Here's my piece for the first day of Phantasy Phest- Fantasy Eldritch AU @phantasycentral
Danny stares up at the building. It's nondescript, just some random office building in Chicago.
Or, so one would think.
He takes the last few steps to the door, raises his hand, and knocks.
Truth be told, some random, nondescript office building in uptown Chicago wasn't exactly what he was imagining when he agreed to go to the Conclave.
He sticks his hands in his pockets and stares up at the door, waiting to be let in.
Becoming the King of Ghosts wasn't something that he had planned on. Finish middle school, go to high school, go to college for something STEM related and get his master's degree or go to one of the NASA pilot schools, and be an astronaut. That had been the plan.
And then... zap, and ghosts were real and also his problem.
Danny sighs and knocks again.
"You know, if you don't let me in I'll just phase through the door," he calls.
He's in his human form right now, which is probably why they're ignoring him. Though, it is his first time at the Conclave, and the first time a ghost has been to one in a very long time.
The door opens soundlessly; no one stands there. Alright, he can appreciate the creepy aesthetic.
He strides in through the door, head held high. As he crosses the boundary, he lets his transformation wash over him. His steps lighten as his hair does, gravity and color both bleeding from him. The faint chill and weight of his crown settles over his head and his shoulders become just a tad bit heavier as his cloak manifests out of the aether, the fabric-but-not flaring out behind him as he walks.
The inside of the building is nothing like the outside. The plain, ordinary facade outside is carried over for about seven or eight steps before he comes upon a shimmering barrier. Stepping through it feels like walking through a cool mist, faint popping spreading over his skin from the magic in it.
Past that point, the interior design matches up better to his imagination of the locale of the Conclave. It looks like the inside of an old castle, the dingy grey linoleum switching to a warm, wooden floor covered in a blood red carpet. The walls are stone instead of the off-white painted drywall, stretching high up to thick, wooden beams that bracket the tall, arched ceiling. Torches are positioned at regular intervals on the walls, burning with a pale purple flame; heavy and dark metal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, that same pale purple flame burning there instead of any candles.
He continues to walk down the red carpet—ha—to the massive, sweeping staircase at the end of the hall. The thing is made out of what looks like the same stone as the walls and the carpet continues up the stairs to the large, arched double doors.
Honestly, if it wasn't for his innate sense of space, he'd think that the magic barrier was a teleportation spell. As it was, it was only thanks to just that that he knew this was a sort of pocket dimension. He was in the same general area relative to where the building was, but slightly... to the left? Tilted. A little liminal, which he liked. He wasn't too familiar with the living's magic, but even he could tell that this was an impressive feat.
Danny finishes his ascent, finally standing in front of the double doors. They're similar to the chandeliers in that they're made out of that same dark metal. It couldn't be iron, though.
He opens the doors with a push of his telekinesis and strides through. A massive, circular table seating eleven greets him, the marble covered by a black runner and topped with more of those silver light candles in an intricate candle holder.
"Hello," he greets the assorted eleven mildly. "You have me at a disadvantage. My name is Danny Phantom. You all are...?"
Oh, some of them bristle at that. He can taste their irritation and incredulity. If he came back to another Conclave, they'd get to know very fast that he wasn't one to be respectful unless it was earned. Yes, these people were the rulers of their respective species. No, Danny didn't give a shit.
Surprisingly, one's threshold for respect and the like tended to shift after getting into fistfights with gods at the tender age of fourteen.
The woman at the head of the table speaks up first, raising her chin. "I am Queen Adelaide of the Witches. We tend to the this hall that hosts the Conclave, and bid you welcome to our table."
Her purple eyes flick over to look to the man next to her. He's thin-boned and almost waifish, reminding Danny of a hummingbird. His ears are also long and come to a point, but the feathers that sprout from his brows and wrap around his temples to mix into his hair strike out elf.
"I am King Ashok of the Avians."
Danny inclines his head to him. Just as before, though, the next person starts to talk almost immediately afterwards. He's tall, even sitting, with broad shoulders. His face is long, and his thick, bushy sideburns stretch down to his chin.
"King Bedwyr of the Werecreatures. I represent all the Were tribes."
It makes sense, since his eyes are also an inhuman amber gold. A werewolf, perhaps? Or a werebear? Danny dips his head once more. He's not too well-versed in were politics, since the Dead tribes are fiercely independent and territorial. Wulf was a bit of an outlier in that regard.
"Welcome, Phantom," the next woman says with a smile. It's sharp, though, and the lack of a title before his name is quite telling. "I am Myrto, Queen of the Sirens."
Ahh, alright.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he returns, just as mildly as his greeting. "I've always enjoyed talking with Queen Peisinoe when visiting her domain in the Realms. She's told me many stories about her time amongst the living. She and Lady Pandora are some of my dearest friends."
It becomes a little difficult to hold onto his mild smile as her eyes widen slightly and her face twists like she's bitten into a lemon, though.
He might be young, but he's been dealing with ghost politics for a while now. He can recognize the snub and return fire just as well as any of these people.
Peisinoe had told him how bratty the current Siren Queen was, though, so he's not too surprised.
"'ello!" The next woman, a chubby and red-cheeked lady with long, brown hair and a fur coat smiles at him. "I'm the Queen of the Selkies. Just call me Boann, though, King Phantom."
"Call me Danny, then," he returns, smile growing and morphing into something a little more genuine.
"I am King Celal of the mer. I represent all from under the water. It is a pleasure to meet the keeper of the Below Deeps."
Right. In the mers' religion, that's their afterlife. It's a pretty cool area, even if Danny doesn't often go. He makes the water too cold for some of the people living there.
"Well met, King Phantom." The next man looks similar to King [Avian], but without the feathers and with longer ears. His hair's long and thin and his skin is almost unhealthily pale. "I am the Erlkönig, the Elf King. You may call me Eadric."
"Well met."
"I'm Enitan, King Under the Mountains. Nice to meet ya!" The dwarf king is taller than Danny would've imagined, but the impressive, braided strawberry blond beard he's sporting fits right in.
The next person starts to talk even as Danny's still nodding at the Dwarf King.
"I am Verner, King of the Dragons." The man's eyes are like liquid gold and slitted like a cat's. Faint golden scales trail across his pronounced cheekbones up to and across his forehead, though it's harder to see them there thanks to the King's blond bangs.
"I am Doroteia, Queen of the Nymphs," the final woman says. She wouldn't look out of place in the Realms with her green skin and plant matter hair, vines and leaves cascading down her back.
"And finally, I am Ciprian, King of the Vampires." The last man says. He sits next to the Witch Queen, on the side opposite to the Avian King. They almost look like siblings, with the same pale skin—though Adelaide's was paler—and long dark hair. The only other distinguishing mark between them was the Vampire King's blood red eyes and more angular features.
"Thank you all for the welcome," Danny says, nodding to everyone in general.
He floats forward from the doors to the table, not putting on the pretense of walking. There's one open space there, but no chair.
Danny stops a short distance from the table. The others' chairs look standard and not like they'd brought or made them, so it wasn't a test of any kind.
Hm. Well...
"Queen Adelaide, you bid me welcome to your table. Was that merely a platitude?" He asks, perfectly and unnaturally still.
Tsk, tsk. Offering hospitality and then not being hospitable was quite the dangerous business—she of all people would know, keeping an elf in her council.
"Phantom," Adelaide starts, a pretty smile gracing her face despite the snub she just dealt, "You are the first of your kind in centuries to grace our halls. Please forgive us, of course, for being..." she trails off slightly, a tilting head cascading dark hair off her shoulder. "Hesitant."
"Oh?" Danny fishes.
"You wear an oversized crown, child," Verner butts in, chin high and draconic pride very clearly showing through. "More to that, you look human. What proof is there that you are whom you say you are?"
Ah. Ah.
Danny takes a breath. Then, he... relaxes. The boundaries between living and dead, thin that they already are in him, dissolve down to the merest atom, a whisper of a breath on knife's edge. Power whips about him with enough force to tousle his hair and toss the ends of his cloak about even as it shifts, lengthens, the night sky growing from his shoulders. His form unspools from his remnants of mortality, growing and bathing the space in him. Nebulae dance around the edges of the room, a starlight glow emanating from his form. The chill of deep space is contained easily enough, massing with the inexorable pull of gravity that makes up the dark of his chest and limbs. His crown floats over his head, burning the cold blue of ice planets, spikes of the stuff climbing in delicate spires. Small satellites orbit his crown—four of them, all different colors.
For all that Danny was starstuff, his eyes always were of the Realms. Green, green like the air and the earth and the everything that made up the Realms. Pure ectoplasmic green burns in his eyes, bright enough to be supernovae in their own right.
"Is this what you imagined? Am I properly monstrous now?" Danny asks, voice echoing throughout the room. He watches the Were King's fur raise, the Avian King's feathers ruffle. "I maintain a visage of humanity by my own liking, but I am so much more than just that."
He lets his form drift just a little more, his chest and arms whisping out like his legs until he's more or less a star-studded amorphous mass with a head on top. Even that, though, is... Other. His mouth is too large, he knows, and his eyes too deep and too many, all contained within his sockets, irises many and varied as stars in the sky.
His crown burns cold over his head, hanging in the air.
"I am the Shield of the After, Protector of the Beyond. I am the One Between, the Balance, the Shepard, and the Guiding Star. The Tyrant-Killer. Deathless and Lifeless. I am the High King of the Infinite Realms."
As much as he had raged against taking the crown—all he was trying to do was protect his town, after all—he couldn't help but admit to himself that he... kinda liked it. Not the power, of course. That he could do without. All that paperwork? The bowing and scraping? Nah.
But the fact that he was able to do these things, to be these things... to help the dead as much as the living... it soothed something in him, fulfilled him in a way that being the protector of Amity did.
"I accepted the invitation to this Conclave with the hope of improving relations between the Living and the Dead. I did not come to be ridiculed and doubted, especially by mere mortals such as yourselves."
He can see the various Rulers' breaths misting in the air, the temperature dropping father by the second. Space was cold, after all. Danny very graciously doesn't allow the oxygen and atmosphere to vacate as it would in actual space.
Mostly.
He doesn't want to kill them, after all, just... give them a little scare.
The edges of the room waver, the witches' spellwork trembling under his presence. He extends what may have once been a hand but now resembled more of a tendril, or perhaps a bit of a galactic swirl, towards the nearest surface.
It happens to be the table.
It takes laughably little energy to shore up the witches' spellwork, the space growing more defined in an instant.
Pettily, he also adds a chair to the weave. It's just barely bigger than the others' chairs, made from ice and upholstered in neon green fabric.
He positions his form above the chair and beings the annoying process of reeling himself back into something manageable and humanoid, gravity increasing and compounding until the black of his body folds onto itself, defined edges forming once more. He reels the stars back into himself, tucking plenty inside his cloak. The chill, however, doesn't completely disappear.
Danny's head is the last thing to come back to normal, growing smaller and less mindbendingly awful and settling in its proper position on his neck. His eyes don't quite go back to normal either, though. He keeps the depth and the multiplicity, since he's been complimented on their fear-inducing properties many a time.
"Now, may we begin?" Danny asks politely, voice merely ethereal instead of booming and all-encompassing.
Pale, the Witch Queen just nods.
---
"So, how was it?" Sam asks him later, fastballing a chocolate chip muffin directly at his forehead as he walks in through the door.
"Did the vampires sparkle?" Tucker yells his question from further into their shared home.
Danny snorts, snatching the muffin from where he'd instinctively made it bob in the air, held inches away from his skin. "The vampire didn't sparkle, Tuck. And it was pretty fun! I got to go full abomination!"
"Hell yeah." Sam holds her hand up and he returns the high five. "Whatever they did, they deserved it."
Danny laughs as he drops onto their couch. "Yeah, they're not going to make that mistake again any time soon."
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Der Gedanke meine Frau betrügt mich mach mich heiß
Dann ein Typ, der immer die Phantasie hat, dass seine langjährige Lebensgefährtin ihn betrügt. Das läuft denn so ab: Ich soll ihn quasi anrufen und ihm als gute Freundin der beiden erzählen, dass ich seine Petra gesehen habe. Zufällig in der alten Kaserne. Jetzt wo die Amerikaner weg sind, wird diese für vielfältige Dinge des Kulturellen Lebens umgestalten. Sehr viele Künstler haben sich dort etabliert und kleine Cafes und Bistros.
Da ich eben auch einen Tanzkurs mache bin ich dort gewesen.
„Und da konnte ich sehen, nein, zuerst habe ich sie gehört, dieses Lachen, von Petra, dieses ganz bestimmte lachen, Du weißt welches ich meine Rainer.“
„Ja aber... Was hat sie da gemacht Iris? Mir hat sie einen Zettel hingelegt, sie gibt der kleinen Sophie in der Schule Nachhilfeunterricht“, sagt er ganz
verstört.
„Nun ich...“ Ich zögere etwas, dann gebe ich mir einen Ruck und sage: „Ich bin dann näher an die Tür gegangen wo das Lachen herkam. Die Tür stand einen Spalt offen und da sehe ich Petra auf einem Tisch liegen die Beine gespreizt... Oh nein, ich kann Dir das nicht erzählen Rainer.“
Will ich das Gespräch abbrechen. Er dann: „Erzähl es mir ruhig, ich muss doch wissen, was los ist, sie ist die letzte Zeit schon so anderes gewesen. Was, Iris, hat sie dort gemacht?“
Ich räuspere mich und hole dann tief Luft. „Du willst es wirklich wissen, was deine Petra da so gemacht hat?“
„Ja“, sagt er. „Das will ich wissen, sag es mir Iris.“
Ich dann: „Gut, also deine Petra lässt sich da von gut gebauten schwarzen Männern ficken.“
„Meine Petra?“, fragte er fassungslos nach.
„Ja, deine Petra“, sage ich. „Und sie konnte nicht genug bekommen. Alle drei Löcher hat sie gestopft bekommen.“
„Alle drei...“ Seine Stimme vibrierte. „Aber das kann nicht sein, Anal lässt Petra nicht zu. Du musst dich versehen haben.“
„Hab ich nicht. Sie hat ihren Arsch schön hochgehalten und dabei gelacht und gesagt: Komm, steck mir deinen großen Prügel tief rein. Ich werde es genießen. Meinen Mann lasse ich da nicht rein. Der darf mich nicht anal
ficken. Sie hat wieder gelacht und gemeint, dein Schwanz würde sie nicht im geringsten so beglücken wie diese schwarzen großen Schwänze. Du hättest es sehen sollen, Petras weiße Haut und die schwarzen Hände wie Schattenmänner die sie unentwegt nahmen und sie, sie ist so was von gekommen. Nass war sie, ganz nass...“
Er dann: „Das glaube ich alles nicht, meine Petra… nein.“
„Doch“, sage ich. „Deine Petra hat es sich richtig besorgen lassen.“
„Meine Petra“, stöhnt er dann tief auf. „Meine Petra lässt sich von schwarzen Männern ficken...“
Jetzt ist sein Kommen angesagt und mein Ohr tut dann recht weh, weil er ist ziemlich laut dabei. „Danke Iris, das muss ich erst mal verdauen.“
Mir ein Rätsel warum so viele Männer tatsächlich immer wieder daraus aus sind, dass ihre Frauen von schwarzen Männern gefickt werden sollen.
-------------------------
Sonja Berner
TABU- ZONE TELEFONSEX - Die Zweisamkeit am Telefon
ISBN: 9783746713717
Format: Taschenbuch
Seiten: 280
12,00 €
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https://www.amazon.de/Tabu-Zone-Telefonsex-Zweisamkeit-Telefon/dp/3746713714/ref=sr_1_2?__mk_de_DE=%C3%85M%C3%85%C5%BD%C3%95%C3%91&keywords=Sonja+Berner&qid=1578423091&sr=8-2
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Yo Imma dummy and fell in love with your DP Phantasy AU and am brimming with questions. How does Val’s suit work here? What’s Vlad’s situation here? How does partial resurrection work? Like I said, brimming with questions, expect a flood later.
*slams my hands on the table* HI HELLO THANK YOU FOR LIKING THIS DUM AU IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY IM AKSNDAKSADKJ Im so glad you like this tho i really do qwq <3 <3 <3
Anyway umm be ready for a long answer because BOI I do have a lot to talk
because I did type a lot on the original description and then tmblr goes upload error on me so i lost all that so YEAH i hope u dont mind the long post
Feel free to send more questions tho im always down to talk :DD
So Vlad thing, I havent given that one much thought yet. But this is fantasy AU so he can now finally be the brooding-alone--in-his-oversized-castle vampire that he is
Valerie would be a rogue mercenary / bounty hunter (coz Red Huntress lol). I haven’t thought up how her S2 suit yet but she probably has a cursed gem on her glove or bracelet that slowly corrupts her. Maybe it could turn into armor like Trollhunter style that be neat :3c
NOW! The Ressurection thing!
disclaimer : im makni this with my very limited idea of dnd n game stuff so please do tell if its too far off??
But yeah, for this think of HP as your body hit point, and MP as your magic consist in your soul. When the portal open up on him, it needs something to anchor itself to both realm. The portal use Danny as said anchor and seperate his soul from the body, using the body to anchor to living world, and the soul to the ghost/dead realm. Should either of it got destroyed or killed, the portal would be closed.
Danny’s soul turned into a Lich, and his body is.. well it’s just there i guess. It’s alive techncially (thanks to sam’s ressurection attempt) but it doesn’t have a soul anymore. As a lich you can’t just.. get merge back into your old body. I mean you can possess it but that’s just not the same. Also because of the whole being turned into a lich, his body is basically his horcrux, which is an item lich use to store life force/soul. It what makes Lich almost immortal?? so long the item is not broken. maybe not immortal but you get the gist, it’s like voldie’s horcruxes basically, except he only got one
So now we have a) portal use both danny soul and body as anchor; b) danny’s body is his horcrux; c) if his body or soul is destroyed, the portal closes; and d) if danny’s body died, his lich form is no longer immortal
Sooo, in DnD there’s a system? In which if your health hits 0, you don’t immidiately die. You basically passed out, and then you have to do roll dices to wake up again. But if you got hit again in the 0 HP state, then you die for good.
I’m basically playing around this. If Danny’s HP hits 0, technically speaking he ded. Not full dead yet, but no more life energy in there to fuel/anchor the portal anymore, basically closing the thing completely.
AND it’s dead enough to weaken or alter Danny’s lich status to.. not.. complete undead anymore. So maybe MAYBE they can try to merge both the soul and the body back together. By using ressurection to jump start or force the soul to bound back with the body again
So that’s what Danny Sam and Tucker were planning for. More less sth like this :
why half lich? Because while no longer undead, he’s still technically a Lich sorta so.. partial lich? Also because half lich sounds cool so ye
Hopefully that explains it??
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