with humanity (and these people don't even know about the Ghosts, the real ones).
I think she likes tattoos better than piercings cause a continuous steady burn is easier to sit through than a spike of metal. I think she despises kudzu (the plant) and sets it on fire if she sees a patch of it (controlled burning for local wildlife). I think she carries a small mossball from the early 2000s thats somehow still alive even tho shes forgotten and lost it twelve times over. I think, before she left for the rails, when her ma would drag her to dinner parties, she would talk the talk and walk the walk til the very end of the night, then she would call out the host on their latest exploitation and tell them the recordings she got at the party would be sold to the highest bidder in the morning. I think she'd bring home a stray kitten she found and name it fy, the yiddish word for fuck. I think she'd make hot vanilla instead of hot chocolate (fr tho if anyone needs a hot vanilla recipe i gotchu just hmu).
When interacting with teachers, she'd be the favorite until you got to history class; you'd leave that class with more understanding of how horrible america has been than you would ever think was possible in Illinois. The English department loves her and her takes on classics ("why read to kill a mockingbird and get a white savior complex when you could read the hate you give and get a much more realistic and accurate look at racism in modern america? Racism never died, so read the stuff you find more relatable. Also atticus Sucked Ass ™️").
Shes a morning person sure, but also a gym rat; shes there at 4am, running a mile and rowing for an hour while chugging orange juice and green supplements and youre in bed sleeping. She says hello to the entryway even if no ones there to hear it, she says not today to the hallway closet, she knocks twice on her window cause that's her routine when she gets home from school.
Theres so many small bits n bobs that i have for her i forget them right now. Overall shes an awesome character, just needs some touching ups. (Also i hope this is coherent for you, I've been at work since noon and got off just before midnight, sorry if it isnt ill edit in the morning :) )
What about yall? How would you rewrite her?
#sam manson#danny phantom#character rewrite#fanfiction#woulda should coulda ya know#defect quartet#weirdshc
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Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Danny Phantom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, OMC/OMC/OMC, OMC/OMC, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton
Characters: Danny Fenton, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Original Male Character(s), Jazz Fenton, Toby Lumano, Valdan Lumano
Additional Tags: rewrite time babes, no betas we die like Danny, lots of fun gays from my catelogue of mostly unplayed dnd player characters, high energy ectoplasm means evolving beyond a 20 level limit, semi responsible adults, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Season/Series 03, the Fenton's A+ Parenting, off screen murder, Discussions of the Afterlife
Summary:
The crew of the Rose Pheonix, a spell jammer that's ventured perhaps further from its planar system of origin than first intended, winds up getting involved in the affairs of one 15-year-old Danny Fenton and his friends. Watch as chaotic men with ridiculous powers attempt to help this chaotic teenaged mess with ridiculous power.
I felt that @floralflowerpower should be the first to hear that I have decided to post chapter 1 of my wonderful rewrite, so enjoy my friend.
It was a bright summer day in Amity Park, Danny Fenton was in the grove - no one wanted to say “Amity Park Park” - doing a handstand while braced against a tree.
“See? I told you I could do it.”
“You’re not using your powers to float into that position, are you?”
“Sam, I am offended that you would imply that I, of all people, would cheat at things with levitation.” Danny laughed, flopping down onto his belly in the grass. “Appalled, really, how dare you?”
Laughing, Tucker ripped up a handful of grass from his side and sprinkled it down into Danny’s bird’s nest of hair.
“No, of course, you are the most noble in character there is. As we have seen, you are a superhero through and through. Complete with bedsheet cape.”
Danny groaned while his friends laughed and shook his head. “Alright, listen.”
“You, wearing black and white alone, looked at me and asked if I was willing to wear bright primary colors, Danny.”
Sam patted his shoulder blade and Danny rolled his eyes.
“A ghost asked a goth to wear bright colors. You shall never live that down.”
“There are pastel goths,” Danny countered with a pout. “I checked, there are goths who wear bright colors. It’s a mindset, not a fashion statement.” Tucker draped yet more grass on Danny, who turned to stare at his best friend and deadpanned, “Dude that’s kinda gay.”
Tucker snorted and laughed himself back into the tree they were sitting in front of. “H-how exactly is that gay?”
“Grass, in flower language, represents homosexual love,” Sam supplied.
Tucker covered his heart with a hand and gasped loudly.
“Oh goodness me, I, a bisexual nerd, cannot be gay good sir and madam, that is simply unacceptable. Truly, this is the end of my world.”
“I will write you a gorgeous eulogy seasoned with memes,” Danny said, patting Tucker’s thigh as the latter flopped over, putting on his best ‘dying’ act.
A chill completely at odds with the summer sun shining down on them went up his spine and out of his mouth as a cloud of icy mist.
“Shit.”
Danny braced for impact, a dome of green light erecting itself over the teens just in time for five missiles to strike it and explode.
When the smoke cleared and Danny transformed in a flash of light – pale skin tan, snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, black and white jumpsuit, all the staples of half-dead teendom – Danny locked on to his attacker. A large, mechanized man with flaming green mohawk was grinning down at him like a predator baring teeth to prey.
“You’ll have to survive to his funeral first, whelp, and I assure you that’s not happening. I’ve gotten a few upgrades since last we fought, and The Hunt is on.”
While Skulker popped out a new cannon, Danny turned to check on his friends, both of whom were pulling out their own Fenton ecto-pistols.
When he turned back there was an explosion of golden light and the screeching of tearing metal, and Skulker was missing half of his mech before Danny could even quip at him. Danny dropped his shield, turning to stare at the source of light with everyone else, and found his jaw had dropped very literally to the ground.
Something that could be a bear mixed with a goat, an electric eel, and at least three kinds of birds was aiming a bow at Skulker, an arrow made of golden light already knocked and shining brighter with every second. Each feather was a different color, oscillating in intensity, but overall, it was both hard to look at and impossible to look away from.
“Hi there,” the ghost said with a voice that could have been a thousand people speaking in tandem. “You are going to leave in the next five seconds, or I am going to traumatize these children by showing them just how one Ends a ghost. Four. Three.”
Danny had never seen Skulker fly away so fast, especially with only one turbine to boost himself. He couldn’t even blame him, not with the burning fountain of energy beating their kaleidoscopic wings in front of him, aiming at Skulker until buildings were in the way. Danny charged up an ectoblast of his own even as the arrow dissipated.
“Well, that was impressive. I’ve never seen anyone make Skulker experience common sense before. Who are you, exactly?”
“I’m Toby. You alright, kid?”
The ghost turned to Danny and all the animal features melted into each other until Danny was looking at what could almost pass for a regular human being. Blond hair, brown eyes, some weird old-timey robes, and a single pair of feathery wings that reflected the light catching them like crystal glass.
In the next moment, Danny was being dragged into a tight embrace, cut off from the world by arms and feathers alike, and he blinked several times, tense as a bowstring.
“I’m gonna need you to back up before I zap you,” Danny said with his hands up and a buzz traveling from his chest toward his fingertips.
The ghost backed up, hands held up where everyone could see them, and wings half folded around him like a cloak.
“Apologies, my response to seeing kids almost getting hurt is to hug them. I should’ve asked first.”
“That’s very true,” Sam said with narrowed eyes. “Who are you, exactly?”
“Yeah, we don’t get many new ghosts around here who know how to speak English,” Tucker said. “Or any who help us.”
The strangely human-looking ghost took a deep breath, eyes glowing from brown to golden-orange, and clasped their hands together in front of their face.
“Well, that explains a few things I’ve observed of you in the past two minutes. Right, so, first thing’s first; hi, you kids can call me Toby Lumano. He/him and all that.”
Danny shook the hand extended to him, ignoring the fact that a hand was held out to all three of them. “Danny, Phantom currently.”
“Tucker Foley, genius and future multi-millionaire.”
“Sam Manson. What exactly did you observe of us?”
“Well, most children back where I come from don’t have deadly weapons on them at all times, and I assume that whatever that gun is, it’s dangerous if not deadly.”
Tucker arched a brow, the grip he had on his pistol loose.
“I’m impressed that you know what a gun is. You look like you’re from a history book - or maybe a religious one.”
Toby snorted and laughed, his wings glimmering like a sea of rainbows woven together rather than feathers. He has to right himself after tilting back a bit, like how a laughing fit can send Danny literally spiraling away in his ghost form.
“I mean, I’m sure I’m in some religious text but I highly doubt it’d be in this world. I’m not exactly from this Realm after all. But yeah, my… aunt? My in-law, let’s call her that cause I lost track, she invented guns in our world.”
“That must make for some awkward family reunions.”
“That is, possibly, the least awkward thing that could come up with a family dinner, actually.
“Anyway, I also see that you, Danny, have the most intense ‘fight me’ aura I’ve ever seen. If all you’ve ever met are hostile adult ghosts then that makes sense.”
Toby tilted his head, wings unfurling just a bit as he raised a hand to his chin.
“You’ve got that Still Warm feel to you, like you’re only recently dead. Which makes the rumors about you impossible, of course, cause I’m pretty sure none of you are even close to being adult humans unless people look a lot younger per quarter of their life in this Realm.”
Danny shook his head, looking around to see if anyone had come close enough to watch them, and in a wave of light morphed back into his human self. He gestured at himself with a grin and a wave.
“I’m gonna assume the rumors you heard were about me being half ghost, and they’re true.”
“I’m sorry: auras are real? I thought that was just some nonsense that hippies made up.”
“Tucker, we deal with ghosts and magic and shit, please don’t be so surprised. Auras as a concept are older than the 1970s, by the way.”
Toby chuckled and shook his head, the ghostly light wrapped around his form spreading out to cover them all. The air was fresher, filled with the scent of wildflowers and decomposing leaves, green things growing from dead things. Danny swore he tasted cranberries, and watched as flowers grew and blossomed under Toby’s feet.
The honey-gold and leaf-green light retreated back to outline Toby and Danny reached out to grab it.
“That, my little chicks, is what we call an aura. The light that comes off of a ghost and usually makes you feel some kind of disturbed? That’s the outer layer of their being, expressing themself upon everyone their light touches. Honestly, I’m surprised that you don’t know that, how long have you been liminal?”
“How long have I been what now?”
Danny shook himself all over, trying to decide how he felt about Toby’s aura shoving feelings all over him.
“I think he’s talking about you being half ghost.”
Tucker whipped out his PDA, tapping away at the screen a bit before looking back up at Toby.
“We’ve never actually heard a term for it before other than Sidney Poindexter calling Danny a halfa. No offense to Poindexter but that’s a really dumb name.”
“Yeah, ‘half a ghost half a boy’ is a pretty weird way to put things, like humans can only be boys and everyone else is a ghost.”
“Well, where I come from it’s called plane-touched, and we’re a bit more varied than just being part ghost. I’ve gotta say, the only other kind of plane-touched I know about that can change their whole look like that on command are Aasimar like me. You give me vibes similar to my husband though.”
“As much as I’d love to go into detail about all of this, We should probably take this discussion somewhere a bit more private than the open park,” Sam hissed. “This is supposed to be a secret, remember Danny?”
“There’s nobody nearby, Sam, I checked before morphing.”
“I don’t see a morpher or a zord, Danny.”
“Well, if you’re keeping this a secret then yeah, you should probably find somewhere secure to talk about this at.”
Toby reached into his pocket and produced an amber stone embedded in a copper ring. He handed it to Sam with a smile.
“When you feel like you’ve got a private enough area, just tap that twice and when it glows, speak into it. I’ll hear you, and I can come to talk with you again then. For now, I’ve got some things to figure out around here.”
Toby winked and unfurled his wings, vanishing from sight with a single beat.
“We have murdering to do.”
Cole turned around to see his husband touching down on the deck of the ship, his wings ablaze with bloody fire, and let the cloud he was making dissipate. In just a few steps he was wrapping Toby up in his arms, unflinching at the heat of wings draped over his shoulders and back.
“Who we killin and why?”
Toby took a moment to breathe in the cool breeze and sharp aftertaste of lightning that wafted off of Cole, letting himself relax ever so slightly.
He pulled back and looked at Cole, then Duncan and Leico who were also on the deck of the ship. Toby sighed and leaned on Cole, who rubbed his back right between his wings.
“Right, there was, I think, a war forged around here who fired a bunch of explosives at a child! You know that plane-touched kid Valdan told us about?”
“Oh right, we’re rare in this realm, huh?”
Cole’s face scrunched up in confusion, his hair a bundle of grey-white clouds that spilled off of him and into the ether and he arched a brow.
“I thought the Plane-touched around here beat up the tyrant ruling the place when he woke up?”
"I didn’t exactly ask about what must’ve sucked when I half blew up the metalhead.”
Toby groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing up and off of Cole to stand properly.
“Now, we have to track the bastard down.”
“I’m surprised you let him escape you, rather than just chasing him out of the kid’s sight and ripping him apart there.”
“Tempting as that sounds, Duncan, I’m sure Toby was a bit more preoccupied with making sure the kid was ok. Was he?”
Toby nodded, offering Leico a thumbs up.
“Not a scratch on the kid, he was ready to blast me when I turned down the whole, ya know, angel thing.”
“Oh, you mean the thing where you transform into a horrifying amalgam of beasts that is also in part a frequency of light? Gosh, I can’t imagine why the kid would be scared of that.”
Cole snapped his fingers and orange water rained down onto the horned gunman. He glowered and steam rose from his body, horns glowing a far more vibrant orange than the water.
“Anyway, the kid has a couple of human friends who are in the know but they made it clear that his status as plane-touched - or liminal, I guess is what the locals are calling it - is a secret. Now, who here knows a bunch about the soul and wants to come with me when the kids call for answers?”
“I’d say Valdan knows more about the soul than I do, he did a lot of necromantic research to try and figure out how to restore a soul. Actually, where is he?”
“He’s with Apo, looking for a library anywhere nearby in this endless green ocean. Don’t give me that look, The Pheonix is keeping track of them for thousands of miles.”
Leico sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a count of 10, he shoo’d Duncan in Toby’s direction.
“You two go hunt down that war forged, I’m sure you’d love to bring back the parts for study. I’ll be here, making sure David eats and comes out of his workshop.”
“How many times do we have to tell you that it’s called a laboratory?”
“As many as it takes for your reaction to stop being funny.”
After having a small debate about where they couldn’t go and why, team Phantom finally ended up at the indoor roller rink that was partially destroyed by a giant ghost crab a while ago, and sat down at a table that Danny cleared of debris with an ectoblast or three.
“Ok guys, I think this is a good enough place to call him up.”
“Are we sure it’s a good idea to call him at all?”
Sam held up the ring she’d kept in her pocket, turning it about and tracing the odd symbols etched into the outside and inside of it.
“He took down Skulker pretty fast and it usually takes you a good half hour to do that, Danny.”
“Skulker specializes in attacking Danny is all, Sam. We’ve got the weapons to handle pretty much any ghost we normally deal with, and Danny took down the king of ghosts. I’m pretty sure he can handle anyone else.”
“Plus, Toby wrecked Skulker pretty bad. If he wanted to fight, I’m pretty sure he would’ve started a fight.”
Danny condensed his ectoblasts into one ball of ectoplasma and stretched it out into a pole.
“Imagine all the cool stuff he could show us!”
Sam shrugged, turning the ring around in her fingers again.
“Shockingly, you make a solid argument. Alright, I guess, let’s see what he has to say. You ready to take notes, Tuck?”
“Got my camera and mic ready, I’ll transcribe later.”
Nodding, Sam tapped the ring’s gem and watched a pink light shine within the amber.
“Hey, Toby, we’re ready for some answers.”
For a couple of moments, nothing happened and Sam wondered if there was a connection issue between Earth and the Ghost Zone.
Then the sound of wingbeats filled the room and Toby appeared above the rink as though landing from a long flight, another man in his grasp that landed solidly on the ground when he let go.
“I’m not used to casting that multiple times in the same day, that’s kind of a rush. And nauseating. Hi kids!”
Toby waved while the other man dusted off his long, studded leather coat, patting himself down slowly and turning to flick Toby behind the ear.
“A warning would be much appreciated, feather duster. Those books better be in good condition when I get back to them or you will be fighting the librarian for me. Are these the kids?”
“We fight ghosts literally all the time, I’d say we’re a bit more than just kids. Who’s this?”
“Is he single?” Tucker did his best to muffle the grunt that came with Danny’s elbow digging into his side. “What, valid question.”
The blond in the coat, face covered in freckles and eyes a dark green, bowed at the waist with a flourish of his hand and rose with a grin.
“The name’s Valdan, and to answer the quickest question first,: married, yes. This idiot that can’t decide what animal he is happens to be my cousin in law, and he tells me you might have questions for me about the soul and ectoplasm and ghosts. Why exactly he went to me, I can’t say.”
“You’re practically a necromancer with all the theory you’ve dug into.”
“Call me that again and I’ll be frying your wings in oil. Wonder how they’d taste?”
“Poisonous, I’m sure. Anyway, Danny, Sam, and Tucker right? Cool. Hi.”
Danny snorted and shook his head. He waved at the odd pair and arched a brow.
“There’s so many questions to ask.”
“I’ve got one to start us with: What do you mean spell, exactly? Do ghosts have magic ontop of the other ghost powers now?”
“Anyone who can do magic keeps the ability in death, usually. I’m not dead though, I’m Deathless.”
“Debatable, but that’s how local spirits call him and his hubby. The deathless are - to generalize, ghosts - that were simply born that way by way of ghost parents. That’s not how you happened, though, is it?”
“No,” Sam said, gesturing at Danny. “This is a recent thing, it’s been since about… March of last year, so 14 months.”
“Yeah, god, we’ve been doing this for over a year now, haven’t we?”
Tucker slumped a bit in his seat and sighed.
“Feels like it’s been like this forever and like it happened yesterday.”
Toby stared at them all like they’d each grown extra limbs in odd places – Danny even checked to make sure he hadn’t done that while feeling both old and young at the same time due to how little time had actually passed – before zipping over to Danny and holding his hands just over the teen’s face.
“Oh my gods, you’re a baby.”
Danny gently pulled Toby’s hands away from his face, a brow raised.
“I am a teenager, thank you. What, is 14 infantile to angels, feather man?”
“You’re only 14 months dead, Danny, that makes you a baby ghost.”
Laughter filled the rink. A snap of Toby’s fingers and flowers began growing in Tucker’s hat, and seeds appeared above Sam, growing into flowers as they fell all over her. Valdan stumbled backward in the face of a powerful breeze.
“If you’ve had regular interactions with that metal head, no wonder your aura’s all aggro.”
“Skulker’s not exactly the worst of the ghosts we’ve had to fight over the months,” Danny said.
“Oh yeah, that’d have to be either Walker, Spectra, or Vlad. It’s really a toss up between Spectra and Vlad, if you ask me.”
“Vlad wants to kill Danny’s dad because he sees his mom as a trophy that was stolen from him, while Spectra tried to kill Jazz just to depress an entire school so she could feed on the misery to look young.”
Sam brushed away the flowers and weighed two in her hands.
“Yeah, those around the same level of grossly evil.”
Toby’s wings ignited at some point while Sam was talking, and the sunlight streaming in from the hole in the roof grew somewhat brighter.
From his belt Valdan produced a throwing knife that he flipped in the air before chucking it into the railing behind him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a book and a pen, his smile all teeth.
“Tell me, please, a list of all the adult ghosts who have attacked you, children? I’d like to have a discussion with each of them.”
“If we give you their names, do you promise not to go slaughtering them all? I don’t need to know ghostly body language at all to know that flaming wings come from a place of anger and imminent violence.”
“There’s also the knife buried to the hilt in metal, I’d say there’s that too.”
“When did you read a thesaurus, Danny?”
“Sam, I’m insulted: I know tri-syllabic words. I can even say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Valdan took a deep breath in through his nose, held it a beat, and let it out of his mouth.
“I promise not to slaughter all of the ghosts you inform me hurt you in the past few months, yes. Names?”
When Tucker listed off names, Valdan wrote them down with an inhuman speed, and Danny exchanged a look with Sam, worried about how exactly that deal might be loopholed around.
“Right,” Toby chirped while Valdan slammed his book shut, “I’m here to answer some questions of yours, not just ramble about myself and assemble a… list of people to talk to. Got any?”
“So many that I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, before you do start lemme say that our crew has only been here for like, a week or three, on our little voyage into the infinite unknown. I’ve been feeling kinda different since we got here, honestly, and my wings bursting into flame with my anger is… different to say the least. So, some of my answers may not exactly apply to your Realm.”
“Which is why I’m here, because unlike some people, I like to go out, make some friends, learn things about the local after lives. I’ve done enough research that I believe I may be able to answer some of your questions.”
“Hm, well, you mentioned a husband a while back, Toby. Tell me more about queer ghost history.”
“Right, see that’s one of the things I meant. I have no idea about the history of uh queer relationships in your Zone. Back home nobody really had any problems with it, but back home people were too scared of Cole to really voice their objections about some pretty basic social things.”
“Like?”
“Well, Tucker, Cole doesn’t like to wear clothes. Recently, after traveling through all the charged ectoplasm to get in your general area, he’s learned how to turn his lower half into a cloudy tail thing. Yeah, like that,” he said, waving at Danny when he turned his own legs into a tail. “And so he compromises by doing that. Sometimes."
Danny blinked a few times before clearing his throat.
“Will I age normally?”
His voice was quieter, smaller, than it was when Toby had first encountered the teens. The druid’s face softened ever so slightly and he shrugged.
“Well, if you’re half human like I think you are then you’ll probably age the way I did. Up to physical adulthood and then you’ll stop, or at least slow down so much that it feels like you stopped. Mom won’t tell me if I’m actually aging anymore or if I’m just like this forever.”
“Is your mom liminal too? I guess you’d be more a quarter ghost than half if she was.”
Tucker tapped his chin in consideration and Toby chuckled, shaking his head.
“Ma is the god of the forest I was born in, and Mom is her archdruid. Well,” Toby shrugged, pointing at himself, “one of her archdruids.”
“Archdruid, like in dungeons and dragons?”
“I… feel like you’re referring to something specific in your world, Tucker, so I can’t say for sure. Druids like myself revere, protect, and draw our magical power from nature. We understand that there is no true divide between sapient beings and the rest of nature. And so, we do things like this.”
Just slow enough that they could see it but faster than any of the teens could process, Toby transformed into an owl and flew silently around the room in a circle. They all watched him fly in awe, Danny shocked that even he couldn’t really hear the clearly visible beating of Toby’s wings, and when he landed and reverted to his original form, they all clapped.
“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here who knows how long. Anymore questions?”
“Uh, well. This one’s kinda heavier than I usually get, since I’m usually floating.”
Toby snorted and Sam groaned, rolling her eyes.
“What happens when the other half dies? Actually, will I really ever go all the way?”
Toby winced, his wing rising up to partially hide his face. He winced again, lowering his wing, and shrugged.
“Right, uh, I’m an Aasimar, and I never quite died, so I can’t say that I ever died. Valdan?”
Valdan had retrieved his knife
“There’s not much on Liminals in your neighborhood of the Infinite Realm, but as far as I’ve read from the Far Frozen people’s library… Well, you said that being liminal is a new thing for you, which I can only assume to mean that you died somehow.”
Plants of all kinds grew in the cracks of the walls and floor, forcing them even wider open, and something in the air felt distinctly angry to Danny for a second. Valdan paid the plant growth no mind.
“I’ve heard rumors that you beat the high king of your Ghost Zone, which means you’re incredibly powerful for being a toddler, and you’ve never experienced any sickness related to being liminal?”
Danny shook his head. “No, but Vlad did.”
“Then that means that your ghost is so intricately connected with your material body that both will likely sustain the other ad infinitum. You’ll probably be like Toby and just stop aging once you hit your prime.”
Toby deflated a bit, the glow from his wings dimming and the colors leaning toward blue and purple.
“Age is the culprit for most deaths that aren’t murder.”
“And … if I do get murdered?”
“Then I steal some diamonds and resurrect you, but for the point you’re asking about: Aasimar go to whatever outer plane their patron is from - in my case, I’d be pulled to Arborea if I was successfully murdered.”
He snorted at that, shaking his head.
“Genasi like Cole and I think Teiflings get processed through the court of the Dread Queen to decide where their souls go much like everyone else in my planar system. You’ll most likely just be a full on ghost if you get murdered.”
“Ok, sorry, I know we’re talking about dead serious business here.”
Tucker accepted Danny’s high five and the shove from Sam with a grin. Then he pointed at Toby with his PDA stylus, then Valdan.
“I need clarity though. The fuck you mean with that Marvel multiverse bullshit bomb you just dropped in our laps so casually?”
Toby snorted and laughed so hard that he doubled over.
“Oh, wow, ok. The multiverse is, I suppose, marvelous, yeah. The Infinite Realms is… the earth beneath the foundation of reality. It’s the basis for everything there is."
“There are, as the name implies, infinite Realms out there. Everyone has their own names for them, I suppose. What many older ghosts here would call our Realm, we call the planar system back home."
“Right, yeah. All the planar systems out there can be travelled to through the Infinite Realms, though it’s a bit harder in most places to get that far. Especially considering the cosmic jellyfish.”
“The what?”
“I’m not comfortable talking about them. Next question?”
“Uh…”
Danny scratched his head, brows furrowed, as he tried to process all of that.
“So, circling back to a simpler one: how do you see with those big bright bonfires on you?”
“I’ll be honest, these aren’t usually physical without my putting in an effort. I’m unsure how to make them go back to how they were.”
Toby’s wings curled up around him, sparkling almost mockingly.
“The Zone is a lot brighter though, so, ya know.”
“Do you not know how to transform?”
“Considering that animal thing you did, I’m shocked at that. Also, can you teach me how you did that?”
Toby cocked his head to the side like a bird, his gaze laser focused on Danny, and he grinned white and bright. He held out a hand to Danny, walking closer.
“Think you can transform for me? I need to see it again.”
Danny shrugged and morphed back into Fenton, but when his transformation ring passed over Toby, the man pulled back, taking the ring with him. It swept over him like a wave and tinted green. When the transformation finished, Toby was standing more solidly on the ground, his wings nowhere to be seen, and staring at his hands.
Valdan’s eyes were wide as saucers and he circled around Toby, poking and prodding him.
“Danny, this is fucking awesome. I thought I knew all there was to know about changing your body but this is something else. I’m how I was before we went on that trip together.”
Toby bounced on his feet and clasped hands with Valdan, pulling him into a hug with a slap to the back for both of them.
“This is so-”
A crash was followed by screams outside and Danny’s ghost sense went off, drifting toward the noise. He sighed and held out his hands, taken immediately by Tucker and Sam. “Of course, I can’t get one conversation in. Toby, you… are a bird.”
Toby was, already, flying out of the hole in the ceiling, having not even bothered to revert to ghost form. Valdan was similarly out of the nearest door in moments, and he shouted over his shoulder.
“He does that!”
Danny shrugged and flew through the wall, not bothering to check for where Toby had disappeared to.
“Well,” Sam drawled, “That’s new. I didn’t know anyone but Vlad was mixing animals together, Danny.”
“Well, these things could be from Vlad, so who knows?”
Danny set them both down on the sidewalk near the problem area and his fists and eyes started glowing like torches.
“Ok, do I wanna know how a hawk and a squid met and made you guys? Or is this one of those ‘the universe was young and how bodies are supposed to look hadn’t been decided yet’ dealios?”
The large birds with octopus bodies for heads shrieked in indignation at Danny’s perfectly valid question, and Danny rolled his eyes. The creatures dove for Danny and a blade made of ice slid right into the center of the swarm, cracking into a shower of shards that had the hawktopi scattering. They were pursued by five knives that sang with power and flew all on their own.
“Figured you’d want some help, though these things are roughed up enough that I doubt you need it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen any ghost but me bleed, but I’ve also never used a bladed weapon like that before."
Danny fired off a volley of ectoblasts at the swarm while it regrouped, knocking them out of the air where Sam and Tucker could catch them on the ground.
“How are you talking to me as a bird?”
“Have you never seen a bird talk before?”
Toby, despite being a peregrine falcon, managed to look like a little shit as he circled around Danny’s head.
“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure, cause I couldn't do this back in my planar syst-”
A tentacle swiped at Toby and ended up hitting yet another octohawk that was trying to grasp at him before getting sliced by one of the animate knives, and Danny edged away from the other liminal. “Don’t be fucking rude!”
Ice outlined every detail of Toby’s body and spread out in a swirling cloud of raw cold for 10 feet in every direction, followed by an indignant screech that had Danny covering his ears. The Hawktopi were, probably, somewhere under the mounds of ice that surrounded the spots they had occupied when Toby attacked them. That hardly mattered, of course, because they became hailstones that shattered on the ground a second later.
“Oh my god, the third liminal I know and you’re a fucking pokemon.”
“The hell is a pokemon?”
Toby cocked his head to the side when Danny laughed, still surrounded by ice and hail, snowing his way over the ground below.
“So, do you guys fix up the city after these fights, or is that something I’m gonna do new for the place?”
“You can fix things with magic?”
Danny blinked and smacked himself in the face. “Of course you can, that’s half of the things people fantasize about having magic for. Dude, if you can show me how to do that I’d be beyond grateful.”
“Well, from what I can sense of you, that should be pretty easy. Hold on.”
Toby dove, the wind whistling with his speed, and he landed as his human self, wings still hidden and his personal snowstorm fading away.
“You’re like, clearly attuned to the sky and I’m pretty sure you’re a weather spirit by nature, so I can teach you some things pretty easily. Hold on.”
Toby’s eyes began to glow a vibrant forest green and the cracks in the pavement where the ghostcicles had fallen were slowly sealing themselves up. Danny, meanwhile, scratched his head and looked at his friends for any help with understanding the adult suddenly in the group. They both shrugged, and Sam spoke up as usual.
“What do you mean Danny is a weather spirit?”
Toby hummed, leaning on Valdan when he caught up to them.
“How about you tell us about the second liminal you met before me and I’ll tell you?”
Valdan muttered something in a language none of them recognized, scrubbing a hand down his face.
Danny, meanwhile, rubbed the back of his neck and looked around at the street around them.
“We’re constantly under surveillance here, so I’d rather we go somewhere a bit more private to discuss that. Maybe a rooftop?”
“I can teleport us wherever it is you want us to go, just describe it to me.”
With veritable stars in his eyes, Danny excitedly described the observatory on the hill in the park in more detail than most people could describe their friends. Valdan listened closely, nodding as Danny spoke, and energy wove around the group with a soft hum that rose to a loud buzzing as Valdan’s hand rose.
A snap of the fingers and the world fell away and twisted in on itself before unfolding around them all.
Danny held onto Sam and Tucker, who clung to him in turn, all of them wobbling and swaying on their feet in different directions. Danny had never been so sure that he was going to loose his lunch as he was at that moment, but he powered through it with will that defied even death.
“This… is not the observatory.”
“No,” Valdan said far too steadily, “I imagine that’d be it over there? I can miss, at times, when I teleport somewhere I don’t really know.”
“You know what, I don’t care, this is close enough. Danny, tell him about Elle.”
“Yeah, ok.”
Danny sat down in the grass, letting his transformation wash over him and waited for his friends and the adults to do so as well. He ran a hand through his hair and stared out at nothing and everything at once, before focusing back in on Toby and Valdan.
“Ok, so Vlad Masters aka Vlad Plasmius, like we mentioned before, wants to kill my dad and marry my mom and tried to get me to join him in his senseless quest to do so. He eventually got fed up with my saying ‘no’ all the time, I guess, cause he apparently got to cloning me without even asking permission.”
As Danny spoke, the temperature dropped steadily and the sunny sky grew cloudy, then overcast with thunder rolling in the distance. Sam and Tucker had a great deal of practice ignoring the signs of agitation in Danny, but they’d never seen the whole sky change and the plants around them grow faster, thorny vines rising up in the grass where they didn’t belong.
“...and then she flew off dramatically into the sunset. I don’t actually know where she is.”
Valdan steepled his fingers, leg bouncing and the rest of him eerily still. Toby transformed into a bird and flew off, much to the teens’ bemusement. Valdan cast his eyes to the sky and mumbled something in a different language that none of them understood than the one before.
“Between the seven of us on The Rose Pheonix, there are five people capable of using healing magic, myself and Toby included. It sounds very much like this Elle decided she’d rather see how long she can go without dissolving and then do so far away from you, than make you watch her die since you were so kind as to not kill her when you had the chance and it would have been, pragmatically speaking, easier.”
“Oh shit,” Tucker whispered, holding onto Danny’s hand even as the grip made his joints pop.
“I’m going to discuss with the others the possibility of doing our best to help her, while also going to the Far Frozen in case they can help, since they had the only source of information in the area on liminals. Will you help us convince her to come with us, so that she can live a long, healthy life?”
“Yes, absolutely! Holy fuck, I never even thought about that.”
Valdan nodded, his leg still bouncing, and took another deep breath.
“Good, alright. On the brighter side, your story tells me that you’ve got the kind of mechanical technology that my husband and my brother in law would salivate over, so if any of you are interested in learning how to make magic stuff, or at least getting magic stuff, you’ve got the chance of a life time.”
Toby appeared to grow out of nothing back into view next to Valdan, and the clouds dispersed ever so slowly. Valdan took no visible notice, and Sam wondered how one could get so used to the weather shifting at a whim.
“A deal’s a deal, Tobes. Gonna tell em about the jolly giant?”
“Right. Ok, sure. Well, anyone who uses magic has this… thing in them. Like, a metaphysical center where the magic sits in between our souls and our bodies. Everyone can only use so much magical energy at once, and that's where it all builds up.”
Toby walked over and gently poked Danny’s chest in the center and his finger shone for a second, sending a vibration up and down Danny’s being.
“Ghosts all have much the same, but for something … older, more primal I think than magic. Regardless, yours has the same feel as weather spirits and elementals that I’ve encountered.”
“And you’re sure it’s… weather?”
“I am married to an embodiment of the storm, Danny, I know weather magic when I sense it.”
Toby ruffled Danny’s hair and stood up, crossing his arms.
“As a matter of fact, he’s probably the better person to teach you how to use your powers. I can introduce you all to him if you want?”
“He’s not the only one. How have you been fighting for 14 months and you’re still so skinny? I’m putting together a workout routine for you and I expect you to follow it to the letter if you wanna actually build up some muscle so you can defend yourself better.”
“Huh… that sounds like a good idea, but I think for now we should probably stop and process all of this or else our brains are gonna explode. Mine is, anyway.”
“Yeah, this is wild. Can we just, bench this for later?”
Toby clapped his hands and then pulled Valdan up to his feet.
“Sure can do, kids. That ring I gave you has like, five charges a day so use it wisely. Doesn’t recharge until the sun comes up.”
“It has been… an informative and interesting time, meeting you kids. For now, I think we’ll go chat with the people on this list you gave us. Buh bye now.”
Valdan waved, Toby transformed, countless wings made of fire that scorched the earth beneath him, and in a beat of those wings they were both gone.
“They’re gonna tear them to shreds.”
#Danny Phantom#Danny Fenton#Tucker Foley#Sam Manson#Toby Lumano#Valdan Lumano#Rewrite#Rexy Writes#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#fanphiction#fanphic#phanfiction#phanfic#phanphiction#phanphic#phic#Skulker
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Schrodinger's Adolescent || CH. 25
Fic: AO3 || FNN
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Rating: Teens and Up
Word Count as of update: 175k~
Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton, Sam Manson/Tucker Foley, Ember Mcclain/Ghostwriter
Characters: Danny Fenton, Dash Baxter, Sam Manson, Tucked Foley, Cujo, Johnny 13, Ghostwriter, Sidney Poindexter, Mr Lancer
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Slow to Update, Canon Rewrite, Post-Reality Trip, High School Setting, Fake Dating (Kinda), Unrequited Love, It's requited but they're dumbasses, one-sided attraction, fluff, I know the content warning is extensive, but I promise there's fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, Danny Fenton has PTSD
Content Warnings: Body Horror, Assault, Breaking + Entering
Author's note: We're at half-time now. -Voorhees
Credits: I have to extend the biggest thank you to @cicadahaze for providing the fantastic artwork used in the Ao3 version of the fic! We had kicked around the idea of a collaboration since the first invisobang, and I'm happy to show it off!! And another standing ovation for @/galaxy-beast and @/the-storming-sea. Without them, my work may never actually be pushed to the finish line.
Reblogs > Likes... thx
"Dash what're you—?" Paulina was speaking so hurriedly, "Quien está contigo? ¿Lo que está sucediendo? Should I call the po—"
Abruptly, the device greeted him with a flash of its dead battery screen. The service provider logo followed the tell-tale dying whoosh sound—
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Goddamn, Orion mobile.
Unsure if it was fear or anger, Dash chucked his phone away, landing somewhere in the garden beds.
Even if he could understand what she was saying— Paulina's voice couldn't compete with the pulse hammering through his head, reverberating through his body like pangs off of steel rods.
Everything felt so loud.
It didn't matter that he had his phone plugged in and resting on his desk before she called. He should have had a full battery, but that fact didn't help him now. His phone was dead, and thereby extension, so was he.
Baxter only stood there, shaking, trembling. A part of him still wanted to blame this one on whatever psychosis was emerging from the depth of his mind—but no.
Because when he looked at his house. Every single light was flickering. The high brights rivaled the moon and stars, and the lows mirrored an abyss.
Several dull pops of lightbulbs bursting and releasing gas—wiring crackling as their circuits broke.
Then, all at once, the house was draped in pitch-black darkness like a grand crescendo in an orchestral piece. And, suddenly, it no longer felt like his home. Not like any home he would ever want to return to.
He thought if… when he squinted. Dash thought he saw someone in his kitchen still standing there. Standing there… waiting for him to come back.
Paralyzed in its absolute form. His shoulders hunched, and he began to crumple in on himself. Waves of nausea came with the shutdown, and bile bit at the back of his throat. He clutched his stomach and swallowed on nothing.
Thoughts came at him in surging insurmountable waves, threatening to pour out from his eyes, giving away how truly powerless he was. A single word projected against the backs of his eyelids—
Run.
Run.
Run.
Yet all he could do was keep himself right there. Attempting to keep his eyes open, as open as they could allow.
The imposing townhouse only loomed over him, offering no answers, glowering down at its occupant with some disdain.
Pookie began to bark in opposition, excited for a challenge, as if there was no danger at all—the dog leapt and climbed the stairs with no trepidation to speak of.
Stumbling—Dash fell to his knees in an endeavor to catch his dog. He had slipped on the damp grass, landing on his chest. The quarterback punched the mud, "Seriously?!"
Using his head, the chihuahua nudged open the gap in the sliding glass door and continued to bark at the darkness.
The sky split open with a bolt of lightning that splintered across the clouds.
One.
Two.
Three.
A rolling crack of thunder followed three seconds at least behind the flash. Dash fumbled to stand before he felt water hitting his neck—
Rain. A heavy downpour hit the ground. What was once a comforting presence was now only further noise and chaos.
"SERIOUSLY?!" Dash shrieked, face streaked with mud. He wrenched his head around to see the fading blooms of lightning in the clouds.
As if in reply, the night lit up once more with a fracture of electricity that radiated the air… the boom echoing across the sleepy residence.
It's official. I'm cursed.
Wiping his sweat and mud-covered hands against his jeans, he produced his lighter from his front pocket.
He would have to crawl under the deck to start the backup generator. Nothing suggested he would be safer in the light, but he had to try.
Convincing himself to move was another feat entirely.
Dash had to live; maybe one day he'd want to. Maybe he could live one day without this fear and loathing constantly wrapped around his neck like a noose—
The barking stopped.
Snapping his head forward, Baxter realized he was wasting time. Armed with his lighter, he hurried— sliding through the mud bubbling up from the rapidly flooding yard. He nearly took another spill when he approached the opening under the deck but grabbed ahold of a broken piece of lattice. Making sure his feet were under him, he dove his hands in first, striking his cheap neon green gas station lighter frustratedly. Dash nearly tore the skin off his thumbs by continuing to strike the spark wheel. The flame was reluctant, but it allowed the quarterback to get a better look at what he was doing. Lowering himself, Dash moved forward, his arm brushing against the poorly maintained fretwork.
He remembered trying to talk his father out of installing the backup sometime last year before ghost attacks became the new norm that Amity Parkers had to set their watch by. Dash believed he called it a worst-case scenario with a million and one odds, like being struck by lightning while holding the winning lottery ticket.
He insisted that all the box would do was sit there idly and rot, awaiting a disaster that would never come.
It was several months in the making, but Dash finally defied all odds.
Letting go of the lighter fork, he was thrust back into darkness backlit by the storm, but the crystal clear image of the red block of metal and engine parts seemed to sear itself into his brain. Brief images of the salesman demoing it and schematics from the instruction manual plagued his mind with thunder, overdubbing the critical parts. For some reason, the word carburetor stuck out, but Dash couldn't identify it within the mass of gears and buttons.
Dash was sixteen and gay. How was he supposed to know what the hell a carburetor was?!
"I'm supposed to… flip this twisty thing for the fuel… valve, then—" He didn't notice it, but he began to mutter to himself.
With trembling, sweat-soaked hands, Dash blindly pawed at the machine— following a piece of tubing back until it made contact with the main engine block. Upon feeling a knob, he turned it, and the fuel line began to hiss—
The young man flinched, but upon realizing he didn't explode, he figured he must have been doing something right.
"Th-then there's…" Dash swallowed; the smell of diesel was thick in the air already. He was getting gulps of it— that's when he remembered, "The choke."
He coughed and forced the lever over.
Nothing.
The air under the deck was only getting more saturated with the stench of gasoline—
Taking the small choke lever on top of the block, he flipped it from side to side more aggressively. He prayed he was loosening whatever rust or gravel jammed up the machine and not damaging it further.
BOOM!
Another stroke of lightning nearly right behind him— it must have landed in a neighbor's yard or the telephone pole by the road downhill from the backyard— Illuminated the situation very clearly.
The generator had a ripcord.
Bracing his foot against the engine's base, the quarterback mustered his strength and grabbed a hold of the plastic handle. He pulled. Pulled until his shoulder threatened to pop from the socket.
By God, that deep hum and roll of the mechanism turning over—The relief was immeasurable; it was priceless with the porch light returning to life and flooding through the gaps in the deck.
If Dash was going to do this, he would do this terrified the whole way.
He slid out from under the crawl space, flicking cobwebs from his hair and shaking the mud from his bare soles. He traced his hand around the deck like a tether to him and the light until he stopped at the arm rail for the stairs. Rounding the corner, he snuck up the steps, sticking to the shadows of covered furniture.
As he assessed the situation inside… Dash realized it would be a good time for a weapon.
The jock didn't have to look too far. Sports equipment was loose over the back deck, one of the tables holding it having been blown over in the wind.
An aluminum bat with black tape around the handle caught the light and his attention. Dash picked it up. He didn't feel more confident about his chances. It weighed lighter than he expected but still felt heavy.
It was familiar to him, like an extension of himself. The only thing weighing it down was his intentions.
If there were something like a knife or a gun… it would have been too foreign and ultimately cumbersome.
He didn't want to use it. He hoped he didn't have to.
Dash just… he just wanted to scare them away. That's what he did; that's what he was good at. He scared people away. If they couldn't be close to them, then he'd make sure they never want to. Dash never wanted to hurt anyone— he didn't have it in him to kill someone…
Closing the sliding glass door behind him until it clicked in place near silently… Dash, in his left hand, used the bat to pin it against his arm. He did not want to be heard until he was absolutely prepared for it.
The backup generator managed to get the kitchen lights working and some of the ones upstairs. The connections must have been weak somewhere. Something told him he wouldn't get the opportunity to check them out.
"Pookie!" Dash hissed out a whisper.
Yet he still needs an answer as to where his dog was.
When he stole his glance up from his feet, after plotting out his next few steps, he saw a shape sitting on the kitchen island stool. It slumped forward as if getting ready to attack—
Without hesitation, Dash gripped the bat with a second hand, winding it up over his head, but before he could swing, he got a good look at the intruder.
It was a gigantic stuffed white teddy bear. It was large enough to be mistaken for a person in a costume. One of those oversized ones you could win at the arcade at the mall. Its face had just fallen onto the counter. It was so big it was spilling out of the stool it was sitting on and kicking it out slightly—pushing the chair legs against the tile, creating this insufferable squeaking.
Pookie had latched onto one of its legs and attempted to take down the bear.
…
Dash wasn't just confused. Bewildered, perplexed, flummoxed, disoriented— whatever word there was to describe the utter disbelief and sickness he felt— there was no equivalent in this language or any of the others he had a passing knowledge of.
Approaching the bear slowly, a card was attached to the bow tied around its neck.
With one hand still white-knuckled on a weapon, Dash unfolded the card. Within the single page was a scrawled message that read—I'm bear-y sorry.
Was this a joke?
The bat fell slack and bounced against his calf.
"Uh, hey…" That almost whisper, almost voice, had returned, "You got a little something… on your… face."
Dash didn't imagine it at all.
Lethally, he scanned his surroundings before finding the darkened entryway. There was a closet that hid the water heater. The blackness blocked the front door and the living's only means of escape.
The closet door from the shadows moved, and a figure in the darkness had stepped out.
"I-I didn't mean to… uh, interrupt your call." It seemed apologetic, "Ghosts… ghosts cause fluctuations in the electromagnetic field. Dropped calls, cold spots, flickering lights—" with a pop of the tongue, it emphasized, "The works."
Baxter was stunned. He was certain this wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't one he remembered having. It wasn't any of the usual suspects. It was all too logical, too coherent. Yet… he couldn't be too sure. He was still deciding.
To fill in the lull in the conversation, the figure struggled, "The girl… the girl, the one you were talking with. She—She seems nice."
At the mention of Paulina, Dash's blood ran cold, and a rage began to stir and pull at his chest.
The figure in the dark then shut the cleaning closet, "You two been friends for a long time?"
"Show me your hands, and step toward the light." With a level voice, the quarterback brought the bat up and gently rested it at an angle on the counter.
The ghost startled in place but laughed it off, "Th-that's not really necessary, is it?"
"Hands. Up."
Taking a few creaky, hesitant steps forward, it was him— the Amity Park Phantom with his gloved hands raised and palms open.
"You caught me… your friendly neighborhood ghost… guy." The Phantom's trademark smile faltered for a moment under the weight of the quarterback's scrutiny, "Tadaa…"
Dash was speechless.
With his chin, the Phantom gestured to the teddy bear at the kitchen counter, "Um… th-that's for you."
The ghost boy cleared his throat, "It's—uh… it's… I noticed you didn't have any white ones… so—heh…"
He explained with his eyes darting to his shoes, "That, uh, Fenton kid said I-I should come back and apologize."
The Phantom wanted to fidget, to scratch his cheek, but hesitated— "It's too much, right?"
The silence was chilling.
Taking a step forward, the Phantom continued to speak as if compelled to, "You're not really—"
Jumping and startling in place, Dash fumbled a step back, wanting to maintain the distance between them.
"...saying anything." The Phantom's expression fell, disappointedly.
Was Dash supposed to say something? He gathered this was the part where he was killed. He's supposed to scream, and no one comes to save him. He wanted to scream but couldn't. There were plenty of things he wanted to say but had the presence of mind not to. Even when he was blindingly angry, he knew it was a fight he couldn't win.
It's a ghost town; it's best to let them have their way.
The Phantom stared ahead, eyes darting between places, around corners, attempting to start a dialog. Searching for something to say, looking everywhere except at Dash, "I think you're right… y'know? About you… you being haunted?"
Incredulously, the living teen looked the ghost boy up and down before mumbling, "That so?"
"I didn't notice it before, but there is definitely something…" As the ghost boy fumbled his wording, he took another step closer, as if he didn't want to let other parties hear him, "—attached—to this place."
The thought finally dawned on Dash, "You… were watching me?"
"Oh—No, no, wait, I… I know how that sounds." The Phantom's eyes widened before pointing to the bear, "But I-I swear, I only wanted to drop that off."
"Was that what you were doing the last time?" Using his shoulder, Dash wiped off some of the mud rapidly drying to his cheek, "Just—just… how many times have you done this?"
"It's not like that!" The Phantom laughed at the accusation. It was a troubled laugh, like the kind a coyote makes when caught. He asserted, "If you just let me explain—"
"Explain?" Dash cocked his head, smacking the aluminum bat on the counter. He erupted, "What's there to explain?!"
A flash of lightning burst into the kitchen.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five…
The thunder finally replied. It was growing further away.
Shrinking at the jock's raised voice, the Phantom tried to argue, "I…"
But nothing further came of it. Just his throat straining to make smooth, frictionless logic out of the noise.
"Wh-what do you want from me?" with his face still dirty, patience thoroughly burnt, and eyes stinging with pinpricks of tears that refused to spill, Dash's tone reverted to a soft severity.
"Just tell me what it is— what you want from me… and just…" Dash was bracing himself like a little kid at the doctor's, Yet there was no illusion that this was for his benefit at all. He winced, "Get it over with."
Dash had very little left to give, so why not give the last pieces of himself to the Phantom? Perhaps he would put it to better use.
The ghost only stared at him with a complete lack of understanding. It was as if Dash was suddenly speaking in tongues.
It pissed him off.
There was the Phantom— this… thing just staring at him with those heinous hell-like eyes, with nothing connecting behind them. Utterly alien, the way he studied the living's face like it was the first time the Phantom had been in proximity to this emotion.
How can something look so human yet be so unrecognizable?
His skin was flawless, yes, but unnaturally pale, almost greying. A slight blue glow lingered as an analog for capillaries. It was not dissimilar to the glow of a TV left on in the middle of the night.
Thin, but not in any delicate or frail definition— Thin like starving. Thin, like his body didn't make any sense.
The way the air around him seemed to bend and crackle, just like now, just like during a turbulent storm.
Dust particles seemed to ignite and then burn around him.
His teeth didn't seem to resemble the other ghosts. They weren't pointed and sharpened like a predator. No. They were… off.
These slight differences didn't make him seem very ghost-like either.
The Phantom of Amity Park was something else entirely…
His boots squelched against the boundary of the kitchen. Hands reaching out—
One.
Two—
"Keep your hands where I can see them…!" Dash ordered, praying that he sounded more authoritative than he looked.
Gingerly, The Phantom raised his hands back to their position but still took another step forward, "I feel like you're the one giving this situation a kind of 'home invasion' vibe, with the stick an' everything."
Unable to really come up with a response, Dash only narrowed his eyes.
"That's a joke—" the ghost boy chuckled anxiously and clarified, "You're supposed to laugh."
Dash remained stoic.
The Phantom's expression didn't change from its rigid pleasantness—It flickered briefly, the ceiling light in tandem. He winced at the harshness in the young man's face. The apparition closed his eyes and breathed, his chest flush before exhaling through his nose. His tight-lipped cocky smile gradually wilted.
The light above them shuddered at the subtlest gesture. The buzzing unstable bulb only highlighted the glow of the Phantom's being.
Finally, the ghost said, "... I don't think I've made the best impression."
Clearly—Dash wanted to say but thankfully had enough presence of mind to restrain himself.
"See, I wanted to apologize for that thing a few days ago." The ghost boy couldn't bring himself to be more specific about what he was sorry about, "That wasn't… th-that wasn't me. That wasn't like me at all…"
Shaking in fear and rage, Dash couldn't bring himself to believe it.
Before the living teen could even respond, the Phantom began to ramble.
Words kept falling from his mouth, pooling to the floor and sinking further. His speech was heavy, yet frantic, "I—I wish I could say that… it wasn't like me, but it is. I did that, and I—I just… I get really… really angry sometimes, and I…"
The Phantom's hands balled together and rested against his head, lowering his gaze once again, unable to meet Dash's stare, "I-I can't always control it."
The quarterback's mind was somewhere else entirely. He was focusing on the door just behind the ghost's shoulder. It was so close. Dash hesitantly inched his foot to his right, thinking if he could somehow circle around the island, he would have a clean break for the front door. He had to escape—
Then the apparition said something that completely caught Dash off guard, "You understand that, right?"
Snapping his head up, the Phantom never looked more like a lost child than in this moment. His hair, moving like a mist, rippling like a field of grain under a gust of wind, fell just above his eyes and obscured them slightly, "You believe me, right?"
Before Dash could even have the opportunity to register the plea—
"You know what it's like. You, more than anyone, know what this is like."
It was an accusation, an assumption. The ghost was trying to read him, attempting to toy with him. To worm its way into his head— Dash resisted and held firm. His aluminum bat was still creating the fragile distance between them.
"You just take it out on those Fenton kids—"
"Screw you." In all his defiance, Dash managed to find the words soaked in gasoline but needed the spark, he hissed. He wanted to close his eyes, and when he opened them, he would be dozing off in the library or at the Fentons' kitchen table. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn't.
Sweat broke out across his skin and palms in waves— heart thundering—
Stifling a chuckle, the ghost murmured, "Why are you always…?"
The Phantom's hands unfurled against his wild and untamed white hair. He rustled and ran his fingers through it before pushing his bangs back, his hands then falling to his sides.
The contract was now compromised.
"You're always like this." He repeated cryptically like he was scolding Dash.
Something of an idea returned the grin to his pearly face, "Here's something… I'll take a step toward you for every word you say."
One.
"Screw."
Two.
"You."
Upon losing ground, Dash shuffled back—
"That's okay." The Phantom said, "You can move. Only when I move— So…" He sighed, "I guess you'll have to talk to me."
"Wh-what?"
"Now, see, I'm not sure how to quantify that." The ghost boy shrugged, "Is that technically one word or two? Or Half…?"
The ghost inched forward—
Dash scrambled to find the balance against the counter, knocking down the stool, and it took the bear to the floor.
The dog seemed indifferent to the confrontation overhead and chased after the toy.
"You don't have to be afraid of me—"
"Stay back," The jock warned, jostling the bat between his hands. His arms aching from holding it aloft.
One.
Two.
"I just… what you saw—I get it. It's weird. And your wall—I didn't think I threw it that hard—!'
Then Baxter took two steps back. It didn't take a genius to understand he was going to corner himself against the glass door. He was running out of room—
"Will you just look at me? Please?"
Flitting his eyes back up to his approaching death, Dash exhaled, "Please… go."
He lowered his weapon.
One…
Two…
The ghost boy's legs evaporated through the downed chair as he moved. It was like he shimmered through it as if the chair didn't even exist. Not even hesitant or bothered by the obstacle. Like the tide, The Phantom glittered in the light and encompassed everything.
Dash backed up and felt the cold glass seep through his shirt, chilling him to the bone. The back of his skull connected, and he went flat. Despite sweat rivering down his face, the living steeled his nerves, "Leave me alone!"
He cried out before swinging. He took the metal bat and swung—cleaving a line clean through the Phantom.
Dash didn't miss. No.
The hit definitely connected. He felt the bat impact the cloud of vapor where the Phantom's jaw should have been.
The bat carved up the ghost's neck and head, creating a distinct line of severance in his face.
Yet the Phantom remained… undeterred.
It rippled through him like a drop in a puddle.
Another bolt of light crashed from the heavens, illuminating the backyard in a glowing web— The thunderclap, the tree branches splitting from the trunk, and the harsh wind whipping past the windows caught within it was deafening.
The sight of the Amity Park Phantom's eyes being blown out with white brilliance, mirroring that light— as if his body was rejecting it—This was the last face Dash was going to see.
The aluminum bat clattered to the tile, rolling under the kitchen island. That was the last thing Dash registered as he sprinted to his front door. His body landed and bounced off the frame in his desperation to escape. Manically, the living scratched at his door, hands grasping the knob but unable to turn it.
The deadbolt. The realization hit him cold.
The deadbolt.
The door was still locked. Dash kept repeating this futile thought in his head. The words blurred together in one uninterrupted mass but didn't lose their meaning. He knew the door was locked— but he couldn't breathe— he couldn't think. His hands uselessly twisting at a knob for a door he had locked himself earlier that day.
This house had a state-of-the-art security system of locks on top of locks and alarms that sat dormant and indifferent to his struggle.
Slamming the door with his palms, Dash swore under his breath before retreating to the stairs.
Though just as quickly, he felt his mistake claw at the back of his mind.
It's like he was screaming—Hey, come kill me, Mr. Ghostface!
Darwinism at work— that's what people would say when they read about his death in the papers. Not killed by a ghost, Dash was bested by a standard-issue lock.
Breathlessly, he berated himself as he scrambled to the upper floor, "Why'd I do that? Upstairs? Seriously!?"
"Dammit, Dash! Come back!"
The quarterback yelped before darting into his room, his foot almost catching on the running throw rug that stretched along the hall. He shut his door behind him, using his body as a barricade instead of anything else within reach.
Wait—The reasonable part of Dash's brain had a chance to speak between hyperventilating and movement— What am I doing? Ghosts don't need fucking doors!
Hitting the back of his head on his door, Dash seethed, "Dumbass."
There was a knock behind him. Soft.
Clapping a hand over his mouth, Dash attempted to stifle his breathing. His lungs burned. He worried that wouldn't be enough. He worried his heart would give him away. When pushed to its absolute limits, the body tells you. It's the innate tug, the skipped beat. It's the tiniest fluctuation and deviation from that norm. Your heart keeps you alive.
Now, it was going to get him killed.
"I know you're in there." The Phantom said through the door, "You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be, y'know?"
"...Dash, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. I didn't." there was the sound of his fist brushing against the door as if wanting to knock again but unable to, "That has to mean something."
How is that supposed to make it better?!— Dash wanted to yell back, but he couldn't. There was this lump in his throat. It made even breathing impossible.
"I wouldn't really be a good hero if my weaknesses were doors and blunt objects, would I?" By his voice, you could tell he was smirking.
"Not. My. Hero." Dash managed to spit out.
There was a brief pause, a moment of silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Dash strained his ears, waiting for any sign that the Phantom had left. But instead, he heard a soft chuckle, the sound cutting through the silence like a razor.
"That… that actually hurts my feelings. Wow." The Phantom sighed, "Wow."
The intruder was solemn now, "I-I thought if anyone would be my number one, it would be you. I could've sworn—"
"Drop. Dead."
Clicking his tongue, the ghost boy rested his head on the door, "...I'll get right on that."
…
"Y'know you could have just gone out the front way?"
Hitting his head on the door again, Dash groaned, "Go away!"
"I-I can't. Trust me, I wish I could, but I can't. I don't want to leave it like this."
There was silence. There was no further reasoning.
"...Are you okay?" The apparition muttered, "I thought I saw you trip up the stairs."
How could he be okay in a situation like this? But at the same time, there was a sliver of relief that the Phantom seemed to care, even if it was just a fleeting concern.
"…Yes?" Dash's voice wavered, uncertain of his answer. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "No—I-I dunno—"
He stammered, struggling to articulate his feelings—a horrid unease, frustration, in some twisted moment of vulnerability.
Was I really feeling embarrassed?
Dash clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, as he fought to control his breathing. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. He knew he had to stay calm; he had to stay smart to find a way out. But fear, raw and overpowering, threatened to consume him whole.
This wasn't the first time he felt fear like this, but he never got used to it. Dozens of times, he looked down at a ghost, and he ran. That's what he did. That's all he ever did. That's what he did at the drive-in. That's what he did when he could have helped. That's what he did when Danny needed him.
Dash was sick of being afraid.
He wanted nothing more than to rip the door open and accept whatever punishment fit him, whether it be holding up the earth for the rest of time or at the mercy of vultures.
He's had too many close calls, and his luck had to run out eventually—
"I just want to keep you..." It almost seemed unintentional how it slipped out, blending with the house settling and the storm howling outside in a voice pained with longing. He was sure it was the Phantom.
...
Dash wondered what the end of the statement was. If it even had a conclusion.
Maybe it was something else he didn't fully understand. Maybe it was an excuse, or a confession, or… a promise.
He didn't want to overthink it. He didn't want to allow room for empathy.
"Can I keep you?"
Swallowing on the growing lump in his throat, Baxter felt his gaze stick to the window in front of him at the end of his room. Then it fell to his ajar nightstand drawer.
If Dash died tonight—Danny would say his best quality was his persistence.
'Like a cockroach.' I believe his were exact words—Dash felt a smile crack into his cheek while his pained breath hitched. It was a smile entirely at the blame of Danny Fenton, equal parts defeated and wistful. If that was the last thing Danny ever thought about him, then he could probably exit on that note— but one thing he decided: he wasn't going to run anymore. He's a bit too tired for it.
He took a deep; shuddery inhale like he was about to step off a bridge with nothing but choppy water to cushion his fall. Pushing himself from the door, Dash spun on his heel and kept his eyes pinned to that spot.
As Dash shuffled back, he barely cleared his closet doors; right as he brushed his hand against his desk chair— for a split second— the jock looked over his shoulder to see how far he had left to go. Then, as soon as he turned back, the Phantom was there.
The apparition emerged from the shadow of the doorway, extending no effort to open it.
He definitely could hear how loud Dash's heart was beating. The Phantom's feet left the ground as he peered around his hostage from his new height advantage, "You're running out of room."
"So you, either talk to me, or I have to catch you from a thirty-foot drop."
Dash only glared up at him, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen between his eyes.
As the living teen took steps backward to his nightstand, his ankle rolled. It was such a simple mistake. It was two seconds, and the room whipped around him. He had forgotten about the cleaning supplies he had laid out earlier and accidentally stepped into a bucket.
Landing on his bed hard on his elbows, Dash struggled for a moment with gravity and the sheets— He struggled to keep his eyes on the Phantom.
In a moment, the Phantom closed the distance between them. The ghost stood over him, gazing at him in ambivalence like he did back then. Not caring at all for the living's comfort.
Only it was closer. It was all so much closer than Dash ever wanted it to be. Intimate, almost within a breath's distance. He smelled cold, like how the asphalt smells during the rain. A strange, sterile smell, a clean kind of scent, a medicinal antiseptic undertone.
On his back, and as helpless as he was the day he was born, the living demanded, "G—get off—! Off of me!"
It was gentle and… cold. Gradual, like sweet nothings offered by hypothermia.
The ghost boy had placed his knee on the mattress. What stuck out was that the springs didn't creak or shift; the Phantom was utterly weightless. His knee was right in the center of Dash's legs, with every intention of going further. Whatever that meant.
"This isn't going to hurt, I promise, okay? I'm not going to hurt you."
If Dash could fight back, he would have. He would thrash, kick, and claw— if he knew it would work. He reached for his nightstand drawer, and his arm flailed uselessly—just a fingertip away—
How could you fight what was inevitable?
The Phantom moved faster than Dash could even parse. And that's when Dash could see him to begin with!
He was hushed, "I just want to show you something."
The living teen could only perceive the paper-thin voice before him and the rain. The rain hitting the window… that's all he could focus on. Even if he could scream, who would hear him?
As Dash braced his hand against the Phantom's shoulder—one last meager protest— the Phantom took hold of it.
He held onto Dash's hand, tangling their fingers together. The spaces between fit perfectly, as if all humans were made in halves as if we were all put onto this planet to chase that elusive feeling of closure.
Finality.
Completion.
And even death would not stop such a search.
"When I was a kid, my Mom tried to explain to me that because we are all made up of atoms… we… we don't really touch anything. I… I always found that kind of… depressing."
"It's something about how the particles break down because all matter is made up of some electrons that just naturally…" Each word that left the apparition's pale blue lips felt so soft yet heavy. Deceptively heavy… somewhere between a dream and a dying star.
"–Repel," He murmured.
Those green eyes flitted to their hands— Dash blinked, and the Phantom's hand disappeared. But it wasn't… Dash could feel that he was still holding it. It wasn't gone. Dash felt the texture of the Phantom's leather glove glide down his hand, palm, then his wrist…it was reminiscent of how wax beaded off of a candle.
And then something extraordinary happened.
That chill that clung to the Phantom… it changed somehow. Dash didn't just feel it on his skin anymore. It was in his muscle, through his sinew… it felt like his veins were freezing in place. Dash's right hand had this—this… pins and needles sensation like it had gone numb.
The Phantom had sunk into Dash's flesh.
Faintly, the living teen could see the shimmer of the apparition's fingers sticking through his palm, effectively penetrating it through layers of skin and bone.
It almost didn't seem real. Like an elaborate magic trick. Something in the light, an illusion in the angle.
It defied explanation, yet with the Phantom's great ease, it seemed as natural as breathing.
It was somewhere between the intersection of being horrified and mesmerized. Dash realized he could no longer flex his fingers or move his hand. The extra bones piercing through his hands were the likely culprits.
Taking control, ensnaring his fist around the living's arm, The apparition steered Dash's hand, swaying it. The creature was playing with him at this point. Snickering quietly, the ghost was too satisfied by their position.
Dash leaned his head back, not even wanting to grant the Phantom the encouragement of a darting glance.
Then, abruptly— that chill grew. It progressed up his arm and deepened.
Dash thought if he were to regain his strength and jerk away suddenly, he would shatter his hand in the resulting conflict.
That's when he felt it.
Bump.
…
Bump.
…
Bump.
Something was throbbing in his hand.
The texture made the living squirm. His stomach flipped; it nearly drove him to gag.
Dash thrashed his head forward.
His hand was submerged in the Phantom's chest. Clear as day, the young man could see it. Like the Phantom suddenly made his ribcage from glass, Dash could see his hand between the ribs.
If you had asked Dash Baxter what color he thought a ghost's heart was— He would have never in a million years said white.
The Phantom's heart looked like the moon, with minor flecks and imperfections on the surface tissue.
Those blue veins that lined the muscle like cracks in a ceramic piece. Like rivers, they flowed, tracing the curves, but it didn't make sense.
Ghosts don't bleed.
There wasn't a need for an organ to funnel and filter something that didn't need blood.
The organ still had an iridescent sheen, as if it were still wet. And it had heft within his hand. Its existence required no justification.
Dash held the Phantom's heart.
"Right now, we're closer than atoms."
"Isn't that amazing?"
It felt like every nerve and cell in his body was crying out for help.
The Phantom's heart pulsed through him, the rhythm sending shivers down Dash's spine. It burned his hands, yet it didn't hurt. It was like plunging his hands deep in a fresh snowfall. There was something horrifically serene about it all.
The world around him faded into a haze, leaving only that pulse, and the faint whispers of the apparition above him echoed in his head.
It was as if he had become a conduit, a vessel for the Phantom. Nothing more than a husk. He ceased to be a person anymore like he lost that right somehow.
The sensation was overwhelming...
Dash's eyes burned as he blinked away tears, his breath quickening. It left every hair on his body standing on end. He felt it everywhere.
He fully believed he would pass out—
In this moment, Dash felt a connection to something greater than himself, something beyond the realm of understanding. Each pulse filled him with a sense of both awe and terror.
And then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the surge of energy subsided. The heart's pulsations waned, fading into a faint echo. The apparition's hand withdrew its grip on Dash's arm. Leaving Dash strangely hollow, aching for something he couldn't grasp.
As the world around him snapped back into focus, Dash found himself gasping for breath, his hand trembling. He glanced down at his palm, half-expecting to see remnants of the ghostly heart, but there was nothing. Only the faint imprint of a cold memory etched into his skin.
He was shaking uncontrollably…
He was unclean in a way that would only be solved by burning.
The room was dyed in cherry and blue lights.
There was a siren outside.
Blood spurted out of Dash's nose—he coughed.
"...Are you okay?"
Before the answer could manifest itself, the Phantom barred an arm across his chest in a bid of sudden insecurity, still standing over his victim, "Are we… okay?"
It was the sound of indistinct voices shouting in the street that made the quarterback realize…
Paulina called the cops.
#danny phantom#dp#fic#phic#teddy ghost#teddyghost#swaggerbishie#swagger bishie#schrodinger's adolescent#schrodinger's adolescent 2.0#danny fenton#dash baxter#txt#link
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Index - The Kidnapping of Danny Fenton - Tumblr Edition
Since AO3 was down, I might as well post the chapters of my fic here as well.
This is not a rewrite of the story. It will contain fixes/edits for problems that initially went unnoticed by me. These edits will eventually be added to AO3. Big thank you to the volunteers at the OTW for your hard work!
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 -
Refresh Index
Work Details:
Characters: Danny Fenton, Guys in White, Original Characters, Dash Baxter, Kwan, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley
Tags: Trauma, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Prison Brutality, slight electrocution, author is very sorry, Torture, Government Experimentation, Body Horror, No Beta - We Die Like Danny, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Comfort, Regret About Bullying, Out of Character, Signs of PTSD, Not Phantom Planet Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
Danny gets kidnapped, tortured and experimented on by a yet unknown organization. Because of his imprisonment and abuse, he builds up lots of trauma that hasn't been worked through yet.
Eventually, he gets rescued and returned to his home in Amity Park, but he has to try and get back to his normal life while working through the horrible events that transpired.
This fic is meant to be an exploration into the trauma of being kidnapped by an organization set in the Danny Phantom universe. This is a WIP and will contain a lot of angst. The author has no update schedule and has never written this type of fic before. Updates may not follow a set schedule.
Read on AO3 WARNING - The Tumblr Edition (which contains many fixes and improvements over the original) is yet to be merged into the AO3 Version
#danny phantom#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#dp au#danny fenton#danny gets tortured#original characters#The Kidnapping of Danny Fenton#ao3 was down#so I fixed my fic#or tried to anyway
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So I know the Fenton’s Christmas has always been a heavy discussion due to how Maddie and Jack’s fighting about Santa ends up ruining Christmas especially for Danny.
Rewrite Idea. Context, My Sam comes later in their lives so she finds out later.
Sam-So Mr and Mrs Fenton get into a yearly argument about Santa?
Tucker-Yeah, it wasn’t really a big deal at first. Just one of those silly things people just never seem to really agree on because of holiday stress but it never got out of hand, mostly a thing they kept to themselves as to not let it bother Danny and Jazz. That was until Danny and Jazz came to the age where they began to have their own thoughts about Santa and…
Tucker opens the door to show Sam:
Danny- You’re suppose to be the smart one! How can you and dad possibly believe an old man on a diet full of cookies and milk could be living in the North Pole with mythical creatures, travelling on a sleigh with reindeer, around the entire world overnight! How does that even work with TIME ZONES!?
Jazz-YOU. ARE. HALF. DEAD! How could you and mom be skeptical OF THAT!?
Sam-…Should we stop them?
Tucker-Nah, we’ve all have found it better to just let them get it out of their systems. One time their turkey came to life from radiation and they talk about it WAY less than THIS! You can find their previous arguments all over YouTube, they have over like a million views. More than even those two guys arguing over Glinda The Good Witch.
Sam-How long exactly, does this last?
Tucker-Usually blows over by New Years. Pretty much everyone in Amity’s used to this. Even got on Amity Park News!
Headline- Local Family Fight Over Holiday Mascot.
At some point they stop arguing about it when someone suggests that maybe Santa’s a ghost and everything’s just having other ghost helpers and using ghost powers.
What do I think? How would u want to handle that? I’d love to know💖
#danny phantom#Fentons#danny fenton#jack fenton#maddie fenton#jazz fenton#Phandom#dannyphantom#Sam manson#tucker foley#Dp christmas#Dp rewrite#My ideas
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Reality Trip rewrite, but Wes Weston finally exposes Danny which leads to the manhunt for Danny.
Freakshow fight in the stadium happens, but Danny, whose rings only appear rather than fully outing him, gets tazed by Wes at the exact wrong moment ("he's weak to electricity, so if I taze him at the right moment, the truth will finally be out."). When the students rush the stage after Wes' victorious shout and the GIW arrive, intent on arresting Danny, Lancer sprints onto the stage, grabs Danny and then leaps into the crowd, followed by Sam and Tucker.
The GIW arrest Wes for not telling them about, "the Ecto-entity known as Phantom," sooner. Wes happily tells them everything about Danny, certain that they'll see Danny is doing the right thing, but is instead charged with obstruction of justice, interfering with a Federal investigation, and thrown in a holding cell until they can catch Danny.
Freakshow, having escaped dramatically, watches the reveal with glee, and happily captures the parents of the trio for ransom. His TV broadcast features the execution via overshadowing (suicide) of Mr Manson, Foley, and Dr. Jack Fenton. "If you want to see your mothers alive, you'll bring me my gems; and just to keep things dramatic. You have three days."
Sam and Tucker didn't make it off the Fenton Jet, leaving Danny striving for the gems and the gauntlet all by himself.
Wes gets to watch every detail of the hunt for Phantom from the inside of his GIW cell, they've courteously provided him with a TV, with only the 24hr news stations, and a look into their operation to catch Phantom. Just in case he wants to join them some day...after they jailed him and charged him with obstruction. To his horror, everything is going wrong: Mr. Lancer was arrested for harboring a fugitive, the students of Casper High are all incarcerated pending, "cleansing," of ectoplasmic contamination, Amity Park is under quarantine and martial law, and it's all Wes' fault.
Danny doesn't wait for Freakshow to speak before attacking him; he has one chance to fix everything and that's with the Reality Gauntlet. Lydia, for all her animated tattoos, fell to his ghostly wail, powered by grief.
When Wes heard Danny's grieving wail, he cried--he was only fourteen, it happened--because that was all Wes' fault. He thought exposing Danny would make everything better, the truth never hurt anybody...anybody except everybody in Wes' life.
Danny didn't trick Freakshow into turning himself into a ghost, Danny drove his fist through Freakshow's heart and tore his head off. "Don't mess with my family," and then Danny cried. His tears shook from his face as he began to vibrate with anger. Danny tore the glove from Freakshow's dead arm and shoved his own arm into the bloodied gauntlet, then he opened the thermos at his hip and carefully slotted each stone into its rightful slot, "Wes."
Wes disappeared from the holding cell to the screaming of the alarms and appeared in a field halfway across the country in front of Danny.
"You- you- you...YOU!" Danny fumed
Tears silently ran down Wes' face, "Me. I'm so-"
"Don't! Do you- they're all-" The temperature plummeted and Danny's hair began to whip violently, "THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED!"
Wes's puffy eyes narrowed as he screamed, "NO!" His voice cracked, "It's not..." Wes sobbed, "I- I- I..."
Danny fell to his knees, the temperature rose, and his white hair calmed as though violent winds had faded to a gentle breeze. Wes and Danny knelt in the grass, grieving for the people they lost.
Wes' eyes widened and his head snapped to look at Danny, "You can fix this. You can fix everything."
Danny snorted, sending green snot from his nose, "Not that kind of ghost."
Wes rolled his eyes, "You have the Reality Gauntlet."
"Oh. Right," Danny focused on the power latched onto his arm, "I want everything to go back to how it wa-"
"I want- need to remember."
"But I want only Wes, Sam, Tucker, and myself to remember what happened," the gems of the gauntlet glowed, and the world changed.
---------
Not a full thought, but I figured I'd show a little of it. Anyways, just was thinking about that and realized Reality Trip, with a few minor changes, can be a good way to get Wes to both succeed and realize he's in the wrong.
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Rewrite vs. Canon: Sam Manson & Tucker Foley from Danny Phantom
Sam grows to become more accepting of other's opinions and decides to take her activism more seriously. After too many attempts by her parents to control her, Sam seeks emancipation from or goes No-Contact with them when she's an adult. She moves to a middle class part of Amity Park with her grandmother and does volunteer work and works at a vegan restaurant for a living.
Sam and Danny dates for a while but grow apart due to differences. They split amicably and remain friends. With her parents no longer controlling her Sam is free to experiment with her own preferences and interests.
Tucker undergoes the Sokka Training Arc and by that I mean unlearning his misogyny. He realizes there is a power in feminine strength and doesn't need to be tough or have powers to be useful. He begins to take his tech skills more seriously and even branch out to other disciplines. He also learns to balance out his palate, finding a vegetable he ends up enjoying. Another mini arc is he confronts his Pharaoh Tucker and overcomes that side of himself. He still ends up running for a political office however it's for student council. While still very much a jokester he has a life outside danny and sam, being part of a geek squad like club and the reason why he likes tech is because he finds them easier to deal with than people. That also leads to an arc overcoming social anxiety, interacting with ppl outside his comfort zone.
#gb asks#in short they have lives outside of danny/ghost business#forgot to add but a key part of sam's arc is befriending more girls not just for viable romances but to branch out of her comfort zone too#really both sam and tucker needed to take risks
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Ghost City
by GooGirl
Danikka Seighin lost her mom, got powers, and got a dad within 24 hours. What’s a half-ghost to do unless mess things up?
Words: 1213, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Ghost Files
Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: Multi
Characters: Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Jack Fenton (Danny Phantom), Maddie Fenton, Danielle "Dani" Phantom, Dan Phantom, Original Halfa | Half-Ghost Character(s) (Danny Phantom), Original Female Character(s), Sam Manson, Sam Manson's Parents, Ida Manson, Tucker Foley, Dash Baxter, Paulina Sanchez, Star (Danny Phantom), Kwan (Danny Phantom), Wesley "Wes" Weston (Danny Phantom), Kyle Weston (Danny Phantom), Damian Wayne, Jon Lane Kent (DCU New 52), M’gann M’orzz, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jade Nguyen, Original Characters
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Vlad Masters, Vlad Masters & Original Female Character(s), Jazz Fenton & Original Female Character(s), Jack Fenton & Maddie Fenton & Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton/Tucker Foley/Sam Manson, Dan Phanton/Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Jazz Fenton/Jade Nguyen, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton, Dash Baxter/Valerie Gray, Kwan/Wesley “Wes” Weston, Paulina Sanchez/Star, Johnny 13/Kitty (Danny Phantom), M’gann M’orzz/Original Female Character, Jon Lane Kent (DCU New 52) & Danielle "Dani" Phantom & Damian Wayne
Additional Tags: Rewrite of Danny Phantom, bexause why not, radios are cool, Halfa | Half-Ghost Danny Fenton, Halfas, Ecto-Contaminated | Liminal Amity Park Residents (Danny Phantom), Amity Park Is Strange (Danny Phantom)
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Workin on some color keys for a pmv :)
#danny phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#jazz fenton#my art#fan art#gonna show off some rewrite ideas I got
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