#phantasy phest 2023

[ovytia-art]

I offer you a moth Danny and bee Cujo 🤲

This is actually for Phantasy Phest though, and the concept of moth Danny lives rent free in my head, so I am giving Danny and Cujo a little original fantasy world make over <3

#phantasy phest 2023 #for context this is the fantasy setting I cooked up for my bug girlfriend ocs #I rotate it in my head a lot despite not talking about it much #sorry this is on lined paper I’m trying to use all my old supplies from school #art #drawing #dp #danny phantom #sketch #fanart #doodle #moth Danny #cujo #bee #bug #moth #fantasy #traditional art #.5k

[tourettesdog]

Phantasy Phest day 1: Fantasy Eldritch AU

An avatar/manifestation of the Zone. She wanders the Infinite Realms, aspects of the Zone clinging to and shedding from her form in an endless cycle. Blob ghosts flock around her, like cleaning fish following after a whale. She goes by many names, but most prominently Marrow.

#phantasy phest 2023 #phantasy phest #dp #danny phantom #phanart #danny phantom ocs #marrow

[five-rivers]

Stargazer, Moonweaver, Net

Hey, you. Yes, you. Have you ever wondered, hey, what would it look like if @five-rivers, @jackdaw-sprite, @seaglass-skies, @datawyrms, and @akela-nakamura all worked together on a fic for Phantasy Phest? No? Too specific? Well, if you had, it would look exactly like this fic here.

AO3 link

Tags: Lost Time, The portal accident, Phantasy Phest 2023, Alternate Universe - Modern Fantasy, Fairies, Blood Drinking, Moths, Clockwork has low opinions of the Fenton Parents, Transformation, Body Horror, Danny gets to say Fuck

Word Count: 11,197

Fic continues after cut.

.

"Ohno. Oh, no, no no nooooooo."

The stars were bright tonight.

Danny could even see them from where he was at the edge of a large clearing, where the trees stopped to wreathe the base of a hill.

Unusually, Danny didn't care.

"Nooooo," he said again under his breath.

Danny pushed at the net again. It reeked of garlic and sage the same way his parents’ nets always did, and the cord was rough and knobbly between his fingers. They must have woven this one with something extra.

He needed to get out. But with his flashlight fallen somewhere he could barely see the net or where it might end.

His flashlight. Where was his flashlight? Danny crouched, and began to grope at the ground around him. It couldn't have rolled too far, right?

The net folded up into his face, scratchy and unexpected. Danny flinched back but kept going, moving his hands in a circle. They met dead leaves and earth, and more than once he touched slimy and wet things he hoped were slugs.

He didn't find anything that felt like a flashlight.

"Heck," said Danny.

He sat down on the ground. The damp seeped into his pants but at this point that was a distant concern.

Maybe he could just find the edge of the net. It was a net. It had an edge. And his parents weren't always great at traps.

Danny pulled the net hand over hand in one direction and stopped when he felt something thicker cross over an arm.

He groped at it. It felt like the edge. Or an edge. One side didn't have all the net stuff. With mounting relief he followed it with his fingers–and discovered that it was attached to an opening only about large enough to slip a hand through.

There wasn't a tie that he could feel.

He couldn't find any other holes in it.

The relief withered. He was caught, alone, in the dead of night, in one of his parents' stupid monster catching nets. Without a flashlight.

And his parents, at best, might find him in the morning.

"Heck," said Danny, again.

Then he remembered he was alone, deep in the woods in the middle of the night, and no one would hear him.

"Fuck."

If only, Danny thought a while later, he'd brought his pocket knife. Or literally any knife. Something sharp to cut through the ropes.

None of the rocks he could reach had worked, though that was probably a little because he still couldn't see much of anything. It was really hard to wear through rope when you were doing it with a rock, blind. And through a net.

He was cold. His butt was colder from sitting in the leaves earlier. He kind of wanted to do it again, as a measure of his suffering. He wanted to be home, dry, and warm even more.

Maybe he could just wait for morning. Maybe his parents would know the trap had gone off, and come to check it. Maybe they'd check it anyway. They were the town crackpots for a reason. They didn't just believe in fictional creatures, they did so enthusiastically and with the kind of prejudice that made them set net traps in the woods. For one of their own innocent children to get caught in when he was only trying to stargaze on a clear night before school started in a few weeks. See some constellations, spot a few meteors, maybe a handful of planets, that kind of thing.  

Never mind that he’d maybe snuck out. Because he knew they’d freak out about him going into the woods alone. Because they believed in faeries.

Gosh, he hoped this didn't get back to Dash.

At least the stars were bright tonight.

He sighed and looked up, eyes automatically picking out familiar constellations.  The Big Dipper was easiest, although finding the rest of Ursa Major was less familiar.  All seven stars of Ursa Minor were easily visible, which again highlighted how good the seeing was. Then there were the other circumpolars.  Draco, Cepheus, Cassiopeia…  He could see the V of Andromeda, where it blended with Pegasus, and he could almost convince himself that–

An owl - he thought it was an owl - hooted somewhere nearby.  He jumped, which had the side effect of reminding him that, yes, he was still in a net.  He rubbed his shoulders and neck where they’d been rammed into the net.  Straining against rope shouldn’t have felt like running into a wall, but he supposed he did have his weight on the bottom of it.  

But he soon had other things to worry about than his parents’ irrational net design.

(Seriously, why was there enough room to stand up in this net?  What were they even trying to catch?  At first, he’d thought he could just walk away, back to town, even inside the net, but it was tied to something.  Maybe one of the trees?)

Sounds started to rise up from all around the clearing.  First the high-pitched chirr of crickets, then croaking, buzzing, and chirping.  Small noises, from small things.  

But with those small noises, Danny started to notice rustling and creaking and–  Was that a dog howling or a wolf?  Were there even any wolves here?  He remembered a unit in science last year where the teacher talked about wolves going extinct in some states.

The stars were bright tonight.  The woods around him?  Not so much.  

“People spend nights outside all the time,” he said out loud.  The word probably would have been more impactful if they weren’t whispered.  “All the time.  People go camping and hiking and stuff for fun.”  Never mind that they were usually more prepared to do so than Danny currently was.  And that most of the time, they could decide to just leave and go home or get a hotel room if camping got to be too much for them.  He continued, more loudly, “I just have to wait for morning.  They’ll find me in the morning.  And– and if they don’t, I’ll be able to see.  I’ll be able to get myself out.  I’ll be fine.”

If nothing ate him first.  

No.  No.  That was–  What out here could even eat him, anyway?  Wolves, yeah, okay, but were there wolves?  Still unclear.  Bears?  If there weren’t wolves, he doubted there were bears.  He’d never heard of any bears out here, anyway.  What else could eat a human who wasn’t, well, already dead?  Cougars?  That one school, a couple districts over, had a cougar for a mascot, didn’t they?  That didn’t really mean anything, though.  What else, what else…  Feral pigs?  Those were supposed to be invasive around here, weren’t they?  Danny had kind of laughed at the idea of it in class, but, here, now, in the dark, was a different story.   

He was pretty sure anything else was too small.  So.  Three things out of how many animals?  Thousands?  Yeah.  Yeah, the odds of those three specific animals showing up to bother him were low.  Yes.  Nothing wrong with the math there.  No siree.  

(And the stuff his parents were worried about, the stuff they’d set this trap for, that stuff didn’t exist at all, so he didn’t have to worry about it.  There were no werewolves, no chimerae, no hobgoblins, and definitely no fairies.  Wasn’t even worth thinking about.)

A branch snapped.  Then another.

He’d thought the owl was close, but this sounded closer.  And those didn’t sound like small branches.  

A deer?  There definitely were deer here.  Sam talked about deer resistant and repellent garden plants, sometimes.  Deer could get big.  Like, reindeer were huge, right?

It was dark under the trees, but by starlight alone Danny could still perceive a shadow moving among other shadows.  Something tall.  Something not shaped anything like a deer.

The shadow came closer.  

Danny held his breath and shrunk down against the nearest tree.  He couldn’t fight a bear.  Not even when he wasn’t caught in a net.

"Hello."

"Hi," said Danny back, on autopilot.

Danny continued staring at the shadow for several more tense moments before it occurred to him that it had talked.

"Wait, you can talk?" Danny asked.

"It would appear so," said the shadow, and did not move.  Now that Danny was looking and thinking rather than just freaking out, the shadow looked, well, pretty humanoid.  Tall, sure, and wearing a long coat with a hood - or maybe a dress?  And that could be long hair.  Significantly less weird in the middle of the summer than a coat - but humanoid.  

Human, he should say.  Outside of, like, parrots, there weren’t a lot of other things that could talk.  No matter what his parents said.  

"Um. I'm a little stuck," said Danny.

"Really?" The shadow did not sound surprised.

"Can you, I don't know, cut the net loose? Please?"

The shadow hummed. "I think the more interesting question is why you're stuck in the first place.  One does not frequently encounter those such as yourself in the woods so late at night."

Oh, wow.  Danny could empathize with the curiosity.  He really could.  This was a weird situation to come across, and whoever this was, they must be just as confused as Danny.  But he also really didn’t want to explain anything about this to a stranger.  And he would really rather be out while talking to what was, yet again, a complete stranger.  

… Humans were pretty dangerous themselves, come to think of it.  

“Yeah, I guess not.”  He swallowed.  “Why are you out here, anyway?”  Maybe he was being rude, but the shadow had asked first.

The shadow shifted, looking up.  Starlight limned pale skin and a sharp, straight nose in shades of gray.  “The stars.  The sun is too bright during the day.  It is easier to see them at night.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  Maybe, hopefully, not a murderer, then.  Just another person out stargazing.  A weird person but…  Danny didn’t exactly have room to talk.  “Yeah.  Me, too.  Since the moon isn’t up and all.  I just, uh, ran into this.  Trap.  Thing.”  He tugged at the net.  “And now I can’t get out.”

The shadow’s head tipped back down.  “Can’t you?”

“I really can’t.  I can’t even figure out how it’s tied on.  Do you, like, have a flashlight or something?”

“I do not.”

“Not even, like, one on your phone?”

“No.”  The shadow leaned forward, and might have held out a hand, but if they did, they didn’t touch anything that Danny could feel.  “What a curious and terrible thing,” murmured the shadow.  “What cruelty and carelessness, to leave it to trap the unwary.”

Danny winced.  Yeah.  Yeah, okay, it kind of was, and it was probably a small miracle that no one else had ever gotten trapped in one of these things.  

That Danny knew of.  

He pushed the thought of his parents absent-mindedly forgetting to check one of these traps, or only checking them once a week, out of his mind.  His parents were crazy and kind of forgetful and… well, the point was, he would have heard if something had… happened.  

They wouldn’t do that, anyway.  

“Yeah.  But, um.  Even without the flashlight, please, help?  Just, maybe if you could untie me, or if you have…”  Did he really want this guy to have a knife?  Not really.  Still.  “Something to cut with, maybe?”

“I cannot cut the net in which you find yourself.”  The shadow shifted again.  “However, I will stay with you until you are free.”

“Maybe if you tried some of the knots, you could get me out, though,” pointed out Danny.  

“I have encountered ropes like this in the past.  They do not agree with my skin.”

“What, like, you're allergic?” asked Danny.  

“Something like that.”

Just his luck.  He was found, but the person to find him was… incredibly strange.  And not very useful.  And had possibly run into his parents’ nets before and had a reaction to them.  

“Okay.  But maybe you could call for help?  I mean, I know you said you don’t have a phone, but you could go get someone who can get me out?”

“Child,” said the shadow, with a touch of amusement, “there are things in these woods that would eat you whole.  I am equipped to deal with them.  You are not.  It would be irresponsible of me to leave you while they wander.”  They settled themselves nearby.  “Besides, I can see the stars here as well as I could elsewhere in these woods.”

“Eat me?” squeaked Danny.  He'd thought about bears earlier, but not, like, out loud.  Talking about them out loud was different. He cleared his throat. “You mean like bears?”

“In some respects,” said the shadow, still amused.

"Okay, um." Danny really did not like confirmation that there were bears around. He could have gone without knowing that. Except he probably should know. Considering he was in a net.

The net.

Which the stranger somehow thought he'd be able to escape on his own?

"Hey, um. I have been trying to get out for a while," said Danny. "It hasn't been working. You're sure you can't do anything to help?"

"There is more than one kind of trap here."

Danny blinked.

Crap.  That would be just like his parents, wouldn’t it?  They couldn’t leave it at just one stupid trap in a public space, they have more.  “Where?”

“You will not be able to see it from your perspective, but I have no doubt it would close were I to attempt to free you.”  

“Great,” said Danny.  He took in a shuddering breath.  “Great.  And you, what, think I’ll be able to avoid it on my own?  When I can’t even see it?  Or is this a ‘wait until morning’ thing?”

“You will, at least, be less liable to be eaten by wild animals at that point.  And more able to untie knots with the light of day.”

Okay, yeah.  Danny had been thinking both of those things as well, but with someone here, he’d hoped… 

He rubbed his eyes, tiredly, and, to his absolute horror, his stomach rumbled.

“Are you hungry?” asked the shadow, as if Danny wasn’t already embarrassed enough.  

Danny mumbled something indistinct.  He had eaten.  Just…  The main course had…  Well, some things were better left unsaid.  The salad (courtesy of Jazz) had been okay, and so had the carrots.  He’d felt full right after dinner.  He had.  

But, yeah.  He was hungry.  Dinner had been hours and hours ago at this point. 

“I have food enough to share.”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “Okay?”

Something moved under his nose, and he flinched.  He hadn’t seen the shadow move.  

“Um, I’m not sure I can…”  He tried to wedge his fingers into one of the holes of the net.  He’d lost track of the opening.  

“They are small.  They will fit.  Hold out your hands.”

Danny, only a little skeptical, held out his hands. As promised, several round, slightly damp things, like largeish marbles, were dropped into them through the holes in the net.

“What are these?”

“Star jelly.”

“Like, from starfruit or something?” asked Danny, interested.  He squished one between his fingers.  It was springy, like a gummy.  But still.  Damp.

“Or something,” said the stranger.

“Why is it damp?”

“It hasn’t dried.”

Well. That was almost no information at all.

“But it’s edible?”

“I enjoy them regularly.”

Danny huffed slightly.  This guy was weird.  Again, that was the pot calling the kettle black, but Danny didn’t go around offering weird food to strangers.

No, he went around getting trapped in nets.

And he was hungry.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t eaten weirder things. His parents could be creative.

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to accept food from strangers, but…  This guy was his getting caught in a net buddy.  And he had to admit, he was pretty mad at his parents right now.  It’d serve them right, that Danny was eating someone else’s food.  

Did that make sense?  Maybe not.  But it wasn’t like any of the stuff Sam or Jazz did made any sense, either.

Plus, it had ‘star’ in the name.  He basically had to try out at least one.

He squished the smallest between his fingers one last time, then popped it in his mouth.  

He chewed.

There was no burst of flavor. It tasted… pretty bland, actually. All the way through. But the texture was okay.  Mostly.  It was at least better than what had happened to the chicken fated for dinner.

So.  Probably not poison.  

(Although why anyone would bother to poison him when he was quite literally trapped in a net was beyond him.)

“I also have a variety of mushrooms.”  

Who was this guy? The last hippie in Amity Park? A revolutionary war survivor?

“Do you have hardtack, too?” asked Danny, unable to help himself.

“I have biscuits.”

Oh thank goodness. Normal food.

“Can I have one?”

Something distinctly cracker-like was placed in his hand.

Danny didn’t even bother snarking, he just ate it. The texture was flaky, the flavor nutty and buttery and just salty enough to coat the whole of his tongue with flavor. He crunched into it again and the layers almost shattered between his teeth, then melted in his mouth like butter in a hot pan.

Danny swallowed. He’d never had a cracker that good.

“Can I have another?” he asked. Then, as more fell into his hands, “Where did you even get these? They’re great.”

“I baked them myself.”

Well.  That explained why he didn’t have a phone.  He was a hippie of some variety.  Danny didn’t comment aloud, though, too busy plowing his way through another cracker. He spent a little while chewing in blissful silence before he could swallow.

“They’re great,” Danny repeated, and had another one. And another.

“Ah,” said the shadow, “I believe that was the first proper shooting star of the night.” 

“What?” said Danny, looking up from his impromptu meal.  He licked his fingers, then stretched out the net, the better to see through it.  “Really?  Where?”  

“From the neighborhood of Cassiopeia, crossing her and going north.”  A pointed finger stood out in silhouette against the slightly brighter sky, tracing an imaginary line.

Danny sighed.  “I can’t believe I missed it.”  The Perseid meteor shower was, after all, one of the main reasons he risked sneaking out.  

“Many meteor showers reach their peak shortly before dawn,” said the shadow.  “As we will be here for some time yet, I believe you will have the opportunity to see many more.”

“But the first one…” Danny said, trailing off.

“The first from our perspective.  This shower has been going on for some time.  For someone to our east, perhaps it is, instead, the last.”

Danny grumbled.  

First the net and now this…  

Something golden green streaked across the sky and he perked up.  That one had been nice.  A breath later, a smaller, shorter one flashed at the edge of his vision, a tiny needle of light.  

“See?  There will be more for you to wish on.”

“That’s really not why I wanted to see them,” said Danny, wrinkling his nose.  Wishing was, well.  It was the sort of thing little kids did.  It wasn’t scientific.  It was the kind of thing his parents strictly forbade.

“It isn’t?”

“I…they’re cool. And it’s nice. Or it would be, if it weren’t for this net.”

“What would it hurt to make a wish?”

Danny sighed.  It wasn’t like they were wrong.  This situation was stupid and illogical.  So.  

“I wish I could get out of this stupid net. Before my parents find out about any of this.”

The stranger hummed in interest. “They don’t know?”

“They sure know about the net,” griped Danny.  He didn’t take his eyes off the sky, but he did tug on the ropes to make his point.  The rope was homemade, twisted with nonstandard fibers along with more common silk and hemp, rubbed with garlic and sage.  It was distinctive.  It was familiar.  It was something he'd probably tripped on a dozen times when it was left half-finished on the living-room floor.  “But it's not like I told them I was sneaking out. Like, who's going to tell their parents they're breaking rules?”  

The shadow hummed again.  "That is true."

Danny was distracted from replying or continuing by a pale, oddly oblong blur to the north.  It stayed in place, even as colorful shooting stars passed it by.  

"Is that–?" gasped Danny.  He leaned forward against the tension in the ropes and a similar, less tangible ache in his chest, as if he could get closer to the sky.  

The oblong blur widened into several similar streaks, like thumbprints on glass.  Green, pink, and purple began to seep into them.  

"There must have been a solar storm I didn't know about," said Danny as meteors shot through the undulating curtain of the Aurora. Delight was dancing in his stomach and thrumming along his limbs at the sight. "We hardly ever get the Aurora this far south." 

"It is an auspicious night for stargazing, then," said the shadow, "and one I am indeed glad to share, despite the circumstances."  

The thing was, they were right.  Despite the net, stargazing with someone who liked it as much as he did was nice.  It was really nice, despite the net.  Nice enough to wish, quite sincerely, and on a meteor that fell across the sky in that very moment, that they could do it again.  It probably would have been nice even without the Perseids and the Aurora, but with them he was practically giddy.

Briefly, Danny imagined how this meeting might have gone sans net.  

Okay.  Honestly, Danny probably would have run for it.  Weird adult in the middle of the night, after all.  He had briefly wondered if the guy was an axe murderer. 

He rolled his shoulders.  His back was starting to get sore - probably a combination of the net and how long he'd been looking up, but he didn't want to take his eyes off the light show even for a second.  

"My name's Danny, by the way."  They were kind of sort of friends now.  Stargazing buddies.  Net buddies, even.  Danny couldn't refer to the as 'the shadow' or as 'the guy who sat with me all night the time I was trapped in one of my parents' nets' forever, and he doubted the shadow wanted to keep mentally referring to him as 'that weirdo kid who got stuck in a net' for eternity, either.  

"I am honored that you would trust me with your name," said the shadow, tone strangely formal. 

"Uh, you're welcome?" Danny said.

"I go by Clockwork."

Wow. This guy really was strange, huh?  Was that his legal name?  Just a nickname?  A screen name?  Had he changed his legal name to that?

"Nice to meet you, Clockwork," said Danny, for lack of a better response.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, as well."

Pleased to make your acquaintance. Well. Danny's parents were eccentric too (see also: net. see also also: believing said net was going to catch faeries and demons.) and he was now almost eighty percent sure this guy wasn't an axe murderer.

Danny shifted under the net. He could try and shake hands, but the excitement and delight hadn't faded much at all and it was hard to focus on formalities when so much of him was full of so much energy.

Wait.

That was weird, wasn't it? Danny frowned. Should he have taken random food from a stranger? Clockwork had mushrooms, too. Had the star jelly been not just edible but an edible?

Was he high right now?

"Clockwork," Danny began, and the Aurora bloomed across the sky. The moment filled with shared murmurs of admiration, and by the time it died the thought had passed.

Even if the energy hadn't.

He flexed his fingers.  Maybe he’d run through some kind of itchy plant?  That might explain the tingle on his skin.  

There was a hollow, almost melodic popping noise from the vicinity of the shadow.  The vicinity of Clockwork, he corrected himself.  

“You should try to stay hydrated,” said Clockwork.  

A scent both floral and salty wafted up to Danny’s nose.  The green glimmer of the Aurora reflected off the glassy lip of a bottle.  “Is– Is that alcohol?” asked Danny.  “Are you offering me alcohol?  Wine?”

“I am not,” said Clockwork.  “This is far more nourishing.”

“‘This’ being what, exactly?” asked Danny, still vaguely suspicious.  

“It is mostly sugar and water.  Fruit juice, salt, nectar, among other things. As you would call them, electrolytes. You have exerted yourself.  It has not been purposefully fermented.” 

This guy and his weird food. Still, that didn’t seem…bad, exactly. Danny was thirsty, and he liked gatorade, and that was kind of similar, right? And he was curious.

The crackers had been good.  And even the star jelly had been edible.

It took some experimentation to hold the bottle firmly through the net.  The body of it was too large to fit through any of the holes.  But the mouth and neck of the bottle could go through, and Clockwork seemed content to hold it until Danny figured it out.  

The liquid inside was thicker than he had expected.  Sweeter and saltier, too.  The flavor was… interesting.  A little sour, a little bitter, a little… savory?  It definitely tasted like flowers smelled.  Only, it also tasted like something else?  A lot of something elses.  

He pulled the bottle back and licked his lips thoughtfully.  He… didn’t hate it.  It sure wasn’t something he’d just drink on his own, though.  On the other hand, taking that sip had made him realize how thirsty he actually was.  Which was very thirsty.  He must have gotten more dried out than he’d thought, first walking here and then fighting the net for who knew how long.  

He took another sip, trying to focus on the flavors he hadn’t quite been able to name.

And another.

Something in him settled as he drank. He hadn’t realized how nervous he’d been. Was it nervousness? He’d thought it was excitement. Delight. Something positive.  But now it was settling into something softer. Calmer. And yet the sky was no less compelling.

Maybe it was a different sort of happiness, now that the unexpected relief and delight of a fellow stargazer out here had calmed his nerves. Maybe he hadn’t managed to calm down until now, and the drink was finally letting him?

Regardless, his limbs weren't so tense anymore, and breaths he hadn’t realized had become so short were drawing long and even now, and that was a relief.

He alternated sips with looking up at the stars.  The Aurora undulated slowly, and was periodically pierced by meteors.  The stars behind the curtains of light were harder to see, but he could still pick out his favorites coming and going, first hidden, then not.  The motion of the lights almost made them seem as if they were moving. It was hypnotizing. 

He tilted the bottle back once more, and made a disappointed sound deep in his throat when he realized it was empty.  Huh.  He must have liked it alright after all.  That wasn’t a small bottle.  In fact, it was bigger than he’d originally thought when Clockwork had first given it to him.  

… He hoped this didn’t make him have to pee.  He was in the woods, but standing next to, um.  Well.  An impromptu bathroom.  Until dawn, at least.  Would make the net thing much worse.

“Done already?” asked Clockwork.

“I guess I was thirstier than I thought.”

“You had been exerting yourself for some time.”  Clockwork plucked the bottle out of Danny’s hands.  “But I believe that you will soon see the fruits of your exertions.”

Danny sighed and leaned more deeply against the tree he was attached to.  Subtly, he rubbed his back against the bark.  The soreness was getting worse.  “Not unless you see a rescue party.”

Clockwork hummed. “I do not. But perhaps you will not need one. The weave of the net seems looser, now. Can your hands fit through?”

Danny tested it. His hand fit through one of the holes easily. And another. It was the same with the third he tried.

“What,” he said.

“It is progress, is it not?”

“I don’t know how,” Danny said. “It’s not like Mom and Dad don’t tie these things at every connection. I didn’t think they could slide.”

“And yet your hands can fit through.”

“Yeah. I just wish I knew how that happened.”

“Dawn will come,” said Clockwork. “You will be able to see it then. Perhaps you worked them loose with your straining.”

“I guess,” said Danny, still wondering.

“And with dawn, you will be free, one way or another. For now, shall we focus on this spectacular sky?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.

He’d never seen a night sky like this before, after all. Even if he was stuck under a net, he had a …not a friend. But a fellow stargazer who was just as appreciative. And he was full, and no longer thirsty, and even the cold of the wet earth beneath him wasn’t as cutting with Clockwork’s company.

He settled in again to watch the lightshow, and worried at the cords of the net as he did. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do both, after all.

The stars flashed.  The sky spun.  Clockwork and Danny both exclaimed and pointed at particularly impressive meteors.  Clockwork noted the visible planets and occasionally pointed out asterisms Danny had never heard of before.  The Veil, the Key, the Mistletoe, the Dancing Maidens, the Hive, the Moth.  He half suspected Clockwork was just making them, and the stories that went with them, up to entertain Danny.  But, then, Danny was entertained.  He couldn’t complain.  Even when Clockwork tried to get away with calling Libra The Balance, Danny found his objections were more laughter than indignation.

The eastern horizon began to blush pale. Danny found himself almost disappointed at the sight, even if he’d be able to get out of the net soon. And really see Clockwork. After stargazing for hours together, it felt odd that he still didn’t know what the man looked like even though his voice was becoming as familiar as a friend’s.

He rubbed one of the net cords between his fingers.  Was it just him, or did it seem… scratchier?  Thicker?

He stroked the skin on his palms. Did he have rope burn, maybe? He had been pulling on the cords for hours.  And who knew what his parents had soaked the nets in after they’d been woven?  Danny sure tried not to.  

More importantly, before too much longer the sun would drown out the meteors and the Aurora both.  He wanted to press this sight into his mind to keep forever and ever.  And not just the sight, but the feeling of…  He couldn’t put a name to it, to what he felt, sitting here with Clockwork

It just felt important.

A meteor fell.  He wished it would last.  Another meteor, brighter.  He wished that even after Clockwork inevitably found out who Danny’s parents were and what they were like in person, he would still want to be ‘acquaintances.’  Friends.  Whatever.  He was weird enough.  Probably.  Like Sam and Tucker.  

He wished–

A huge fireball bloomed directly overhead, a celestial arrow angling down, north, wreathed in blinding green.  It took Danny’s breath away.  

He wished he could do this again. He wished he could cast off the shadow of his parents’ weird fae traps and property damage and hatred of creatures that didn’t even exist. He wished he could have the space and time to figure out who he was and who he could be, whether that was an astronaut, an astronomer, a screw up, whatever Jazz was trying to convince him to be that week, or, heck, even someone just as strange as his parents and Clockwork.  He wished he could be himself, could just shed the image of what they and almost everyone else seemed to see in him.  

Also, the net.  

Some of the net fell heavily around Danny’s shoulders, then slid off them.  He didn’t look down, still entranced by the after-image.  Then pain, white hot and as sharp as a knife, drove into his temples and back.  It took his breath away.

He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping for air and squeezing his eyes so tightly that tears began to slip out.  What had happened?  What was wrong with him?  He hissed out a shaky breath that was dangerously close to a sob as the pain redoubled, strengthening and strengthening again until static pulsed in the dark of his shut eyes.

It felt as though his head were splitting open.

The pain lanced down his back and he revised the thought. It felt as though he were splitting open.

And then his face came apart.

And then there were only scattered fragments. Scratching.  Growing. Stretching. The feeling of fingers on earth. The feeling fingers of earth. Unfolding. Squeezing. Balance; a knife’s edge.

A great and overwhelming sense of space.

Like a leaf before a storm, Danny trembled.

Eventually, it ebbed.

He was clinging to the ground with all his might, which wasn’t much; the whatever-it-was had left him weak. His limbs felt like jelly and seemed half as cooperative. He was gasping for air, each breath harsh enough to sting his throat. There was a blanket over him and he had the halfway-delirious thought that if Clockwork had a blanket he’d have appreciated it sooner than this.

He couldn’t feel the net.

Had Clockwork gotten him out once it got light enough out? It seemed much brighter now, even if the thought of opening his eyes made Danny wince.

There was a painful, high-pitched chirr sound in the background.  It hurt Danny’s ears and made him wonder if there was an injured animal nearby.  

Something pressed down gently on the back of his neck, where the fuzzy, fluffy edge of the blanket rested.  It removed itself, then returned at the top of his head, whereupon it slid down to the top of his back.  

Oh.  Oh.  He was being petted.  Comforted.  That must be someone’s hand.  Clockwork’s?

It felt… unusually satisfying.  Especially when they fluffed the ruff of the blanket which Danny was strangely aware of.  

Very gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, and he was able to start cataloging the parts of his body that hurt, which was all of them.  But there were a few that hurt more.  His eyes.  His ears.  His temples and the sides of his head.  His entire back.  His shoulders, neck, ears, and large parts of his spine felt like every hair on them had been individually plucked out and then sandpapered.  Speaking of his spine, that felt as if it had been stretched, pulled to bits.  And his back still felt like it had been stabbed.  Multiple times.  Especially around his shoulder blades and at the base of his spine.  

Other than that, he was just sore, everywhere.  

The quality of the chirr sound he’d been hearing started to change, morphing into a sort of purr.  One that rose and fell in time with the hand petting Danny.  

Huh.  

His hand flexed on the ground.  Something was…  There was something very off here, beyond the pain, but that was getting better, and he was starting to feel almost… comfortable.

His weight shifted again, and the ground shifted under it.

It was warm.

It was…damp? Wet. There was something wet under his hands.  Carefully, worried that it would move again, Danny took one hand off the ground and brought it to his face to sniff.   

It smelled good. It smelled wonderful, salty and hearty and just a little bit like chicken soup.

He licked it.

“There we are,” said Clockwork, softly.  “Take as much as you need.”  

Danny needed a lot, right now. His throat was raw, and he was thirsty and suddenly starving, and beyond that the pain that was still leaving echoes through his body. This was warmth and comfort and he wanted both.

He lowered his head and began to lap directly from the source, and warmth and comfort steadily filled him like the morning sun.

He pulled back, not exactly satiated, but needing something else, something different, now.  He made a soft, pleading sound, more like a chirp or a keen than anything human.  He didn’t understand what was going on, but part of him trusted he would be cared for.  Loved.  He’d already been given so much he didn’t know he needed…

Another plea escaped his throat.  It blended with the softening chirr, fitting with it far better than Danny felt it should.  

Something soft and sweet-smelling tickled his cheeks, and Danny dove in, his tongue coming out to search for what he knew was there.

Sweet.

Sweet, but not in the way of candy or even sugar. This was softer, perfumed, more reminiscent of honey but lacking that sharp note.

He wanted more.

As he pushed his face deeper into the… container… something touched his…  Touched…  What?  It was touching his… not his head, but something over it, something attached, something he could feel, and now that he could feel it, was thinking about it, whatever it was, he could feel its movements, as even the sigh-soft breeze pushed it around. 

It– No, they were something fine.  Something soft and delicate.  Something light and flexible and oh so very sensitive.  

The hand, Clockwork’s hand, stroked down his back again, and Danny realized he could feel the fluff of the blanket the same way he’d been able to feel the things on his head. And it trailed past that, to his horribly sore back, and down, all the way down, past where his back should end.

Down, to where Danny could feel something laying across a foot. Down, to where he could feel a hard object under him.

Something twitched, and the thing across his foot fell away. The hard something vanished, too, replaced with the soft ground he found himself on.

Danny chirred, confused.

Oh.  He had been the one making that sound all along.  But.  That wasn’t a sound he could make.  It wasn’t.  

He had to see what was going on. 

Opening his eyes was, perhaps, the single hardest thing he had ever done.  It wasn’t that they were stuck closed or anything, they were just so heavy, and a large part of him just didn’t want to know, wanted to stay half asleep, wanted to keep being held and petted.

Red. A deep, rich red puddled around him on the strange, soft ground. And the ground was uneven, and covered with small ridges and creases where it didn’t vanish beneath the red. Which was welling up from the ground like a spring.

Danny was wrist-deep in it.

A short distance from his face lay the biggest flower Danny had ever seen.  It was bigger than his head, its pale petals stained liberally with the red.   Handprints.  The red stains were in the shape of handprints.  Danny’s handprints.  

The red looked– Well, it looked a lot like–  Like a scene from a horror movie–  But it was coming from the ground, it couldn’t be.  It couldn’t be blood.  

Danny had been drinking this.  What had he been thinking?

“Are you feeling better?” asked Clockwork.

Danny looked around for him.  Then, he looked up.  

The very first thing he noticed was that there were still stars in the sky.  It was still dark, the Aurora was still bright.  The meteors were still falling.

Why could he see?

Why could he see so much more?  He’d only ever seen the stars like this in long-exposure photographs.  The light pollution was way too strong this close to the city.  

There were other, closer things.  The leaves on the trees were green, but they weren’t just green.  Their veins seemed to glow with soft pinks and blues.  He could see insects and birds, too, all of them strangely bright to his eyes, like they had swallowed stars.  

Then, there was Clockwork.  It had to be Clockwork.  There wasn’t anything or anyone else it could be.

“I will interpret that as a yes,” said Clockwork, smiling down at him with love clear in all six eyes.

He had the nose Danny had seen before, yes, and long, silk-white hair, but everything else was so far beyond what Danny had imagined that it was hard to even comprehend.  

And yet it suited him perfectly.

His skin was blue, like summer twilight, warm and rich.

His face glowed in the same soft, steady way as the birds, and set in it, his eyes were a kindly red. There were four on his right side but his left had only two; a deep black scar tore its way down most of his face and left two empty sockets in its wake. It was interrupted only by his primary eye on that side, and Danny felt tender relief that the old wound hadn’t taken that one, too.

White filaments made up a thick ruff around the collar of his– No, that wasn't a cloak, those were wings.  Huge, dramatic, moth-like wings, layered over one another.  There had to be dozens of them, all the way down his back.  They were as dark and starry as the sky on the outside, but some were turned towards Danny to show the luminous, moon-pale undersides.

Below that–below that, Danny couldn’t see. The ground he was on was too high, and Clockwork too large. The ground–

He wasn’t on the ground.

Finally, like disjointed pieces of a puzzle, the details became whole. The uneven place where he lay, with its softness and whorls of ridges and creases. The warmth of it, and the placement.

The–the blood.

He was on Clockwork’s upturned hand.

Forget the rest of it.  When, and how, did Clockwork get so big?  

Danny chirred a question. Wordless, overwhelmed and wondering.

(And why was Clockwork bleeding?)

“You are safe, little one. My little one.”

Danny chirred again, a little cross. That didn’t answer anything.

Clockwork only smiled, and then there was a gentle rocking motion as they moved. Like clouds, the trees in the distance slid sideways with deceptive speed. 

Danny settled, feeling sleepy, slow, and stupid, but still safe.  Like he should be able to make this all make sense, like this should make sense, if he was just a little more awake and aware, but that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t, because he would be protected.

And then, Clockwork tilted, and his hand jostled, and though he didn’t become more visible, they were suddenly surrounded by great spikes of grass and flowers, stories tall. Some of them drooped, heavy with seeds or droplets of dew. They hung huge and heavy from the stalks, like fruit ripe to bursting.

Danny blinked. Frowned. Blinked again.

There was something, an idea, that made sense. But it hung just out of reach, blurry, and every time he reached for it, the thought passed through his mental fingers like the morning mist.

It was, it should have been, obvious.

Clockwork would know. Danny chirred his question again.

“It will come to you,” Clockwork said. ”Give it time.”

Clockwork cleaned him off gently with a huge, damp cloth, taking special care with his ruff, antennae, and wings. He mopped up the blood pooling beneath Danny as well, with a reassurance that Danny was welcome to more if he needed it. With another hand, he laid another huge flower down next to him. The stem where Clockwork had held it glowed briefly, before it faded into the relative dark of early morning, leaving the flower with the same odd coloration as the tree leaves earlier.

Dawn was still hours off. He wasn’t in the net.

Danny looked up.

He’d wondered what it would be like to stargaze with Clockwork without the net.  Apparently, the answer was wonderful.

The stars were still so beautiful. More beautiful, now. There was such an incredible array of color and brightness in the sky, like a living painting. There was scarcely any black left in it.

Danny blinked, slow.  He rubbed his face with his hands, lingering over his ears - which felt long and soft, like a cat’s or a rabbit’s, he must really be sleepy - and the long fluffy things that had sprouted from his head.  They twitched under his fingers.  

He looked up at Clockwork, still hoping for an answer and… Clockwork had things growing from his head, too, now that he looked.  He’d mistaken them for hair, before, but while Clockwork certainly had plenty of that, braided, beaded, and beribboned, that wasn’t all he had.  

They were antennae.  Four of them.  White, fluffy, and softly glowing.  They were much longer, compared to Clockwork’s body, than Danny’s were compared to his.  Danny raised his hands to feel his again.  He had two.  And, maybe, behind each, a ticklish little nub.

It felt…right, that they should both have antennae, though. Satisfying. Comforting, like a hug. Like the stroking had been, and the blood.

What else did Danny and Clockwork share, now?

Danny’s eyes trailed carefully over Clockwork’s face.

Danny was pretty sure he only had two eyes, but he touched his face again, just to make sure.  Then his ears…  Clockwork had big, long ears, too, the edges of them soft with white fur. Just like his ruff.  Danny’s ruff was black shot with silver and… it was growing from his skin.  It wasn’t part of a blanket, which meant…

He twisted his head to check.

There was no blanket.  Danny had wings.  They were wrinkled and slightly damp, but they were wings, just like Clockwork’s, although he didn’t have nearly as many.  Two sets, to Clockwork’s uncountably many.  

He also had a tail. And only two arms, to Clockwork’s four. Somehow, in the moment, this seemed less important than the wings.

His eyes kept returning to his wings.

The outsides looked just like the darker parts of the sky did now, streaked with meteor silver and edged with Auroral green.  The insides were the same vivid colors as the Aurora itself.  Pinks, purples, blues, and greens all dancing together.

They were beautiful.  He definitely, definitely should not have them.

He wanted them.

He shouldn’t want them.  

He did.  

He drew them close to his body and looked up.

There was a huff of fond laughter. “Remember to fan them out, my little fledgeling. We want them to dry well.”

Oh. Right. Danny unfolded his wings again, a little embarrassed he’d forgotten.  

And then he returned his attention to the stars. He was determined to enjoy this for however much longer this might last.  Maybe this would all make sense in the morning.  Maybe all of this would be taken away from him.  Either way, neither was true now.

Now, Danny was here with Clockwork, looking up.

Now, the sky was vast and beautiful.  

Later, his eyes started to feel heavy again.  He pulled the flower close, and began to absent-mindedly chew on the petals in an attempt to stay awake.  He didn’t want to miss anything else.

Despite his efforts, his eyes began to droop. His head kept falling into his neck fluff, and the flower tumbled from his hands.

Clockwork plucked it from where it fell, and replaced it with a blanket, just Danny’s size.

“Some inevitabilities we must fight,” said Clockwork, “but this isn’t one of them, my dear child.”

For another few moments, he kept his eyes stubbornly on the sky.  Another pair of meteors fell, and he wished, perhaps selfishly, that this could last forever.  

But, he admitted to himself with a sigh, he was very tired.  

Danny curled up in Clockwork’s hand, tucking his head under the wings he was careful to keep fanned, and his tail around his head.

“Rest, my little one,” said Clockwork’s voice, already distant. “We can talk more when you are rested.”

And Danny did.

Dawn.

The kiss of the sun on the horizon.  The beginning of a new day.  The banishment of all things of the night.  

Danny jackknifed straight up as if its fire had been poured directly into his veins, heart pounding.  He woke just in time to see his new wings, his beautiful, terrible, fully spread wings evaporate like the morning dew.  

The antennae, the tail, and the fur that had grown around his neck and shoulders and down his spine stayed.  

More concerningly from Danny’s perspective, his perspective didn’t change.  He stayed small, just the right size to fit snugly in the palm of Clockwork’s hand.  

Clockwork’s wings stayed.  So did his extra eyes, his antennae, his skin color, and everything.  

This wasn’t a dream.  

Or there really had been drugs in the food Clockwork gave him. 

Why, oh why, was that the best case scenario right now?  Why was the best possible answer to the question of what was happening that he was just really really high?  

Because if he was just drugged, that meant he was only normal human stupid.  People took stupid drugs accidentally and on purpose all the time.  But if it wasn’t drugs, if this was real… That meant he’d somehow wandered into a world where his parents were right, had always been right, and he was probably about to get eaten.  

“I would not, and will not, eat you,” said Clockwork.  “I never would.”

“I don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do!” hissed Danny, pulling on his hair. “You turned me into some kind of– of moth boy.”  

“You would have turned regardless, trapped so thoroughly and so long on a faerie door on a night like that. I simply made sure that it was kinder.”

“Kinder than what?”

“Any number of things. Any number of fates. They do not give much more mind to cruelty than your parents.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It was their trap you fell into, dear one.  Without their actions, you could be human, still; safe and warm at home.  Though,” and here Clockwork smiled so gently that Danny couldn’t help but be comforted despite himself. “You are safe, and you are warm. And you could be home as well.”

Danny hunched his shoulders.  “What,” he squeaked, “is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that as you are, you would be in danger with those who made the net that trapped you. I mean that you would be welcome in my home, and cared for, and safe. You are not the first lost and lonely child I have found. Nor the first with parents who should have protected them, and did not.”

“You’ve kidnapped other kids?”

“I have adopted other children. Other children, who were not cared for as they should have been, not loved as they deserved. As you deserve.”

“My parents love me just fine,” Danny snapped.

“I see,” said Clockwork, and he seemed sad. “And your presence here in the night? Alone, without even a light to see by?”

“I snuck out. And I brought a flashlight with me.”

“Alone,” said Clockwork.

“I thought the woods were safe.”

“Why? Did your parents tell you they were?” asked Clockwork, eyes narrowed and nose flaring.

“No! No, they said they were full of monsters.”

“So they didn’t teach you we could be dangerous?”

“No, I–I didn’t believe them.”

“My child, humans can be dangerous. Even to other humans. Surely, you know–”

“I know that,” interrupted Danny. “I didn’t think you existed.”

Clockwork frowned. “Your parents set cruel traps for the unwary.”

“Because they are crazy. Were crazy?” Danny moaned, burying his head in his hands.  He resisted the urge to start preening his antennae and fluff. “I don’t even know anymore.”

“Their cruelty is the same,” said Clockwork, “Regardless of whether you believed the target existed. And they let you go hungry.”

“That wasn’t their fault.  They made dinner.  It just… didn’t work out.”

“Then whose fault was it?” asked Clockwork.  “Yours?  Your sister’s?  As parents, they should provide for you, not leave you to fend for yourself.”

“They didn’t leave us to fend for ourselves,” scoffed Danny, crossing his arms.  

“What do you call them leaving to go test what was left of that chicken?”

“That was– Okay, but what happened to the chicken was really weird–”

“It was not the first time, or the only time, that they abandoned you in favor of crafting their weapons and traps.”

Danny shook his head.  “They love us.  They love me.”

“Sometimes, that is not enough.”

“Sometimes it is.  Of course it is. They love me. They love me enough to–” Danny swallowed, fighting down grief and horror. “I’m not leaving them.  Or Jazz.”

Swallowing hadn’t helped. It had only shoved the churning knot of emotion down into his chest where it could reach awful vines around his heart and squeeze.

His hands were shaking.

God, what would Jazz do if he randomly disappeared?  They annoyed the heck out of each other, and Jazz definitely held some of the things she did for him over his head for guilt trips, but he didn’t doubt she loved him. He didn’t doubt she would be frantic if he vanished.

He chirred again, mournfully, and only looked up again at Clockwork’s light touch.

“If love is enough,” said Clockwork, softly, ”then shouldn’t it be enough that I love you?”

“I–I don’t know,” said Danny.

Because the thing was, he didn’t doubt that Clockwork loved him. Nor that Clockwork would nurture and protect him, as he already had. It was easy, terribly easy, to imagine snuggling under Clockwork’s wings or into his ruff and trusting that he would be safe.

Danny pinched his eyes shut. “I’m going back.”

“As you are?  Knowing how they would treat those they consider monsters?”

“Yes.  They’re my parents.  They love me.”

“Through this forest, and all of its dangers?”

“Yes.”

“Through all the hazards of that human city?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing I can do will dissuade you?”

“No.”  Although, Danny reflected, Clockwork could certainly stop him physically.  All he would have to do was hold him.  But Danny would fight him.  He’d fight, and he’d never stop fighting, and trying to get back home, no matter what.  No matter how much Clockwork seemed to care for him, or how gentle and kind he was.  

Clockwork sighed.  “Then I have no choice.  I will let you return.”

“You– You will?” asked Danny, suspiciously.  It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Yes.  But I would not have you killed out of hand, my child, as would certainly happen if you were to return as you are now.  First, let me show you how to change.”

“I don’t want to change anymore,” said Danny.  “I don’t.  I don’t.” The fear was a beating heart inside of him, the idea of more change, unknown and untraveled. 

“Perhaps I should say, change back.”

“I can be human again?” A needle of hope lanced through his chest. But would he ever see Clockwork again? 

“Not precisely,” said Clockwork, before Danny could dwell.  “No more than you are now.  But it was the doorway that changed you, and doorways are of the between rather than here or there.  Thus, you are of both sides of the door, not just one.  You are still half human.”

Danny sat down.  “I am?” he asked, voice wavering.  He wasn’t going to cry.  Not now.

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “You are half human… and half faerie.  Half of their house, and half of mine, tied by blood, if not birth.”

Danny remembered.  He remembered drinking Clockwork’s blood (again, what had he been thinking?) and how good it had tasted.  

He hoped that wasn’t going to be, like, a recurring thing.  

“So, what do I do?” he asked.  

“First,” said Clockwork, “you ought to take off your clothing, so it doesn’t tear.”

“So it doesn’t…?”  Danny looked down at himself.  Maybe he should have realized earlier, but he wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d put on yesterday.  Which made sense.  At his current size, they would have been far too big.  Instead, he was wearing simple white layered robes that had openings in the back for his wings and tail.  

“I will have to get you something enchanted to change sizes, or to come when you transform, should you choose to remain and change often,” continued Clockwork.  “But I was able to make these on short notice, and they were suitable for the night.”

“You made these?” asked Danny, oddly touched.  He was supposed to be mad at Clockwork.  He was supposed to be afraid of him.  But both of those feelings just ran out of his hands like water out of a fist.  

“I did,” said Clockwork.  

“What happened to my clothes?”

Clockwork shifted one of his wings, showing what was beneath it.  Silver buckles and pocket watches shone brightly against dark silk and leather.  Other things, like bottles, herbs, and what looked like a small spyglass hung from belts or were secreted in pockets.  Danny’s ratty jeans and t-shirt stood out like a sore thumb.  

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Okay.  Um.”  His hands curled around the edge of the tunic-like top portion of the robes.  “Don’t look.”

Clockwork closed his eyes. 

“Now what?” asked Danny, who very much was not enjoying being naked in the open like this.  

“We are creatures of the night sky,” said Clockwork, eyes still shut.  “We are of the Stars and the Moon.”

“The moon is up during the day, too.  It’s up right now.”

“So it is,” agreed Clockwork.  “But so is the Sun that drowns out the Stars.”

“The sun is also a star.”

“So it is.  But it is not like other Stars.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It is not like other stars to us, or to humans.  It is the light by which so many see.  It is what divides day from night.  It is, you see, what has clipped your wings.” Danny shifted slightly, the missing weight of his wings both foreign and familiar. 

(There was so much to unpack.  He hadn’t any time.)

“Why is it different?”

“Its proximity, perhaps. We can discuss it at a later time, if you wish. I would enjoy such a conversation.”

Danny hadn’t really thought about there being a ‘later’ with Clockwork, but…  The thought of never seeing Clockwork again made his heart squeeze painfully, so he shoved it away.  

“In any case,” continued Clockwork, “for those like yourself to change, you reach for one or the other.  For the day or the night.  The light or the dark.  The Moon or the Sun.  However you would like to think about it.  You give precedence within yourself to one or the other.”

“Is it harder when they’re close to one another in the sky, like now?” Danny asked.

Clockwork smiled, though he kept his eyes shut. “As I do not transform that way, I do not know myself. My other children may have more comparable experiences, and we all are more comfortable under the phase we were born under.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be running into your children any time soon,” said Danny.  Seeing them would, after all, mean that Clockwork had succeeded in kidnapping Danny, too.  Even if it meant that he’d see Clockwork again…

“Even so.  You will be able to see for yourself before long.  Reach out, now.  Can you feel them?”

Clockwork had a lot of confidence in Danny being able to figure this out quickly, huh.  

(Despite still being mad at Clockwork - he was mad, he was - Danny didn’t want to disappoint him.)

Reach out… to something inside himself.  Which was also outside himself?  He wasn’t entirely clear on how literal the connection to the moon and sun was.  But…  Right.  Okay.  He could do this.  He didn’t want to be a little gremlin moth thing that Clockwork - or, heck, an average bird - could carry off at a moment’s notice.  

He closed his eyes.  

Day and night.  Light and Dark.  Moon and sun.  This was the kind of Yin and Yang stuff Sam sometimes got into.  Balance and changing balance.  

If he was reaching for the sun - for the Sun, the idea of the Sun - he should reach for heat, shouldn’t he?  Heat and life and truth.  

He could feel it, on his skin, warming him, cutting through the coolness of the morning.  He imagined that warmth sinking through him, filling him up.  

But there was warmth inside him, too.  It built in his chest and left his lungs with every breath. It churned in his heart and coursed through his veins like the blood that helped to carry it.  It was easy to take that, and imagine light to accompany it, centered at his heart.  To imagine it reaching out as the sunlight reached in.  He imagined it growing, brightening, pushing out against the inside of his skin, chasing away the dark, chasing away the moonlight and starlight and Aurora.  Gold, chasing out black and silver.

Except… not entirely.

The sun was also a star, and all moonlight had once been sunlight.  They mixed at the edges, blending comfortably, linked inexorably.  

(There was magic he would be able to touch through this link that few others could.  He understood this instinctively - but he was not yet ready for it, and the feeling was pushed away, put aside for a later, more appropriate day.)

This was the Sun, a tiny spark of it held within himself.  

(There was the Moon, dark but no less itself, no less present and pulling for its invisibility during the day.)

And… the balance shifted.  

He wouldn’t be able to explain what it felt like, to fall back into his skin.  Not now.  Not today.

Maybe not even if he lived a hundred years.

(Maybe he would, something whispered in his ear. Who knew how long moth-things lived?)

But he found himself at his proper human teenager size, cradled in Clockwork’s arms, no fluff or tail in sight.  

Still naked, though.  

He snatched his clothes from Clockwork, and, blushing furiously, ran behind a tree to change.  

It was strange, walking next to Clockwork.  The… Danny wasn’t actually sure what Clockwork was.  Mothman?  Moth monster?  Anyway, Clockwork was still way taller than him, and the way his ruff and wings made him seem bulkier made Danny feel a little bit better about initially mistaking him for a bear.  

The walk itself was still weird and awkward.  Danny kept drifting closer to Clockwork, and then when Clockwork’s wings ruffled out towards him, as if to part or turn back to let him shelter under them, he flinched away, walking as far apart as the trees would allow.  

Danny wondered if one of the things Clockwork had given him to eat had been some kind of… family love potion, and if it would ever wear off.  Despite no longer having any fur, his skin still itched for Clockwork to touch him, pet him, hold him.  

Although, for that to be perfect, he’d need to change back.  Shrink back down until Clockwork could hold him securely in one hand and pet him, head to tail, with the other.  

Which– No.  No.  He was never going to turn back into a moth.  He wasn’t going to think about it.  He wasn’t ever going to have antennae, or wings, or a tail ever again.  

… Clockwork had a tail.  A long one, longer than Danny’s had been, compared to his body.  It trailed on the ground like the train of a dress, and both the left and right side of it was completely lined with moth wings, as opposed to Danny’s where there were only wings next to the little bulb at the end.  Which Clockwork also had.  It flickered with light, like a lightning-bug’s tail.

Danny wondered if his tail would do that, too, under the right circumstances.  

Not that it mattered.  Again, weird fairy door magic or whatever, he was going to be human from now on.  Yep.  

(Wow, the more he thought that, the less convincing he got.  That was sad, actually.)

They reached the edge of the forest.  Amity Park seemed to sparkle in the light.  Too bright.  Too artificial.  Unreal, after the events of the night.

“Here is where we part, for now,” said Clockwork.  “If you need me, you will be able to find me.” Could he say anything that didn’t sound ominous and weighty?

“Right,” said Danny.  He hesitated, then, impulsively, hugged Clockwork.  He shouldn’t have.  Clockwork was exactly the kind of monster his parents had always warned him about, and was an admitted serial kidnapper who had spied on his family and turned him into a moth.  

But he couldn’t imagine leaving without hugging Clockwork.  Just once.  

Clockwork hugged him back, with all four arms and what had to be a dozen wings.  It was the best hug he’d ever had - even if it was also the most terrifying.  

Then, Clockwork leaned down so that his lips were next to Danny’s ear.  He whispered to him a simple handful of words.  Most of them were familiar.  His name.  His full name, the one on his birth certificate, the one his parents and sister used when they were really upset with him.  But… one of them he hadn’t heard before.  Not once.  Not ever.  

It was still his name.  

He knew this with the same surety as he knew the rest of his name.  He also knew it hadn’t been his name before last night.  

It was his name… because it was Clockwork’s.  It was a family name, belonging to him as indelibly and as truly as the name ‘Fenton,’ one that bound him not only to Clockwork, but to the rest of Clockwork’s kin.  

It did more than that, too.  When Clockwork spoke his name, his true, full name, it was as if every molecule in his body had been magnetized and his name was a magnet.  He was held still by it, at perfect attention.  Whatever Clockwork wanted to say, whatever he wanted to do, Danny had no choice but compliance.  

Not that, in the moment, he wanted another choice.  

“Follow your conscience, my dear, sweet child,” said Clockwork.  “I want that for you, always.  But when you do, please…  Have a care for yourself, too.  Do not needlessly throw yourself into deadly danger.”

Danny, pinned to Clockwork’s chest, nodded.  

Clockwork, with palpable reluctance, released him, hands tracing along his cheeks before falling away.  “Be safe, Danny.”

Danny nodded again, and stepped backwards, out of the trees and into the sunlight.  He didn’t know why he felt so sad, all of a sudden.  He was going home.  He’d avoided being permanently kidnapped or eaten.  He was fine.  

He turned away.  

He was going home. 

Stay tuned for the sequel. :)

#danny phantom #Lost Time #The portal accident #Phantasy Phest 2023 #Clockwork has low opinions of the Fenton Parents #Body Horror #Danny gets to say Fuck #tw: blood drinking #tw: moths

[surelysilly]

i remember.... i remember, your name is--

#batpoopart #danny phantom #danny phantom art #dp art #phantasy phest 2023 #ghibli au #vlad is the witch twins because i think it'd be funny #tbh i think tucker would be better as the dragon but i got lazy lol

[dpfantasyzine]

Welcome to the second annual Phantasy Phest! I started this event to bring the spotlight to fantasy theme Danny Phantom content. And we are back for another year.

Phantasy Phest is partnering with @ectoberhaunt this year, since their theme is magic vs science!! Get your fantasy mojo started with Phantasy Phest the week before Ectober Haunt starts, leaving off the weekends so you can have a tiny break between events.

Please tag @phantasycentral and use the tag #Phantasy Phest 2023

Monday 9/25: Fantasy Eldritch Au — this is a leftover prompt from last year. We all love Eldritch Danny, but can you make our eldritch bot extra magical?

Tuesday 9/26: Dungeons and Dragons — is the gang playing DND? Or are they in a fantasy world having a dnd style campaign? Were they isekai’d into a dnd game? Crossover with the new movie? You decide!

Wednesday 9/27: Wings | Scales — you may use one or both!

Thursday 9/28: Studio Ghibli — think Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, Nausica, etc. There are so many to chose from! Make an au or a crossover that is Ghibli themed, or a fantasy story with Ghibli vibes.

Friday 9/29: The Doctors Fenton should have planned for all eventualities. 😈

Again, please tag this blog and use the hashtag #Phantasy Phest 2023. I look forward to all you do!!

#danny phantom #phantasy phest 2023 #phandom #fantasy au #magic au #fanfiction #fanart #fantasy #eldritch #studio ghilibi #dungeons and dragons

[redactedgoose]

I cannot believe that I forgot to post this yesterday. This was the day that I was most excited for!! Since, uh, this may have spiraled away and now I'm still working on it as a multichap fic. Here is the link to Ao3 where I'll be updating it in the future, if anybody is interested.

Anyway! Phantasy Phest day 5- "The Doctors Fenton should have planned for all eventualities." @phantasycentral

---

"Alright, kids!" Madeline Fenton beams at her children, fists on her hips and chest puffed out, nearly bouncing on her toes with just how excited she is. "Remember—stay back behind the line of tape and keep your goggles on at all times! If it gets too bright even with the goggles, look away! Don't just cover your eyes."

"Yes, mom," Jazz says, looking up from her book for a second before turning back to it, posture perfect as she sits at one of their workbenches.

"Danny?" Maddie asks, turning her gaze on her youngest.

"Yeah, mom. Stay back, keep my goggles on. I got it," he says. He, at least, looks more attentive. It makes her smile grow to see him interested in her's and Jack's work.

"Great! Jack, how are we doing?" She turns on her heel to call her question to her husband, back straight and smile wide.

"A-OK!" He booms out, sending her a thumbs up from where he's checking over the wiring and electronics and everything one last time before they start their first attempt to power on their magnum opus. "I'm almost done! Just need to double check the soldering on this..."

Everything's going perfectly.

Jack comes to stand next to her where she stands next to the generator. It's job is to get the spark going for the initial power before the ectoplasmic battery kicks in to handle power generation and supply, making the portal self-sustaining. A genius move, in her opinion, and a really neat piece of engineering due to Jack's prowess.

"Alright!" She glances over to double check that her children are standing back behind the line they'd taped onto the ground. Satisfied that they are, in fact, in the safe zone and do, in fact, have their goggles on, she nods. Even if Jazz wasn't really paying attention, that wasn't too much of an issue. The main show was still to come.

"Let's get that countdown going!" Jack yells out, a wide grin on his face.

Maddie nods at her husband, the movement sharp and decisive. It's time. It's time, after all these years and all that work.

She clears her throat.

"Five."

Jack picks up the plug connected to the portal.

"Four."

Maddie hovers her hand over the generator's switch.

"Three."

She clicks it on, the rocker switch flicking over to the on position.

"Two."

The generator hums to life, rattling under her hand.

"One."

Jack plugs the power cord into the generator. A spark races through the portal and—nothing.

"...what?" Maddie's jaw is slack.

How... how could it not work? After years of research? Of—of blood, sweat, and tears, missed grants, of years of widespread ridicule from the rest of the scientific community...

Jack unplugs the portal from the generator before dropping both cords and smacking himself on the forehead so loudly the sound of his glove hitting flesh rings throughout the room.

"Whoops! Forgot to turn the darn thing on!" He laughs, jogging over to the side of the portal. "Silly me!"

Maddie takes another breath, heart beating harshly in her chest.

There, sitting proudly on the wall next to the frame, sits an on and off switch. The 'off' button is depressed. Jack clicks the on button and jogs back over to Maddie.

Please... please let it work this time...

"Let's give that another go!"

Maddie nods, clearing her throat again and starting up another countdown. Her hand shakes slightly where it rests on the warm plastic of the generator. "Five... four... three... two... one..."

Jack plugs the portal into the generator again and another spark skips through the portal. Then another spark, and then, in a bright flash, everything changes.

Green floods the portal, swirling out from the center point. It audibly roars to life, sounding like a great waterfall.

Maddie watches, enraptured, as it stretches out to the anchors in the portal's frame.

And stays.

Maddie watches the portal with wide eyes for a second, two seconds, ten seconds. Time ticks on as the portal continues to swirl in its housing, not showing any signs of degradation or mishap.

"Jack!" Maddie gasps his name out, hand coming up to clasp over her mouth. Tears spring to life in her eyes as she watches the greatest creation of her life sit there and swirl away.

"We did it!" Jack roars, scooping her up in a backbreaking hug.

Her hand comes away from her mouth in that instant and she pulls herself up him, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning the hug.

"We did it!" She echoes, almost screaming it, cheeks aching from how widely she's smiling. "We did it!" She repeats, hugging her husband back and laughing into his chest, her own light with pure joy. "The portal works!"

"Oh, Mads..."

One of their children makes a faint noise of disgust behind them as Jack presses a kiss to her lips.

"After all these years," she murmurs, still grinning like a fool. "After all these years, we did it."

"We'll have to send Vladdie a letter!" Jack grins, finally setting her down. "Maybe he'll want to get the band back together," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "His chem focus would be wonderful right now!"

She hums, moving to the camera they set up to record the portal's opening. "We should. I'm not too sure what he's up to these days..."

Even if Vlad didn't want to join their research team, there was still so much to do. The portal was open, which meant so many possibilities for experiments!

---

"So, man," Tucker starts, shoving spoonfuls of meatloaf into his mouth, "I saw the news. Your parents did something, right?"

"Yeah," Danny replies, pushing his own meatloaf around his tray. "They opened a portal to the Ghost Zone. Afterlife? Whatever they called it. Got it open a couple days before school started, on the first. I'm surprised that the news only picked it up just now, though. Must've been because the city came by to check it out after they finally finished disconnecting entirely from the power grid."

"So you have a portal to hell in your basement? That's cool. Can we check it out?" Sam asks, forking a pile of lettuce out of her packed lunch.

Danny shrugs, pushing his sad mashed potatoes around his lunch tray. None of it was really appetizing, but he knows he should eat. "Maybe. Mom and Dad have been down there a lot recently, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let anyone go in."

Finally, he scoops up a combined bite of meatloaf and mashed potato and shoves it into his mouth.

Blegh.

"You should totally ask them!" Tucker says, wagging his spork at Danny. "It's your birthday, after all, D. They might feel more inclined to do things for you."

Danny hums noncommittally. He doubts he could pry them out of the basement for much more than two minutes, and there's no way that he would subject his friends to the inevitable lecture about the evilness of ghosts and the importance of telling them if they saw anything.

Like, sure, ghosts were real at this point. They had, as Sam said, a portal to hell in their basement. Danny's seen a couple little blobby things floating around, mostly near the wooded area on the east side of town. They look cute and not at all evil, though, so Danny's not really sure about any of it.

"Oh, yeah. Speaking of my birthday and people doing things for me, are we still on for Nasty Burger today after school?" Danny asks. "I wanna do something with you guys, but I'm pretty sure Jazz is planning a surprise party. She's been harping on about family time recently, since they've been working so much."

"Yeah," Sam nods. "Sorry for being busy tonight, again," she scowls. "My parents are total... downers."

The way she says it very clearly implies she'd rather be saying something else.

"It's all good," Danny says, waving his own spork. "Tuck, you too."

"Sorry, man."

Danny just shakes his head. Them going to Nasty Burger for a meal after school was enough, really. "If you want, you guys could always make it up to me by coming to see the meteor shower with me in a couple weeks. It'll be cool!"

"I'll ask my parents," Sam says, scowling again.

"Pretty sure Mom and Dad will be fine with it, so yeah, I'll come do your nerd stuff with you!"

Danny snorts. "Tuck, you're also a nerd."

"Says Mr. 'I need all the straight A's and extra credit, I'm going to be an astronaut,'" Tucker teases back. "You rank higher in nerd-dom than I do."

"Dude, you made your PDA run Doom."

Tucker sighs dramatically. "It was my test run for DOOMED. Besides, somebody got a high end pregnancy test to run Doom, I'm not that special. I will be, though, if I get it to play DOOMED. I'll get it one day, mark my words," he says, banging his fist against the table. "But you, dude, nerd about science. On the other hand, I nerd about practical things—computers."

"Your PDA doesn't have a mouse, Tuck. How are you even going to play?"

"Heresy!" Tucker gasps out. "There's always a way when you're passionate enough! My baby can do anything!"

"What'd you name your PDA this time?" Sam asks him, smirking and sounding deeply, deeply amused.

Tucker narrows his eyes at her.

"It's Delilah," Danny pipes up, hiding his shit eating grin behind another bite of the gross lunch food, this time with the sad little green beans in there as well.

"Danny!"

Sam cackles.

The rest of the day flies by quickly. Danny's had more than enough time to do his homework, even reading ahead when he gets bored on weeknights and his stupid curfew's too close to actually go out and do anything and none of his books sound interesting to read for the fifth-sixth-seventh-etc time. Today's not a P.E. day either, so he gets to walk out of the school not sweaty and gross.

Tucker's arm catches him around the neck as they walk out of school, Tucker animatedly recounting his Home Ec. period and how Josh from sophomore year lit his omelet on fire.

"Like, who even does that?" Tucker laughs. "How do you light eggs on fire? They're, like, wet. They're literally liquid when they go into the pan."

"I dunno, man. Sounds like my dad."

"Remind me to never eat at your house," Sam says, walking on his other side.

Danny snorts. "You—neither of you would want to anyway," Danny says. "You know how annoying it is to re-kill a turkey after you've already cooked and served it?"

"Danny dude, what the hell, man," Tucker deadpans. "The more you mention stuff about your house, the more I get concerned."

"What, you didn't realize that in elementary when your mom would never let you come over to my house?" Danny asks. "You didn't think it was weird that I only went over to your house and you never came over to mine?"

"Nah, man. I think I was just happy that it was my house."

"Ooh, look at his ego, already so big, so young," Danny coos mockingly, squawking in indignation seconds later as Tucker pulls his head down to attempt to noogie him. "Dude! You have to be nice to me, it's my birthday!"

The three of them get a booth at Nasty Burger.

"Happy birthday," Sam says, shoving a twenty at him as he goes for his wallet, standing there at the counter. "I can use my allowance for something good."

"Thanks, Sam," Danny grins.

She makes him keep the change, too, all six dollars and forty three cents of it. Tucker whines about having to buy his own triple patty Nasty Stacker, but Sam just flips him the bird.

"I have a present for you as well, Danny!" Tucker says as they slide into their chosen booth. "It's just, uh, not done yet."

"You're making me something?" Danny asks, curiosity rising. As much as he ribbed Tuck earlier, the dude was a genius with computers.

"Yup," Tuck nods, taking a sip from his milkshake and refusing to answer any of Danny's wheedling follow up questions. "Ooh, the mystery flavor is chocolate cherry!"

Soon enough, their number is called. Sam waves him down when he attempts to get up to get their orders, going herself.

Conversation stills for the first couple minutes as they all rip into their respective burgers and fries.

Danny's the one to get it started again after he's gone through about half of his burger. "Tuck, how's the robotics club stuff going?"

"Robotics and A/V," Tucker corrects through a mouthful of burger. He swallows before continuing, thankfully for the integrity of his shins. "Really good, actually! Falluca's talking about getting us into a state competition, probably a maze-solver. I'm teaching a couple upperclassmen how to code, actually, since most people are just in it for the hardware side of things."

Danny nods.

"All the shop kids, yeah?" Sam asks, taking a sip of her own blueberry milkshake. "They talk about the club during class. Any luck in getting the astronomy club off the ground, Danny?"

He groans, clutching his own milkshake glass. "No, none at all. We've only got like, three people and no sponsor. And don't say ask Lancer. We've tried. He's club sponsor for like seven clubs or something and has no time."

"I'm surprised that he does all that and teaches like three different subjects," Tucker says.

"Jazz says he only teaches one, but he's the school's default substitute teacher," Danny says. At their looks, he goes on to say, "One of the clubs he runs is the peer mentoring thing that she does."

"Ah."

Eventually, they work their way through their food.

Sam's phone trills, loud and harsh. She yanks it out of her backpack only to scowl at it. "The shrew's demanding I come home. Sorry, guys."

"No problem," Danny says. "See you tomorrow? Or Monday?"

"Tomorrow, hopefully," she grumbles, gathering up her tray and glass. "I'll get bubbe to help me sneak out if I need to."

"Don't get in trouble!" Tucker yells after her as she leaves.

Outside, the sun is just barely setting, the horizon turning a bright yellow-orange. The stars will be out in a little while.

Danny and Tucker finish the last of their fries and milkshakes in peaceful silence.

"Sorry, man. I gotta go before it gets dark," Tucker says after a while. His tray is clean, save for a mostly demolished squirt of ketchup. "See you... Monday, probably, depending on how the thing with Grandma goes."

"See you, dude," Danny waves him off. "It's all good."

"Night! And happy birthday, man!"

"Night!" Danny replies.

Eventually, he gets up and goes to dump his own tray off at the trash, sliding the paper and wrapper into the bin and stacking the tray on the others, his glass going with the other two.

Time to go home, then.

It's warmer than normal for this time of September, with only the slightest chill in the air. It's the twenty second, after all. Not only is it his birthday, it's the start of fall. The fall equinox, when night and day are the same length. After today, the days will get shorter and shorter until the winter solstice when the light is the shortest and the night is the longest. And then it'll start to grow again until the spring equinox, when the day and night will be balanced again and the amount of daylight will start to increase again afterwards.

It's interesting to see such an obvious sign of the earth's tilted axis, Danny thinks. When he was first learning about the earth and how it functioned in space, he was over the moon (heh) to know that his birthday fell on one of those special days.

By the time he reaches his neighborhood, the Ops center having been visible from a couple blocks away, the sun is fully below the horizon, stars blanketing the sky. He can't really see them all very well, but Amity isn't that big of a city.

The house is dark when he gets back.

His heart starts to pound in his chest. Is Jazz really throwing him a surprise party? Maybe Sam and Tuck having to take off early was a cover.

Danny slips his key in the lock, their security system chirping at him. He steps into the house and shuts the door behind him, cautiously walking forward to the light switch. As he flicks it on, his phone buzzes in his pocket. At the same time, the door to the basement is thrown open with a loud crash and Danny just about jumps out of his skin.

"Sweetie!" Mom says. "You're home!"

Danny straightens up slightly, a smile on his face. It's... not exactly jumping out of the dark and screaming happy birthday like they did that one time, but it's close enough. Right?

"Don't stay up too late," she continues. "Your dad and I got a ping on the ghost radar!" Dad bustles out from behind her, arms laden with all sorts of stuff that he's pretty sure look like weapons. "Stay inside and remember to lock the door!" She says, rushing after Dad straight out the door without a glance back or another word to him.

Danny's left there, standing in the entryway, key still in hand and his heart in his stomach.

That's the first time he's seen them all week and...

They didn't even say happy birthday.

Numbly, he takes his phone out of his pocket. One new message from Jazz.

[Hey Danny. Something came up; I have to go do something for one of the kids I'm peer mentoring, a middle schooler. I... might be able to tell you about it later? It's kind of really bad.]

[Sorry, little brother. Don't wait up for me. I'll make it up to you later.]

[Good night! <3]

That's... gosh, that's just so Jazz. Danny blinks hard and sniffles, laughing a little.

It's understandable as well. Jazz wouldn't just not help whatever middle schooler it was. Just like he understood that Sam's parents were overbearing, and Tucker had to go visit his grandma with his parents.

[no prob, jazz]

[i think im just going to go to bed]

[night]

He sniffles again, phone loosely clutched in his hand as he trudges up the stairs. It doesn't ding again. Jazz must be really busy.

Danny tosses his backpack into the corner, the overburdened thing hitting the carpet with a dull thud. His phone goes on his bedside table next before tosses himself this time, straight down onto his bed.

He presses his face against his pillows.

Really, he shouldn't have expected anything different. Not from his friends or Jazz, god no! Sam's parents are notorious douches. The few times that he's met them, they've been cold to him every time; plus, they refuse to let him and Tucker come over to their house to hang out. Tucker's grandma is really old and not in the best health, so much so that she's up at Amity General. Jazz is a bleeding heart at the best of times and it's some kid that's got a problem, so of course she's going to go help them.

His parents, though...

You'd think that physically pushing a little human being out of you would make you remember the date that it happened on. Dad's usually the more forgetful one. Mom looking him in the face, talking to him, and then blowing him off... that hurt.

It was nice to see them so excited the other day, opening the portal. It was their end goal for so long... well. Danny forgot that there was a goal after it, he guesses. The ghosts.

They actually had something new to work towards. And it's not like he's a little kid anymore. He can look after himself! It's...

Mom would at least attempt to make a cake, usually. Dad would be the one to present him with his gift, almost more excited than Danny himself sometimes. Jazz would be taking pictures, the shutter going off throughout them all singing happy birthday and Danny blowing out the candles.

Even if it was usually just the four of them after Danny's disastrous fifth birthday party, they usually had one. Heck, if they didn't because of some accident or mishap or whatever (like when they all had to go down to Spitoon because Aunt Alicia broke her leg and her neighbor was on a trip, leaving her to take care of herself) they would at least still say happy birthday to him.

He grits his teeth, releasing a shuddering sigh.

Danny doesn't want to be mad or sad on his fifteenth birthday.

"Screw it," he mutters, flipping around and pushing himself up. He'll have a good time on his own. It's his birthday, he can do whatever he wants to.

Just in case Jazz comes back before he does, he stuffs his bag and half of the contents of his dirty clothes hamper underneath his blanket, wrapping a black shirt around more clothing to be a stand in for his head. The only thing that he takes with him when he slips out of the house is a flashlight, phone left on his nightstand.

The night air is nice and cool, brushing over his bare arms and cheeks.

Danny meanders to the east, heading towards the woods. His hands are tucked into his pockets, fingers of his right hand toying with the butt of the flashlight. There's a clearing there where he's gone to stargaze before, so it's not like he's just going to go get lost in the woods. He has some sense.

It's far enough out that the lights from the town fade a lot, but not far enough away that it would take him forever and a half to get there and back. It might be Friday, but he'd still like to get to sleep sometime before midnight, thanks.

The temperature drops the deeper he goes into the woods. Maybe he should've brought a jacket.

He just had to get out of his house. His empty house.

A branch snaps under his foot as he walks deeper, intent on the clearing—or any clearing at this point, really. He keeps half an eye on the sky, trying to figure out just how deep he should go to get the best view.

Danny had only ever gone to the clearing with his mom before, after all. She was the one who led the way.

He sighs rather forcefully.

The entire point of doing this was to get away from his thoughts of his parents, not make more of them. All he should be doing is walking to the clearing—a clearing—and watching the stars as his birthday gift to himself. Maybe he'll do a little recreational planning for the yet-to-be made astronomy club. There's got to be more than two other people at Casper High that like astronomy. Maybe tempting people with watch parties would be the way?

He perks up as he spots a light spot up ahead. A clearing!

Danny speeds up, but still takes care not to trip over anything. Breaking his leg out in the woods with no cellphone would really put a cherry on top of this already crummy day.

As he steps into the clearing, he notices a little trail of mushrooms a few steps ahead. It seems to circle much of the empty space, sealing the area in a ring. He steps closer and crouches down, studying them.

His first thought is that Sam would absolutely love them.

In the pale light of the moon, the mushrooms are almost violently purple. With the way that the tops of them—the caps, he's pretty sure they're called—are speckled with tiny white dots, it almost looks like it's glowing. They aren't though.

He almost touches one before one of Sam's screeds on, quote, 'idiot wannabe foragers getting themselves killed by being idiots' rings out in his head. If he couldn't tell what it was, touching it was a bad idea. He's... not sure they're not poisonous, but sitting in the clearing should be fine, right? It's not like mushrooms released any sort of toxic gas or whatever.

Danny straightens back up and steps into the ring, intent on the mossy log nearer to the center of the clearing. It'd be nice to sit and lean against it while looking up at the stars.

The grass is soft and lush under his hands as he lowers himself down, the bark and moss on the log scratching lightly against his back through his t-shirt. He tilts his head back with a sigh, thunking lightly against the log.

There's not much of a moon in the sky tonight, though that'll change soon. It's waxing, just almost a crescent currently. If he remembers right, the next full moon will be in... just a little over a week? It makes seeing the stars even easier.

As he traces the constellations he knows like the back of his hand with his eyes, though, his mind wanders.

Going off to be on his own and look at the stars won't do much for the uncomfortable, squirming feeling that sits at the base of his rib cage. At most, it'll just be another band-aid over a bullet wound, as it were.

He huffs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Danny loves his parents. He knows, he knows, his parents love him as well. His parents just... also really love their work, too. And it hasn't even been long since they finished their biggest and best invention ever. It's the portal, the one that they've been working on for years and years now. He can't really blame them, can he? They've put so much of their life, of their time and effort, into building it. And now that it's done, they can continue their lives' work.

The squirming at the base of his rib cage twists, heat building behind his eyes.

He just... he just wishes that their lives' work didn't mean ignoring him and Jazz.

Danny tilts his head back again, tears pooling in his eyes. His head rests against the bark, staring sightlessly up at the stars.

God, he wishes he could be up there with them. He wishes he could just... get away from here, go somewhere else. If he could snap his fingers and fill in the rest of high school and college and be standing on NASA's front steps, about to go up there, he would.

Finally, the tears fall from his eyes, tracking down his cheeks. They catch the chill in the air and cool against his skin quickly, even as more keeps coming.

He cries. He's not exactly sure when he stops, but eventually no more run down his cheeks and his sight is clear once again.

Danny stares up at the North Star. Polaris. Part of the constellation Ursa Minor. The way the little bear's tail is shaped, connecting up to the body, is reminiscent of a small ladle, the Little Dipper to the Ursa Major's Big Dipper. Polaris isn't actually just one star—it's three stars all bundled together in the same star system.

He racks his brain.

Polaris Aa, Polaris B, and Polaris Ab, or P. Right. Polaris Aa was a... yellow supergiant. The other two were main sequence stars, or dwarf stars. Polaris Aa is a cepheid, making it an important standard candle.

He yawns, the resulting tears making him squeeze his eyes shut for a second.

Standard candles... used the brightness of stars to gauge distances. Since Polaris is so close to the Earth, it's... studied a lot.

His eyes start to drift closed as he continues to mentally rattle off the facts he knows about Polaris, just as he used to instead of counting sheep when he was younger.

It takes no time at all before he's out like a light, sitting right there against the mossy log in the forest.

---

The Doctors Fenton pierced a hole through the veil to the Infinite Realms.

However... the thing about the Veil, and veils in general, is that they are not, by definition, flat. They are not rigid objects such that can be punctured easily. Veils and the Veil... twist. Layer.

True enough, on the other side of the Veil lies the land of the dead, the underworld, the Infinite Realms—but in the folds in between lies the Others. The In Between layers.

The Doctors Fenton should have taken care to plan for every eventuality of things Other than ghosts coming to their little town.

That night, in the forest outside of Amity Park, the Doctors' son Daniel sleeps in a clearing in the woods ringed by mushrooms.

Faerie rings, faerie circles... humans know them and are wary of them from their various mythologies and legends. By and large, a circle of mushrooms in the woods or the plains means nothing at all. It is simply a biological quirk of the formation and life cycle of mycelium.

But in areas where the Veil is thin, that changes.

And in Amity Park? The site of the largest, most stable, most permanent hole in the Veil in human history?

Danny goes missing that day.

In one moment, he sleeps. In the next, there is nothing in the clearing beside the flashlight that slipped from insensate fingers.

It's hardly noticeable that the boy went missing—he's in his bed in the morning, after all. Staying out for a single night can hardly be called missing, especially when his parents were none the wiser to his location being anywhere else than his bed.

Sure, there may be twigs and leaves in his hair and his eyes are slightly too sharp, too keen, too bright, his teeth much the same and his ears coming to a point, but no one notices.

Except his friends. His friends know.

They get the story the next day, squirreled away in the town park, Danny's back pressed up against a tree, about how he went out into the woods and stepped into a ring of mushrooms and fell asleep sitting against a mossy log, looking wistfully up at the stars and begging, pleading with them to be taken away. How he woke up under sheets that were much too soft to be his own, in a room that looked more like the inside of a living tree than a wooden house. How the person that greeted him upon his waking wasn't human.

And—he looks to the left, to the right, and lowers his voice—how he wasn't human anymore.

#danny phantom #fantasy au #fae and creature au #danny needs a hug #place your bets now. how long will it take before whatever fae on the other side adopts our boy? #phantasy phest 2023

[scarletsaphire]

Danny doesn't understand why his parents like the tiny portal they made so much. It just sits there and doesn't do anything. He decides to study it to figure it out.

---

For Phantasy Phest Studio Ghibli. It's ponyo themed pitch pearl (platonic but idk the name for platonic asjdssg) @phantasycentral

The portal the Fenton's built was a small one, built in the interior of a paint can. It was a marvel of modern science, of course, even at its small scale, and it could be used for a slew of different tests. It just wasn't the grand spectacle Danny had expected. Danny had been hearing about this portal, about his parent's magnum opus, their redemption from the failure they had in college, for his whole seven years of life. They'd been so thrilled when they finished it, had called him and Jazz down to look at its grand unveiling. It had been cool, he supposed, but he didn't think it deserved the hype.

Still, his parents were so very happy with it, and his parents happy meant lots and lots of celebratory fudge. It also meant that they spent more and more time in the lab, which was fine. Danny was used to it. He just didn't understand why the portal was what they were excited about, when they had so many other, cooler projects they could be working on. Of course, Danny was a Fenton, and if he'd learned anything from his parents, it was that Fentons figured things out, and didn't give up.

Which led to now, with Danny sitting on the lab floor, unsupervised, his little notebook in hand, staring at the portal. He'd been down there for about ten minutes, and was already getting bored. Who could blame him? It wasn't like the portal was doing anything. It's swirling green glow had kept Danny entertained for a few minutes, but after he realized it was pretty much identical to the star projector he had in his bedroom, it stopped holding his attention.

Danny stood up from the metal floor; it was starting to dig into his legs, and it was too cold anyway. He made his way to the table the portal was sitting on, and squinted his eyes, studying it. Despite his look, nothing interesting happened. Slowly, Danny raised his pencil so that it hovered just above the top of the portal. He gently lowered it, letting it hit the metal with a soft clang, and yanked his hand back quickly. Nothing happened.

This was getting ridiculous. Most things in the lab did at least something when he poked it; it's why there were so many scorch marks on the walls. The portal didn't do anything. With a huff, Danny raised the pencil back to the roof of the portal and banged on it a little harder. Still nothing.

"Why won't you do anything?" he whined. He hit his pencil against the roof of the portal repeatedly, creating a steady rhythm. Still, nothing.

Danny took his pencil back with a sigh. He'd tried everything he could think of, but it still didn't do anything besides look kinda cool. He turned around to head back upstairs; he wasn't supposed to be down here by himself, and his parents would be home from Jazz's orchestra concert soon. He'd barely taken three steps when he heard it. A thumping sound, in the same pattern as his pencil tapping had been, coming from the portal. Danny whirled around and rushed back to the table the portal was on, staring at it. The only movement was the twisting, swirling green.

But Danny knew what he heard. Much more carefully this time, he lifted his pencil to the top of the portal and hit it three times. He held his breath. After only a second, the same thumping sound answered with three, nearly identical beats. "Woah..." Danny said, staring into the green. If he looked closely, he thought he could almost make out some kind of shadow, moving around in the light, just barely visible. It looked like it was going to the top of the portal. Just as it would have hit the roof, Danny heard another soft thump.

His eyes widened, and he leaned in closer to get a better look. He wasn't just seeing things - there was something in there, floating around. It's movement were almost frantic, moving around wildly. Was it lost? How had it ended up in here? What if it was hurt? Danny took a deep breath. He needed to help whatever it was, but he had to be smart about it. If he did something wrong, he might end up stuck in the portal too, and that wouldn't help anything.

Danny hurried over to the wall where his jumpsuit hung, pulling it on quickly. It was a bit too tight; he'd had another growth spurt recently, and they needed to make a new one, but this was an emergency. He could deal with a too small suit for now. He rushed back to the portal, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the whatever it was still bouncing around inside. Danny braced himself, squaring his shoulders against whatever it was he was feeling, before shoving his hand in the portal.

It was cold and tingly, but it didn't hurt. Danny let his shoulders drop, reaching his gloved hand further into the portal, trying to reach the bouncing blob. It was difficult to see where, exactly, in the portal the thing was when all Danny could really see was light and shadow, but it didn't stop him. After a few seconds he'd already ended up reaching his arm in up to his elbow, and he still hadn't felt anything besides the cold. Finally, his fingers brushed against something...more solid than the rest of the portal had been. Danny wouldn't quite define it as solid. It felt almost like that goop he had made with his mom when he was younger out of corn starch; sticky and squishy and soft, but firm when he pressed to hard.

Danny felt around the goop, finding its edges with his hand. That was easier said than done, especially since it had started to wiggle as soon as Danny had touched it the first time. He got a good grip on it, firm enough to not lose it, but gentle enough to not hurt it, and started to gently pull it out. In the portal, he could see that the blob had stopped moving, it's form almost entirely eclipsed by the shape of Danny's own hand. 

Slowly, Danny drew his hand out of the portal. A green residue was left on his arm, the same soft glowing green as the portal itself. Danny waited, barely breathing as he got closer and closer to pulling the blob out of the portal. He withdrew his wrist, and got his first sight of the creature.

Blob was a much better descriptor than expected; it didn't have legs or arms, most of it's body one connected piece that tapered out to a tail. It did have something Danny was tempted to call a face; at the very least, he could make out where eyes and a nose would be, even if they weren't clearly defined. It remained perfectly motionless in his hand.

Danny drew his thumb across where its stomach would be. It didn't react. He lifted it closer to his face. "Please, please be ok," he whispered. 

"Danny, sweetie? Are you down here?" It was his mom's voice coming from the top of the stairs to the lab. Danny jumped, fumbling the blob into a pile of green goop that had dripped off of Danny's sleeve and onto the tabletop. The second that it left Danny's hand, the creature started flailing. 

"Fudge," Danny said, frantically blocking the creature in with his arms, trying to make sure that it did not fall off of the table. 

"Danny, I can hear you down here," Maddie said. He could hear her footsteps as she made her way down the stairs and into the lab. "You know you shouldn't be down here without supervision, it can be dangerous!" She appeared at the bottom of the staircase and froze.

"Um," Danny said. "I'm sorry?"

Maddie was at his side in a second. "Oh my god, Danny! What did you do, are you ok?" She reached out to touch his arm, which was still dripping the bright green goop, but she froze as soon as she saw what Danny was holding. "Did you find this?"

Danny nodded sheepishly. "I was trying to figure out why you liked the portal so much, and I started tapping on it, and this guy started tapping back, but I think he got lost which is weird cause its just a paint can but I couldn't just leave him in there, so I tried to save him. I think he might be hurt or scared though."

Maddie's face slowly went from one of shock to undeterred glee. "You just hold that thing right there, I'll be right back!" She said. She hurried to the stairs, calling out for Jack, before running to the other side of the lab. She opened one of the refrigerated cupboards that they held their samples in and drew out a number of vials, each holding the same green goo, and dumped them into a bucket. 

She ran back over, slightly slower this time as to avoid spilling any. "Ok, go ahead and grab a hold of it carefully, and put it in here."

Danny did so, guiding the creature into his hand and lifting him into the bucket. As soon as it was submerged, it calmed down, swimming around in the bucket. "Oh, it's like a fish!" Danny said, smiling down at it. 

"Fascinating..." Maddie said. "Jack, honey, please hurry! This is important!" 

"Sorry, Mads! Having a bit of a situation up here!" Jack called from the main floor. 

"Oh, for the love of-" Maddie sighed. "Keep an eye on it while I go help your father, ok sweetie? And be careful, we don't know what it can do." At Danny's nod, she made her way out of the lab.

The creature stopped its swimming to surface, its eyes staring directly at Danny. "Hello," he said, lowering his head to look at it closer over the lip of the bucket. 

Danny didn't expect it to answer, but it did, letting out a series of blurbles that sent ripples through the goop. "Oh, you can talk! Kind of, anyway." It blurbled again. "Can you understand what I'm saying, or do you just like the noise?" More blurbles. 

"Well, that's not very helpful," Danny said with a laugh. "Do you know how to nod? If the answer is yes, move your head like this." Danny nodded in demonstration. "Can you do that?" The creature didn't have the neck required for nodding, but it moved up and down in the goo in something that was close enough to a nod. "You do understand me! My name's Danny, do you have a name?"

The little creature didn't nod, letting out a series of blurbles yet again. "Is that your name?" Danny asked. "Cause if it is, I don't think I'll be able to say it." More blurbles. "Oh, duh!" Danny said, slapping his non-gooped hand against his head. "I taught you how to say yes, but I didn't teach you how to say no! You can shake your head like this for no." Danny demonstrated again.

This time, it swum back and forth in an approximation of shaking its head. "Just like that!" Danny said excitedly. "So, do you have a name?" It swum back and forth. "Do you want a name? I can give you one, if you'd like." It swum up and down. 

"Hm..." Danny thought for a moment. "I'm gonna call you Phantom," he said. "It's another name for ghosts, which is what the portal is supposed to find. Do you like it?" It swum up and down yet again, this time adding a little flip out of the goo that Danny decided to interpret as excitement. "I'm glad!"

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #child Danny #pitch pearl #but its platonic cause . children. #phantasy phest 2023

[surelysilly]

pov: you are not immune to the Ghibli propaganda

09/28: studio ghibli for @phantasycentral !

bonus:

Sam, to Tucker: why is your fire green Tucker, red-green color blind: why is my fire, what Danny: >:)

#batpoopart #phantasy phest 2023 #danny phantom art #danny phantom au #ghibli au #howl's moving castle #dp au #dont ask me how any of this au works it just does #danny is both calcifer and turnip head sam is sofie and tucker is howl! :) #i like to think Dani is markel and Vlad is the witch of the wastes more so after the power of the star instead of tucker's heart lol

[dpfantasyzine]

Phantasy Phest Interest Form

Sorry, I'm posting this late. If you follow my personal blog at all, you know my 2023 has been insane.

Please fill out the interest form. We are tying it in with @ectoberhaunt this year, so I will be using your responses and the theme/prompts for EH, to incorporate Ph2 with EH as well as I can.

It will be the last week of September, probably just Monday-Friday of that week, so it can parallel the EH schedule.

Form is in the title, but here it is again.

Thank you for helping me plan this event!

#danny phantom #fantasy au #phantasy phest 2023 #please help reblog for visibility

[redactedgoose]

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."

#danny phantom #phantasy phest 2023 #fantasy eldritch au #dp

[scarletsaphire]

Paulina has been feeling rather under the weather since after the school dance, but its nothing that some rest, relaxation, and an expensive trip to the chiropractor can't fix. Right?

---

For Phantasy Phest day 3 Wings/Scales @phantasycentral

The first few days after the school dance, Paulina was... dazed. That was the best way to put it. It felt like she was watching herself go through the motions of the day. It wasn't like possession; her body still do what she wanted it to do, still acted and spoke like she did. If she had been fully in control of herself, she probably wouldn't have done much different. Maybe a few extra comments about Manson's absolutely hideous "new" necklace (it already looked rusty and bent weird, so there was no way in hell it was actually new) but overall, nothing would really change.

Paulina came back to herself sometime on the third day after the dance. It would have been disorienting, to go from so distant and weird back to normal suddenly, but with the ache in her back, it was even worse. It started relatively minor; somewhere just below the normal aches and pains of period cramps, just between her shoulders. With just a few seconds of batting her eyelashes, her daddy had booked a private appointment with a chiropractor, and had called the school to let them know she was sick. 

She could have gotten through the school day just fine, but she wasn't one to look a free day off school in the mouth, or whatever that saying was. It would have been a nice day; the chiropractor appointment wasn't until later in the day, so she was planning on going back to sleep until noon, redoing her nail polish, and doing a nice extensive skin care routine. She'd barely been able to sleep an extra thirty minutes before the pain between her shoulders woke her back up. By that point, the pain had progressed from the dull, annoying ache to a near stabbing pain. Much more annoying, much more painful, but still manageable. Paulina busted out the heating pad and herbal tea, and settled in for an uncomfortable day.

By the time her chiropractor appointment rolled around, Paulina was only keeping tears of pain from falling through sheer power of will and determination to not ruin her mascara. She couldn't get herself to sit up straight on the car ride there, the bumping of the car seat against her burning shoulder blades so painful she'd nearly bit clean through her tongue. The chauffer had shot her a few worried glances through the back mirror, but one angry glare reminded him of his place. 

Paulina left the chiropractor's wishing she had never come. The man's first, gentle touch had her yelping in pain and him humming in confusion and consideration. "You have some nasty knots in your back," he had said, probing at the sorest spot even as Paulina flinched at the contact. "I normally only see this type of thing in older people with very stressful jobs. Has anything happened lately that might have caused this? Any stress at school?"

"I didn't realize my father was paying you to ask me about my day," Paulina grumbled. "Are you going to fix my back or not?"

"Of course," he'd said. "I just thought that-"

"You aren't getting paid to think," she snapped. "Just make it stop hurting!"

He hadn't spoken the rest of the appointment, instead trying to massage Paulina's back in a way that didn't make her vision cloud with pain. He failed. Paulina ended up walking back to the car hunched over and her hair covering her face. She'd ran out of willpower somewhere during the appointment, and her mascara had run, just like she knew it would.

As soon as she got back home, Paulina headed straight to her room. She placed the heating pad, the only thing that had offered any kind of relief all day, on her back, and laid face down into her mattress. It helped, at least a little bit.

Paulina passed the weekend in almost the same position, only moving to eat, use the bathroom, or turn up the heat on the heating pad. She'd passed the temperature she normally had it at the first night, and had maxed it early on Sunday morning. Despite the fact that it was burning hot, the pain was far much worse when it was lower.

Paulina was frankly exhausted by the time Monday rolled back around, but she couldn't miss school today. Not only would it be bad for her image if people thought she could get like, properly sick, and besides all that, there was cheer practice that evening. She couldn't just miss that if she wanted to be a flyer this year. Her back still hurt like hell by the time she was getting in the car to go to school, but it was manageable. Frankly, it was nothing compared to what it had been over the weekend. So Paulina grit her teeth, applied some pink sparkly lip gloss, and made her way into Casper High with a beaming smile on her face.

She'd managed to make it to third period, flying on the concerned wishes of her friends and followers, all saying that they were so happy she was back and cursing whatever illness befell her on Friday. She might've been able to make it longer, if the school hadn't shook with what the student body was beginning to recognize as the tell tale signs of a ghost attack. In their mad rush to evacuate the school, someone had bumped Paulina right in the shoulder blades, right between where the pain was most severe, and she'd collapsed to her knees. 

"Polly? Come on Polly we need to go!" Star had called the moment she saw Paulina fall, but she was rushed away in the stampeding crowd. Paulina couldn't straighten, couldn't even move. All she could do was curl further in on herself and squeeze her eyes against the searing hot pain throbbing through her back. Every beat of footsteps sent another pulse of pain through her. She grabbed at her hair, pulling on it, trying to shift her focus to a smaller pain. All her tugging did is end up with handfuls of her hair in her fists, and a stinging sensation to accompany the rest of her pain.

Paulina didn't notice when the crowd dispersed; the pulses of pain continued, only getting worse and worse in severity. She also didn't notice the person saying her name until she felt the hand on her shoulder, causing her to shudder in pain. "Paulina!" A voice accompanied the hand. Paulina cracked her eye open, but everything was blurry. She could vaguely make out black and purple, but it wasn't clear. "Paulina now is not the time to be a drama queen. You need to move."

The hand wrapped around Paulina's arm and tugged on her, pulling her out of the fetal position. Whoever it was must have torn her shirt; a loud ripping noise echoed through the hallway. Paulina would have been angry, if the cool air hitting or skin wasn't so refreshing. It didn't get rid of the pain entirely, but it did get rid of at least some of it. "Oh shit. Ok. Didn't expect that," the voice said. "Ok, um. Cool, I can handle this. I'm just gonna..." The hand left her arm, before wrapping around her waist. "One, two, and lift!" 

With a soft grunt, Paulina was lifted off of the ground. It definitely wasn't the cleanest job; Paulina could hear her (Paulina's head was clear enough to tell that whoever it was was a girl. Maybe Star came back for her?) labored breathing, and Paulina's...something was dragging along the floor. It wasn't her feet; she'd wrapped those around this person's waist not long after being lifted. It wouldn't make sense for it to be her hands, with how she was being carried. It was an odd feeling; she couldn't remember ever experiencing anything like this. It was nice, whatever it was, and every brush against the cold linoleum sent pleasant chills into her spine that helped lessen the pain more and more.

Paulina was dumped on the floor, and the whatever it was that had been dragging was pinched beneath her. She yelped, and shifted the appendage out from under her. 

"Ok, so those are definitely yours and not just like. Glued to you or whatever. Good to know." Now that the pain in her back was fading, Paulina's brain was able to work at least a little bit more. Whoever this was definitely wasn't Star; Star could lift her, of course, she needed to for cheer, but Star didn't talk like this person. "Can you hear me, or have the clouds you're always walking in blocking your ears?"

Paulina sent a quiet prayer that she had heard that wrong. Anyone but her. Anyone but her. Anyone but... Paulina opened her eyes. Sam was crouched next to her, the standard look of disdain mixed with something that Paulina might have thought was concern, if it wasn't Sam. Paulina closed her eyes, groaned, and leaned her head against the wall.

"I feel like I should be mad about that," Sam said. "But if the roles were reversed, I'd probably do the same thing."

"Just go away, goth freak," Paulina said.

"Nope. Not gonna happen," Sam said. "Not with whatever all this is going on."

"Why, you trying to get blackmail or something Manson?" Paulina sneered. "Newsflash, but no one is going to believe you over me."

"I think you're the one who needs a newsflash."

"And what does Miss Small, Dark, and Gloomy have to tell the gossip queen of Casper High?" 

"You have wings." Sam delivered the line without a hint of a joke in her voice, which would have been concerning, if Sam wasn't always so monotone all the time.

"Oh ha ha," Paulina replied, opening her eyes just to glare at Sam. "You really think I'm going to believe a lie as obvious as that one? Puh-lease."

Sam didn't answer. Instead she grabbed next to Paulina, hand brushing against sensitive not quiet skin, and pulling the appendage up into Paulina's line of sight. It was, in fact a wing; a thin membrane stretched across a boney frame. It was a soft, warm pink color, almost a peach; and it shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the room. It looked fake. Paulina wanted to believe it was fake. But she could feel Sam's hand against it, could feel how it stretched from how Sam was pulling it. 

Paulina opened her mouth, trying to figure out some kind of retort, or at least some kind of reply, but coming up short. "I guess Miss Small Dark and Gloomy can tell you something you don't know." Paulina tore her eyes from her wing to look Sam in the eye. She was smirking.

"Of course you're enjoying this," Paulina said. She went to grab the wing away, but before her hand could reach it, it had pulled itself away, responding to her thought. "My life is over!" She couldn't keep the hysterics out of her voice. Why should she? She was a freak now. Even more of a freak than Manson and her weirdo friends. Paulina thought she could have a little hysterics. As a treat. 

"Oh come on, its not that big of a deal. You're still alive, which is more than some of my friends can say."

Paulina burst into tears. "I don't want to be one of you weirdos!"

"Whoever said that you'd be welcome with us?" Sam asked, crossing her arms. Paulina cried harder. Sam uncrossed her arms, to hover them around Paulina. She didn't seem certain of what to do. That was fair. Paulina also didn't know what to do. 

"It's ok, I'm sure we can fix this!" Sam settled on eventually.

"Who is this we?" Paulina said. 

"You know what that's a very good question!" Sam said. "It's uh-"

Whatever she was going to say was lost under the sound of someone else's echoing voice coming from the wall. "Hope you're in here Sam, because I got hit something nasty. I think I can see the sandwich I had for lunch."

"Um, we're busy!" Sam called, but she was too late. The ghost boy had turned around the corner. 

"I thought we agreed this was my bleed out bathroom!" he said. He was proving his point; the cut across his stomach was bleeding a concerning amount, and there was a pool of bright green ectoplasm pooling under his feet.

"Where else was I supposed to take her? She grew wings, Danny! Wings!" Sam grabbed Paulina's wing to prove her point.

"Hey!" Paulina shouted. "Don't just grab me like that!" She tore the wing back out of Sam's hands.

"You do make a fair point," ghost boy said. "But can you stitch me up first, and then we can deal with the wings?" He offered Paulina a far too familiar, sheepish grin. "Sorry, but I'm starting to see stars, and not in the good way."

"Fine, sit down." Sam reached into her backpack and pulled out a (medkit?). Ghost boy sat down on the tile floors of the bathroom, leaning backwards for Sam to get easier access to his wound.

Paulina narrowed her eyes at the two, wheels turning in her head. The two were comfortable with each other, which was weird enough, but especially since it wasn't just the comfort of necessity. They had talked like friends. And hadn't the ghost boy come in looking for Sam? She even knew his name! Danny. 

The alarm bells went off, and she nearly hit herself in the head. She didn't blame herself for not seeing it earlier; she did try very hard to look at the losers as little as possible, but it was clear as day. Sure, their hair color and eye color were different, but everything else? It would be impossible to miss. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson's best friend since 4th grade, was bleeding ectoplasm on the bathroom floor.

She should say something. Paulina knew that she should. She didn't. If Fenton was the ghost boy, then this "we" Sam was talking about was the two of them, and maybe the techy nerd too. Maybe they could help her get rid of these things; she wasn't about to risk it by revealing that she knew. 

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #sam manson #paulina sanchez #phantasy phest 2023

[redactedgoose]

@phantasycentral day 3! I went with wings.

Content warning for body horror and injury (not graphic).

---

Danny buries his head in his hands.

"Frostbite, please."

"Great One..." Frostbite's voice is patient and measured, but not without caring. "I understand that this may take some time to get used to, but it is nothing but the truth. On my clan, I swear it."

Danny gulps before looking up. In the reflective surface of the ice, he sees himself. His blue eyed, black haired, human self.

The skin on his back crawls at the reminder.

"And there's no way to... to stop this from happening?" Danny asks, cursing the tremble in his voice.

"None," he confirms once more, shaking his shaggy head. "Blended entities such as yourself experience bleed, Great One. It's nearly unheard of this early, but you are a powerful demon."

After unwittingly completing his parents' portal to hell and coming away as something a little bit left of human, Danny had thought he'd seen it all. Tucker joked that Danny had his own symbiote, except it was just himself possessing himself instead of anything like Venom.

But this...

"I would advise you to not reject yourself, Great One. Doing so could cause discord within your body, resulting in injury or worse," Frostbite chides. Honestly, Danny would wholeheartedly believe that mind reading was a part of Frostbite's powerset.

"But my parents-" he cuts himself off, groaning at the spike of pain on his back. He has to wave Frostbite off when the yeti almost leaps forward, hands outstretched in concern. "Fine, I'm fine."

"Your parents..." Frostbite trails off as he sits himself back down on the stool of ice. "The hunters, yes?"

Danny nods. His parents, the hunters. The Fentons went way back as hunters of the supernatural, but it was his Mom's side of the family that drove his parents to focus on demons due to the supposed generational curse laid upon them.

(Privately, he had always wondered why they would choose to have children if there really was a curse on her bloodline. He'd never asked, and he probably never would.)

"You will always have a place here in the Far Frozen, Great One," Frostbite says. "And you do have other allies, do you not?"

He nods again, biting back a sigh. It's not nearly as comforting as Frostbite thinks it is, honestly. Like, he gets what Frostbite is saying, but... he can't just up and leave his human life!

The new muscles growing underneath the skin on his back ripple, bones scraping against the inside of his skin ringing out a dull pain.

...he may not have a choice.

"I have to get back soon," Danny says instead of answering in any way.

Frostbite nods, smile sad. "Do not forget the salve, Great One. Change your bandages every morning. If there's any excessive bleeding indicating breaching, get to a safe place."

Danny tugs the blue jar of salve into his hand. "Gotcha. Thanks again, Frostbite."

"Of course, Great One."

In just a few minutes, he's standing outside the gates of the Ice Citadel, breathing in the chilly air of Frostbite's clan's personal corner of hell.

"Ugh, this is gonna suck."

With that, he triggers his transformation.

As usual, it starts on his back, right between his shoulder blades. He contains his shout of pain—he was right, that sucked ass—as his skin ripples, flesh transmuting in a wave outwards. The unnatural blue-green crawls up his back and up his jaw, cascading down his shoulders in the next instant. His clothes sublimate, the rough texture of the protective gear that he Became in forming once more. His armor settles on his shoulders and chest as the rest of his flesh finishes transmuting, the bone structure of his legs cracking as his feet shift from normal plantigrade to digitigrade. His horns, as always, make his forehead itch.

Danny shakes his hands out as his knuckles pop, fingers growing an extra joint and nails hardening and sharpening into claws. His tail lashes behind him as the last parts of his transformation happens, pain flaring. His incisors lengthen into fangs, but his gums have long since become numb to that.

No, it's his wings that are causing him grief, figuratively and literally. They're a darker blue, almost a midnight shade, than the rest of him, the webbing mottled with glowing dots that he swears are constellations.

The pain eases in the next instant as his transformation completes, leaving him a demon once more.

It's easy enough to lift off, his wings strong enough to go from standing to flying without having to take a running leap off a cliff to get enough lift. It also helps that he has telekinesis and personal gravity manipulation as part of his powers.

With a few sharp flaps of his wings, he starts off for his parents' portal.

Despite himself, a few minutes into his flight home, he starts to grin.

Plain and simple, flying is fun.

He corkscrews around a floating island, being careful to not get too close to the purple flames coming off of it. Elemental demons didn't really have weaknesses like that, per se, but he still preferred to not get burnt.

Danny lets out a rumbling churr of happiness as he swoops, claws just barely grazing the surface of the half frozen ocean he passes, twirling out of the way of a beast leaping from the depths to try and make him his meal.

He's gotten pretty familiar with the route from the portal to the Far Frozen, and even though the Depths are kinda dangerous, he likes this path. It's almost like a giant obstacle course for him. He can't fly much in Amity Park—or, well, he can't fly much for fun. His parents and the DIW would be on him in minutes if he went for a joyride and he didn't really plan to be an experiment any time soon.

His pleased rumble turns more gravelly at the thought and he straightens his flight path out, flapping harder and shooting forward at speed.

The more time he spends in his demon form, the quicker... the quicker his wings will come in in his human form.

Ancients damn it all.

He hadn't thought much of the pain on his back when it started a couple weeks ago. He got into scraps with all the demons who came to visit the town, after all. It was probably just a bad hit or something, and he knew his supernatural healing carried over to his human form so he wasn't too concerned about it. It would go away eventually.

Then, today, when the pain had made him pass out in seventh period, he had Sam and Tucker check it out. It obviously wasn't getting better—it was getting pretty remarkably worse, actually.

Tucker had passed out almost instantly, and all he could get out of Sam was that something was moving underneath his skin. He'd been off pretty quickly after that.

"Ah," Frostbite says. It's a neutral 'ah' and not an 'ah!' of fear or an 'ah?' of puzzlement. Danny doesn't know if that's better or worse.

"Just give it to me straight, doc," Danny jokes nervously. "Do I have some kind of demon parasite or what?"

"Oh, no! No, nothing like that," Frostbite chuckles. "No, Great One, it's merely the mixing of your two separate halves. I knew you were remarkable when you put down Pariah Dark, but seeing the proof of your power like this is something else!"

And that had been that.

He almost wishes it had been a demon parasite.

How is he supposed to hide his massive eff off pair of wings from his parents? His tail had been easy enough to hide when it popped out—something about how humans used to have tails anyway, which had been a nice little factoid for his anatomy test. He'd gotten extra credit and everything—and his fangs were always retractable and whatnot.

Danny climbs, wings beating hard, to clear a ruined archway and dodge the hellish flora that reaches for him.

It's so unfair. Vlad doesn't have to deal with this!

...although it is kinda nice that he can rub it in his stupid, smarmy face the next time he sees him. Vlad's been a hybrid for longer than Danny and Danny gets to go through the blending thing first. That would certainly put a bee up his butt.

Danny flares his wings out as he comes up on the portal, the swirling black disc floating in the air as usual. He slows down most of the way and draws up his invisibility glamour over himself before slipping through.

Sticky as always.

It's easy enough to teleport up to his room from there, a quick step to the side depositing him in the shadows in his room.

He has to bite down on his arm to muffle his shout of pain as his transformation sloughs off of him, the extra matter and energy pooling around his quickly resetting feet to be reabsorbed.

Ancients, that hurt like nobody's business.

He all but collapses down on his bed, bouncing slightly on his stomach.

Right, he should contact his friends. They've undoubtedly told Jazz at this point, and if she realizes that he's home before he tells anyone, it's not going to be pretty.

blood pact under the new moon when? spoopy: guess whos back zermbie: whats the word? frosty give you the bad news already?

Danny winces.

spoopy: yeah mother hen: Danny! Text first next time! Sam and Tucker scared the heck out of me! spoopy: sorry, jazz. i got kinda freaked out spoopy: wanted to go fast zermbie: gotta go fast nightshade: tuck, shut up nightshade: danny, what's the news? spoopy: so. good news- im not dying! zermbie: *jazz hands* mother hen: Saying it like that implies that there's bad news, Danny. spoopy: i was getting there zermbie: oh no spoopy: further good news: this is natural for something like me nightshade: *someone. c'mon, danny. spoopy: okay, someONE. like me spoopy: bad news its going to be a lot harder to hide nightshade: danny zermbie: hey danny wHAT mother hen: Danny, what does that mean? spoopy: ancients, let me finish typing! nightshade: >:/

Danny takes a breath.

spoopy: so evidently its normal for a hybrid like me to. Blend spoopy: capital B b t dubs spoopy: so. more of the demon stuff is going to come thru when im hjuman spoopy: *human nightshade: oh shit zermbie: what, what am i missing? nightshade: that's where your wings come from in your demon form isn't it. where it hurt. spoopy: got it in one mother hen: So you're going to grow wings? As a human? spoopy: yeap

The group chat collectively pauses for a second as they undoubtedly absorb that fun little fact.

mother hen: So... how are we going to hide it from mom and dad? spoopy: still thinking about it spoopy: i dont. think that i can. honestly spoopy: my wings are BIG spoopy: and like i know theyre pretty blind to stuff spoopy: like i pretty much have fangs 24/7 and my tail likes to pop up in human form spoopy: and they havent seen that spoopy: but like spoopy: there's a liimit. at some point. and i would think the giagnitic wings are The Limit yknow nightshade: can you glamour it away? spoopy: good point spoopy: but unless like you find a way for them also to be like, intangible or something its not going to work spoopy: a glamour just is an illusion spoopy: doesnt cahnge the fact that my fuckoff big wings are still Right There mother hen: Language spoopy: srry jazz zermbie: frosty cant do anything to stop them coming in? you're not entirely a demon, D zermbie: you're a human too zermbie: that's gotta count for something at least spoopy: nah. frostbite said its natural spoopy: its cuz im so powerufl spoopy: evidently spoopy: his words not mine nightshade: we'll figure something out, don't worry nightshade: worst case scenario you can hide in my attic nightshade: bubbe is the one who gave me the grimoire after all nightshade: i'm sure she'd be chill with the town demon taking up residence in her attic spoopy: wouldnt yr mom try to exorcise me? nightshade: nah she hates christianity more than she hates phantom and there's no jewish exorcists zermbie: honestly im still surprised that mom and dad took the whole demon thing so well zermbie: like i know we don't go to church regularly but like. still

Danny tosses his phone to the side as the chat derails away from him and his little wing problem.

Ancients, what is he going to do?

There's not really much he can do for now. Maybe just cross his fingers and pray to the Ancients that some sort of mercy still exists for something like him?

So he starts working on his homework. Bed-bound, there's not much else he can do, honestly.

At some point between finishing the trig worksheet and starting on the essay about Dante's Inferno for Lancer (which is kinda funny, actually, since he's pretty intimately aware of what hell actually looks like) he falls asleep.

And, at some point, he must've turned over in his sleep, grinding his poor back into his mattress.

He wakes up shouting.

That's his first mistake.

It's not too late, actually; it's only about eight thirty. It was a nice nap, if with a rude awakening.

He's just about settled again when he hears running footsteps. He only gets halfway up in bed when his door is thrown open, the handle slamming against the drywall.

"Danno! We heard you shout! Are you-"

His second mistake is getting startled. Generally, if his parents are yelling like that, it means that he's Phantom. It means that they don't see him as his son. His body is conditioned—his parents yell, he panics.

When he panics, his emotions run high. When his emotions run high, his eyes change.

So when he looks his mom dead in the eyes and sees hers widen, he knows that his eyes are completely black, with only white pupils.

"Demon," his mom gasps. "A demon! Jack, a demon's possessing Danny!"

The third mistake of the night is that he forgets about his pain, in his panic. He twists his torso and involuntarily shouts again, faltering. He can feel the burst of wetness underneath his bandages and immediately, intimately knows that he's screwed up so, so badly.

His falter is enough for his parents to bring their weapons up to bear, the muzzles of the guns that they built out of blood and bone pointed at him once again.

"Mom, Dad, it's me!"

It's his last gamble. Revealing himself to them as their son wasn't ever something that he really wanted to do, not ever since he saw just how far they were willing to go.

"The portal wasn't working, and I got it working," Danny babbles, bringing his hands up in a motion of surrender. "I... it changed me, but I'm still me! I promise! Please-"

"Get out of our son, fiend!" Dad barks, thumbing the safety off.

"It's me. It's just me," Danny says, heart pounding wildly in his chest. "Please."

"You will always have a place here in the Far Frozen, Great One."

"Jack," Mom breathes, hands shaking slightly. "The curse."

Mom had never said what the curse was, exactly, so as Dad turns to look at her, eyes wide, Danny's listening intently as well.

Well. Mostly.

His tail curls out of the top of his pants, inching up the bed to grab his phone. If nothing else, he has to tell Jazz, Sam, and Tuck what happened to him.

"Blood of your blood, they will fall. Child of yours, they will change. Hunt, and you will bear an enemy that will rip you apart," Mom recites.

"I'm Phantom!" Danny blurts. "I don't want to hurt anyone! I try to keep the other demons out of town! But you thought I was your enemy, I'm not!"

He hasn't exactly texted with his tail before, but it should be at least a little legible. It's only one word after all: caught.

"And I fell into the portal!" He adds. "I didn't—I just wanted to see if I could help," Danny says, swallowing. "Please. I'm—I'm still me. Just... a little different."

"Demons are evil," Mom says, but she doesn't have her usual conviction. Danny's heart soars at the sound.

"Not every single one!" Danny says. "I know this one guy—he's a yeti, and his whole clan is just scholars and healers and stuff. His name is Frostbite and he's helped me out in the past."

Dad's gun is still trained on him.

"Why did you scream, then?" Dad asks, when Mom stays silent. "It sounded like you were in pain."

"'Cause I am," Danny can't help but grumble. Keeping his arms up like this hurts. "I'm... they call me a hybrid? I didn't get possessed or anything. The energy from the portal opening became a part of me, basically, which is how I can look like Phantom. But it's still me, so- " he swallows again. "So some other demon traits are coming through."

"Other?" Mom asks.

Danny tilts his head back a little bit and opens his mouth up wide, showing off his fangs.

"I've had these since, like, week one."

"And we never noticed," Mom murmurs.

They lapse into silence again. Danny's arms start to tremble from the pain of keeping them up; he can feel his back getting wetter by the second. It's pooling around his butt.

That's not good.

"If..." Danny's voice cracks. "If you're going to—to shoot me, get it over with already," he says.

Mom and Dad jump a little at that.

"I can't—if I haven't convinced you, I don't know what will," he says. "I wanted... I wanted to tell you guys, in the beginning. And then you started cutting demons apart and I got scared. I'm sorry."

He's babbling again. Might be blood loss. That's really not good.

"I just wanted to help, and—and then the demons started coming through and I felt responsible, and then I started learning more about everything and learned that not all demons are evil. Not most of them, actually, and some of them were really nice and-"

Mortifyingly, he sniffles slightly.

He's tired. He's in pain. He's probably losing blood way too fast.

He might've been Amity's protector for the past two years, but this is just too much.

"Please." His voice cracks. "Just—just say something."

"...it's really you, isn't it, Danno?" Dad's voice is almost startlingly quiet.

"Yeah," he whispers.

The moment stretches on for a few breaths before Mom lowers her gun. Dad silently follows suit seconds after, uncocking his own.

"Thank you." Embarrassingly enough, this is when his body decides that it's time to start crying. "Thank you, I'm sorry-" He moans in pain as he finally lets his arms drop, back screaming at him.

"Where are you injured?" Mom asks him, her face creasing with concern. She's by his bed in an instant, hands flying to his shoulders.

"Back," he croaks out. "On my desk—there's a salve. I need to change my bandages too."

Dad flicks his light on so they're not all standing around in the dark anymore. That's when Mom audibly gasps.

"Jack! Get the first aid kit-!"

"Can't," he groans. "Just salve and change the bandages. Doctor's orders."

Mom tugs his shirt off with gentle hands and-

Oh. Wow. Okay, that's more blood than he thought. The entire back of his white shirt is now a dark red. She flings the shirt towards his hamper. Dad glances at it before going over to his desk.

Mom freezes where she's unwinding the bandages around his chest.

"Danny. What is that?"

"Mm?"

"At the base of your back."

"Ah." He pulls his tail up, the tip slightly curling. "M' tail. 's why I said other stuff's comin' through," he slurs.

He blinks hard. Oh, that's not good. He's seeing double.

Dad comes back over with his salve, tossing it from hand to hand like a hot potato.

"It's super cold!" Dad says.

"Sorry," Danny says. "'s ice. Everything's ice in the Far Frozen." Mom catches him when he pitches to the side, all but swooning. "Ohh, no. Gotta... gotta get something to eat."

"Soup?" Dad offers, but Danny grunts. He doesn't shake his head 'cause that would be a bad idea.

"Gotta eat something from the Realms. Energy's low." It's really low. The edges of his vision are turning black.

He sighs happily as Mom starts to rub the icy salve into his back.

"Realms?" Mom questions, voice tight.

"You guys call it hell," Danny says, only slightly pouting. "Christian Hell is only a portion of the Realms. They've got every afterlife in there, plus places where—ugh." He swallows, blinks hard. "Where people who were born there just live. Like Frostbite! He's so nice... he made the salve for me."

"Danny, sweetie, you've got to stay awake, okay?" Mom sounds really concerned. "We don't know what you need."

"Jazz 'n' Sam 'n' Tuck know," he protests, blinking hard. "Sleepy."

He groans.

"Sleepy," he repeats, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Danny!"

---

When he comes to later, he's stomach-down on the couch in the living room.

He blinks, thoughts muddy.

He was in his room... he took a nap... he woke up... and then-

Danny's eyes blow wide.

His parents know.

But he's on the couch with a nice blanket over him instead of on an operating table so that had to count for something, right?

He hears voices from the kitchen. He focuses, enhancing the sense.

"...healthy. He has to."

"Jazz..."

"I know you're scared," Jazz replies to Mom. "But he knows more than we do, and his friends know more than him. His friends in hell, at least."

"He called it the Realms," Dad says.

"It's another name for it, yes," Jazz says, very diplomatically. "Your intent and method punched a hole into a specific part of the Realms—hell. Most of the other types of denizens don't stray into the area where the portal is, so we don't usually see them. Danny's described them to me, though. Some are more like ghosts, some are mythological creatures. Some might actually be where we got stories of fairies from, actually, from what he's told me. It's not a lot, though. He's got other things on his mind—protecting the town and finishing high school."

"So the reason for his bad grades and everything else...?"

"Staying out late to protect the town. Getting up in the middle of the night to protect the town. Leaving school in the middle of class to protect town," Jazz says. It's very pointed. Is it a psych thing?

Danny's surprised to see his phone on the side table.

He scoops it up and smudges off a few droplets of his blood before opening it up and navigating to the chat.

His eyes widen.

Sitting there in the message bar is his message. 'cauyght'. He never sent it.

Ancients.

Danny closes his eyes again.

If they hadn't taken it well... no one would've known. They would've had an entire night and morning to do whatever they wanted with him.

A few tears slip from under his closed lids.

Thank the fucking Ancients they took it well.

blood pact under the new moon when? spoopy: i think i just used up my luck for the rest of my entire life. unlife. whaetever spoopy: ancients fuck

#danny phantom #phantasy phest 2023 #demon au #identity reveal #body horror

[scarletsaphire]

Sam and Tucker dared Danny to go into the forest where Fae were supposed to be waiting. They didn't think anything would actually happen. They didn't think it would take hours for him to come back. They didn't think he would come back changed.

---

For Phantasy Phest day 1, and also the stand along story to the oneshot "The Chosen Knight." You don't have to read it to understand this, but I do recommend it. @phantasycentral

The three hours Sam and Tucker had waited were the longest hours of Sam's life. The first thirty or so minutes had been fine; the two of them might bicker a lot, but no matter how much it sounded like full blown arguments, they rarely were. They were perfectly fine hanging out with just the two of them. By the thirty minute mark, however, they started to get anxious. Or rather, Tucker started to get anxious.

"You don't think he actually got kidnapped by fairies, do you?" he'd asked, worrying at his bottom lip.

"Please," Sam said. "If anyone can avoid getting kidnapped by fairies, its Danny. Hell, I could probably avoid getting kidnapped fairies from the time I've spent at his house alone." Sam took a bite of her hummus and cheese sandwich. "It's much more likely that he got kidnapped by a serial killer."

"Sam!" Tucker shouted, tearing out a handful of grass to throw at her. "You are not helping! He could be really hurt in there."

Sam guarded her sandwich with her body. "Relax, Tucker. I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just trying to make us worry. You know, get us back from making him go in there?"

"I guess..." he said. 

When a full hour had passed and Danny still hadn't returned, they both began to worry. 

"This is a little long for a prank, don't you think?" Tucker asked.

"I will admit, this is getting kind of extreme," Sam said slowly. "Unless he's waiting for something?"

"Should we go in after him? He shouldn't have gone in too far, the fairy circle his parents have been talking about was only like, a few hundred feet in," Tucker asked. 

"No, cause then we might just get lost too, and then whose gonna get help for Danny?" Sam said. She stood up off the ground, brushing the grass stains off of her leggings, and offering a hand to Tucker.

"So where are we going then?" he asked as he took it and stood up.

"We're just going to call for him. If he is trying to prank us, he's probably just waiting for us to freak out, right?" Sam said. She walked to the edge of the forest, stopping just when the grass got completely covered in leaf litter. "If we freak out, than he'll come out."

"Ohhh," Tucker said. "I gotcha." He took a deep breath before shouting as loudly as he could, "DANNY!" The name was swallowed by the forest. They got no reply.

Sam repeated what Tucker had done, but there was no difference. They tried again and again until their throats hurt, but nothing happened, not even the stirring of a bird.

"Definitely not a prank," Sam said at last. 

"I told you it wasn't!" Tucker said. It had been almost an hour and a half at this point, and he'd started to wear a path into the grass with his pacing. "I told you ages ago that we should be worried, but no, why would we listen to me!" 

"And if it was just a prank?" Sam asked, raising her hands in frustration. "We would have just left him here to go rat on him to his parents, or the police, or whatever? We would have been in so much trouble. We might not have been allowed to see him again!"

"And what if we're not able to see him again because he got lost and died in the forest?" Tucker spat out. 

"Don't say things like that. I'm sure he'll be just fine. The woods around here aren't that big. If we go get someone now they can start one of those search and rescue things you see on tv."

"Then we're definitely not going to be allowed to see him again," Tucker grumbled.

"Oh, so now that I want to go get people, the punishment is a big deal? Now it matters? What happened to him dying in there, Tucker?"

"You just said to not say things like that!"

"You started it!" 

"I-"

The two of them had gotten into screaming matches like this near constantly through out their friendship, screaming matches held over cafeteria trays or picnic benches or over the tops of scooters as they made their way down Main Street. They were used to getting more and more heated until Danny stepped in with some kind of comment. They were used to listening for his voice, his presence, over the sound of their shouting. It was only because of this that they realized that at that moment, Danny had emerged from the forest.

Tucker and Sam shared a relieved look before hurrying to Danny's side. "You were gone for like, three hours man! We were super worried out here, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Tucker clutched at his heart.

"He's just being a drama queen," Sam said. "It was two hours, tops, and even that's pushing it."

"Ok, it felt like three hours. Because of the heart attack I was suffering from you. You can't just do this to me dude!" Tucker punched Danny's shoulder in a joking manner. Sam felt the creeping, anxious nausea that had dissipated at Danny's arrival return stronger than ever. An arm shouldn't bend that way, and definitely not so easily.

Tucker noticed it too, the color draining from his face. "Oh my god, is your arm broken?" He said, voice barely above a whisper. "I am so, so sorry I didn't know, why didn't you tell me, oh my god I must've made it so much worse, we need to get you to a doctor right now-"

Danny cut off Tucker's rambling. "I'm alright." His voice was strange; it was Danny's voice, unmistakably so, but it didn't carry the same inflections, the same pronunciations. It sounded like if someone tried to make a machine replicate him; close enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be him.  

Sam swallowed hard. Sam had stopped believing in fairies when she was five, and her parents had demanded she give back the twenty dollar bill they'd given her from the tooth fairy by mistake. She'd started believing in them again after hearing the Fenton's talk about their research. They weren't the fairies of Tinker Bell that had been forced down her throat as a child, but of tricksters, of monsters, of hunters. Her belief in them was more along the lines of them being goth as hell, and less on them being an actual, real life threat. Now, faced to face with one that had stolen her friends face? Sam didn't think they were so cool any more.

"What did you do with Danny?" she hissed, grabbing Tucker by the arm and dragging him back to her side. 

Danny tilted his head to the side, moving to look at her directly, and his pupils were far too wide, the light reflecting in them far too orderly. "I am Danny."

"Well, someone did, because you sure as hell aren't him," she said again.

"Sam, what-" Tucker tried to speak, but she dug her nails into his arm, and he shut up quickly.

"Then prove it. Prove that you're our Danny, tell us something only Danny would know," she said. He blinked slowly.

"I never said I was your Danny," he finally said, and Sam felt Tucker go rigid in her grasp.

"Then you did something to him!" she shouted. "Bring him back, or else!"

"I can't." 

"You will," Sam said, reaching into her pocket. The iron bracelet was a gift from Danny's parents; it was too heavy to wear comfortably, but Sam kept it on her at all times anyway. It was a nice reminder of their positive opinion of her. She pulled it out of her pocket and held it in front of her threateningly. "Or. Else." This time, she put more emphasis on her words.

"You don't understand," the impersonator said, and this time it did sound more like Danny. Still not perfect, but if it had come out of the woods sounding like that originally? Sam might have believed it was him. "In third grade, before we were actually friends, you had tried to set free all of the class pets in the building by smuggling them out during recess. The hamster ended up getting into my bag, and it bit me." 

Sam felt her entire body freeze. That had happened, exactly like that. She'd gotten two weeks worse of in school suspension, and had been banned from even sitting near any of the class pets for. Well, basically ever. She still wasn't allowed near them. But this thing wasn't supposed to know that. This thing wasn't Danny. "How...?"

"I told you I wasn't your Danny," he said. "But I don't think I'm not not your Danny either."

"Then what are you?" she asked. 

"I..." Danny tore his gaze from hers. "I don't know anymore." He sunk to the grass. Sam counted four pounding heart beats in her ears before she was on the ground next to him, Tucker close behind. 

#danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #Phantasy Phest 2023 #fae au

[redactedgoose]

@phantasycentral

Hey, I remembered to do this at the start of the day instead of the end of it! Day 2, D&D. I was kinda stumped on what to do until I remembered that the Great Old Ones exist, and, well...

--

The sound of a battle is unmistakable.

The harsh clash of steel on steel, ringing out on impact, layered under shouts of exertion and pain. The creak of leather when fighters tighten their grips on their blades and when the rogues' lighter armor bends under their movement.

Spells have sound, too. Incantations, yelled or snarled; the fwump-woosh of flame and the whistle of bolts of magic, the crackling of ice and electricity.

It rages on. The two sides are more or less equally matched, if not in size then in skill. Paladins and fighters clash at the center of the battle, weapon to weapon. Rogues skulk around the outside, attempting to find openings to pick off enemies. Wizards and sorcerers fire from the back, suppressing their foes' magics and providing support for their allies.

The battle is even.

Then, the battle ceases in an instant. There is no slow progression, no tapering off of hostilities. In one moment, they fight. In the next, they stand still and silent as if they were statues, life belied only by the rising and falling of their chests and the frantic beat of their hearts.

The pulse rings out again, sending all to their knees. There is no sound; there is no force. To an outsider, the scene would look staged, with them falling with no real cause. No spellfire washes across the battlefield, no airborne toxins or any tinkerer's conceit.

No, the area around the battlefield is deathly quiet. Still. Even the breaths of the combatants are quiet and stifled, coming too fast. Not that any of them could hear their breaths over the pounding in their ears, the echo of their rabbiting hearts.

No birdsong rings from the trees; even the wind has stopped blowing, as if even it was too scared to approach.

The change in the scenery is almost too subtle to notice as the presence pulses a third time, the unnatural force echoing through their rib cages and stealing their breath.

High above them, there is a crack in the sky. It hangs there, a dark slit standing proud of the light blue that's slowly reddening with the approach of sunset, with no clouds to obscure it.

One... two... three... four... five.

Five dark points pierce through the slit.

Thud.

Another pulse. Some of the combatants fall the rest of the way to the ground, sorcerers and magicians falling with soft thumps, fighters and knights falling with great clattering crashes, dashing the silence for a brief moment.

Six... seven... eight... nine... ten.

Five more join the first group, neatly slotting between the first, and the sky darkens.

Thud.

Then the slit begins to widen. The ten dark points split into five and five once more, holding fast to either edge of the slit—the tear—in the sky.

The more religiously-minded combatants start to pray. Not aloud. They're unable to, bodies stiff like corpses from the pressure and the fear.

Something is coming. Something is coming and that something is wrong. Their base instincts all but scream in the back of their minds, screaming, pleading for them to run, to get away, that they need to leave now if they want to continue their existences.

And still the tear widens.

Only some of the still-kneeling combatants are able to see the first blushes of color through the tear. It had, at first, been blacker than black, an endless void stretching for a distance that only the gods knew—and then, even maybe they did not.

Swirls of red, purple, and pink flicker across the ever-growing tear, soon followed by orange, yellow, and blue. They dance within the void, shooting it through with sparkling veins, mixing and separating as they pleased.

Then came the green.

A single pinprick hangs in the void in the tear, fixed in place. A sword of Damocles hung in the sky, as weighty as a guillotine at the top of its tether.

The tear continued to grow, the dark pinpricks tearing the sky asunder becoming more defined. One huntsman, deep in his throes of fear and animalistic terror, recognized them as claws, more wickedly sharp than any animal's that he'd ever seen.

Not a single one of the combatants had succumbed to unconsciousness. All, whether they could see it or not, are forced to bear witness.

The green pinprick grows larger, brighter. This big, it's more defined. This close, it's more defined, for in the center of the green is an even darker void than the one it inhabits, painting horrifying truth.

It's an eye.

A large, luminous eye peering down at the assorted combatants.

Frozen as they are, fear locking their limbs even as their minds scram at them to run, to fight, they cannot do anything as the eye sweeps across them, considering them and dismissing them as beneath it's notice in the span of a breath, however stilled they may be.

The eye looks farther still, towards the edge of the battleground.

It pauses, resting it's gaze on the caravan that had borne half the combatants up until this point.

The caravan is large but dingy, the canvas cover weathered and the wood worn. The pressure on the combatants lift just slightly as the being's attention falls on it instead of them.

Then, between one blink and the next, the entire caravan is in shreds, bits of canvas and wood littered in a perfect circle around where it once stood. The only thing untouched in the circle is an oversized, wrought iron birdcage, a shredded cover just barely concealing what it holds.

"yacdilh yamy..."

Thud!

Darkness gathers in the tear, one set of claws pushing further into their reality. The air seems to warp around those sharp, dark tips as they push down, more inky black gathering behind them. The shadow clarifies into fingertips, which manifests into fingers, until a gigantic, dark hand is stretching down from the tear in the sky.

Doomed, doomed, we're all doomed...

The thing with the power to rip the fabric of reality asunder was now reaching down into their world.

It's hand, tipped with those wickedly sharp claws, descends. An arm, equally as black as the void from which it came, follows.

Their barest relief comes in that the hand is not intent on them. No. It reaches for the iron bird cage.

Tenderly, in as much as something as Other as it could be ascribed the word, it parts the last of the cover, a single claw splitting it down the middle to reveal the contents.

Inside the bird cage sits a young girl. Her hair is black, her skin pale. Her eyes glow that same green as the thing in the void's.

She tips her head back and calls out in that same language as the being, her voice nearly as painful to hear as the being's but so much younger and more tender. "yafrehta!"

All at once, the combatants feel their stomachs drop, realizing the depths of their transgression.

The current owners of the bird cage had only known the girl as a powerful warlock, drawing inhuman power from her patron, so much stronger than the norm. She was a commodity; a prize to be won. Controlling her would increase any lord's power by tenfold.

Such was the desire of the other party. Take her, take her power, and use her to their own ends.

The being taps a claw on top of the bird cage, neatly splitting it down the center. All at once, the girl morphs and transforms before their eyes. Her hair turns a glowing white, eyes becoming larger and more luminous. Her tattered traveling clothes almost sublimate into fine robes of a deep green, her hands turning that same inky black as the being's.

She was no mere warlock. She was the thing's child.

The few combatants who had come to the realization tremble where they kneel or lie. Was this their end? Even humans had killed for less of a reason.

The girl rises into the air, seating herself on the thing's hand.

It pulls her up into the tear, her white hair vanishing instantly in the void.

The eye remains.

It stares down at them, intent.

Impossibly, incomprehensibly, the other set of claws retreat from the edge of the tear. And then, it starts to seal up, edges pulling back to each other like the lacing of a corset.

Throughout it all, the eye hangs in the void, staring down at them.

Even when the tear finally closes, they stay as they are.

Kneeling or lying on the ground.

Terrified.

Very few of the combatants would ever talk of this day in the future. The day that they avoided their deaths—no. The day that they avoided their obliteration at the hands of the being with the power to rip reality apart.

It would have been so easy for it to have squashed them like the bugs they are, after all.

--

yacdilh yamy -> reverse -> ymay hildcay -> pig latin -> my child yafrehta -> reverse -> atherfay -> pig latin -> father

#danny phantom #dp #phantasy phest 2023 #day 2 dungeons and dragons #danny is a great old one and ellie is his kid so she's a mini great old one

[scarletsaphire]

Mikey has been the DM for his Dungeons and Dragons group for ages. But that changes today; the local game store is holding an event, which means that he is finally going to get to play! The sorry sucker that's been assigned their DM, named Edgar, will have no idea what hit them.

---

And the other definitely not forgotten one @phantasycentral

"Are you excited?" Nathan asked as he walked down the street next to Mikey, holding his folder close to his chest.

"Am I excited," Mikey repeated in a mocking tone. "Of course I am! I've been stuck as you lot's dungeon master for five years now. Finally, I'll be able to be a player and join in your game ruining shenanigans!"

"Hey!" Caroline said. "We don't ruin any of the games."

"Yea," the other Nathan, or Nate as the gang tended to call him, added. "We enhance it!"

Mikey stopped in his walking to turn and look Nate in the eye. "You caused a black hole by sling-shotting a bag of holding into another bag of holding, ending the big bad instantly, and causing a TPK. On session four."

"Ok, but it's your fault we had two bags of holding," Nathan argued.

"It was not!" Mikey protested. "You guys are the ones who broke into the Grand Wizards Tower the second it was introduced, and then robbed him blind when he tried to stop you!"

"I mean," Caroline said, "You are the one who gave him two bags of holding."

"He made them!" Mikey was nearly yelling at this point. "He was the maker of like, all the enchanted items in the land, of course he'd have two bags of holding!"

"Still your fault," Nate said.

Mikey tugged at his hair. "This is exactly why I am so excited this event is happening. If I have to run one more game with you dunderheads as my party I'm going to lose my mind."

"I thought you already lost your mind when I made that Tabaxi?" Caroline asked, grinning deviously in a way that she only ever did around them. She was normally very self concious about her braces, but apparently bashing orcs heads in with a great axe made for great bonding experiences.

"Oh yea, that one that could run like, 300 feet in a turn!" Nathan said. "I remember that! You ran circles around that Dragonborn, literally!"

"I did!" she preened. "And I distinctly remember you saying that it was the final nail in the coffin of what was left of your sanity."

"I got it back," Mikey sniffed. "Because I'm just better like that."

"If you were than you wouldn't get so hung up on us just having some fun with your games," Nate said, elbowing Mikey in the side.

"Whatever," Mikey grumbled. "Hopefully, whoever is our DM for this event is someone really good, and our schedules will line up, and they can take the curse of Forever DM away from me."

"Well, we're about to find out," Nathan said, coming to a stop in front of the game store. "You all ready?" The group traded determined nods, and made their way into the building.

It was populated, but not full. A number of people were sitting at fold out table in the rear end of the store, just visible through the shelves of board games, RPG books, and fancy dice. A middle aged man stood behind the counter, helping a young woman buying a pack of Pokemon cards. He waved to the lot of them when they came in briefly, before returning to the transaction. They all hovered at the counter, waiting for him to be finished.

It didn't take long before the woman was happily on her way out, Pokemon cards in hand, and the man turned to the four of them. "Howdy folks!" he said, voice thick with a southern accent. "Y'all here for the D&D stuff I take it?"

"Uh, yea," Mikey said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "We uh. We signed up online?"

"Yup, most did," he said. "My name's Chris, I run this place with my sister. Give me just a second to pull up the list and..." Chris clicked a few buttons on his computer. "Ok, it looks like you'll be playing with Edgar. He's the fella in the purple jacket, right back there." Chris nodded his head towards the back, where, just as described, a man sat at the head of one of the empty fold out tables, a DM screen in front of him and a play mat stretched out across the table.

"Ok," Mikey said. "Uh, thank you!" With that, he led the group the rest of the way into the game store. Edgar looked nice enough; he was on the paler side, with dark black hair and a well kept goatee. He had also set up the map pretty well, at least from Mikey's perspective; most of it was covered with papers, which he presumed would be removed while they explored. When the three of them approached the table, Edgar looked up and smiled at them.

"Aw yes, you must be my adventurers!" he said. "I'm Edgar, and I'll be the story writer for the evening. I assume you have all created characters for the evening?"

Mikey and the rest of the group gave a variety of affirmatives, as they all took their seats at the table. "Do you want to take a look at our character sheets before we get started?" Nathan asked, pulling the paper out and holding it out to Edgar. 

Edgar waved the paper away. "There's no need. I'm sure I will become... properly acquainted with all of your characters by the end of this story. Now, are you all ready to start? I promise, it will be an adventure to die for."

Mikey caught Caroline's eyes from across the table. She looked nervous. They all did; none of them were exactly what would be described as sociable, outgoing people, so it was only natural that they'd all have some kind of social anxiety in this situation, but there was something off about Edgar. Something about the way that he spoke...

Mikey took a deep breath. His mom had been getting on his case lately, about needing to get out of his comfort zone more. She probably meant to start playing a sport or something, but this counted. Maybe Edgar was just as nervous and socially awkward as they were, and just had an odd way of saying it? "We're ready," Mikey said. 

"Wonderful. Then let us begin."

---

Mikey couldn't say at what point during the exposition things started to get weird. Edgar was a very good storyteller, so for a while, it just seemed like he was painting a very vivid picture of the forest laid out before them, vivid enough that Mikey could see the towering trees and dappled sunlight on the ground. And then he could smell the clear, cool air, and hear the bird song and the wind rustling in the leaves, and feel the dirt on the ground beneath his leather boots, and Mikey was no longer just Mikey, he was Erdri, his dragonborn paladin. 

"What..." Nathan, a half-elf cleric named Vaeril. "What happened? How are we..."

"Ok cool so I'm not just going crazy," Nate said. His spoke with a lisp, his half-orc tusks making the softer sounds of Common awkward. 

"Not unless we all are," Caroline replied. Mikey almost missed her; she was a halfling rogue, which made her very, very easy to miss. "You don't think..."

"That I was a ghost?" It was Edgar's voice, coming from a squirrel in the trees. "If you didn't, you'd be wrong. You can call me Ghost Writer, and I've decided to play my hand at this new form of collaborative story telling. You will be my test group! How lucky you are."

Nate drew his great-axe from behind his back. "You let us go right now! You won't get away with this!" 

"Oh, none of that," Ghost Writer replied. "If you won't play fair, than neither will I." Nate tripped and fell face first on the ground, the great-axe flying from his hand. "All you have to do is finish this adventure. That's what you agreed to do, is it not?"

"Not like this!" Nathan complained.

"Tomato, tomato," Ghost Writer said. "You agreed, and now you have to see the story to the end. Be careful! I'm not planning on going easy on you." The squirrel lost the imprint of Ghost Writer's features, returning to existence as a completely regular squirrel.

"We're gonna die," Caroline said, just above a whisper. "We're totally going to die!"

"No, we're not," Mikey said. The strength in his voice surprised him. "We're going to win."

"How can you say that?" Nate asked, brushing the dirt off of his face. "We've never done anything like this before!"

"Yes, we have! We've been playing Dungeons and Dragons for years. You all are experts at breaking a DM's story, and I know all the tips and tricks about DMing that there is to know. This "Ghost Writer" won't know what hit him."

"Ok," Nathan said, taking a deep breath. "Ok. I believe you. But why the hell do I believe you."

"I rolled like, an 18 in charisma."

"That'll do it."

"Onwards and upwards?" Nate held his hand out between the four of them. 

One by one they all added their hands to the stack. 

"Onwards and upwards!" They said the cheer unanimously, throwing their hands up in the air. Together, they made their way deeper into the forest, where adventure awaits.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #phantasy phest 2023 #mikey danny phantom #I do not think a single other character has a tag. I dont even know if mikey actually has a tag! #take it.