dp-marvel94

[dp-marvel94]

Tired Clockwork - Lost Time and Danny Phantom animation

Youtube link

This is somewhat based on my headcanon that Time and Space are so intertwined together that Danny and Clockwork can talk about it together and it gives the same Obsession satisfaction to them.

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Meet Blobert my Blob ghost!!!

He looks so wonky and that's on purpose. Freehanded him so no pattern sorry. Do y'all want a pattern tho?

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my danny phantom receptors have been acting up lately so heres a little redraw.

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Uuuh boo. *throws this at you and skitters away*

(I’m going off references and memory here— I’ll rewatch it soon I swear I just needed to draw the silly ghost lad wisnejdhwhwhwhwdhdjrjdj)

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Phic Phight Prompt: The people of the apocalyptic future have no idea what to call this Phantom look-a-like menace, so they keep coming up with increasingly ridiculous names to refer to him as, but none seem to stick. At Dan's insistence to choose anything with a modicum of dignity, they all double down just to cheese him off. Terrible merch, puns, and awful slogans of his various names are plastered all over the city next to his face. He cannot stand it

Word Count: 2209

For Shinx

Summary:

Even in the face of a one ghost catastrophe, the world keeps spinning. Everyone copes with the new normal in different ways, some get angry, others ignore it, and Tony? Tony likes to laugh when he can, especially at the one who caused all of this. Sharing his collection of everyone's various stabs at naming the ghost terrorizing them is dangerous, but always worth it. Especially when he knows how much that guy hates every last one of them.

It's a quiet afternoon.

Well, these days it's always quiet. With a ghostly madman exacting some sort of revenge or twisted justice wherever he happened to be, most people only go out when they have to and try to go as unnoticed as they can manage while doing it. Especially this close to the ruined city of Amity Park.

Tony's second-hand store is just over fifty miles from the abandoned town where some argue this all started. That doesn't bother him though, he's got no plans to try and see it like the thrill seekers. Besides, people all over the globe have reported seeing that flying catastrophe all in the same day so Tony's pretty sure that no place can be truly safe.

He barely thinks about these days and as it as he wastes time in the back while waiting for a customer to find their way to the store it doesn't even cross his mind. He's already dusted, put out all the new supplies (the handful he received today at least), and even organized the place if one feels very generous about their definition of 'organized'.

It's only when he's unhappily contemplating the stacks of accounting paperwork piled up on his desk that he hears someone come in and he's not ashamed to admit that he lets out a gusty sigh of relief at the sound of that little bell above the door. Pushing himself out of his chair, he sweeps the papers into a drawer and makes sure everything is secure before stepping into the shop proper to greet whoever entered.

"Welcome, welcome." Tony smiles at the young lady even as she nods at him stoically. Her grim demeanor doesn't worry him - many of those who are young like her are angry or disillusioned now that they find themselves staring down a future where they'll never be truly safe, one that might be cut short even if they want to try and live under that for decades. Firmly in his sixties and with far less to lose, Tony copes in other ways. "Take a look around, I have quite the selection."

"So I've heard." The sharp cut of her short dark hair only makes the green of her eyes more noticeable as she gives his wares a perfunctory glance. Whatever she's looking for, it's not here and Tony knows what she'll be asking for before she says, "Rumor has it you have some rare collectables."

He knows he shouldn't, knows how suspicious it looks and how futile the effort is when the real threat can go invisible, but Tony still glances out the yellowing glass at the front of the store as if he might catch a sting operation in progress. As usual, the street is mostly empty with only the infrequent passerby power walking to their next destination with hunched shoulders and they all pointedly pay no attention to the things around them.

Tony's eyes catch on the condemned building across the way - its windows shattered with clawed off posters lining the walls around them. The image is nearly gone on most, but those that are left with scraps of familiar ghostly hair and only the tattered ends of a name printed at the bottom of whats left of each repeated page.

He's not sure where his old friend is, the one who used to run the place and the one who put up those signs so proudly. Doesn't know if they're in hiding or if their absence is a sign of something more final.

But he knows exactly why it happened.

Yanking his eyes away from the wreckage, he smooths out the strained edges of his smile to make it sit more easily on his face.

"Oh, I find myself collecting all sorts of odds and ends." He dithers, watching her reactions closely. "It's part of the reason I opened up the shop. Is there something specific you're looking for?"

Those green eyes narrow and her lips purse as they stare each other down. Just because he knows what she's likely referring to doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. Tony doesn't know her and with a request like this it's probably better for both of them if he keeps it that way, but if someone trusted her enough to tell her then she should know how to gain access to his most dangerous yet beloved collection.

"You know, I can't quite put my finger on it." She eventually grits out, not quite grinding her teeth, but certainly unhappy to be using a code phrase.

Tony's smile widens as he steps to the side, ushering the woman to the back with a sweep of his arm.

"Well, let's see if we can't put a name to it, shall we?"

Letting out a gusty sigh at Tony's favorite joke, the young lady takes the invitation and walks by him with a roll of her eyes. She stops far enough inside the windowless room to let him follow her, but watches him closely has he shuts the door behind them.

Tony takes in her tense shoulders, the curl of her fingers as if contemplating reaching for a weapon he can't see (though that hardly means anything, it didn't before weapons could fit into people's watches and he certainly doesn't have a better eye for them now), and the couple of inches she has on him even without his perpetual slouch.

He leaves the door unlocked.

Ghosts can go intangible. If the young lady wants an exit, he'll let her have both of them. Tony glances at the fire exit at the back of the store, the one that can't be locked from the inside, then goes to unlock the small room next to his storage area.

Technically, the place is labelled as his office, but the ruse is a lazy one with his desk in clear view as soon as anyone gets into the back. It's worked out for him so far though and Tony will admit, if only to himself, that even if he doesn't want to go to Amity Park, he's still a little bit of a thrill seeker.

Just maybe not enough to paste it all over the outside of his business.

The 'office' door opens with a low creek, as if to show how infrequently people ask to see this collection. Pushing the door open and flicking on the light, Tony looks over his shoulder to see the young lady's reaction. She doesn't flinch which is encouraging - one young man almost ran out screaming at the sight, Tony was lucky the kid's friend was there to stop him from attracting the wrong attention.

Tony can't wait to see which one is her favorite.

Stepping inside, he smiles at the mismatched collection - from t-shirts to posters, figurines to mugs, floor to ceiling the walls are packed with merchandise bearing the face of that ghostly menace that haunts them all.

Who? Well, the collection aims to answer that question.

Though, judging by the angry response each of them has inspired in the subject, likely not the one the ghost wants.

"They weren't lying when they said you had the biggest collection they'd ever seen." Mentioning no names, the woman walks in to survey the items, grudging respect in her voice. "You have a lot more of the 'Inviso's than I've seen all at once."

Tony reaches up and pulls at one of the shirts to show off another one behind it - both sharing the same angry spectral face, but bearing a different name. 'Inviso-Bob' makes way for 'Inviso-Benjamin'.

"The 'Inviso' line is the classic series - based off the old 'Bill' character that used to feature on the local news stations." Beside both shirts, Tony picks up a mug with another angle on that snarl and a faint outline of a basketball behind it. "This one is my personal favorite, I picked it up from a friend who had a set printed before companies started banning these types of things due to the inevitable damage they'd lead back to them."

The young lady takes it from him to read the name printed at the bottom and snorts, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Inviso-Baller?"

Even though it's quiet, Tony still waits half a beat before letting his smile grow. (If the ghost were close enough to hear and investigate, there would be no escape for him, not in the middle of such incriminating and insulting items, but after years of being cautious, he can't help it.)

"Not much of a pun, that one, but amusing none the less." Accepting the mug back, he places it on its little shelf before gesturing around the room. "The other, hmmm, traditional names are also present along with a few unique takes on them if you'd like to take a look?"

Traditional or original, it's hard to classify. Their problems weren't even a decade old, but after nearly a decade and what must be hundreds of iterations in multiple languages, he needs some way to categorize the memorabilia.

He watches, enjoying her quiet amusement at the different names he's collected. Everyone who gains entry loves them.

The 'Phil-tom' that looks more like a mash up of common names instead of a play on phantom, the 'Phan-Thomas' on a news article next to it. 'Spec-Ted' and 'Spec-Theodore' were popular for a while, lasting a whole three weeks and gaining quite the following before the rampaging ghost came back from wherever it had disappeared to dismantle the newsroom that came up with it.

Tony has yet to see someone read the 'El Espoo-Ken' and not snicker a little and she's no different. Shaking her head a little at the postcard that showcased it, she moves on only to stop a few steps later. It's hard to see what she's looking at from here, but after a moment, Tony follows the tilt of her head to the familiar poster half hidden behind another shirt.

"Ah, I see you've found the more dangerous part of my collection." The whole thing is dangerous, but puns are one thing.

Insults are another.

He lets the door swing shut behind him, the latch not quite engaging as usual, as he steps closer to read his friend's poster once more - this time not just the scraps left on the building outside, but a pristine version he kept for himself before it all went down.

"He came to take those down far quicker than the inventor anticipated." A life and business ruined, all over one little insult.

Printed in black and white, the ghost snarls down at them. Beneath it, eight little letters. One name. Uttered first by a child, the owner's grandchild - Tony can still remember how his friend laughed about it.

"'Spec-Turd' she said, can you believe it?"

"He would."

There is something in that clipped response that makes Tony pause. He blinks at the poster before looking at her sharply.

It strikes him then that she's not just that she's tall. If he stood up straight, forced his spine to cooperate in a way he hasn't managed in years, they'd actually be quite close. No, what he's seeing isn't just height.

This young woman is unbowed. She's unbroken.

She is angry.

And judging by the fire in her eyes, by the way she talks about that ghost, it is personal.

Tony swallows and takes half a step back, suddenly feeling that maybe the unlocked doors are less for her sake and more for his.

There are many who get fed up and take a stand against the ghost.

Few survive it.

He doesn't know what he does - doesn't know if it's a rattle of his keys in his pocket, a scuff of his shoe against the concrete flooring, or simply something in the air - but in an instant she's back from whatever terrible memory the poster reminded her of, her green eyes snapping to Tony.

He successfully fights the urge to take another step back. He can't quite stop the flinch, but he can squish it into a tense smile with the ease of long practice.

"I don't sell anything here." His usual wrap-up comes out as creaky as the door's hinge. Tony coughs a little to clear the tightness from his throat. The fierce expression he saw not moments ago makes way for faint concern which makes his next question come a little easier. "Would you like to take a souvenir?"

"I-" What is clearly a negative response cuts off almost before it starts. In the silence that follows, she cuts a glance back at the poster. As she bites her lip in thought, Tony can read her intent from her expression and he tilts his head to try and remember where he put his scanner.

"Can I get a copy of this?"

If anyone else asked for that dangerous insult, Tony would have tried to talk them out of it.

Looking at her standing tall in this tiny back room, Tony finds himself recalling the few reports of someone fighting with the ghost and surviving.

No, what are the odds?

He shakes the thought away and goes to take the poster down so they can get a clean scan.

"Of course."

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Phic Phight prompt by @a-closet-emo: After years spent in academia, Jasmine Fenton earns a double degree in Clinical and Counseling Psychology (along with a minor in Parapsychology, though to most people that is much less impressive) and opens a counseling office in downtown Amity Park. The sign on the door reads: "Open to the living, the dead, and those in between."

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Much to Learn

Maddie has Phantom cornered. He's not getting away from her this time.

{Irma} Maddie overhears something she shouldn't, and it makes her rethink everything (reveal gone right) [ghost]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for mentions of violence/dissection]

She had him. Maddie had that spook cornered, and there was no way he could escape, at least not without being seen. Jack was covering the other exit, but she knew she had him. Phantom was hers. 

"That was too close," she heard Phantom's voice around the corner.

He had no idea, she thought, raising her ecto-gun, ready to take him down.

"No kidding," a girl's voice replied.

Maddie froze. Was he talking to someone? Her voice sounded kind of familiar. Was she in danger.

"My parents almost had me that time," Phantom replied. "Thank the Ancients I gave them the slip, or it would have been hello scalpel."

"You got Klemper, right?" a boy's voice asked.

So Phantom had two captives... or... perhaps allies, the way they were talking. But what had he meant about his parents? Were they still alive?

"Asked him for his best soup impression," Phantom replied with a chuckle. "You know, I don't actually mind if they want to have fun and goof off, and it's great for them that they don't have to worry about consequences in the Ghost Zone, I just wish they could wrap their heads around the fact that here in the real world, people can still get badly hurt. Like, some of us are mortal, buddy."

"And Klemper plays pretty rough, so it's no wonder he doesn't have any friends," the girl replied.

"Yeah, no kidding," the other boy's voice agreed.

They didn't sound like captives, Maddie determined. They definitely didn't sound like ghosts, either.

"Alright, if my parents had followed me, I'm sure they would've burst in guns blazing by now," Phantom said. "I think I'm in the clear."

There was a flash of light and a sort of whirring sound.

The next voice Maddie heard wasn't Phantom's... it was Danny's.

"Guess I'm not gonna get dissected tonight," he said, like it was some kind of big accomplishment. "Good thing, too because I have a huge English assignment due soon that I haven't even started on. I definitely don't have time for my parents to cut me open."

"You sound awful cheery," the girl noted, and suddenly, Maddie could place the voice. It was Danny's friend Sam.

"Well, you know, you gotta celebrate the small victories, right?" Danny replied. "That's what Jazz is always telling me, anyway."

"Morbid victories," scoffed the other boy—Tucker, she finally recognized.

When Maddie had cornered Phantom and his allies, she'd actually... or rather, she'd also cornered Danny and his friends. Because they were the same people.

Her son was Phantom.

Oh, god, what had she done?

"Come on, guys, let's get out of here," Danny said, and Maddie could hear him and his friends walking toward the door where she was lying in wait.

She wanted to run so she could have time to properly process her thoughts and the new information, but she was rooted to the spot, her brain racing at a mile a minute. Danny was a ghost? How? When? God, she had shot at him.

He was coming her way. He was almost to the door. She wanted to run, but she still couldn't move.

He walked through, and jumped when he saw her, back against the wall, ecto-gun still raised and in-hand.

"Mom," he said, sounding mildly alarmed. "Uh... how long have you been standing there?"

"You're Phantom," she said. The words just spilled from her lips, and she was helpless to stop them.

She didn't miss the way Danny's muscles all tensed up at once and he eyed the gun still in her hand.

"What?" he asked.

Her eyes widened and she dropped her ecto-gun to the floor as if it had bitten her. Oh god, he was afraid of her. Her own son was afraid of her. What kind of mother had she been? What had she been doing?

She threw herself at him, and wrapped him up in a hug. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry!"

"Uh...." She could feel the hesitation in his movements as he hugged her back, and it brought tears to her eyes. "It's... it's okay, Mom. You didn't know."

"No, I didn't know, but it's not okay," she insisted. "Ignorance is never an excuse. I tried to hurt you!"

"But you didn't," he said. "Mom, I'm fine. It's okay. I forgive you."

"I've been a fool," she said, reluctantly pulling away from the hug so she could look him in the eye and cup the side of his face, gently, like a mother should. "I only heard a minute of conversation, but it's obvious you know about ghost. You probably—no, you definitely know more than I do. Maybe you can fill in some of the gaps in our research."

"If it means you won't have to dissect anybody, I'd be happy to help."

Maddie cringed, but once she got past the barb, it sounded nice. A little mother-son scientific research and bonding was just what she needed to get to know her son again. He'd been so distant lately, and now... well, now she knew why. And now that she knew, she could start to pull him closer again, learn the kind of man he was growing into when he wasn't too busy avoiding her.

"That sounds wonderful, Danny," she said. "I'm sure I have so much to learn."

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Preparing smt

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Being an occasional lurker of the Danny Phantom Phandom is so funny because I got here somewhere before the pink pants event and to this day every time I look into the phandom they are doing something weirder. Like they just don't stop. It never stops. I can't escape it.

Anyway I'm trying to stop being such a lurker so here are my sketches of me trying to figure out how to draw Wes Weston

[dp-marvel94]

Phic Phight Prompts: people can't get out the amity & A day in the life of an Amity Park resident.

Word Count: 2406

For @godgytrnbrt and Splax

Summary:

It wasn't like Angela Foley ever ignored the news in the past, but ever since ghosts started attacking Amity Park keeping an eye and an ear on the local situation was a necessity. How else was she supposed to know the town turned into the Hotel California overnight in time to let her boss know she'll be working from home indefinitely until it's fixed?

Tapping along to the beat of a song that is slowly drifting further from the 'Top Hits' stations and into the 'Oldies' category, Angela Foley looks away from the veritable sea of brake lights ahead of her to eye the shops to her right. The cars around her haven't moved since before the song started and a coffee sounds really good right now.

To be honest, it sounded good before she even left the house this morning, but she initially planned to stop by her favorite cafe next to the office.

A glance at the clock shows that, while she isn't late yet, coffee wouldn't be possible even if the traffic in front of her vanished into thin air. A not-so-impossible feat these days, though one she hopes doesn't actually happen. As it is, she's positive she's going to be late.

Which means stopping at this coffee shop to wait out the worst of the traffic couldn't be too bad, right? She's visited before, a handful of times even, and the local staff really helps when Amity Park's local problems crop up. The one time she saw a ghost attack here - it was the one obsessed with boxes, memorable mostly due to how frequently he's spotted - the staff helped the customers clear the building. As she texted Tucker at the time, Angela thought the clean up response times would be longer, but as if to prove her wrong, Inviso-Bill showed up just a few minutes later so she was able to see how quickly the shop's staff got back to business.

(Personally, she's of the mind that an attack on a business should necessitate a paid leave for the employees until the damages are fixed, but she also knows how unrealistic that is in a chain restaurant like this. Outsiders just can't understand.)

Shaking her head, Angela lets the car roll a few inches further, leaning forward to see where the turn in starts. Not too far, maybe a car-length or so. She taps at the steering wheel again, thoughtful this time.

Before she can decide either way, the music on the radio cuts short to make way for the familiar beeping of a news alert. She sighs, shoulders tense, then reaches for the volume to turn it up.

"Alright, what's going on this time?"

"This is an emergency announcement for all Amity Park residents. I repeat - all Amity Park residents. Please be aware that due to an unknown entity, all Amity Park residents are currently unable to leave the city." The local shock jock is a little more serious than his usual persona as he reads the news bulletin, but it's clear that after months of having to share similar news stories he doesn't mind playing into it a bit. "That's right, folks. It looks like our beautiful town has gone full Hotel California on us today. According to reports the city limits aren't exactly the hard limit, but many of those trying to commute out of the city for work are finding it even more difficult than usual."

Leaning an elbow on the car door, Angela allows herself another deep sigh as she mentally rearranges her whole day around this new inconvenience.

Being essentially held captive inside her own city is certainly not good news, but Angela's seen and survived worse than this. Thankfully, working from home isn't outside of her wheelhouse as it might be for others.

However, to work from home she first needs to get there.

"Thankfully, at least for any guests visiting us, whatever is keeping us in doesn't seem to impact non-residents. Experts are working on pinning down why that is and how long one needs to live here to be classified as a 'resident', but for now they ask that all of us lucky locals return home and clear the roads to allow our guests to continue on their merry way."

Angela watches the car in front of her execute a not quite legal or safe turn into the shopping area, the small car jumping the curb to make it in. As they beeline across the parking lot she can see they're clearly headed for one of the back exits that leads into the only mildly confusing web of neighborhoods that make up Amity's suburbs. 

Good plan.

Keeping an eye out for any pedestrians or cops, Angela follows them. Another two cars follow her to make a similar escape from the traffic. She has a passing thought, a faint hope that they're also locals going home rather than visitors trying to beat the traffic. Well, if they aren't locals, she's sure they'll get to where they need to be eventually.

Just maybe a little later than they thought.

At the second stop sign Angela blindly rummages through her purse until she finds her phone. Driving with only one hand on the wheel isn't exactly recommended which she would stress to Tucker if he were here (she's trying to be an exemplary driver in front of him these days to set a good example), but it gets the job done. She at least waits until the next stop sign to navigate the menu until she can call her boss.

Lowering the volume until the music - oh, it looks like the DJ thinks he's funny - until Hotel California is barely audible, she hits call. The older woman picks up on the third ring.

"Hey Pam." Angela goes for cheery, wanting to soften the mildly bad news.

"Oh, no. What is it this time?" It wounds like she missed it. Thankfully, her manager sounds more amused than exasperated.

"Something's keeping all Amity Park residents from leaving the city limits." It's not a shield, at least Angela doesn't think it is as she squints up at the decidedly blue sky for half a beat. Usually those are pretty visible. Then again, she isn't an expert. Whatever it is, she hopes it isn't long term. She and Maurice were hoping to make a trip to see the rest of his family in a few weeks.

"I told you that you should move out of that place." Pam says again, likely shaking her head as she always does as she makes this argument. "I'm sure I could get the company to pay for it!"

"I appreciate the offer," Angela really does, "but we don't plan on moving anytime soon."

Because ghosts or no ghosts this is their home. The one Maurice picked with her. The one that Tucker has vocally refused to abandon. It's where their friends are, where Angela's bi-weekly book club meets, where Maurice's old college buddy lives. It's the only place Tucker's ever known.

Angela can't imagine leaving it after fighting to keep it through thick and thin.

Pam clicks her tongue, clearly expecting the answer after hearing some form of it for weeks.

"Alright." That tone means that Angela's going to have this conversation at least once more, but it's put aside for now. "What's your ETA? Will you make the eleven o'clock meeting?"

"I should be able to." Angela assures her after another quick look at the clock. "I'll email you once I'm back at my desk."

"I'll keep an eye out for it." Pam hangs up. That would be more offensive if the woman didn't end every call like that.

The drive home is far quicker than her aborted attempt to drive in to work and Angela may still be slightly later than usual to log in, but she thinks that the professionally made cup of coffee she finally got her hands on is worth it.

She sips her way through the cup while making sure she has everything ready for the today's meeting and tomorrow's while she's at it, then devotes another few hours to what they pay her for - something between network and cyber security. She left the hardware side of things behind a few years ago (now only dipping back into it to help investigate new technologies for others to install and maintain) in favor of learning how to keep people out of their company's data. 

Some might find it boring, Maurice certainly prefers his own specialty - operating systems - which she gladly leaves to him, but Angela finds it rewarding. Especially since Tucker found an interest in it a few months ago! It might be due to that ghost that keeps trying to use technology against the town, but whatever the cause Tucker's insights and inputs when they discussed hacking and how to prevent it were always so interesting to hear.

The TV, a small one set to the local news station as quiet background noise and an unfortunately precaution these days, brings Angela out of her most recent project by playing it's usual mid-day jingle. She still thinks it's a little corny even after all these years of hearing it, but it does remind her to stop and eat on time.

She's halfway through making her sandwich (a bit of a let down as she planned to go out with some of her coworkers today) when she spots the fresh strawberries she previously set aside for tonight's baking. Angela eyes them for a moment before reaching for all the ingredients she'll need for the cupcakes. If she's going to be stuck at home she may as well be productive. It's still a toss-up if she'll be able to bring these in to work for Tom's birthday, but Angela's sure her family will be happy to eat them if she can't.

It's nearing the end of her lunch break and the timer is going off when she hears the the door open, a tell-tale jingle of keys following it.

"Did all of you get stuck on the bridge?" Tilting her head to one side, she smiles as Maurice brushes a kiss on her cheek before dropping his is head to rest it on her shoulder.

"Got it in one." He sounds exhausted for not having gone to work, but considering the traffic jam that he certainly got stuck in the middle of she isn't surprised. 

With his skill set Maurice will likely always need to commute to the next city over - not Elmerton which is closer to Amity Park's size, but a more metropolitan city that headquarters the tech conglomerate he works for. It's a bit of a hike so Maurice carpools with some of his coworkers. Unfortunately, the river they cross is right around Amity's borders. The bridge that spans it is both long enough to catch a fair amount of cars and old enough to make it nearly impossible to turn anyone around.

Angela doesn't even want to try and imagine what it was like for them this morning. "How did you get out of that?" 

"Some of the authorities started driving our cars to the other side and then back over on the other side of the divided bridges." Came the muffled reply. "We had to walk back to our side of the river though."

"Isn't that nearly half a mile?" She asks, idly blocking her husband's wandering hand from grabbing at the still hot cupcakes she's just taking out of the tin.

"My feet hurt." He says in lieu of an answer, which is an answer in its own way Angela supposes.

"So go sit down." Blocking another grab, she uses one oven mitted hand to push him out of the room. "They still need to cool and be iced."

It takes them both a little while longer to get back up to their shared office space - which is usually just hers as Maurice's job asks that he comes into the office most days, but with the increasing impact of ghost attacks on their ability to make it there, he now has a little desk of his own.

He's still trying to explain to his manager - one of those corporate types who certainly doesn't believe the ghost stories, even if they're consistent across the two or three dozen workers who routinely get impacted - why he's so late as Angela quietly shakes her head and starts back in on her own work when the local news station cuts in with breaking news.

"This just in - Inviso-Bill clashes once more with other spectral entities near the city center." Angela looks over to see grainy footage of a familiar street corner with two glowing figures zipping back and forth, clearly having it out. "Witness reports state that there was mentions of a 'curse' and 'barriers' before the Fentons arrived on scene."

A familiar RV smashed through a sign and a park bench before the video cuts off, likely so that the person filming could get to a safer location. Angela shares a look with Maurice as the news anchor returns to the screen.

"It's unclear exactly what happened next, but we can confirm that the restriction on Amity Residents is now resolved." The news anchor continues, but Angela is having trouble hearing it over her husband's pained groan. She holds in her laughter (more relief that this problem was short term than anything) and shoots off an email to Pam, letting her know that barring any new issues, she should be in the office for tomorrow's meeting.

She still attaches the presentation's slide deck to the email just in case.

Maurice is just hanging up as she hits send and he leans back in his chair to throw an arm over his eyes.

"Looks like I can bring those cupcakes in for Tom's birthday after all." That gets the pained groan she anticipated and she smiles, she loves teasing him even when he can't see it. "Oh, cheer up. I made extra just for us to share."

Judging by the look of excitement on her husband's face, it'll probably be more like 'for us and Tucker's best friends', because she's certain that if she doesn't let her son know about the dessert there's a fair chance there won't be any left by the time he comes home and if she does message him they'll probably have a pair of hungry guests following him home right after school.

Well, that's never too bad, Angela supposes already thinking about what vegan options she has in the house in case Danny and Sam want to stay for dinner.

Their family loves living here because it's their home and home's always better with good company and good food. All in all, it's another successful Tuesday in Amity Park.

[dp-marvel94]

DPxDC Writing prompt: A new circus is in town appeared seemingly overnight, a circus of meta humans with red eyes and equally terrifying and wondrous acts. It’s suspicious as all hell and even more suspicious when Jason suddenly feels overwhelmingly compelled to join it when he sees the commercial for it on the TV. Seriously, where the hell did this ‘Circus Gothica’ even come from?

Ok hear me out; y’know in that one episode where we’re introduced to Freakshow and he brainwashes Danny but then it’s ok because he’s saved by his friends?

What if Sam and Tucker and been too late? If Danny had been successful taken?

What if no one believed Sam and Tucker when they said Danny had been kidnapped and he’s not a runaway?

And what if he’s been brainwashed for over 3 years while travelling in the Circus, the only people caring enough to find him being unable to do anything about it?

And what if Freakshow made the mistake of preforming in Gotham where the Bats dwelled? And where they’ll take a deeper look into the circus’s suspicious behaviour…

[dp-marvel94]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & NASA Characters: Original Characters, Richard, Donnie, Jeffries, Sabrya, Danny Fenton, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Mr. Lancer (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: POV Outsider, NASA, Phic Phight 2024 (Danny Phantom), First Person POV Series: Part 9 of Silent’s Phic Phight 2024 Summary:

Richard is having a bad day. And that bad day is about to get worse, when he discovers a data breach in one of NASA’s databases. And what has this skilled hacker done? Reclassified Pluto as a planet. The absolute nerve.

Prompt: NASA gets into a furious feud with a 14 year old who keeps hacking into their databases in order to re-classify Pluto as a planet.

Disclaimer: I know nothing about how NASA or hacking works, despite having a degree in physics.

This prompt was a blast to write.

For @charcoalhawk

[dp-marvel94]

Phight Phic!

Words: 2772

Characters: Clockwork, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton

Summary:

The portal is working.

It shouldn't be.

[dp-marvel94]

NERD

[dp-marvel94]

NERD

[dp-marvel94]

Phic Phight - Goo, Sleep, Repeat, Or Please Don’t

@everystarstorm @ LumianaKatenke

Danny had really bad luck with G.I.W. and Nocturne has precisely zero tolerance for their foolishness.

Nocturne grins maliciously, pouncing down on Phantom, the little prince in the making, a young god would didn’t get enough sleep. There are spectators, Phantom’s citizens, cheering the battle on, giving reverence to their master. As they should. His little Fraid and Makers hovering around, unable to get involved since they’re so far above such mortals. The human government fools still try, pathetic things; as if they could truly do anything either.

Nocturne swirls, twisting and bending around blasts; there’s not too much power behind it, expected, Phantom was still so young and had no interest in truly damaging most ghosts. Phantom smirking up at them, “you’re not a very good nighttime comforter! Because no one finds this assault comforting! And getting clawed in the face isn’t comfortable!”. That child and his way with words. He was so very fond of them much to the annoyance and groans of everyone in earshot.

Nocturne smacks him with their ghostly tail into a wall, grinning more, “one of these days I will knock you out!”, knock him out to stay asleep for awhile. But Phantom pops back out of the indent while sticking out his tongue, “and I’ll knock you back to sleep with the fishes!”. Ah the death jokes, no ghost made them quite like Phantom did.

Nocturne gets blasted past a couple buildings, going past one to see those human government fools setting up some large launcher. They have no interest with dealing with that, but perhaps they should not lead the child king over here. This was for play, to spar and tire the boy, a good nights rest after stretching out protective powerful muscles. So they zip up, into the sky, and fire a quick blast to send Phantom back a little. Only for those makers of his to hit him square in the back as a result, right over to where Nocturne was trying to not have Phantom go. Those fools, snarling quickly at the male maker, “insolent mortals!”, before moving to follow after Phantom.

They’re not quite fast enough. They don’t stop Phantom from getting hit by the large gooey rocket. It seemingly liquifies most everything from the shoulders down; sending the boy splattering into the pavement. They wanted Phantom asleep but this was Unacceptable! Roaring and tackling the human government worms, “how dare you dare harm a young one! Young zone’s hand and head! Little dignity! Sweet dear child!”.

It was pure chaos, immediate chaos, Jazz screaming as the ghosts ghostly tail wraps around her, Sam, and Tucker, basically flinging them at and in Danny. Sam muttering, “shit, shit, shit, shit”, while trying to push the bits of Danny soup back into a more coagulated pile.

Tucker ripping through his pockets, “thermos, fuck I should have a thermos right? Zone is that even a good idea?”.

Jazz snapping, “I don’t know Tucker, but you’re a better shot than I am and we have an issue!”. Tucker jerking his head up and wincing around, more G.I.W. agents had seemingly popped up out of nowhere… at least they were forcefully keeping the Fenton’s back. Small mercies. At least he managed to find two thermoses, passing them off to her and taking her pistol.

Tucker half kneeling, using a knee to help him aim, shooting two who shout back, “WE ARE THE GOVERNMENT! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO REIST! CEASE YOUR DEFENCE OF A MONSTER AND MENACE!”.

Maddie shouting in the background, “WE HAVE MORE RIGHT TO IT THAN YOU!”.

“Silence or you will be placed under arrest for interfering with a government seizure!”.

Tucker wincing, “Sam!”.

“I’m busy helping Jazz! Tucker! Figure it out!”.

For the first time in a long time all three of them seriously wishing Val/Red or, heck, even Vlad, to show up. Tucker having to flatten himself, grabbing the back of Jazz’s shirt to get her on the ground too; a blast whizzing right over their heads. Him wincing at seeing a bit of Danny’s ‘goo’ spill out.

Jazz and Sam were honestly just stuffing what they could of half liquid Danny into the thermoses, not daring to actually suck him into the thing. And then there’s suddenly a bunch of Nocturne’s pillow shade ghosts around them, almost like a barricade, some throwing hands with and occasionally being destroyed by the G.I.W. agents.

G.I.W. agents scowling, struggling more than they’d like, “great, the monsters summoned minions”. Nocturne impales an agent with their elbow spikes, crushes the machine/vehicle completely underhand, and snarls again, form growing to cover the sky, “I HAVE NO TOLERANCE FOR THIS FOOLISH BEHAVIOUR!”.

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all wincing; at this rate Nocturne was going to knock out the whole town again or start breaking buildings. Sam and Tucker exchanging looks before both sigh and shout, “EVERYONE LAY DOWN! THIS ONE’S A FLOATING KNOCK OUT GAS!”. And… surprisingly a few people actually listened, not the G.I.W. obviously, though people might also be hitting the ground to avoid getting caught in cross fire since it was well known that the G.I.W. did not give a single flying fuck about bystander casualties. At least the Pillow Shades give all three of them the time to focus on getting Danny into thermoses. Tucker ripping off his hoodie and passing it to Jazz to get the not soup shoulder, arms, and head wrapped up somewhat securely; Danny groans.

The three all stilling at Nocturne’s black starry arm slamming down over Danny with a harsh yet soft, “sleep child”. Danny doesn’t groan again and his face relaxes. Jazz is the only one that can manage to give a small, “thank you”.

Maddie has no clue what’s going on. The fight was mostly normal, her and Jack hoping to maybe get in a good shot or get some new samples, when suddenly the place was swarmed with G.I.W. agents. It’s been a long time since her or Jack have actually liked the G.I.W., them firing live rocket rounds at an observatory full of children was the last straw for her, and right now they’ve fully pissed her off. Her husband, Jack, was the one to hit the ghost first, they might have taken It down but It was still their hit first! They had more claim! But fighting this many agents was out of the question, especially with the ‘villain’ ghost summoning shades, it would do her kids no good for either of them to get arrested.

But at least she understands the G.I.W.’s actions, she can even rationalise what sounds like some teens actions to protect Phantom. The G.I.W. were hated by the teen populace, Phantom was disturbingly belove-d. She didn’t approve of some teens putting themselves in danger like this but at least it made sense. Now this ‘Nocturne’s’ actions? Those did not make a lick of sense. Why was It defending not only Phantom but seemingly also the teens that were defending Phantom? Why had It called Phantom a ‘sweet child’? It made no sense. Ghosts had no understanding of age, nonetheless childhood versus adulthood. Perhaps ghosts could tell when a ghost was a newer ghost, but sightings of Phantom have been recorded since ancient Egypt and It had been haunting Amity for multiple years now. It wasn’t a fresh ghost. The other terms It used seemed like merely other ways to say the same thing, linguistic complexity were not supposed to be truly possible with ghosts; Phantom was abnormal with Its use of puns and that was it, and Its heightened exposure to humans increasing Its vocabulary.

She watches, using the G.I.W.’s distraction to slip behind a different building, as part of this Nocturne ghost physically throws a G.I.W. agent through the air as Its form finally full blocks out all the light from the sky and sun. This ghost… was incredibly dangerous, far more than It had been while Phantom was fighting It. Do the ghosts ‘pull their punches’ when fighting Phantom? Why? How would any ghost have the self awareness to do such a thing? It didn’t make sense.

“MAD’S!”.

Maddie snapping her head to the side, seeing five of the pillow-like shades slamming Jack into a wall. “You let him go! You ectoplasmic fiends!”, raising her weapon only for a black starry portion of the ghost to push her down onto the ground. Jack slumping, unconscious, surrounded by grinning pillow shades that… lower him slowly? to the ground with happy? grins. The things even lay his head down gently? And now she’s getting lightheaded, foggy? Right those teens said It was a ‘knock out gas’ or something? Right?

G.I.W. agents are screaming in the background, the ghost lowers Its masked head to glower over her, “you, behave, your foolish words and thoughts bother the young one’s sleep far too much. You will be no bother to him now”. She glares, expecting the ghost to simply crush her, instead drifting off to sleep, eyes slowly closing.

Nocturne was not happy. Nocturne was not impressed. Nocturne was not willing to tolerate this foolishness. Phantom could act foolishly if the child so chose, as could his fraid, it could even be tolerated from those makers; but from human mortals who were not even his possessions or loyal servants? Hmph, absolutely not. They press their mass down on the buildings, through their own might or their Sleeper shades they send all inside to sleep. The ones outside put down gently, as the little prince would hate for harm to be done; the ones that listened to his little fraid will be promised lovely sweet dreams as their reward. The mortals who fight them however, they will be knock out by blows and impacts, only fitful nightmares awaiting them for their disrespect and foolishness.

Their Sleepers communicating that the prince’s fraid had gathered up what of him they could, good indeed, he was hurt, foolish mortals having dared to have done such to the Infinite Realms most precious one; to do so to any child ghost would be unacceptable.

They push portions of themselves through the veil between worlds, tearing opening a portal between the land of the living and the land of the dead. The young prince’s fraid and nest-mate could cart him off to where is best. Whether that be another ancient more familiar with his physique than them or one of the many clans that worshiped the child, or his Infinite Realm bound lair perhaps? The FrightKnight even? They wouldn’t object too much to them taking the little one to their own lair, but that would hardly do him much good beyond further gentle restorative sleep.

Phantom’s mortals scooping him and the cylindrical devices Phantom loved to use that they’d put the more liquified portions in, all three moving through the portal and Nocturne letting it snap shut right after. They had hardly any interest in spending energy maintaining a portal, when they had punishments to dole out.

These men, why so many of them feared being dirty they did not get, but they will make everything dirty then. Every inch of their machinery and weapons they have their Sleeper shades stuff them full with dirt, mud, animal manure. Every red liquid Nocturne could locate in the young one’s lair gets dumped on their suits, scratching their glasses up and imbedding them with rocks.

Those makers of his get their weapons destroyed but nothing more… besides unpleasant dreams of exactly what would befall this simple town without its lair master and protector.

Nocturne settles themselves over the city, content to keep everything inside trapped in slumber till the sweet little prince returned. Any outsider attempts to get in will be crushed, be they helicopter, tank, or other vehicle; all life forms residing inside said machines sent to slumber, bodies scattered around the parameter like dead flies surrounding a carcass.

FrostBite was having a good day, SwiftSnout had her baby perfectly fine, ColdStep’s aim had gotten noticeably better, and IceHorn’s sweetsuckle had finally produced berries. So, FrostBite was having a good day, was. He was until the Great One and his fraid and nest-mate showed up; he’d been so distracted by the Great One’s state that he hardly noticed that they somehow arrived in the middle of the foxdew den while he’d been feeding the little mongrels. The smell of sandalwood, rose, and patchouli that accompanied their arrival telling him that Ancient ClockWork had some hand in the peculiar sudden arrival, even if the portal was clearly one of Ancient Nocturne’s.

FrostBite rushing over to the children, The Great One smelled strongly of lavender and chamomile so he doubts the young god was unconscious of his own will. However… that appeared to be something of a kindness, considering his state. He had a minor cut on his head and a small burn on his shoulder, just beneath his shoulders he cut off jaggedly into goo, the goo half dripping and half floating vaguely attached and seeping into a worrying collection of thermoses. “What happened? Come, we’ll get you to the infirmary immediately”.

Lady Sam scowling, “G.I.W. happened, those jackasses”.

Miss Jazz, giving him a better explanation as he scoops up the Great One and the thermoses in his arms. Lady Sam, Pharaoh Tuck, and Miss Jazz all climbing on his shoulders as the young adult speaks, “he was sparring with Nocturne, he’s been skipping sleep again. Jack got a shot in on him and the G.I.W. took advantage of that”.

FrostBite nodding respectfully as they get into the infirmary, “ShardHeart, get the lay down capsule out, he’s mostly goo so we need to keep that all contained together”. She nods at him immediately and gets to work with professional ease.

Sam and Tucker grimace, dumping their thermoses into the capsule, trying to not splash it on Danny’s face. Tucker grimacing, “we’re not really sure what he got hit with, only that is was very big and rocket shaped”.

FrostBite nodding, “and this-”, nodding his head down at Danny, “-happened immediately?”. Both teens nodding immediately. “Alright, we’ll assume there’s some form of contaminating substance mixed in with him, since he’s not reforming and healing on his own”. ShardHeart hooking up a filtration mixture, effectively just dumping the resulting powder in with the Danny goo; his ectoplasm was basically already exposed so there wasn’t any need to ‘feed’ it into him. FrostBite pushing all three back away from the capsule as mist starts steaming out of it, impurities leaving Danny’s ectoplasm. LeftSnow sticking some kind of detector type tool into the mist, sucking it up, and frowning, “yeah this is a high corrosive, could have ended a weaker ghost”.

Sam crossing her arms, “so if they’d hit Danny with this when he was fourteen he’d probably have been ended”. LeftSnow nodding seriously, “that would be very likely, yes”. Sam just scowls and continues watching Danny from a safe distance. LeftSnow continuing to suck up the substance to make sure it doesn’t have the potential to mix in with the Zone’s free-floating ectoplasm.

After about ten minutes Danny just snaps back together as he’s supposed to, making a face and groaning a little, doesn’t wake up though. Jazz shaking her head, “Nocturne can be a bit of a pain”.

FrostBite chuckling, “it doesn’t help that the Great One ignores his need for sleep so often and readily”. Jazz shaking her head, “and I keep telling him how bad that is but somethings are more important to him than sleep”.

Sam scoffing, “not much different from you and your studying”.

“That will advance my career and it’s educational”.

“And Danny has needs and he’s helping people”, Sam nodding to herself, “that’s a better reason”.

Tucker shaking his head at the two girls, looking to ShardHeart, “is he good for us to take back home? I’m pretty sure Nocturne has basically just taken the whole place over and isn’t going to leave till the ‘little dignity’ is back”. FrostBite chuckles to himself but doesn’t comment.

ShardHeart hums and eyes the sleeping boy, “I would prefer to keep him here for observation, but he’s going to wreck things if he wakes up and realises anyone kept him here longer than absolutely necessary”. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all laughing or smirking at that, because it was very true. Danny was a shit like that. Either way ShardHeart and LeftSnow waving them to go ahead, Sam and Tucker picking him up by his wrists and ankles. Jazz nodding, “now, how? Are we supposed to get back?”. Earning owlish blinks in response.

FrostBite sighs internally, he really had been having a nice largely relaxing day.

The G.I.W. were pissed their newest corrosion rocket -which may or may not have qualified as a war crime and possibly a violation of the Geneva convention- was supposed to completely dissolve any ecto-filth instantaneously, nothing more needed. Just reduce Phantom to goop, do crowd control, keep the Fenton’s from getting involved or claiming ownership, and collect the remains for further study. Phantom maxed out their ecto-scanners, It was a powerful monster, if they could eliminate It then the ghost issue would be solved and they could move on to that disgusting false afterlife where the creatures resided. But no, not only did it not fully work, but the other ghost that they had been banking on as a suitable distraction had been far stronger than they had been prepared for.

While one agent had managed to fire another round at the Nocturne ghost before passing out, however the ghost merely tore off the part of It that corrosively liquefied and threw it at them like feces.

The cleanliness violations were piling up rapidly. Head office would not be pleased.

A bunch of teenagers even managed to not only stop them from getting so much as a single sample but also were able to flee with the ghost. A complete failure and waste of their (the taxpayers) money… well not entirely. They’ve learned that at least this other strange ghost that maxes out their scanner would ‘protect’ Phantom, it confirmed their theories, Phantom was very much one of the monsters just toying with humans, except far more sinister. Phantom was trying to fool the American people, break down their distrust, and then like all other ectoplasmic filth attack the American people. It was far more a threat to national security and the American people than any other abomination. The fact that every agent that went near that town now became unresponsive was further proof; they were being blocked by a clear aggressor ghost from talking to, giving aid to, or reprogramming anyone while Phantom was mia. Clearly a plot. Clearly an attempt to stop humanity, America, from reclaiming her town from the clutches of Its kind. Vile monsters.

Then the large ghost swirls in on itself, funnelling down into the town, Agent F squinting, “go, get in there. The thing must have run out of steam. Get something of a foothold in there before Phantom returns or It regains its strength”, grumbling, “probably by eating someone, foul creatures. Those indoctrinated townsfolk would probably view the sacrifice as a blessing”. Multiple G.I.W. armoured vehicles that had been on stand by start moving to converge on the small town.

Nocturne grins, hunched over and coiled around the little prince, so much power and healed already. The Infinite Realm would bloom under him, they’re pleased not only for that but also that a child ghost hadn’t been ended on their watch. No child ghost, especially not this one, should be ended and especially not by living mortal hands. Pathetic living creatures, acting as if they’d earned their existence the way the dead have. They were only alive by the random chance hands of the reincarnation and creation cycle, ghosts had earned their place to exist by necessity and by suffering.

That darkly dressed fraid-mate puts her hands on her hips and glares, “you better wake him and everyone up or so help me I will find a way to fell an Ancient”. So headstrong, so commanding; as if she had any place to order them around truly. But, they’d… respect this ghost child’s fraid, the High Ghost Prince’s fraid.

So with an eye roll, they release their mental hold on the little one and his little lair-folk. The roar of those silly mortal vehicles approaching from the distance, they’re tempted to do something about it but well….

FrostBite huffs, cracking a set of knuckles, “this”, smirking wolfishly, “will be fun”.

The little prince grumbling a, “that’s nice, Frostypa”; while the young ones fraid basically yanks him out of Nocturne’s grasp, as if Nocturne wasn’t actively allowing them to do so. The boy is hardly worth sparring with now and he’s quite well rested as well, they’re content to take their leave entirely. Let those FarFrozen yetis deal with the silly government mortals that dare threaten a child ghost; and let all Phantom’s little lair-folk wake up to an interesting show.

By the time Jack woke up, he could hear chanting, the kind he’d expect to hear at a sports game actually!

“Woo! Go get ‘em yeti guy!”.

“That’s right! Sock him in the jaw! Go for the crotch!”.

“Burn! Baby! BURN!”.

“Who’s the ghost with the most!?! Not you! But still kick his ass!”.

Jack shaking his head and sitting up on the side of the street, right he’d got a shot in on Phantom and then all Hell broke loose and he got? knocked out? by a pillow ghost. At least it didn’t feel like he’d bumped his head!

It takes him a bit to get to where all the noise is coming from, expecting Mad’s to already be there (she is), and staring a bit. There was a yeti, a ghost yeti but still a yeti, snarling and throwing both G.I.W. vehicles and G.I.W. agents around like toys! The ghost even reminded him of himself even! The ghost laughing boisterously and grinning, all sharp teeth, happily.

But also! He’s never seen a ghost yeti before! Did It form based on common human myth and lore? People’s superstitions perhaps? So many possibilities! And clearly Mad’s had the same idea, since she’s hiding around a building taking notes. Heck, even Phantom is just observing somehow looking no worse for the wear!

A G.I.W. agent grumbles, “damn freaks, this town is completely insane”. Jack couldn’t even disagree with that! But also, the G.I.W. tried to buy away all his life’s work and he’s not about to actually side with them.

Phantom shouting, “tell him to suck on deez nuts!”. And for some absurd hilarious reason the yeti ghost actually does it. Jack can’t help but laugh, even if he didn’t get the darn ghost boy this time there was always more chances and he’d rather lose Phantom today than let the G.I.W. have his prize. Phantom was so strange, the things they could learn! That privilege belonged to proper ghost hunters! Not some silly government group!

Was Danny a fan of his random bullshit day? Obviously not! Nocturne went and rode his ass about his sleeping habits again, then his dad decided to shoot him one in the back like that wasn’t totally a cheap shot, and then G.I.W. decided to liquify his ass… and legs and stomach and feet. Sure he got to catch up on his sleep but he also probably gave his Frostypa a minor core attack or at least made the guy shake his head at Danny’s general bullshit; even if FrostBite made some comments after about it ‘having been a while’ since he ‘terrorised some humans’, good to know at least one or two ‘yeti’ sightings was probably ol’ Frosty messing with some poor idiot.

At least Danny didn’t really remember being half goo, even if Jazz told him it was very disgusting and Tuck said he was the consistency of syrup, Sam just smacked him and told him to pay more attention to his surroundings. Hey! It wasn’t like he really needed to, he was a tough cookie these days.

But the G.I.W. were chased out of town again, his sister and friends were disappointed in his dumbassery yet again, and his folks were so focused in on their new findings (ghosts can possibly be formed from myths and legends! Is this amazing! Apparent Phantom is still a child somehow! It’s my that weird! We should write another biased and bigoted paper based near entirely of our half baked assumptions! Aren’t you proud!?! Don’t you want to run FentonWorks some day!?! Do you want to help write a paper even though you’ll have to leave out all the actual facts you know!?!) that they couldn’t be bothered to chase Phantom him around for a while.

So everything’s an even win in his opinion. Even if even Val/Red called Phantom an idiot for thinking everything was a net positive. She shot him, he made a joke about their relationship being a little too sadomasochist for his liking, she shot him again; then he went home for some only one third burnt pasta and aunt Alicia’s pie (Danny did not have a slice. Danny could smell that someone peed in it. Jazz followed his lead. They both cringed at their dad having a slice merrily).

End.

Prompts: When the GIW/Fentons get a lucky shot on Danny during a ghost fight, severely hurting him, the ghost he'd been fighting suddenly gets very protective and attacks the ghost hunters. Something about them hurting a baby? GIW encounter leaves Danny down for the count, forcing his friends and Jazz to step in to defend him until he can get taken away to the Far Frozen.