#phic phight 19 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charcoalhawk · 1 year

Text

Could you not have waited five minutes?

At the end of the day, the thing that pissed Danny off the most was that this wasn’t even his bank.

All he came in here for was a proof of income statement so he could officially buy the apartment he had been looking at. It hadn’t been the best place he visited during his apartment search, but it was within his price range, near his job, and it was a place he could afford to live on his own.

Or, Danny tries to stop a bank robbery.

Third fic for the 2023 Phic Phight, prompt from @wingedflight: Danny gets caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Can he diffuse the situation without revealing his powers?

At the end of the day, the thing that pissed Danny off the most was that this wasn’t even his bank.

He needed that proof of income today. Tomorrow was the weekend, and the main office at the complex he was looking at only worked on the weekdays.

He had actually meant to go yesterday, but he had needed to stay late at work and by the time he got off and was able to drive over it had been closed.

He might have been able to get there if he had flown, but unfortunately he’d had too many close calls to want to flagrantly display his powers now that he was living on his own. Fly around Amity? Everyone was too used to weird shit there, as long as you didn’t acknowledge it was weird no one gave you a second look.

But now, he didn’t have the protection of his parents' incompetence nor the safety of the Zone to flee to. So he was trying to only use his powers in situations where there was no other choice, at least as long as he was living in this big city.

Danny had been next in line. If these clowns had been five minutes slower he could have gotten in and out without dealing with this bullshit.

But then there’s the sound of glass shattering as three people bulrush the small lobby with these ridiculous masks that remind Danny of those creepy Anime face masks Sam got from Hot Topic once.

“Everybody on the ground! If I see even one phone none of you are making it out of here alive!”

(…Would Clockwork let him hop back half an hour so he didn’t spend those ten minutes commiserating with Jazz on the phone about moving so far away? It had felt so good to vent to his sister about why he needed to be out of Amity for at least a few months, but maybe he should have saved it for tomorrow night when they were going to meet up and plan how they were going to move him without their parents noticing.

Nah. The ghost already had so much on their plate. Besides, Clocky usually showed up on his own time when things were dire enough. So, at least he was reasonably certain this was not a timeline-destroying event.)

Everyone hits the ground hard, he sees one kid’s stuffed animal fly from her hands as her mom drags her to the floor and hunches over her like a human shield. The three robbers disperse around the room, with one guy standing near the one door while the other two move towards the tellers.

As the two near him Danny fights the instinct to glance at them as they pass. The smallest of the bunch stops right next to Danny as the last guy waltz’s behind the tellers desks to where they had dropped to.

Now, most of Danny’s knowledge of bank robberies came from action movies, so he had a very poor grasp of how these things were supposed to go. Should he stay lying down with the others? Does he call the robber’s bluff and hope they’ll leave in shame after getting told off by a barely legal adult?

Does he turn intangible and escape outside? He’s not a hero here, he’s just a 19 year old kid who needs a shitty proof of income statement to move into this shitty apartment miles and miles away from his town and his friends.

Well, he can’t just leave now that he’s here, turning intangible would mean leaving these people on their own when there was something there he could have done.

He knows now he can’t be everywhere at once, the entire world is not resting on his shoulders. But he is here, now. He can help the people around him and do his best to make sure everyone walks out of her alive.

There’s three robbers, one that's around Danny’s height, one that couldn’t be more then five foot even, and one who towered over them like a dollar tree Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The robbers had entered just after two, which Danny knows from the past half hour was when all the tellers finally got back from their lunch break. A fact that was not posted anywhere beyond inside the bank itself. Meaning they had likely scoped the place out beforehand.

But why later in the day? Why when they know the line will be longest from people being forced to wait for the tellers to return. Why not come earlier in the day when there was less potential collateral?

But then he remembered the big truck that had been pulling out of the parking lot just as he arrived. They had waited until now because before two the bank was working with cash from the previous day, but now they had a whole lot of new cash inside. And depending on how fast they could smuggle it the chance of the stolen cash being traced back to them would be marginally less.

Danny thinks about what he would have done had this taken place in Amity Park.

Amity was a cash heavy town, so he knows in years previous they had probably dealt with their fair share of bank robbers. But nowadays? If someone had been stupid enough to try that in his town the teller would probably have just laughed at the guy and told them they were better off trying to rob the mayor’s house.

All this was avoiding the big question though- should he risk going ghost and have this track back to the GIW, or try this the old fashioned human way and hopefully not get shot?

Three people were not a lot to deal with, but the big guy did give him some concerns.

And of course, he’s used to ecto weapons or fists, not guns.

He subtly glanced up at the robber standing next to him. They seemed to be surveying the people huddling on the floor, hands curled around his weapon.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence as the third robber moves into the back with the teller, but then a sound pierces the air that sends Danny’s heart down to the basement.

The kid has started to cry. Great heaving sobs as she huddles into her mother’s chest.

“Shut that thing up or I'll shut it up for you.” The big guy snarled from his place by the door, raising his gun slightly to make his point abundantly clear.

Fuck. These people were serious.

The mother is furiously trying to shush her kid, but she’s old enough to have understood the threat, and it seems nothing can calm her down.

The guy standing next to Danny seems to shift nervously, which at least tells him these guys aren’t all on the same page.

Maybe… he hasn’t tried partially possessing someone before, not enough to overshadow, but just enough to get them to say something they might not otherwise. He fears obvious possession might make things worse, and the last thing he needs is to give these assholes a reason to attack.

As subtle as he can he touches his fingers to the closest boot of the gut still standing next to him.

He tries to push his core out, not into creating a double but just an impression of himself over to try and nudge the guy’s thoughts.

We don’t need to hurt these people, we don’t need to hurt these people, we don’t need to hurt-

“Hey, knock it off. We get the cash and we get out, no need to complicate things by adding a body count to this.”

“Fuck off.” Both of their attentions are focused on the kid and her mom, with the big guy growing visibly more aggravated as the crying continues.

“Dude, just watch the door, don’t let one brat’s whining ruin it for us. After we pull this off you can move out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere and they’re won’t be any people, let alone kids, for miles.”

“Screw that, I’m moving to a goddam island, get me a lifelong tropical vacation for all the shit I’ve had to put up with.”

Good, good. The conversation moves away from people around them, towards all the things they’re going to buy with the money, and venting on all that they’ve had to deal with before this.

Thank the ancients, these guys are talkative. He can still see the big guy glance over at the crying kid every minute or so. Meaning he has to keep influencing shorty here to keep him distracted.

By Danny’s estimation it’s been about ten minutes since the three entered, meaning hopefully if the teller is cooperating these guys should be out of here in the next few minutes. The last guy had been carrying at least five big bags, so hopefully they’ll get what they want and Danny can leave and find another bank to get his income statement from.

“Hal better be back soon, we’re cutting it too close.” The smaller man shifts, forcing Danny to ty andshift along with him.

“He knows what he’s doing, Judy stick to the plan and- What the fuck! His eyes are fucking glowing, what the shit!”

Both guys are suddenly staring at him, and in that moment Danny remembers Jazz telling him that even when he looks human his eyes will glow an unnatural green when he has to use his powers.

At the time he had brushed the remark off, because even if someone noticed he could waive it off by saying one of his parents' inventions had backfired on him.

Not so now.

In the moment it’s taken him to realize what’s happened both robbers have their guns aimed at him, and as their eyes meet he can see panic overtake both of them as they go scrambling back a step.

Before he can try to explain, to try and diffuse the situation, before his core can even start pumping enough to give him the adrenaline he needs-

The guy is slamming his finger down on the trigger, and-

Oh.

Getting shot is painful.

#danny phantom #phic phight 2023 #team human #no beta i die like danny #bank robbery #threats of violence #guns

14 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 5 years

Text

Something Clearly Went Wrong In The Build-A-Ghost Workshop - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @imdeadtiredtm Prompt: Danny discovers that Ghosts find his mostly human-like appearance (even in ghost form) is, to them, extremely disturbing. Summary: Why are all your body parts like that Phantom? What cruel god designed you?

Warning: Mild cannon typical body horror, mentions of injuries, mentions of broken bones

Danny Phantom is just chilling in a tree watching the night stars, as a long black haired ghost pops her head up beside him. “Where the? Uh, do you mean harm lady?”, Danny’s a little startled that she showed up before his ghost sense went off, but decides not to start shit.

“Naw, I’m chill, just wanted to invite you to scare a bunch of young ghosts”, she props her head and arms up on a branch close to his face.

“I’m not in the business of scaring and nothing about me is scary anyway? I’m, like, the most inoffensive ghost out there”, for emphasis Danny runs his hand up and down his small friendly form.

She shakes her head at him but snickers, “you’re thinking like a human. Nothing about you isn’t horrifying, except the eyes and glow. Hair’s ok too I guess, kinda fucking hard for hair to be scary”.

“Um, what? That doesn’t even make sense?”, Danny sits up properly while the other ghost gets herself settled on another branch; looking plenty amused.

“DP, just last week there was gossip around saying that Skulker managed to snag your glove, and while fighting him you scratched him. But you don’t have claws, so the scratch marks were all blunt and shit. Even heard your freaking nails bent off the nail bed, that is straight up disturbing”, she shivers a bit as if to prove a point. Before wiggling her very sharp and long claws at Danny, “we’re supposed to have claws not freaking nails, and they’re not supposed to bend off”, she’s laughing a little now, even if it’s a bit off.

Danny rubs his neck a bit bashfully, “hey now, even I though the nails coming off thing was fucked, any human would too. I don’t go around yanking off my nails though and I’m definitely not doing that just to scare some ghostly kids”. Tilting his head curiously as he continues, “though I don’t see how blunt nails is scarier than sharp claws. Claws cut and slice, that’s far more terrifying”.

The girl shakes her head, “nope, that’s useful, not terrifying. Nails are completely useless and only serve to hurt yourself, ripping them off in fights and shit. Plus, I’d rather be slashed by a sharp knife than a dull one. Claws are a sharp knife, nails are a blunt knife”, she makes stabbing motions at her arm which just makes Danny slightly unsettled.

“Well yeah, nails, in general, don’t serve much purpose, not everything has to have a purpose. But I can at least see your point there”, Danny nods a little while inspecting the tips of his gloves. “But it’s not like they’re even visible, usually. Literally the only visible things you implied were scary is my jumpsuit and skin, how the hell is my freaking skin scary?”.

She smacks her cheeks in reference to the fact that the only skin on Danny that’s even visible is on his face, “well, ignoring that you actually have skin under the suit, which is just plain wrong. Your skin colour is bland, it blends into everything. Like some creepy ass chameleon, ghosts are supposed to be flashy things. Our greens and blues are safe colours, you’re like a tan/yellow caution light”. Fiddling with the end of her ghostly tail, which is wrapped loosely around the branch, “then there’s the whole your ghost skin is darker than your human skin, like you’ve been fucking fried or burnt. One of the running rumours is that those rings of yours literally burn your skin when you transform”.

Danny stares at her incredulously, “what? Hell no that would be awful! My skin’s probably darker because I was electrocuted to my half death. Peach is a warm colour, safe. Blue is pretty sickly looking, so not sure how that’s supposed to be better. And so what none of you have skin under your clothing? If you ask me that’s fucking weird”.

“Ghosts aren’t supposed to be warm, we’re cold things. Looking warm when you’re not is so deceptive and that’s kind of creepy. Blue is cold”, she then makes a point of yanking off her collar showing nothing but floating semi-solid ectoplasm. “Our clothing is our skin. Zone knows what your “clothing” even is!”.

“Pretty sure it’s just ectoplasm taking a specific and solid form based off what I half died in”, Danny proves his point by yanking off a glove, letting it dissolve into ectoplasm and slowly dissipate away. Promptly forming a set of mini rings to reform it.

She watches the glove as it dissolves and disappears, “so it’s skin then, you have two sets of skin. That is fucking freaky”.

Danny blinks a couple times before staring down at his hand, muttering, “I never even thought of it that way before, huh”.

She nods curtly before bending her body and head down to look him in the face, “that’s not too mention the fact that your suit looks like a ghost hunters suit. Hell, the others who wear the same sort of thing actively try to actually destroy all of us. The flaming DP is cool though, the rest, not so much”.

“Ok yeah, I’ll give you that for sure, especially since that is literally what it is. Originally, it had my dad’s face on it too; so glad that got torn off before I half died”, Danny physically shudders at the thought of having to fly around with that thing stuck to his chest for the rest of his half-life and possible death.

She grimaces in suit, “that’s both creepy and gross”. Danny can’t help but nod and pat his DP symbol affectionately.

“Speaking of shit you shouldn’t have”, she holds up and wiggles her arm about like it’s a ghostly tail, “bones. You still have damn bones. At least half the zone has horror stories of seeing your bones jutting out of your skin or suit. Like what the fuck? Literally everyone comments about how it’s utterly sickening to hear the cracking sounds your body makes”. Shaking her head and shivering, “and like, what’s even the fucking point of them? To hurt you? Is your body just horrendously masochistic? Ghosts don’t need them to be stable so what?”.

Danny doesn’t really have an answer as to why himself, “can’t say I know why but unlike you guys, I can remain stable indefinitely outside of the GZ. So consider that a use. And I can’t say anyone enjoys broken bones but humans have them, I’d be fucking disturbed if my bones suddenly disappeared whenever I’m a ghost”.

She taps her chin a bit, “well at least that sort of makes sense. Still creepy though”.

Snapping her fingers at him before pointing at her ghostly tail, “what about your leg bones or whatever? You have a ghostly tail, I know that for sure”.

Danny blinks at her a bit because yeah he had no bones and shit in his tail, “and there’s something else I never really think about. But yeah, no bones in my tail and thinking of it I can pretty much negate my bones”. To prove his point, he wiggles his arms like a ghostly tail and spins his head around, which earns some laughs from her.

“Now see that’s some proper ghost shit, that means your bones are just a straight up enigma then”

Returning to normal Danny shrugs, “my very existence is supposedly against the very laws of the universe and nature so”. He can’t help but bring his attention to his impossible, but still there, pulse; showing a small toothy smile.

She points at his mouth, “yeah see, that’s creepy too”.

“Uh what? My damn teeth? If I had extra teeth then I’d get that, but they’re pretty damn normal and average”, Danny runs his tongue across his teeth, never having actually paid any attention to them before and now officially wondering if they were weird.

She opens her mouth wide at him, showing off her rows of sharp pointy teeth and four large sets of fangs, snapping her mouth shut with a loud clack sound before speaking, “teeth are for biting, so again with the sharp knife verse dull knife thing. You couldn’t even make a clean bite through someone’s arm if you tried, you’d have to like, naw it off”, both of them shudder but she’s shuddering at the feeling of blunt teeth slowly grinding away on her arm until it severed. While he’s shuddering at the idea of biting a part of someone’s body off at all.

“Who the hell goes around biting people?! Teeth are for biting food, and maybe catching shit when my arms are full, not for biting people!”, Danny stares at her judgingly while she laughs at him.

“Ghost do, that’s who. Like I said, you think so very human. Plus, not having fangs is like not having fingers on your hands. It’s not horrifying, just very off”

Danny rolls his eyes, “I mean I could see how fangs might be useful but they’re predatory, predatory usually implies scary or threatening”.

“Ghosts are predators, so be more of a damn predator then. It’s like you’re a lamb behaving like a wolf. Your form screams prey but you’re a predator. Combine that with your power and it’s even worse. You’re a straight up super predator”.

Danny rubs his neck bashfully, knowing full well he’s easily one of the strongest ghosts out there, “while I won’t deny my power, I think I look more approachable by looking less like a super overpowered being”.

Switching out her tail for legs and crossing them, “That’s only to humans! Which really shouldn’t be comforting to them either, since that makes you quite literally a wolf in sheep's clothing; in a heard of sheep. Your form doesn’t reflect your power at all, strength is supposed to be palpable. Seeing a strong form is comforting and far less embarrassing to lose against, but you just look like a failed predator. The sight of a lamb maiming a wolf is just fucked up and all kinds of disturbing”.

“You keep saying predator but I wouldn’t call myself a predator at all. I’m not running around devour things or some shit”.

“Oh so you don’t prowl the night looking for trouble, getting into fights and protecting your territory? Could have fooled me”, her words are thickly laced with sarcasm while Danny looks rather embarrassed. Smirking at the green glow coming to his cheeks, “that’s what I thought, Mr. Predator”.

Danny makes a pouty face at her while she rolls her eyes, “so party? Literally, you could just show up and throw your gloves at them. Bare your teeth or smile or whatever. And congrats! A bunch of disturbed, slightly terrified little ghost brats. Who maybe learn a little life lesson about not underestimating people for their looks or some shit”.

Danny groans but decides why the hell not, they’ll all met him eventually at some point. Might as well play around a bit, pointing at her aggressively but playfully, “fine, I am so not breaking a bone or tearing off my nails though”.

End.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #Danny Phantom #phantom #fanfic #phanphic #danny fenton #mild canon typical body horror #mentions of injury #mentions of broken bones #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #team human

273 notes · View notes

aggressivelyclueless · 5 years

Text

Revelation of a Ghost Gazer

prompted by @duckapus "Reveal- Jack starts to question why ghost hunting equipment malfunctions around Danny. Exclusively around Danny." Words: 6083 Warning: mildly feelsy i guess?

There was another fire in the lab downstairs. The portal had sealed itself shut as a precautionary measure against the blaze, but most of the other equipment was at serious risk. The soldering iron had melted through the plastic casing on which it had been left, and fused several important wiring components together before the works had gone up in flames. The lab's smoke alarm had been dismantled long ago, not because of this incident but because of the toaster on the other work-table that had a terrible tendency to go unnoticed until it had all but incinerated its contents. This meant that, although the lab wasn't uninhabited, the fire itself went unchecked and unattended. Jack Fenton was at it again. He stood at the opposite end of the lab, a miniaturized ecto-shield generator in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. The fire behind him crawled slowly across the tabletop, hoping to grab onto the more sizable machinery at the other end, and inched upwards, strengthened by the stack of loose papers that had been left out. It chewed them up in seconds, sending a dark plume of smoke rising up and crawling across the ceiling. After a moment, the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off. This Jack noticed. He turned, jumping in surprise at the growing flames before him, and made a dive for the fire extinguisher in the corner. He doused most of the lab with it, waited for the smoke to settle, and doused it again just to make sure. "Jack?" his wife's voice floated down to him from upstairs, "Is that the smoke alarm again? What's going on down there?" "Nothing, honey!" he called back, a little too quickly. He could hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, and held the extinguisher behind his back in the hopes that she wouldn't notice that he'd just used it to make a mess of the lab around him. Maddie paused at the landing, crossing her arms. "Jack. What did you do this time?" "Me? I didn't do anything!" Jack exclaimed, jerking one thumb at the portal behind him, which reopened now that it wasn't in danger of shorting out. "You should have seen the ghost that just came through, though - I got him good this time!" Maddie sighed. "With the Fenton fire extinguisher? Really, dear? You know how many times I've told you to be more careful." Jack slumped. "Yeah, I know. But it was an accident, and I took care of it - !" "Yes, I'm sure you did," said Maddie, sliding a glance to the ruined equipment on the worktable across the room, "Jack, why don't you take a break for the afternoon? I'm sure this will all still be here tomorrow." "But - " Jack protested, "I was this close to fixing the interference on the ghost gazer - !" Maddie threw a hand up. "Look, Jack, I'm not going to argue with you - but you've been at it every day this week, and I think it's starting to get to you." "Maybe it is," Jack admitted, shoulders slumping. He glanced over at the malfunctioning thing; ever since he'd finished constructing it last week, it had pointed him directly upwards, as if a ghost was floating over his head and he didn't know it. Yeah, right, like I wouldn't notice if there was a ghost right on top of me! He'd tried at least three separate methods of fixing it; this was, perhaps, the most meticulous he'd ever been in a project this small, but Maddie was right about it bothering him. One day, he thought he'd had it. The malfunctioning blip had disappeared - at least, until the kids got home from school that afternoon. He'd come up to tell them how excited he'd been that he'd finally gotten it to work, and as if on cue it had malfunctioned again. It was almost as if it didn't want anyone other than him to see it. Stupid ghost-gazer. It should know better than to mess with Jack Fenton! I'll show that piece of junk who's boss! Unfortunately, he hadn't actually done that. He tromped upstairs anyway, defective machine in hand, and sat at the kitchen table instead. He couldn't seem to put the thing down, even though he was tired of it. The blip, he noticed, was honed in on something upstairs. "That's strange," he muttered to himself. He remembered the last time that a ghost had gotten into the house - he'd fired up the ecto-foamer to take care of it, and instead of locking onto the actual ghost, it had locked instead onto the door to Danny's room. He'd come close to blowing a hole in the house that night, and he was glad that Maddie hadn't been around to see the mess. Danny certainly hadn't forgiven him - can't you go and screw things up somewhere else? he'd snapped, and if Jack was honest it still stung - and he was increasingly certain that something upstairs was causing the interference. He knew it wasn't either of the kids' mobiles; he'd had Maddie run a handful of tests with hers, and there hadn't been any problems. Maybe there was something glitchy in the wiring of the house? That would certainly explain why it was always coming from upstairs, and why some of the other sensors were picking it up. He realized that, no, the kids' rooms weren't wired in with the rest of the house. He'd suggested a few months ago that they should consider having a few security measures put in, but Jazzypants had been adamantly against it. She'd argued tooth and nail about it until Jack had dropped the subject two weeks later. Even Danny had scoffed, although he was less civil about it. At least Jazz had the decency not to accuse him outright of wanting to spy in on her life. That was almost the first thing out of Danny's mouth when he'd heard about it. That said, the ecto-foamer incident had been a week prior, and Jack supposed that might have had something to do with his hostility. He recalibrated the device for the eighteenth time. Maybe, if he was standing in the kitchen this time, it might recognize that it was being stupid. It didn't, and Jack sighed. He'd refused to let his wife touch it this far - he wanted to solve this little problem for himself! - but he reluctantly handed the thing to her. "Maddie," he said glumly, "I hate to ask, but did you want to take a look at it?" Maddie took it, doing another quick recalibration to no avail. "Well," she said reluctantly, "I suppose you could always scrap it and start over, if it's giving you this much trouble - " "Start over?" Jack exclaimed, "Just because of a little blip that won't go away? You think I'm going to give up that easily? Me - Jack Fenton? Give up?" Maddie gave him a flat look. "Well, don't, then. I just think you should put it down and come back to it tomorrow - or next week. You might have better luck if you find something else to work on in the meantime." Jack finally set the device down. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this is getting further under my skin that I realized. Well! Guess I'm done worrying about that for now!" He picked up the device, tossing it down the stairs and slamming the lab door behind him. "Guess it's time for pity fudge!"

He was not done worrying about it. The kids had gone to bed an hour ago, and Maddie had fallen asleep on the couch with a good book. Jack was back downstairs, ghost-gazer half taken apart on the work-table. He'd checked the wiring at least twice from top to bottom, and even run it through the spectral scanner to see if it had been overtaken by a mischievous little haunt itself. It hadn't, and even the spectral scanner was overcome with the interference. Jack wondered if it was some kind of ghost virus. Computers got viruses, after all - who's to say they couldn't get ghost viruses? He thought it was entirely possible. He gave both of the faulty machines a once-over with the Fenton Creep Cleanser. That, finally, seemed to do the trick. The mysterious blip disappeared from both devices at once. Jack was stunned. He'd almost run out of ideas, and hadn't fully expected something like that to even work in the first place. He stood over the devices in a moment of disbelief; how could it have been that easy, and he hadn't thought of it until just now? He decided that it didn't matter. He'd figured it out, and he hadn't even needed Maddie to double-check anything for him. He held up both machines in triumph, nearly knocking the spirit-smasher off the side of the work-table, and ran upstairs. "Maddie - Maddie, I figured it out!" Maddie started, blinking a few times in confusion. "Jack? What's - ?" "I got it!" he beamed, "I finally figured it out! Ghost malware!" "Ghost malware," Maddie echoed, not really believing it but relieved that at least Jack had solved his little problem, "I'm sure you can tell me all about it in the morning - " "I'm sure I can tell you all about it right now!" Jack interrupted, oblivious to the fact that it was just after ten, and also oblivious to the fact that his son had just disappeared out the window for the nightly patrols.

Jack couldn't believe it. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and the infuriating blips had returned. He'd thought, at first, that the malware ghost was just persistent, but a second dose of Fenton Creep Cleanser had been all but ineffective. He'd hit it again, in case it was just unresponsive the first time, but had spiraled immediately back down into obsession. It had been working just fine last night - he'd even showed it to Maddie and everything! - what could possibly have happened between then and now that could cause it to malfunction again? He muttered to himself as he tore the thing apart yet again. He'd been in a foul mood since he'd discovered the interference, and had half a mind to go upstairs and track down the source for himself. Clearly, the thing was picking up something it wasn't supposed to be. Maybe I'll just find whatever it is and get rid of it, he thought to himself. He was, sometimes, a great fan of getting rid of things. Finally, he decided that was what he was going to do. He stomped upstairs, ghost-gazer in hand, and paused outside Danny's room. The door was very clearly marked Keep Out and Space Stuff Only! with hand-drawn posters; a tertiary sign hung under the rest: The Astronaut is *in* which could also be flipped to The Astronaut is *out* in case Danny wasn't home. Currently, he was in. "Danny?" Jack opened the door and poked his head inside. Danny scrambled, quickly shoving a handful of loose papers into his backpack. "Dad? What do you want? Ever heard of knocking?" "Well, I wanted to ask you something, actually," said Jack, completely ignoring Danny's sarcasm. He let himself in (Danny groaned with a thick cover of distaste) and turned his gaze downward to the ghost-gazer. "Son," he said, "I think there's something in here that's making all the sensors downstairs go screwy." "Didn't we have this conversation like two weeks ago when you built the thing in the first place?" Danny crossed his arms, "Remember how you said it must be broken?" Jack frowned. "Well, I did say that. Then I ran a bunch of tests, and took it apart, and hit it with three doses of Fenton Creep Cleanser. I'm starting to think that there isn't anything wrong with it." Danny hesitated. "Wait, where are you going with this - ?" "Well, where I'm going is apparently up here," Jack said, still a bit puzzled, "If there's something up here that's causing the interference, I want to get rid of it." Danny sucked in his breath. "Dad," he said finally, after careful consideration of the best way to phrase this, "Get out." "But - !" "Out!" Danny snapped, "You really wanna go through all my stuff and probably break half of it until you find whatever it is that you think is making your stupid machine broken? I guarantee you're not gonna like it! Now get out of my room!" Jack was silent. He knew that he and Danny had had a little bit of a rough patch lately, but somehow he hadn't expected him to be so hostile. He turned his eyes sheepishly downwards. "Well, if that's how you feel about it - then I guess I'll go back downstairs and make another stupid broken machine." He turned, without another word, and went back to the lab. He wanted to toss the thing and start over. Maddie had been right. Maybe it was beyond fixing. He wished that Danny hadn't been so aggressive, though - he thought he'd made it up to him after that time he'd almost gotten him with the Fenton Ghost Blaster - come to think of it, that one was probably malfunctioning, too. He remembered it had been during a ghost drill at home - he and Maddie had run through their basic routine, and he'd found what he'd thought was an actual ghost in the house's readings. He'd shot first and thought later, and he realized he'd put a hole in Danny's floor. Despite the fact that he'd had it fixed, and put a rug over it to hide the discolored floorboards, he had a feeling that he still hadn't been forgiven for it. He was beginning to think that maybe he hadn't made it up to him after all. He'd say he would, but then something else would happen that would put him back at square one. He'd always thought of himself as fun-loving, and only a bit clumsy, but he was beginning to realize that, perhaps, Maddie was the only one who forgave him. Jazzypants did, at least sometimes. Other times she'd go entirely off the rails, and he wouldn't know whether she would or not until it happened. Maddie, on the other hand, could always predict how she'd react. She'd never been wrong, either - at least, not that he could remember. He wondered if he was even still redeemable. He loved the kids - with all his heart, and he'd say it as often as he felt like! - but somehow he still felt inadequate. Loving them wasn't enough, if he got in the way as much as he did. Was there a way to fix it? Could he come to be more careful? He'd sometimes think that he could, and usually right after that he'd get carried away with something, and probably put a hole in something else. Maybe he wasn't any good. Maybe he had failed them already, and it was too late to take anything back. The blip had moved. He didn't realize it at first, since he'd come this close to scrapping it for parts, but he paused. Had it really - oh, yes, it most definitely had moved. Jack frowned. Whatever kind of interference it was - it was in the kitchen now, and he knew better than to wait for it to relocate. Danny was upstairs, so he wouldn't be bothered about it. Maybe this thing would quit bugging him for real this time. Or maybe Danny was right, and it really was irreparable. Jack ran upstairs, following the blip on the ghost-gazer's screen. He thundered up to the kitchen, but froze up at once. The fridge was hanging open; halfway inside the thing stood Danny. He had at least a dozen assorted snacks stacked precariously in one arm, the corners of three frozen waffles sticking out of his mouth, and two entire jars of peanut butter in the other hand. Seeing Jack he froze, like a raccoon caught going through someone's trash, and frowned. Through the waffles in his mouth: "Whaffoo want?" Jack paused, but then deflated. "Oh, nothing. I just thought - maybe this thing wasn't as broken as I said it was. I guess it is." Danny said nothing but rolled his eyes to convey his displeasure. He kicked the fridge closed behind him, grabbed the jelly and bread he'd left out on the counter, turned, and skulked upstairs. Jack watched him go. He knew he had to make it up to Danny, at the very least - if he kept bumbling things away like he'd been doing, he'd never be able to break even. That said, Danny wasn't making this easy for him. He sat back at the kitchen table again; the ghost-gazer's mysterious blip had returned to its normal spot upstairs. Jack nearly broke the thing in half then and there, if just to be rid of it. Upstairs, downstairs, the thing's clearly useless! Almost as useless as me, he thought dismally. At least a machine could be scrapped. Every try scrapping a person? Can't do it. Too gross and messy. For the first time that day, a new idea occurred to Jack Fenton. The idea was this: what if it really was picking up an ecto-signature? What if it wasn't just interference from something, but an actual, bonafide ghost? His mind turned slowly - which was the only way it really knew how to turn - but steadily, and he thought about it. If there really was a ghost loose in the house - it would have been spending an awful lot of time in Danny's room. That meant Danny was in danger - or, perhaps, he was the one that knew about it. Had Jack Fenton's son become a ghost smuggler? What if it wasn't just one ghost, but a whole lot of them? What would a kid like Danny be doing smuggling ghosts, anyway? Was that why he'd become so secluded? Well, it was either that or because he was a teenager. Maybe both. Yeah, Jack thought, probably both. Now, what was he going to do about it? The thought still wasn't sitting right in his mind - Danny Fenton, ghost smuggler. Jack frowned. If he hadn't made a mess of anything already that day, he'd have considered just going upstairs and confronting him about it. But, said the small part of Jack Fenton's mind that was capable of thinking ahead, what if you're wrong? What if you're wrong, and he doesn't forgive you this time? This made Jack pause, and was the reason that he and Danny didn't speak to each other for the rest of the night.

It was after lunch when Jack noticed that the blip had gone. This time, he wasn't quite so surprised, and his ghost-smuggler theory from the previous afternoon came back to him. If Maddie had been home, he'd have asked her what she'd thought about it, but she and Jazzypants had disappeared for the afternoon, and wouldn't be back until later. He remembered this only because Maddie had told him she'd pick up supplies for Fenton steaks on her way home, and they'd have them for dinner tomorrow. So Jack Fenton had the house to himself until Danny got home later. He knew he really should talk to Danny about it - he'd swear up and down not to tell Maddie if he thought it would make Danny even a bit less bristly, but he knew he had to have more cards in his hand in order to get Danny to open up to him. Now that he was thinking about it, though - all those times when he'd almost hit Danny with this, or blown a hole in that, or lit all those on fire - it had been because Danny had registered on the ecto-scanners. Was he even keeping ghosts hidden around in his room, or had the ghost-gazer been locked on him instead? He did spend an awful lot of time up there, Jack realized. Was he keeping ghosts upon his person? At all times? Was he being controlled by one? By several? Did he need saving? Had he figured out how to control them instead? Did he have ghost bodyguards? Was that even a thing that could happen? Jack Fenton didn't know. All he knew was that he would have to have a serious talk with Danny about it the second he got home, before he'd inevitably disappear back into his room. Danny, he'd say, I have to ask you something very serious. Be honest with your dad. Are you falling in with gangs of ghosts? No, he realized, that was stupid. Maybe it'd be, are you being controlled by ghosts? No, that was stupid too - the ghosts controlling him would just make him say that he wasn't, and that would get him nowhere. Jack thought very hard about it, and finally came up with a solution. He'd have to get the jump on them somehow - and without Danny finding out, either. He'd have to make sure that absolutely no one except for him - Jack Fenton - knew what was going on.

Danny had had a long day. Dash had picked on him almost nonstop; he was certain he'd just flunked his algebra test; he'd overheard some things during lunch that were definitely about him, and it mattered less whether or not they were true than whether they were really embarrassing; he'd been whacked upside the head by at least two hackysacks that he had a suspicion weren't filled with bean pellets but rocks; on top of everything, he was exhausted because he'd had almost zero sleep the previous night. At least he didn't have anything planned for tonight, he thought to himself as he trudged up the street to his house. Sam and Tucker were still with him, but he'd tuned them out long ago. Neither of them seemed to mind - they'd just turned to chatting with each other instead - and he was glad for it. Maybe he'd get caught up on sleep tonight, he hoped. He paused on the steps, turning back to Sam and Tucker. "I'll catch you guys later, okay?" "Yeah, dude," said Tucker, "You've been super drained all day. Get some sleep, man. We'll catch you in the morning." Danny sighed. "Thanks, Tuck. You guys are the best." He watched them head further down the street toward Sam's house. The dull thumping from where the second hackysack had hit him was finally starting to calm down - maybe he'd be able to sleep on that side later, and with any luck he wouldn't bruise too badly. He'd think of a way to get even with Dash, too. He hadn't actually seen him throw either of the hackysacks, but he knew it had been because of him; whether he or one of his ridiculous football buddies threw them was irrelevant. Maybe Danny'd overshadow him and have him sprain his ankle or something. Nothing broken - just enough to keep him off the team for a couple of weeks. Besides, he thought, surely one sprained ankle was worth the same as two enormous bruising welts? It'd probably hurt the same. He knew he really shouldn't, though. If even Sam or Tucker found out it was him, they'd both probably be unhappy about it. He thought, somewhat sourly, that they might be on his side if they ever got whacked with a hackysack full of rocks. Oh, well. A kid could dream, right? The front door to FentonWorks was unlocked, and Danny let himself in. The living room was empty, which meant that his mother wasn't home. He remembered, vaguely, that she'd told him she and Jazz would be out for the afternoon. Great, he thought, maybe I can get some friggin' sleep. He dropped his backpack by the door; whatever homework he had could wait until tomorrow, and he contemplated whether or not he should even eat before going upstairs. Usually, he did; sustaining a human, especially a growing one, was difficult. Sustaining a growing human and a ghost? Near-impossible. He remembered yesterday, when Jack had caught him raiding the fridge. He'd gone through everything he'd taken upstairs - how many PB&Js even was that, anyhow? - and by the following morning he'd been hungry again. At least he didn't have any of the weird cravings. He supposed it could be worse. What did regular ghosts eat, he wondered. Whatever it was, it must have had the same nutritional value as human food, or at least one that was very similar. Screw it. He'd raid the fridge again. The good thing about having someone like Jack Fenton for a father was that most of the things that went missing would be blamed on him, and most of the times he didn't remember anything specific enough to dispute it. Between him and Danny, groceries were lucky to last more than a day or two. He had an entire cantaloupe tucked under his arm when he spotted his father across the kitchen. Instantly, he was on-edge. He turned. "Dad," he said, as neutrally as he could manage. He hadn't forgotten what had happened the previous afternoon, and he wasn't about to forgive it right away either. Jack Fenton stepped forward. "Son," he said in turn. He almost forgot what came after that - you practiced it and everything! - but at the last second before it became awkward he remembered. "Son, I have something to show you. It's downstairs." Danny paused. Something didn't quite feel right, but he couldn't place why. He gave his father a suspicious glance, but then asked, mostly so that it wouldn't be silent: "Is it about ghosts?" "Actually, yes," said Jack, straightening somewhat, "I'd really like for you to see it." "Pass," said Danny, deciding that the cantaloupe would have to do for now and swinging the fridge shut. He wasn't entirely certain what Jack might have been up to - but if it had something to do with ghosts, Danny didn't want any part of it. He turned, the fruit still tucked under one arm, and headed up the stairs. "Danny, wait!" Jack exclaimed, taking a half-step after him. "It's about ghosts - and it's about you." Danny froze partway up the stairs. His grip on the cantaloupe tightened as his hands instinctively wanted to curl up into fists. He could feel his face turn white. His mouth ran dry. Where in the hell did that just come from? Slowly, he turned and gave his father a wide-eyed stare. "What?" Jack stood at the landing, one hand on the banister. "Danny, I want to talk to you. It's very important." Danny's voice was quiet. "Why?" "Because," said Jack, "Because your mother and your sister aren't home. It's just the two of us. We could have a father-to-son chat." "Is it about yesterday?" Danny asked slowly, suddenly aware of any missteps he might make. Somehow, Jack seemed off. Maybe it was because he was never this quiet; maybe it was because he was never this serious. That was it, Danny realized. Jack nodded. "Yes, that's right." "I don't want to talk about it," said Danny. He really didn't. It was beyond having to listen to whatever inane thing Jack might ramble on about; he realized he was actually dreading this conversation, not in the way that it might be about having to listen to him talk about ghosts but in the way that it might be about his grades, or about the fact that he'd been sneaking out of his room at night, or about the thermos that had mysteriously disappeared from the lab the other day after he'd misplaced his usual one. Jack blinked. "Danny," he said finally, "I need to ask you something. If it wasn't important, I'd be talking to myself about it. Come down to the lab with me." Danny hesitated. His gut told him everything about this was wrong; what could he have possibly said that would have tipped Jack off to anything? Nothing immediately came to mind, and that somehow made it worse. Unable to stand it, he found himself nodding anyway. He set the cantaloupe down at the top of the steps, and followed Jack down through the kitchen. The closer he got to the lab, the more the lump in his stomach hardened. Whatever this was about - he knew it wasn't going to be good. Part of him just said to turn and go up to his room, but he squashed it down. Jack held the door for him, and followed him down to the lab. It was almost completely empty; all of the work-tables had been cleared off, spare boxes of parts and components had been sorted and put away, and even the locked case of Fenton weapons had been relocated to a high shelf. Danny felt small. "Dad. What's this about? What did you want to ask me - and how come it has to be down here?" "Well, son," said Jack, "It's because it's about ghosts. I've been hunting ghosts for most of my life, you know. I can tell when they're near. I can smell 'em." Danny took a step back, heart pounding. "Dad - where are you going with this?" "Where I'm going," said Jack, "is I know there's ghosts around whenever you're around. I figured out what's been causing that interference in the ghost-gazer." Danny's mind raced. "What? I thought - I thought it was broken - you said it was - " "Well, maybe I was wrong," said Jack. His gaze dropped from Danny's, and focused instead on the black boots of his jumpsuit. "I think I've been wrong about a lot of things, Danny - but, no matter what happens, know one thing. You're my son, and I love you." He met Danny's eyes again. "No matter what." "Wait," said Danny, his eyes darting for a split second to the stairs behind Jack. Even if he was quick, he knew he wouldn't be able to make a run for it. "What do you mean no matter what?" Jack just nodded once. "No matter what. Now, there's something I have to ask you. I know you might want to lie about it, but please don't." "What? Why would I - ?" He knew very well why he would. "I think it's because you didn't trust me," said Jack, "That hurts - but I need you to be completely and entirely honest. Promise me you can do that." Danny was silent. Jack took a deep breath. "Danny - I found out you've been causing the interference with the ghost-gazer, and a fair amount of the other equipment as well. I need to know why." "Why?" Danny echoed. He kept his hands behind his back so that Jack wouldn't see them shaking. "Well, I - " Jack's face was serious. "Is it because you're a ghost, Danny?" Danny's heart skipped a beat. "What? Why would I be - ?" "Son, please," said Jack, "I need you to be honest. It's very important." Danny could barely breathe. He tore his eyes from Jack's, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. He could feel his face reddening. He couldn't stand it. Finally, hanging his head, he buckled. "Yeah. I can be." "And that's the honest truth?" Danny nodded. It took all he had to keep from tears. He'd had nightmares about a confrontation like this for months after the incident - now here he stood, heartbeat slamming in his ears, red-eyed and shaking. There was a long pause. Jack knelt down in an effort to level his massive frame with Danny. He set one hand on Danny's shoulder. "Do you know what this means?" Danny didn't. "It means I was right!" Jack cried, the serious expression dissolving immediately into a triumphant grin. "Me! Jack Fenton! It means that ghost-gazer isn't broken! Ha! I'm a genius! Take a look at this!" He grabbed the ghost-gazer off the work-table and shoved into Danny's hands. "That's how I figured it out, you know! I thought it was malfunctioning at first! But then I got to thinking, and - " Danny stared down at the thing in his hands, but it hardly registered. He turned a second later back up at Jack, still very much upset but now also confused. "You're not mad? But - I kept hiding it - Dad, I'm a ghost - !" "Ghost, shmost!" Jack exclaimed, throwing both hands up in the air, "You're a Fenton! You think I hate ghosts more than I love my own son? C'mere!" He pulled Danny into a massive two-armed hug, now beaming. "I'm proud of you, Danny, and I always will be!" The lump in Danny's stomach was slowly beginning to melt away. Telling him had been awful - but the blind acceptance was reassuring. He returned his father's hug, taking a deep breath. "Look - I know I probably should have told you and Mom about it, but - " "Are you kidding?" said Jack, "With all the stuff we've designed specifically to obliterate ghosts? No wonder you kept your mouth shut! I would have too, if I were you! But you know what?" "What?" "It means now I'm the one that gets to listen to you yammer on about ghosts! You're a certified expert now! Just think about it - a boy who's a ghost, living with a family of ghost hunters! How's that for irony!" Danny couldn't help but smile a little. "Well, half-ghost, actually - " "Half?" Jack asked. "Yeah." Jack frowned, and the more he thought about it the more his eyebrows tried to meet in the center of his forehead. "How can you be half?" "Dad," said Danny, "Sit down for a sec. This is gonna blow your mind." Jack did. Danny set the ghost-gazer down, and transformed. He still hesitated out of instinct, but reminded himself that it didn't matter anymore. He watched Jack's eyes widen, and took a little bit of satisfaction in it; he turned himself about once so that Jack could get a decent up-close look at him. "Half. I can go back and forth." "That's awesome!" Jack cried, jumping back up to his feet again, "I bet you're the one that keeps setting off all the stuff down here too! Look at me go! I'm figuring out all sorts of things today!" Danny nodded. "Yeah, and I'm the one that borrowed the spare thermos last week - " "Hey, I was wondering where that thing went," said Jack, "Wait, does that mean you've been going out and hunting ghosts? Even after you always told us you never wanted to do that ever at all in your life?" "Dad," Danny cringed, "Please don't make this lame - " "Ghost hunting isn't lame, son!" Jack declared, giving Danny a hearty slap on the back and making him stagger forward, "I've never been more proud of you in my life! You're the best son a dad could hope for! Just wait 'til I tell your mother!" Danny sucked in his breath. "Well, I - " "Well, what?" said Jack, turning down to him. "I'm not actually sure if I want her to know just yet," said Danny carefully. Between his parents, his mother was usually the one to take things more seriously, and just because Jack was excited didn't mean that Maddie would be. "Well!" said Jack brightly, throwing an arm around Danny's shoulders, "I won't tell her if you won't! We'll keep this between just us two!" "Dad. Sam and Tucker know about this too. They were there when it happened. Also I think Jazz might have figured it out, but she hasn't said anything to me about it yet. That's mostly why I have them over so much. It's all ghost stuff." "That's gotta be a lot of ghost stuff!" said Jack, "I'm gonna go grab us some snacks, and we're gonna lock Maddie and Jazzypants out of the basement for the next ten hours, and you're gonna ramble on about all the stuff I don't know about ghosts!" Danny thought that was alright. He was still a little surprised that his father had been the one to figure this out - but he'd taken it almost in stride. Well, as much of a stride in anything as you have when you're my dad. But at least I don't have to keep hiding this from him, and he seems pretty happy. I guess I'm pretty happy about it too. He said he was proud of me.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #team ghost

197 notes · View notes

mr-lancers-english-class · 5 years

Text

The Car

My first Phic Phight entry. I meant to get this up last week for the dannypocalypse, but I have another cold and a surprising amount of homework for the last months of senior year.

Prompt by @ecto-american: Vlad buys Danny a car for his 16th birthday.

Ao3

“You got me a car.”

“Yes.”

“A car.”

“Yes, Daniel. That’s what I said.”

“For my birthday. A car.”

“Mostly. Some of it is for your last Deathday, as I never did get you anything then.”

“Why did you get me a car?!?”

The car in question was a deep red Porsche convertible: absolutely gorgeous, so new it seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sun, and completely impractical for a high school junior who had a tendency to get involved in explosive fights on a near-daily basis.

“As a gesture of good will.”

Danny snorted. As much as their relationship had improved in the last year, it was still a far cry from perfect. “It’s never just a gesture of good will from you. There’s something more here.”

“Is it really that difficult to accept that I might just care about you, Little Badger?”

“Yes. Very.”

“That’s fair.” Vlad sighed, and went to rub his forehead. “You want me to be honest with you?”

Danny nodded, eyes flitting to the car.

“I am concerned for your safety. The way your father drives, you may well die before you finish high school. I spent decades as the only being in the world like me, and I never wish to repeat that endeavour.”

“Anything else?” Danny had given up the pretense of not caring about the car, and was now staring at it.

“Surprisingly, no.”

“So, self-serving interest that, surprisingly enough, is selfless?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“Huh. Well, thank you. This is one of the nicest things you’ve done for me.”

“You’re welcome.” Vlad slowly brought his hand up, before placing it gently on Danny’s shoulder. “Happy birthday, Daniel.”

Word Count: 281

#dannypocalypse #danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19

201 notes · View notes

currentlylurking · 5 years

Photo

Hello everyone! If you’re like me, you’re acutely aware of the almost absurd amount of talent our little half-dead Phandom has. From the excellent musicians to the superb artists, the impressive cosplayers and fascinating memers, I’m constantly amazed by just how much skill so many of the phans have.

Of course, let’s not forget my personal group; the fanfiction authors. There’s so many absolutely amazing concept creators and authors amongst us, so I thought, ‘why don’t we make them fight?’ After all, what brings people closer than a fight club?

Nah, I’m kidding. Mostly.

What is Phic Phight?

Phic Phight is an event for Danny Phantom Fanfiction authors that is loosely inspired by Art Fight. In Art Fight, the participants are split into two teams, and score points for their team by drawing the opposing team’s OCs! We’ll be doing something similar.

Every participant will be able to create up to four prompts based on their fics or fic ideas and will be randomly assigned to either Team Human or Team Ghost. Team Ghost will have access to the prompts the members of Team Human wrote, and Team Human will have the same with Team Ghost’s prompts! You’ll get points with each fic you write, and whichever team has the most points at the end of the month wins!

When is Phic Phight?

Officially, Phic Phight will be from April 1st - 30th, 2019. You have until 11:59 pm PST on March 24 to join. After that, I’ll be in contact with everyone who’s joined with more information on their team, the prompts they’ll be working with, and the final decision on prizes.

How do we get points?

For every 10 words you write of a prompt, you’ll get 1 point. For every Phic you complete, you’ll be granted an additional 5 points.

We’ll be keeping track of which prompts have had the most Phics, who’s written the most, and which team gets the most points!

What should our prompts look like?

Your prompts should be a short, 1-2 sentence summary of one of your fics or fic concepts. You will be required to submit at least two, but can do up to four if you’d like.

Don’t worry about duplicates of ideas, but please be sure to include any ships or trigger warnings that apply at the end of your summary. AUs are fine as long as they are widely known, such as the Reverse Trio AU, a coffee shop AU, or an electric core Danny AU.

Due to the controversy surrounded them, prompts where a minor and adult are shipped together are not permitted in this event. Prompts that crossover with another fandom, have a heavy focus on original characters, or AU prompts that rely on intense worldbuilding known only to the author that cannot be simplified to fit the summary limit are also not permitted. If there is a problem with one of your prompts, I’ll let you know and give you a chance to alter it.

I have another question!

We have an FAQ, where I give some more in-depth explanations about the specifics of this event in addition to example prompts. If you’re still confused, feel free to ask me! ^-^

I like it! How do I join?

Fill out this form HERE. I’ll be in contact after the 24th with more information!

We have our own channel on the DP Fanfiction Palace Discord, which you can access by requesting the Phic Phighter role after you join! If you’d like easy quick and easy access to any updates, this is the place to be! The link to it is right HERE!

Have a great day, everyone, and I hope to see you in the Phic Phight! <3

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight #Phic Phight 19 #The PP we all deserve #let me know if the links don't work! I tried my best but yknow. tumblr.#currently talking #I'm really excited for this!! I love the fic writer's discord and it's helpful inhabitants #Special Thanks to Chesire-Kas for the graphic and Ibelieveinahappilyeverafter for making the faq more professional

302 notes · View notes

ladylynse · 5 years

Text

I didn’t think I’d have time to write anything else for the Phic Phight, but there was a reveal prompt, and I love reveals....

Prompt by @duckapus: Reveal- Jack starts to question why ghost hunting equipment malfunctions around Danny. Exclusively around Danny. [FF | AO3]

Jack hadn’t questioned it at first. Not more than usual, anyway. Most of his inventions were prototypes, constantly undergoing revisions as preliminary testing revealed potential improvements. He expected problems. Bugs. That was normal.

But somehow, none of those potential improvements ever dealt with a problem he’d had from the beginning: the way all his ghost hunting equipment malfunctioned around Danny.

Exclusively around Danny.

The first time he’d mentioned it to Maddie, the first time he’d really noticed it, she’d simply told him to double check that he had everything in the proper order—no wires crossed, no incorrect balance of internal chemicals, no improperly calibrated sensors, that sort of thing.

The second time he brought it up, she’d suggested ecto-contamination. Danny hadn’t worn his HAZMAT suit in years—they didn’t even know where it was anymore—and Jazz would at least don one of Maddie’s when she thought the situation was desperate enough to warrant it.

But no amount of tweaking had helped, and Danny had started spending as little time in the lab as possible. He shouldn’t have built up enough contamination to be so consistently pinpointed by their weapons—especially when those weapons had no trouble differentiating between their samples of ectoplasm and a semi-sentient ghost blob.

Jack hadn’t bothered bringing it up a third time to Maddie. She was busy, and while this was important, he knew she hadn’t forgotten about it. He suspected that she was looking into it on her own time. He’d decided it was best if he did the same. For Danny’s sake. If they couldn’t solve this problem by putting their heads together, maybe they’d get further if they went at it separately for a while, coming at it from different angles instead of convincing each other of a promising but ultimately wrong viewpoint. As long as they solved the problem in the end, it wouldn’t matter how they got there.

Really, it was a safety issue at this point. Their weapons wouldn’t do any lasting harm to humans if handled properly, but accidents happened, and a blast from an ecto-gun was still a blast from an ecto-gun. It would still hurt, at least in the moment, and a sustained blast would burn.

And, honestly, the fear of one of their weapons accidentally locking on to Danny kept Jack from developing things he was interested in, like missiles keyed to the particular ecto-signatures of ghosts which repeatedly attacked Amity Park. He knew it was possible. He already had the technology in the Fenton Booo-merang. Adding it to an explosive that would go off on contact wouldn’t be terribly difficult.

But he hadn’t yet solved the problem of why the Booo-merang was attracted to Danny, and he’d rather not send explosives meant for ghosts after his son.

It was the Booo-merang that Jack had in pieces in front of him again. The kids were at school and Maddie was out most of the day running errands, so he’d moved from the lab to the kitchen table. Interference from their samples in the lab shouldn’t be a problem, but he’d run out of ideas when it came to what actually could be the problem, so he was trying very hard not to rule anything out, however unlikely.

Unfortunately, the Booo-merang had been built exactly as it should have been. By this point, it had been rebuilt—with both old parts and new—no fewer than six times. He’d done the math again. Had Maddie do the math again. Their calculations weren’t wrong.

He could get the Booo-merang to home in on different ecto-samples, could successfully switch between them, but he had a sinking feeling that the moment he set it to seek out the strongest ghost within range, it would find its way back to Danny again.

Like it always had before.

Jack hadn’t had any success correcting the Fenton Finder, either. It would point to Danny. No matter what he did to it. It would still register other ghosts, however weak, but Danny’s blip invariably showed up stronger than all of them. If the reason for all this had been ecto-contamination—somehow—Danny’s dot shouldn’t be displayed as brightly, not now that Jack had revamped the interface so that the brightest dots represented the strongest ghosts. He’d meant for it to be a way to find the likely leader or the strongest opponent, should they face multiple ghosts at once, but he wasn’t convinced his efforts had paid off. If the Fenton Finder persisted in finding Danny, he should have been barely there.

It never should have marked him as the greatest threat.

The Ghost Gabber was no different. No matter what Jack did to it, it would always ‘translate’ Danny’s words. He’d adjusted its sensitivity to the point that it wouldn’t even register the incoherent garbles of an ectopus, but the moment Danny said something….

Jack sighed, pushed the dismantled mechanics away, and stood to get some water. He was missing something fundamental, something dreadfully important, however small or basic it seemed. The reaction was consistent. Repeatable. As far as his equipment was concerned, there was no mistake. If it reliably sought out Danny, there must be some reason for it.

Trouble was, since it didn’t seem to be a flaw in the equipment, and earlier trials had shown that it wasn’t an oddly high level of ecto-contamination, Jack had no idea what that reason could be. Really, Jack had doused himself in ectoplasm by mistake once and hadn’t even registered as a blip on the Fenton Finder. It knew the difference between the activated ectoplasm ghosts controlled and the ectoplasmic remnants those ghosts left behind.

It would be different if it weren’t only Danny, if it weren’t always Danny, or even if it weren’t every invention.

After all, experiments with repeatable results were more likely to be true. Particularly when the conditions of the experiment varied. When the environment changed. When the parameters were tweaked. Jack’s inventions always pointed to the same thing, no matter the circumstances.

But the result had to be wrong. Danny wasn’t a ghost. How many times had he jumped to that conclusion with Jazz and it had turned out to be nothing? Maddie would have his hide if he kept doing that, and Jazz would give him another lecture about how he was ruining Danny’s childhood, and he only wanted what was best for his family.

But if his inventions weren’t wrong, and if Danny wasn’t a ghost, what was left?

Jack drained his glass of water and made up his mind. He scooped the pieces of the Booo-merang into a box, cleaned the grease-stained newspaper off the table, and dropped the box off in the lab. He’d reassemble the Booo-merang later. Right now, he wanted to go for a walk. To clear his head. And maybe to get some answers.

Maddie had the GAV, but that was just as well. It was harder to sneak up on a ghost in that, even if they were easier to chase when he wasn’t on foot. Still, for what he wanted, the Fenton Finder would do the trick.

Jack checked the weapons supply in his suit one last time before heading out the door, Fenton Finder in hand. There were no ghosts nearby, so he fiddled with the settings and expanded its range. It was less precise the farther it stretched, but it was easy enough to shrink the range and increase its accuracy as he got closer to a ghost.

Following the Fenton Finder’s instructions to a pair of ghosts was easy enough, and Jack wasn’t entirely surprised to find himself spitting distance from Casper High. He caught the tail end of Phantom’s fight with Technus, and while the ghost was gloating to himself over capturing the technology ghost, Jack fired a net-gun at him.

Phantom squawked and tucked to protect the thermos as he dropped. Jack approached cautiously, not remotely surprised by the suspicion in Phantom’s eyes—or by the slight coating of ice that was forming over the net. He’d seen Phantom pull that trick before.

Jack held up the net-gun and an ecto-gun and very visibly put them on the ground where Phantom could see them. “I didn’t come here to fight,” he said. “I just want to talk, and I needed to make sure you stayed here long enough for me to ask if you will.”

Phantom frowned. “Release me, then.”

The net was now completely coated in a thin layer of ice. Phantom could get free on his own with one good ectoblast, but Jack took the offering for what it was and untangled the net. Phantom floated up to his eye level but didn’t leave—or release his hold on his stolen Fenton Thermos. Jack wasn’t overly happy about Phantom’s theft, but it was good advertising for FentonWorks, so he’d long ago decided to let it slide as long as Phantom stopped stealing from them. (The Fenton Ecto-Skeleton might have been used well by Phantom, but he’d also destroyed it, and Jack was only willing to lose so many prototypes.)

“What do you want?” Phantom asked. He was watching Jack’s hands as much as his face, and Jack wondered if Phantom knew he hadn’t surrendered all his weapons.

Jack opened his mouth and found himself hesitating. He knew what he wanted to ask, more or less, but he wasn’t sure how to ask it in a way that made sense—much less in a way that made sense to a ghost. It was just as well that he’d found Phantom. Of all the ghosts that plagued this town, Phantom was the one who was most likely to give him something approximating an honest answer. Jack wasn’t sure what he’d have to promise in return, but the ghost wasn’t above cutting deals—and he tended to honour them, as far as Jack had seen.

“Do you just want to meet me later?” Phantom offered. “I’ve, uh, got someplace I should really be getting back to, and—”

“You know my kids, right?” The question had tumbled from Jack’s mouth without his permission, but at least it was a starting point.

Phantom blinked at him and looked slightly uncomfortable. “Um. Yeah? Jazz and Danny, right? They both go to Casper High. I’m, ah, there a lot. As you can tell.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the school.

Jack nodded. “Yes. They’re often targeted, being our kids.”

“Right.” Phantom nodded, though Jack had no idea if he actually agreed or if he was merely trying to keep Jack happy. “That makes sense.”

“And Maddie and I know they support you,” Jack said slowly, “despite everything we’ve taught them.”

Phantom winced. “I swear I’m not brainwashing them or anything like that,” he muttered. “They just know that not all ghosts are evil.”

“Not all ghosts believe they are evil,” corrected Jack. Phantom’s frown deepened, but he held his tongue this time. “In fact, few truly accept that they are. They’re so caught up in their own beliefs and perceptions of the world that they can’t see how horrible their actions truly are.”

“Right.” Phantom’s voice was flat now, as if he remembered enough of what his life had once been to approximate human emotions. “I promise not to attack your kids. Was that all you wanted to talk about? I can go without you shooting me in the back again?”

“No, I…I want to make you a deal.”

Phantom’s eyebrows shot up. “A deal? After saying that? You just told me you think I’m evil but I can’t recognize my own evilness! What kind of deal do you want to make with someone you think is evil?”

It wasn’t worth correcting Phantom now. He wasn’t in the mood to argue over semantics, and he had never been very good at that, anyway. “I’ll replace that battered Fenton Thermos of yours if you help me with a problem I have.”

Phantom crossed his arms. “How about promising that you won’t keep trying to catch me and tear me apart molecule by molecule?”

He wasn’t jumping at the chance to replace his Fenton weaponry, so either he was comfortable with breaking into their place or Maddie’s suspicions were correct and one or both kids was helping him.

And if the kids were helping him, it was even more likely he’d know the answer to Jack’s question.

“You’d have to help me with more than one thing before I’d agree to that,” Jack said dryly. “I can appreciate your twisted sense of self-preservation, Phantom, but sometimes sacrifices must be made for science.”

Phantom glowered at him. “You’re just making me want to help you way less. You know that, right? My sense of self-preservation isn’t twisted, especially when you’re a ghost hunter. I’m willing to work with you guys on keeping this town safe, but only if we call a truce. I don’t want you to shoot me the moment the opportunity arises.”

He wasn’t going to make any wild promises without consulting Maddie. If they were going to strike up any sort of long-term alliance with Phantom, her input would be invaluable. She was a better negotiator than he. Besides, at this point, he didn’t trust the ghost enough. Trust had to be earned. He knew it went both ways, but Phantom was never defenseless unless they managed to suppress his powers—and he could disarm them more easily than they could do that. “I can give you one week. If you can help me. Beyond that, I’d have to discuss it with my wife.”

To Jack’s surprise, Phantom smiled. “Really?” There was something…hopeful in his voice. “Okay, yeah. I’ll help you if you don’t hunt me for a week. What’s this thing you need help with? Do you want a tour guide for the Ghost Zone?”

The idea wasn’t a terrible one. He’d have to bring it up with Maddie later, maybe when he broke the news that they couldn’t hunt Phantom for a full seven days. He was sure she’d understand once he explained that this was for Danny. She knew how much he was willing to sacrifice for their family. “No. I need to know why my inventions target you.”

Phantom’s smile fell off his face. “What?”

“What exactly is it about you that my inventions find? Why do they work?”

“You…. Why are you asking me that? How should I know? You invented them!”

“My science isn’t perfect.” Jack hated to admit it, hated to admit folly or fault to a ghost. “Until we can break a ghost down to its components, until we can figure out what triggers its cohesion or the composition of its ecto-signature, we’re guessing.”

“And you think I can tell you all that? I’m not a scientist! Go talk to Plasmius.”

Jack frowned. He didn’t like the Wisconsin Ghost, not after he had tried to attack Jack’s family. “I trust him less than I trust you.”

“Yeah, but he knows more about all of that stuff than I do. I’ve never studied it. I can’t tell you anything about that. I still don’t even understand how I exist like this, and he’s tried to explain it to me.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You died, Phantom. There are a number of reasons ghosts form—”

“That’s not what I— You know what? Never mind. If this is what you wanted help with, I can’t actually help you. So why don’t you just let me go this once, and we can go back to normal next time you see me? I should really be going anyway—”

“That’s not the only thing I need help with.”

Phantom sighed. “Are you sure? Because if it’s science-y, and it sounds like it probably will be, you’re better off talking to Plasmius. I mean, believe me, I hate that idea, and he’ll hate that idea, and I can’t guarantee he’ll help, but he’ll at least understand what you’re talking about. I don’t.”

“No.” Jack had known even before he set out that he wouldn’t ask help of Plasmius. Phantom, aggravating though he was, was preferable to Plasmius. He had never seen Phantom directly harm his family, and Plasmius had tried that right in front of him. “I…. This is about my son.”

Phantom froze. “Your…son?”

He looked scared now, which was interesting. Maybe it was Danny who was helping Phantom after all. Maybe Phantom was the reason all their weapons— But Phantom had no reason to lie to him about this when it would mean he wouldn’t have to worry about the town’s best ghost hunters tracking him down. Jack highly doubted he’d tell the whole truth, but if Phantom knew anything, however insignificant, he could have given it to them—even if he knew whatever he told them wouldn’t help.

“There’s something about Danny,” Jack admitted quietly, “that sets off our weapons. I can’t figure out what it is. Maddie can’t figure out what it is. Our weapons are designed for ghosts, not humans, but something that would destroy you could still hurt him.”

Phantom’s eyes were wide. “Comforting,” he squeaked. If it was an attempt at humour, Phantom had no idea of his ill timing. Then again, Jack wouldn’t expect anything else from a ghost.

“This is serious, Phantom. My son’s life is in danger. If something goes wrong with one of our inventions…. Accidents happen, but I want to prevent the ones I can. And finding out why our weapons target him and stopping it will go a long way toward that.”

Phantom stared at the ground and said nothing.

“Help me figure this out. If we’re successful, Maddie and I will discuss the possibility of a long-term truce.”

“I…I don’t think….”

“Please.” It was easier to get the word past his lips than he’d expected. “Please. For my son. You claim to be a hero, to want to protect this town, don’t you? Help me protect my Danny-boy.”

“I’m going to regret this,” Phantom muttered. Louder, he said, “This involves Danny. You should talk to him, too. I’ll, um, come by sometime after school—or at this rate, detention—is over.”

Jack frowned. “Why not help me now? Then, whenever Danny gets home, we’ll be ready for him.” He was tempted to ask why Phantom thought Danny might get detention when he hadn’t all week, but Jack was unfortunately aware that Danny got detention as often as he didn’t, if not more. He shouldn’t condemn the ghost for acknowledging that fact, not when he needed Phantom’s help. Not when he was asking for Phantom’s help.

Phantom gave him a goofy grin. “Because I have someplace to be right now. And you have to tell Maddie she can’t shoot me when I show up.” He offered a mock salute and vanished.

Jack didn’t know if he’d done the right thing. Alliances with ghosts made him…uneasy. Even when they were for his family. Even with a ghost like Phantom, who thought himself good. There was never a guarantee with ghosts, not in matters like this. Phantom could go back on his word. If this venture endangered his family….

He’d make sure it wouldn’t happen. He’d take every precaution he could. When Phantom came, he’d be ready.

And, hopefully, by the end of this, Danny would be safe.

XXXXX

Maddie looked over the lab and bit her lip. “I don’t like this,” she admitted. “Lowering our defenses risks the whole family, and—”

“—and it’s only for a week. We can be extra vigilant for a week,” Jack pointed out. “And if Phantom attacks us, then we get to tear him apart molecule by molecule!”

Maddie smiled. “You’re right. You agreed not to hunt him for a week, but if he attacks first, then it’s self-defence.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Good thinking, sweetums.”

She was still nervous. He could see that in every line of her body. She didn’t like this. But he’d trusted Phantom before, made a deal with Phantom before, and the ghost had kept his word. Jack wanted to believe he’d do so again. “This is for Danny,” he reminded her.

“I know. I’ll abide by your terms. For Danny.” She checked her watch. “I’ll make a fresh batch of cookies. If Phantom is going to be under our roof and unrestrained, we can at least learn what we can from him while he’s here.”

“Double the recipe?” Jack asked hopefully. He loved Maddie’s cookies—the entire family did—and if it turned out Phantom could and would eat, Jack wanted to make sure there were enough.

Maddie leaned closer and whispered, “I’m going to quadruple it,” before pulling back with a laugh. Halfway up the stairs, she added, “They never seem to last long enough anyway. Just don’t anger Phantom before we at least get that data!”

“I’ll do my best, sugar plum,” Jack promised, but Maddie was already back upstairs, and he was left waiting.

XXXXX

Danny came into the lab some time later—late enough that Jack knew he must have gotten detention for one reason or another—and he looked almost as nervous as Jack had ever seen him. “Your mom told you what we want to do, right, Danny-boy?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda. I got the gist from Phantom, too. After school. He’s, uh, gonna be late. The Box Ghost showed up again.”

“The Box Ghost doesn’t usually give him much trouble.”

“He, um, had a lot of boxes.”

Jack nodded slowly. He didn’t know if Phantom hadn’t told Danny the details or if he hadn’t been truthful about any of it, but it didn’t matter in the end. He wasn’t here now, and if he didn’t show up by the end of the day, then that meant he didn’t intend to uphold his end of the deal—and that Jack and Maddie had no reason to keep theirs.

Danny grabbed the rolling desk chair by the computer and sat down. “Do you need me for long? I have homework.”

Jack sighed and leaned against the examination table. “What I need, Danny-boy, is for you to tell me the truth.”

Danny stilled, the fingers drumming on his knee freezing mid-beat. He looked…wary. Tense. Scared. “What do you mean?” Now that Jack was listening and looking for it, he could hear the falsehood in his son’s voice, the forced nonchalance that was betrayed by his body. “What do I have to lie about?”

He was a teenager. Likely as not, he thought he had a lot to lie about, even though he was wrong about that. “Danny,” Jack said instead, “this is important. You need to realize that. Our weapons could still hurt you, and your mom and I don’t want that to happen. That’s why we’re doing this. But we can’t help you if we don’t understand what happened.”

“I never said anything happened!”

“It could have been something small,” Jack said, though he didn’t really believe that. Whatever it had been, the effects were significant. “Something that you didn’t notice right away. Just think. You’ve spent a lot of time in the lab over the years. Has anything unexpected ever happened?”

“No.” The response came quickly. Too quickly. “I mean, you guys take a lot of safety precautions.”

“Mads and I do,” acknowledged Jack, “but when was the last time you or Jazzy-pants wore a HAZMAT suit while you worked down here?”

Danny winced.

Jack just nodded. “Now, your mom and I don’t think this is just a case of contamination. Everything reacts so strongly to you, and the effect just seems to be getting worse over time.”

“Of course it does,” Danny muttered. He’d no doubt been hoping this entire mess would just go away on its own. Truthfully, Jack had, too, but he and Maddie had known better than to do nothing and wait in vain.

Jack handed him the Fenton Finder. “You never stuck around long enough for me to explain my changes, Danny-boy, but if you turn that on, you’ll see how bright your dot is….” Jack trailed off. Danny had obeyed him, but the screen was blank.

“Hey, it doesn’t think I’m a ghost anymore!” Danny looked thrilled. “Awesome, Dad! What did you do?”

Jack just stared at the screen, half-expecting the dot representing his son—which had always appeared so faithfully—to belatedly pop up.

He hadn’t done a thing to the Fenton Finder that should affect Danny.

Wordlessly, he reached for the recently-reassembled Booo-merang, turned it on, and tossed it. Danny ducked, but all it did was crash into the drying rack and shatter half a dozen test tubes, a couple of beakers, and a graduated cylinder. No matter how many times Jack had built and rebuilt it before, it had invariably locked onto Danny. Now, it was like there wasn’t even a ghost in the vicinity.

Danny reached for the Ghost Gabber before he could. “My name is Danny Fenton,” he said into its microphone, and this time—for the first time in Jack’s memory—it didn’t repeat his words.

The next thing Jack knew, Danny had his arms around his middle. “Thanks, Dad!” He sounded so relieved. It was almost painful to hear that, to hear how much of a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a weight his own parents had placed there. “I don’t know what you did, but I don’t care because it worked. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Danny gave him another squeeze before releasing him and bounding for the stairs. “I’m gonna tell Mom and Sam and Tucker and Jazz!”

Jack just stared after him, knowing he should call out to stop him but not knowing what to say.

Danny should still be targeted. He should still be identified as a ghost. Jack hadn’t…. Nothing he’d done would have affected that. Should have affected that.

Jack wasn’t sure how long he sat there, going over everything he’d done in his head, before he began double checking his instruments. He did know that if Phantom hadn’t coughed, very pointedly, Jack would have never noticed him.

That, above all else, told him how much this had shaken him.

“I’m assuming you talked to Danny,” Phantom said from where he floated a foot and a half off the floor, well away from the examination table and any of their weapons that would reach out and grab him at a touch of a button. “So what do you need me to do? How can I help?”

Jack had never turned the Fenton Ghost Gabber off, and despite what he’d done, he now expected it to still repeat Phantom’s words.

It didn’t.

Which meant Jack hadn’t gotten things wrong. Not that way, anyway. He hadn’t…hadn’t…. “The Fenton Finder,” he croaked, making a vague gesture towards it. “Do you still show up?” He had to be sure. He thought he was, but Maddie would want more proof than a gut feeling when he talked to her.

Phantom didn’t ask why, like Jack had expected, though he was appropriately wary as he flew over to pick up the device and turn it on.

Jack wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom knew exactly which one the Fenton Finder was or how it worked.

“No,” Phantom said, turning the screen in Jack’s direction so that he could see it was still blank.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Jack whispered. This was the result he had expected, but not after getting the same result for Danny. He shouldn’t have gotten the same result for Danny. Not if…if….

“Why? What’d you do?”

“We have your ecto-signature on file,” Jack said slowly. “It was easy enough to get, and we can get it again if you try to sabotage our data.”

Phantom rolled his eyes. “I’m not planning on breaking into your vault to destroy your precious data. Even if most of it is wrong. Besides, the thing’s phase-proof, isn’t it?”

Jack might have once been surprised that Phantom knew so much, but not anymore.

“I promised not to hunt you for a week,” Jack continued, ignoring Phantom’s remarks for now. “If you were able to help me, I wanted to be sure I could keep my end of the bargain.”

Phantom frowned. “Were? What’s that supposed to mean? I haven’t tried to help yet.”

Jack made sure to look him in the eye. He needed to see Phantom’s reaction, needed to see that he was fitting the pieces together correctly and that he wasn’t still missing something. “I fed your most recent ecto-signature reading into our weapons and taught them to ignore it,” he said.

Phantom looked at him blankly for a long few seconds, and then his eyes widened in panic. “Oh, crud.”

“What happened?” Jack asked gently. He thought Maddie might know how to best address this, how to deal with this sort of thing better than him, but she wasn’t here, and he was, and…. And he just had to let Phantom know he wasn’t going to lunge for any weapons or activate the Fenton Anti-Creep Mode or anything else. He had to let Phantom know he was willing to listen, that he was ready to listen, if Phantom was willing to tell him.

Phantom broke his gaze, guilt and discomfort written all over his features. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t try to fly away, either.

Slowly, he dropped until his feet were planted on the floor. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and crossed his arms, huddling in on himself, but Jack wasn’t going to give in. He wasn’t going to speak first, not unless Phantom tried to run and he had to catch him with the Fenton Fisher.

Phantom was still staring at his boots when he finally spoke, his voice barely audible. “It was an accident,” he breathed, and Jack could no longer be surprised.

All their (extensive) research pointed to the fact that each ghost’s ecto-signature was unique. Not static—ecto-signatures were influenced by a ghost’s experiences after death just as they were in the moment of their formation—but never the same for each ghost. It was impossible. Even ghosts skilled in mimicry wouldn’t be able to fully replicate another’s ecto-signature, as their own would still carry its own tell.

So if he had fed Phantom’s ecto-signature into his inventions and now they didn’t recognize Phantom or Danny?

“I’m sorry,” whispered Phantom. “I didn’t know how to tell you guys. And then I’d waited so long, too long, and I just…. It was easier to keep it a secret, I guess.” He was mumbling now. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t….”

Jack crossed the distance between them and scooped the ghost into his arms. “It’s okay, Danny-boy,” he murmured. “We know now. You just tell us what you need, okay? We want to help you.”

Phantom—Danny—was very still in his grip. “You believe me? You’re not…mad? Or thinking this is some kind of trick?”

Jack had no idea how this was possible, no idea what had happened or what Danny had been through since—the fact that Danny and Phantom were one and the same proved his ignorance on the subject—but he did know that he wasn’t mad. Besides, he didn’t know how a ghost could pull off a trick like this—or what would be gained by doing so, especially when it could be so easily disproven. Maddie might have some ideas on that front, but Jack was already sure that he was hearing the truth.

He just…knew it.

He didn’t even need to weigh Phantom’s actions against those of other ghosts, or scrutinize his verbal slips, or continue to assess his familiarity with their family and their technology.

“Accidents happen,” Jack repeated. He didn’t know how they were going to break the news to Maddie. She might be horrified, might blame herself—for not doing enough, for not noticing, for what she had done, what they had both done, in their ignorance—but he couldn’t let her. They needed to focus on what they still had, not on what had happened in the past—at least beyond preventing it from happening again. But he’d let Danny tell her, maybe over a plate of warm cookies once they were out of the oven. Cookies made everything better.

“Sometimes,” continued Jack quietly, “life’s lessons are expensive, and sometimes the cost can’t be paid with cash, but you’re still here. You’re still you. You’re still my son. You always will be, and I’ll always love you.”

Phantom twisted in Jack’s grip to throw his arms around him and hug him tightly, and then there was a brilliant flash of light and Jack was holding his son, his Danny-boy, and—

“I don’t think I realized how much I needed to hear that,” Danny murmured into his shoulder. “Thank you, Dad. I love you, too.”

(see more fics | my phight phics)

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #dp fanfiction #phanfiction #jack fenton #danny fenton #my writing #ladylynse #my phic phight phics #snippets #dp snippet #I wrote this instead of responding to most of the reviews on my last fic #only so much time

124 notes · View notes

darks-ink · 5 years

Text

Rise Above Myself

Prompt: Danny is off to college, leaving Vlad in charge of keeping ghosts out of Amity park. Prompt by: @going-dead Word count: 3,532

[AO3][FFnet][more Phic Phight fics]

“You wanted to speak with me?”

Danny hummed an affirmative, patting the rooftop next to him. Vlad rolled his eyes, but sat down regardless. It wasn’t like anyone would see him up here, anyway. Besides, he didn’t want to drive the boy to anger any sooner than necessary.

In the years since they had first met, their relationship had become… complicated. They had surpassed the fighting, the whole ‘arch-nemesis’ thing, and had come to a truce of sorts. They were still in no way friends. Nor had he taken any sort of important role in the boy’s life, to his continuing disappointment.

But Danny would never join him. Vlad knew that, now. It was better not to fight, to be able to hold a conversation with the only person who would know what existence as a halfa was like. The only one who would be able to understand.

Besides, Vlad was no fool. He knew darn well that Danny had surpassed him in strength. And, for all the years of experience he had over the boy, he couldn’t beat the sheer combat experience Danny had, either. Even mentorship was a chance long lost – Danny seemed content with the mentors he could find for himself in the Ghost Zone.

“So, uhm.” Danny fidgeted, having finally broken the silence that had come over them. He started pulling on the edge of his glove – a nervous gesture he had taken up in his ghost form, Vlad knew. “I’m… leaving for college. This weekend.”

Vlad perked up at this. “Really? That’s excellent news, my boy!” And it was. He had long encouraged Danny to focus on his own life over Amity Park’s safety. He already sacrificed so much for this thankless city – he shouldn’t give up on college, too. To throw away his future, the remainder of his life, for people who would never appreciate what he had done for them.

“Heh, yeah.” Danny huffed out a laugh, a smile lingering afterwards. “I got my acceptance letter already – big fancy university a couple states away. Even at my current speed, it’s a few hours flying away.”

“Finally leaving the ghost hunting to the professionals then? Good for you.” Vlad noticed that Danny didn’t mention which university, or where. Still keeping secrets from him? Not surprising, but… a little disappointing.

“Something like that.” And now the smile turned a little malicious, a smirk instead. “You were part of the ghost hunting club, after all. And you study ghosts.”

“Me?” Vlad asked, incredulous. The boy was out of his mind if he thought that Vlad would take over for him. He had spend the past 4 years encouraging Danny to stop, after all.

“Well, yeah.” Danny’s posture remained loose, casual. Like he had no stake in this conversation – like he had already won the discussion. “You’re the only other half-ghost in the city. The only person who can fight the ghosts on their own terms – in the air, and without the need for technology.”

Then he leaned in closer, and added in a conspiring tone, “Unless you think you’re not up for it? I know that I’m stronger than you, but you should still outclass most ghosts that come here. And surely your incredible intellect will allow you to beat such pathetic enemies?”

Vlad sneered, baring his fangs in an automatic response. “Of course it’s not a matter of not being able to do it! But I am above such despicable, thankless work. To protect a city – a people – who would rather hate their protector than cheer him on. Please.”

“If that’s how you see it,” Danny responded with a shrug. “But just imagine what would happen if no one stopped the ghosts. You know that my parents will pick up the slack instead. Do you really trust my dad to keep Amity Park safe? To keep Mom safe?” He cocked his head at Vlad, that awful smirk still on his face. “After all, Valerie has already left for college. So has Jazz, and Sam and Tucker. It’s just my parents. And you.”

Vlad remained silent now. The boy, unfortunately, had a point. All capable ghost hunters had left the city – or would leave it soon enough. The Fentons really would be the only ones left – and as capable as Maddie was, Jack had an awful habit of getting in her way. There was… quite a risk of her getting hurt.

And while he knew he wouldn’t – couldn’t – have her, he still didn’t want anything to happen to her. Damn that boy for still knowing exactly which buttons to press.

But… perhaps he could make it manageable. Many of Danny’s enemies were humanoid – or at very least, somewhat intelligent. Surely he could get most of them to stay away by using his resources, rather than his fists? And being harsher than Danny against the ones that did come through would surely discourage them, too.

“Fine,” he finally hissed at the boy, glaring at him to drive the point home. “Fine, I will do it. But not for this accursed city – I’ll do it for Maddie.”

“Of course you will, Fruitloop,” Danny laughed back, grinning widely.

He shook his head, already making plans. If he arranged things correctly, it wouldn’t be much of a bother to take over for Danny. After all, how much time did the teen really spend on ghost hunting?

Unfortunately, as he soon discovered, Danny actually spend a lot of time hunting ghosts. Because while his most noticeable enemies tended to be the humanoid ghosts, the majority of his enemies were actually non-sentient. And while Vlad might’ve been able to sway some of the intelligent ghosts to stay away, it was the feral animals that took up so much of his time, now. They were neither strong nor threatening – to a ghost as powerful as him, at least – but they were common enough to be a bother.

A good number of Danny’s rogues gallery showed up as well. Skulker, once told that Vlad had taken over, seemed disappointed but left without resistance. Technus put up a decent fight, but could afterwards be convinced to stay in the Ghost Zone if Vlad paid him with bits of technology. He was sure that Technus would eventually assemble this into a mech before returning – which is why he only send the worst bits he could find.

One of the more notable encounters ended up being Ember, of all ghosts. She had put on quite a show – as she tended to do. When Vlad showed up instead of Danny, she had frowned at him and crossed her arms.

Before he could open his mouth to ask her to leave, she had irritably asked him, “Where’s the dipstick?”

He quickly connected the dots – and the less than stellar nickname – and answered. “Daniel has left for college. I’ve taken over for him.”

After this, she willingly left for the Portal. Vlad had felt accomplished over scaring off a ghost that Daniel usually fought – until he had heard her mutter, “Old man isn’t any fun compared to the kid.”

Really, all things considered, Vlad thought that he was doing a fairly good job. And perhaps Amity’s residents weren’t as happy about him as they had been about Daniel – surprising considering how badly they tended to think of Phantom – but that mattered little to him. Maddie was safe. Anything else was a lucky coincidence.

But of course, disaster always struck when life appears to be going well. And this case was no different.

The ghost of the days – or ghosts, this time – were known by Vlad. He had never faced off against them, but he was sure that he could handle it. The first, the weaker, was an easy catch. Bertrand, despite being a shapeshifter, was predictable.

Unfortunately, in catching the green blob first, Vlad had offered Spectra an opening.

Vlad knew how she worked, what she did. He was sure that he could deal with her. As another manipulative soul, surely she wouldn’t be able to do much to him?

But oh, he was so wrong about her. Her black wispy tail wrapped around him, sharp claws digging into his shoulders, and immediately all strength sapped from him.

“Oh, what’s this?” the specter hissed, her voice overly sweet and dripping with malicious intent. “Another little do-gooder, hmm?”

Vlad opened his mouth to answer, to retort – but the ghost dug her nails in even deeper and suddenly he just felt so tired.

“And you’re not even a real hero, are you? Just trying to impress someone who could never love you!” She laughed, but it was sharp and cutting and cold. “Just a sick old man desperate for things he will never get. Can never get!”

She shifted, angling herself so she was looking him right in the eyes. Faintly, he could see himself reflected in her empty red eyes – somehow hers looked even more soulless than his own. “And the only one who knows what you feel, who might understand, left you! And now there’s no one left to care about you, is there?”

He wanted to protest, but… she was right. Jack never cared – he was responsible for this whole thing, after all. Maddie had never reciprocated on his feelings – and she never would, now.

And Daniel… The only one like him… The boy had left him. Had dumped this miserable responsibility on him and left.

“This sickness of yours is your body talking to you, Vladdie.” The ghost leaned in even closer, her claws shifting from his shoulders and further up his body. Faintly, Vlad was aware of blood leaking down his neck – but he made no move to stop her from hurting him further.

Maybe… Maybe he did deserve this.

“You know what it’s telling you?” Her tone was conversational, honey-sweet. “It’s telling you that you should finish what you started and die!”

Her talon-like claw swung down. Vlad closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.

A whiz, like an ectoblast flying past. Hair-raising shrieking as Spectra released him, finally.

Vlad fell to the floor, looking bleary-eyed at the dark specter in front of him. Green smoke still spiraled away from her chest, where the blast must’ve landed.

Now that he was away from her constricting touch, Vlad’s mind started to clear. While Spectra had spoken the truth, she had twisted it – turned his own thoughts against him. She had only told him things he already knew – and things that simply weren’t true. Daniel hadn’t just left. Vlad himself had encouraged the boy!

And now the boy must’ve returned. As Spectra swiped away the last lingering smoke, Vlad realized this. Someone had fired at her, using green ectoplasm. That could only be a Fenton – either Danny, or one of his parents’ guns. And the parents wouldn’t have aimed for Spectra. Wouldn’t have saved him, at least.

He pushed himself upright, a retort fresh on his tongue. A tease to the boy, about how he could never stop his hero-work, no matter how much he might’ve wanted to. How he always protected everyone, no matter how bad they were.

And floating there was certainly a Phantom. Messy white hair, vibrant green eyes. Black and white jumpsuit – although this one a tad looser than the one usually seen.

“Leave him alone!” Dani snapped, green energy whirling around her clenched fists.

“Oh, and who’s this?” Spectra hummed, floating back a step or two. Her eyes were set on the clone now – she knew that Vlad was still weakened. “Another little failure who thinks she can stand up to me?”

Rather than take the words to heart, however, Dani smiled back. All teeth and no joy. “I don’t just think, lady.” She underlined the statement with a shot, a blast of superheated ectoplasm aimed straight at Spectra.

The shadowy ghost dodged, barely. “Is that so?” she purred, still eyeing up her new enemy.

Then suddenly she launched herself towards Dani. The clone wasn’t fast enough to evade her, and the two collided. Spectra pressed her into the dirt of the park, baring her teeth. “Do you really think that you can stand up to me? A little failed clone like you?”

Vlad had finally struggled himself back onto his feet, feeling his energy come back to him. But he hadn’t even recovered far enough for an ectoblast. Not yet.

An explosion of green, and Spectra was launched away. Dani pushed herself off of the ground, green energy still coiling in her aura. “Less talking and more butt-kicking!”

Spectra snarled, evading the follow-up blasts that Dani send her way. “And you really think that you can succeed where your original failed?”

She pinned the clone to a tree, leaning in close. “You really think that you can win, if more powerful ghosts, more experienced ghosts, couldn’t?”

Finally, finally, Vlad’s energy was back to a respectable level. Not one to be left out, he shot a blast of pink ectoplasm at the soul-sucking ghost. “It’s not polite to ignore your guests, Spectra,” he quipped.

She snarled, but Dani took this opportunity to blast the ghost as well. Confident that Spectra was finally pinned, Vlad used his telekinesis to draw the Thermos back to him. He had lost it earlier in the fight – although he wasn’t sure when.

The Thermos was an imitation, of course, but no less powerful for the fact.

“Goodbye,” he snarked at the ghost as he uncapped it. Dani gave her a short wave, as well. With a last shriek, Spectra was drawn into the ghost-catching device.

The fight was over.

And as little as Vlad wanted to admit it, the little clone had been an integral part of the fight. Without her contribution, Spectra would’ve killed him. And as much as he disliked her – her, and everything she stood for – he wasn’t enough of a jerk to ignore such a thing.

“I… thank you, Danielle,” he managed, finally. He could tell from her expression that she doubted the genuineness of his statement, so he added, “Without your help, she surely would’ve killed me.”

“Probably,” Dani agreed with a shrug. She looked away from him, her gaze turned downwards – she was kicking around a rock. “You were getting your butt handed to you pretty badly.”

“I– Yes, I’m afraid I was.” He frowned, confused by her blase attitude. And, now that he thought about it, her immunity to Spectra’s abilities. “Spectra’s insults have a way to… dig into one’s skin. Yet they didn’t seem to trouble you.”

Dani nodded, clearly catching on to his silent question. “Yeah, well. She didn’t say anything I haven’t heard before.” And now she looked back up again, her large green eyes locking onto his own. “After all, she didn’t say anything you haven’t said before. And your words were worse, because unlike Spectra, I actually cared about you!”

Her fists clenched, her eyes starting to look wet – but Dani was blinking away the tears before they could form. “You actually meant something to me! And yet you kicked me to the ground, like trash! Like I didn’t matter!”

He paused, taking in her emotional rant. He supposed that she had a point. He had cast her aside – she hadn’t mattered, because she wasn’t Daniel. “But then why did you save me?”

Shrugging, Dani offered him a wry smile. She swept a hand past her eyes – wiping away tears she hadn’t shed. “I’m not you,” she said. “I’m better than that. I won’t just let you die – especially if you’re trying to do the right thing for once.”

Then her smile turned a little more genuine. She added, with a joking tone, “But maybe you should leave the actual hero-work for younger ghosts, old man.”

“Maybe I should.” He looked at her, thoughtful. Sure, Danny had instructed him to keep Amity Park safe. But if he could convince Dani to take over instead… As long as Amity was safe, it would be fine, yes? “Perhaps we can come to an agreement, hm?”

The clone eyed him, now. She seemed to consider this. “What kind of agreement?”

“We can work together to protect Amity Park in Daniel’s stead,” he started to explain, folding his hands together. He was in his element now – the negotiation of tough deals. “You can take care of most of the ghosts, but we’ll work together against the stronger ones. In return for your efforts, I will pay you – both with money, and with a safe place to stay and food to eat. There is plenty of room in my mansion, after all.”

Then he quirked an eyebrow at her. “And, of course, I can offer training – guidance with your powers. Daniel never accepted – but you are not Daniel, are you?”

She rolled her eyes with a huff. “Now you’re getting it.” Then she fell quiet again as she thought over his proposal.

“Fine,” she finally said, nodding. “But the training won’t be set thing – only when I want to. All the other stuff sounds alright, but only if I get paid per ghost captured and for the amount of time it takes.”

“Very well.” He offered her his hand, and they shook on it. “Then I welcome you to Amity Park, Danielle. May it treat you better than it treated your cousin.”

He had initially seen it like hiring a professional ghost hunter. It was no different than when he had hired Valerie, after all. But that girl had been paid in equipment – this one was paid with food and a roof above her head, instead.

And it worked surprisingly well. Danielle, now that she was older and well-fed for once in her life, was a powerful ghost. She was intelligent and a quick-thinker – and had creative solutions to problems. The girl was a very capable defender – and Amity Park was glad to see a Phantom as their protector again, even if it wasn’t the same one.

Of course, Vlad had had a part in this. As mayor, he had announced the presence of the new ghostly protector of the town. Dani Phantom, he had explained, was a close relative of the Phantom that used to haunt Amity. And he assured the townspeople, that this ghost was certainly a good one. She would keep them safe.

Valerie dropping by didn’t hurt Danielle’s image, either. Her reputation as the Red Huntress was a shaky one, as the people who liked Phantom tended to distrust her, and vice-versa. But when she had announced that she was leaving Amity Park, many had mourned the loss of an excellent ghost hunter. Their only capable human protector.

So when the Red Huntress was spotted conversing with the new Phantom, people were quite curious. They were too high in the skies to overhear, but it was clear from their postures that they knew each other. They chattered on for quite a bit of time before Phantom flew off and Red lowered herself to the ground. She, too, announced that the new ghost was a good one.

The next few months passed with surprising ease. By the time Christmas rolled around, Danny returned to Amity Park to celebrate the holidays. The two of them met at the Christmas Truce party in the Ghost Zone, separating from the crowd so they could talk in private.

Vlad smirked at the boy – the young man, really. “Annoyed that I’ve found a loophole in our agreement, Daniel?” he asked, a taunting tone to his voice.

“What, do you think you somehow cheated our deal?” But Danny simply laughed, shaking his head. “No way. You did like, the complete opposite of that.”

Frowning, Vlad turned to face the boy properly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you did all I wanted from you and more. I asked you to protect Amity Park for me, right? And not only have you done that, beyond what I asked for – you even helped Dani along the way.” He grinned at Vlad, expression brighter than Vlad had ever seen it before. “I just wanted to give you a second chance – I didn’t expect much from you except maybe the barest little bit of effort. And instead I find out that you’ve given Dani another shot, too. A roof, food, money – love.”

Vlad opened his mouth to protest this – he had only done what was necessary. Then he shut it again.

Because he hadn’t done just the necessary. He could’ve just offered Danielle money – she could’ve paid for food and a place to stay on her own. He hadn’t had to offer her his own house. But he did.

And… Danielle had grown on him. There were things about her, good things, that he had previously overlooked.

“I suppose that you’re right,” he finally grumbled.

Maybe… Maybe this whole ‘doing nice things’ thing… wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #dani phantom #danny fenton #spectra #phanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfic #dp fanfiction #dark writes #i wrote this in less than 3 hours and edited it right after #it's half past midnight so some mistakes might've slipped past me #but i wanted to get this done before Endgame so #might be the last fic i write for the Phight

113 notes · View notes

purpleillusn · 5 years

Text

Returning After the Reveal

Phic Phight attack 3

Prompt: “A post Phantom-Planet (or post reveal, if you hate PP that much) fic in which Danny is getting used to his new fame and recognition as a superhero. His teachers, classmates, and even former bullies are all suddenly treating him differently, and Danny’s not quite sure what to do with that.” - @love-ly-ish

Words: 7143

Danny pushed his crutches down again, supporting his weight as he made his way over to the X-Ray room. He was pretty sure that he could have walked, but doctor’s orders said he couldn’t, hence the crutches.

Whispers erupted as he traversed the labyrinth of corridors. Onlookers either appeared to be in awe, admirers and fans of his Phantom persona, while others scowled, moving out the way, many fearful of the teen in front of them, or rather his powers. He supposed he hadn’t been expecting anything different, the world probably hadn’t been ready for the existence of halfas, but had been introduced to them anyway.

A mother pulled her child away and close to her chest just as he’d tried to go up to Danny, attempting to shield the boy from him. Danny sighed and his mom placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

They entered the room, and Danny lay on the table as per the previous X-Ray, while Maddie joined the radiologist further away. If there was one thing Danny was grateful for in this great big mess of a situation, it was his parents’ unwavering support. Without them kicking up a fuss it would have been entirely possible for the GIW to cart him off to their labs, labelled as an ecto-based threat, while he was unconscious and wounded. Danny suppressed a shudder at that idea.

“Danny, you can come over here now,” called the doctor, a kindly old man who looked somewhat like a walrus.

On the computer screen was Danny’s leg, his tibia and fibula completely intact, just as expected. “Jeez you heal fast, kid. Most people would take months to recover from that,” commented the doctor, clicking into the image to zoom in. “Not even a hairline fracture anymore.”

Danny cringed - he’d had one hell of a compound fracture. On top of that apparently they had to pick fragments of bone out of his leg. Nope, he was not going to imagine that. The surgeons had been slightly freaked out even after he came around post-surgery, his healing factor having caused problems with treating his injuries.

“Does this mean I don’t need crutches now?” Danny asked hopefully, lightly kicking the leg in its brace.

“Yes, you’re free to go. Just don’t go breaking more bones on us,” the doctor chuckled, his belly shaking as he did so.

“No promises,” Danny responded, flashing him a smile before sitting down to phase the cast off his leg. “Uh, so, what do I do with this?” He waved it in the air. This was nice, being able to use his powers around others without having to fear exposure.

Maddie took the cast from him and placed it in the appropriate bin as they left the hospital. “Well, that went well,” she said, trying to maintain an optimistic mood despite the countless pairs of eyes on them, passing their own individual judgement.

Danny muttered something under his breath and Maddie asked him to speak up.

“I’d have preferred for none of this to happen in the first place,” he said barely loud enough for her to hear properly. “I should’ve handled the attack better.”

Maddie sighed. “You can’t be perfect, Danny. I wish you hadn’t got hurt like that, but it’s all we can do to move on from it now. You saved a lot of lives that day, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar.”

“So I’ve heard,” Danny said spitefully, immediately resenting himself for taking that tone with his mom. “Sorry, I just-” He trailed off.

“It’s been a stressful few days, hasn’t it?” she said, unlocking the car and opening the door.

Danny mirrored her in opening the door on the passenger side, slipping into his seat. “Yeah.”

They backed out of the parking lot, the sound of tacky pop music coming from the radio while Danny picked at the fabric of his jeans. “Mom? Do you ever have times when you feel you could have done better?”

“Of course I do. Regrets are part of life, and no matter what you do, there’ll always be that nagging voice in your head,” Maddie said as she turned onto the highway.

“How do you deal with it?” Danny enquired.

Maddie glanced at Danny, then cast her eyes back to the road. “I remind myself that my mistakes are in the past, and I can’t change them. Plus focusing on the positives helps, like people you helped and ways you can do better in the future.”

Danny contemplated her words for a few seconds. “Thanks, mom.”

They were now approaching Amity Park, which did not have its own hospital due to the risk of ghost attacks. Craters, Danny-shaped and otherwise, marred the landscape and they passed a sign reading ‘Amity Park: A nice place to-’ The rest of the sign having been destroyed by ectoblasts, leaving it illegible.

Maddie cleared her throat. “But even I have regrets I can’t forgive myself for.”

“Oh,” Danny said, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. They’d had this conversation once already, in which Danny adamantly defended them, though admittedly he had been pretty drugged up then, so he couldn’t blame her for talking about it again. “I still don’t blame you for anything. I chose to lie to you- I shouldn’t have, and there was no way you could’ve guessed that your living son was a ghost.” He breathed before continuing. “You can’t change the past.”

Maddie conceded and continued the drive without bringing it up again, instead choosing to talk about space and recent developments in astronomy and astrophysics.

They stopped in the driveway of the Fenton house, now with a metal fence to fend off rabid reporters, fans and those who despised Danny and his entire family. They’d probably have to upgrade the security system at some point soon, but for now it would do.

The house was a lot cleaner than the night of the ghost attack, but was still somewhat disheveled, albeit without fragments of glass around the place now. “Good to see you Danny-boy!” Jack engulfed Danny in a one armed hug, his left arm being covered in bandages. “Can’t keep you down, eh?”

Danny chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Speaking of which, Danny, we’ll need to do a check up on your core,” Maddie interjected, catching Danny off guard with how naturally the words came from her mouth. They seemed to be adjusting about as well as one could to the revelation that their son’s half ghost, going so far as to lock up their most powerful weapons and program all of the inventions they could to ignore Danny’s ectosignature, including the ghost gabber, much to Danny’s delight. Sam and Tucker had managed to convince the Fenton parents that separating Danny’s ghost and human halves would be a terrible idea by explaining the Fenton ghost catcher incident, that and it didn’t take a scientist to know that ripping away part of someone’s body wasn’t good for them. If Danny was healthy and happy, that’s all that mattered to them.

The core check-up went similarly to an X-Ray, just in the lab, and with a different machine.

Danny pulled his t-shirt over his head, ignoring the fact that his hair was now even more messy than usual, and walked over to the computer screen displaying the scan.

A look at the display wouldn't mean much to someone without knowledge of ectobiology, but both the Fenton parents and Danny could see that it had thousands of tiny marks of damage, like the tears that form in a muscle after excess exertion.

“It looks like it’s healing. See? Snowfang was right,” said Danny.

Snowfang, the head doctor in the Far Frozen, had assured them that it would heal with time, as long as Danny did not overexert himself again.. Naturally the Fenton parents had still been worried, and coming up with ways to aid healing.

His dad grinned at him, while his mom had an unreadable expression of thought.

“You’ll still have to drink ectoplasm until you’re better,” she ordered, before quickly adding, “but maybe don’t bring it to school tomorrow.”

Crud. School. Danny cringed at the thought of his phan club following him around. “I’m not sure if I want to go back there. I mean, what if people…”

Maddie crouched slightly to be eye to eye with Danny. “It’ll be fine, just give it a try, okay? And if it’s too much for you, or you get bullied, we can always look into home education.”

Danny nodded, eyes downcast.

The ring of the doorbell pierced through the quiet and momentarily drowned out the whir of machines from every angle of the basement.

Jack was the first to reach the door, opening it only to remember that there was also a tall metal fence and gate between the street and the living room. “Jazzypants! Elle!” he bellowed as he opened the gate, letting two girls in. Elle gave him as much of a hug as her short arms could manage, channelling some ghost powers to jump up. Jack patted Danielle’s back and closed the gate. Danny’s face lit up at the sight of his adoptive sister, now dubbed ‘Elle’ both to avoid confusion and due to her sense of individuality, still clinging onto their dad as he came back into the house. The adoption would be going through quickly after they’d ‘convinced’ Vlad that it was best to let them adopt her and for him to leave her alone. It hardly seemed like she’d only lived with them for less than a week, yet that was undeniably the truth.

Elle, grinning broadly, dropped to the floor. “Hey, Danny, you’re all better?”

Danny made a more or less gesture with his hand. “Pretty much.”

Jazz announced her presence by dumping a large bag of books on the floor with a thud. “Well, that’s book shopping done.”

Danny glanced at the bag, stunned. “Did you buy the entire bookstore?”

“Ha, ha,” Jazz deadpanned. “Elle’s starting Middle School in September, that’s only five months away, so she’ll need to catch up on any material she missed out on by then.”

Elle was less excited by the idea of school, and instead pulled out a book titled ‘How much poo does an elephant do?’. “I got to choose some books I wanted too.”

• • •

Sweat poured from Danny’s brow as he tried his best to hold up the beams of a near-collapsed building while the last inhabitants ran for safety. After the last person escaped, guided away by Maddie and Jack Fenton, he intangibly passed through the building, letting it collapse through him, and turned his attention to the gruesome ghost currently being shot at while trying to chase down the Red Huntress. She looked worse for wear, her suit not repairing the scratches in it like it typically did. The fight had been drawn out for too long, and everyone knew it, but the ghost just didn’t seem to have a weak spot, all shots ricocheting off its armored skin. And worst of all it had a fire core, leaving the pavement melted under it with each step it made.

“Oi! Ugly!” Danny shrieked, a lot more shrilly than he than he originally intended. The taunt had the exact effect Danny wanted, all of the dozen or so eyes of the beast turning towards him and narrowing. Its nostrils flared, and it made a beeline for Danny, stomping down anything that stood in its way.

Calling on the power of his own core, Danny sent out a blast of ice, which encased the ghost for mere seconds before melting under the extreme heat of its flaming breath. Danny created an energy shield, doing his best to block the attack, his palms burning as the fire was redirected around him and into the building, exciting the embers floating in the air and on the ground.

The flames stopped abruptly as yet another fighter flew into the fray, blasting the beast in the side. “Leave my cousin alone!” Elle yelled, unleashing another energy ball, which knocked the creature back.

It was then that Danny saw something, a weakness, an opening. The ghost opened its mouth and Danny took this opportunity to shoot a beam on ice into it, giving the ghost the worst possible case of brain freeze experienced by any being. Without hesitation, Danny tackled the ghost to the ground, glancing up at Valerie who was pulling out her thermos.

Unfortunately, Danny really should have kept his attention on the ghost, as it grabbed him by the leg in its vice-like grip and hurled him into the rubble of the building he’d been trying to hold up just a minute earlier. A sickening crunch of bone shattering could be heard as Danny’s body crashed against the hot concrete and brick. He tried to climb to his feet, only to realise that one of his legs was practically snapped in two, and instead hovering weakly. Elle flew over to him like a rocket, putting an arm under his shoulder to support him, seeing his exhaustion.

Danny evaluated the situation, noting that the ghost appeared to be much more sluggish, cracks showing in its skin, revealing what looked to be swirling magma underneath.

“Cover your ears! Now!” he shouted and unleashed an unearthly wail, rippling through the air, peeling through the armor of the ghost with each wave that came its way.

Danny collapsed, ears ringing, desperately fighting back white rings while Elle held him just above the ground.

A blue light engulfed the magma ghost in front of them, and the Red Huntress landed, hoverboard retracting into the soles of her shoes, now-full thermos in her hand. “Phantom? I just wanted to say thank you, both of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Danny offered her a tired smile before falling into the black, a ring of light passing over his head as he dropped like a rock.

Danny awoke with a start, glancing at the time on his alarm clock: 6:45 am. Could be worse. Of course he’d just had to have that dream, that memory again the night before school. The universe was simply unkind to halfas - not even permitting them to sleep until their alarm would have gone off.

He dropped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, figuring that if he was going to face his possible doom today, he might as well be presentable while doing so. The cold shower was nice - just another reminder that he was weird. Jazz always complained that he’d left it on the cold temperature when she went to shower.

Speaking of Jazz, she was already downstairs when Danny entered the kitchen. “Ready to go back to school, little brother?”

“No, not really” Danny sighed as he poured a bowl of cereal for himself, reminding him of the day when he’d almost told his parents his secret early on after being picked up by the ghost detector.

“I’ll be with you when we go there,” Jazz comforted. “Take deep breaths and try to focus on what could go well today.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Thanks.”

The Fenton parents came into the kitchen soon after, one from downstairs, and the other with a very grumpy looking Elle - apparently she was not a morning person. Maddie guided the sleep deprived halfa to the table, and she immediately brightened up at the prospect of breakfast, inhaling a bowl of Cookie Crisp.

“Remember your ectoplasm,” Maddie said to the half ghosts, placing a glass of the glowing green liquid in front of each of them, much to Danny’s chagrin. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, it was just weird, like sweet tasting batteries that prickled his tongue with its energy.

Elle seemed not to have inherited Danny’s dislike of the sensation, and downed her glass like orange juice. This was just one of the many differences between them that she had embraced, along with her love of toast.

Danny sipped his ectoplasm, reminding himself that it was just filtered from the atmosphere of the zone.

“What does it taste like?” Jack asked, like a curious puppy. He knew better than to try and drink some himself - ectoplasm was decidedly not suitable for human consumption. The only reason halfas could drink it was because their biology was different to a human’s on the molecular level.

“Kinda like honey charged with electricity,” Danny answered before taking another gulp of it.

“It’s nice,” Elle chimed in. “Danny’s just not used to it - that’s why he’s scared of drinking it.”

Danny shot her a playful glare and glugged the rest of the glass, which she cackled at.

The energy rippled through his core, like a concentrated energy drink, which wasn’t actually far off the mark as a description of it.

Jack hummed, and began tinkering with an invention he’d been working on on the side for the time Danny had been hospitalised. It was a small plastic wristband, with a glowing green light and small amounts of exposed circuitry where he’d unscrewed a panel on it. It was slightly rough looking, but for something thrown together over just a few days, it was impressive.

The band was a failsafe, in case the school had concerns about him harming other students that could not be remedied by their word - it suppressed Danny’s powers, namely his ectoblasts. It wasn’t great, but if worst came to worst it at least wouldn’t hurt Danny.

Pocketing the band, Jack and the rest of his family, including Elle, who was still worried that Vlad might come for her, clambered into the Fenton family RV (Maddie was driving as it was decided that property damage would not make a good impression).

They reached the school too early for Danny’s liking, and he wiped his clammy palms on his jeans before exiting the vehicle.

Mr Lancer was waiting outside, visibly surprised that nothing had been destroyed while parking until he noticed that Maddie had been driving. He shook the Fenton parents’ hands, and guided the family into the building.

Danny noticed the news van was parked in the road by the school, evidently not allowed onto school property, but figured it was best to ignore it - he’d honestly expected far more people following him around, but apparently he’d passed out of the news with the next big thing.

The early students gawked as the group passed them through the corridors on their way to Mr Lancer’s office, but Danny once again did his best to ignore it.

The office door was agape, and Principal Ishiyama was sat in a small plastic chair next to Mr Lancer’s desk. Mr Lancer closed the door after the group, sitting down in his worn padded chair and indicating to the plastic chairs arranged by the entrance. He surveyed the odd group as they lowered themselves to their chairs, eyes lingering momentarily on Elle, taking in the unfamiliar, yet familiar face.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, there has been protesting against Daniel returning to school,” Mr Lancer began, voice steady and calm, as if talking about any other issue at school, “however, we, as a school, and as people, will not discriminate against an individual based on their, biology. I am glad to see you healthy Daniel, and would like to make it very clear that you are welcome at this school.

“Your teachers, myself included are prepared to give you leeway and accommodate your ghost hunting. We do expect that you work hard to keep up with class work, and attend extra sessions if necessary, but you will not be punished for leaving lessons to deal with ghost attacks. I’m well aware that you are capable of doing well, and all you need to do if ask for help whenever you feel that you’re falling behind.”

Danny was ectatic. This was too good to be true! “Thank you Mr Lancer! I will.”

Ishiyama took this moment to interject. “But, we do have some restrictions we would like you to follow.”

Of course. There was always a catch.

“You are not allowed to abuse your privileges, and if it is found that you have been skipping class without a good reason there will be appropriate punishment. Additionally, you are not allowed to use your abilities to cheat or harm others. We do not take this lightly, and doing this could get you expelled from the school.”

Danny flinched imperceptibly at the mention of cheating.

“We will not stop you from using your powers altogether though. You may use what non-destructive or harmful powers you have as you feel comfortable with, we trust that you can use your judgement as to what is appropriate.”

“That sounds reasonable,” said Danny, relaxing slightly. “I promise I won’t hurt others, and I definitely won’t cheat.”

This seemed to satisfy the Principle, who smiled at the family. “Well then, enjoy your day. I believe lessons will be starting in fifteen minutes. Please ask myself or Mister Lancer if you have any questions.”

And with that Ishiyama pardoned herself from the room, leaving the family with just Mr Lancer, who shuffled a small stack of papers.

“One last thing, Daniel,” Mr Lancer called out to Danny as he went to stand up from his chair. “My door is always open if you need to talk about anything.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer!” Danny smiled up at his teacher, and left the office with the rest of his family.

“That went well,” commented Maddie, and Jack nodded enthusiastically. “We should really go home now. See you later, you two. I know you both find kisses embarrassing, so have a good day.”

“Bye,” both Danny and Jazz chorused.

“Enjoy your day of hell!” Elle shouted after them, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear.

“Same to you!” Danny yelled back as she rounded the corner and out of view.

Jazz and Danny said their goodbyes and went off to their respective lessons early. Waiting outside the science lab, Danny couldn’t help but keep an eye on every face that passed in the mass of students getting to class. His face lit up when he saw Sam and Tucker approach him through the crowd, their faces brightening an equal amount at the sight of their friend healthy and happy.

“Yo, how are you?” Tucker greeted, giving Danny a high five.

“Good. I’m all healed, and the school seems to be okay with me being here,“Danny replied. “What about you?”

“Pretty good. How’re your folks taking the reveal?”

“Great. They’re happy I’m going into ghost hunting, and they seem to have accepted my ghost half. They even adopted Elle!” Danny was practically bursting with joy, and it warmed the others through.

“Oh yeah, we saw her with your parents on the way in. She looks really happy - I guess she’s settling in well,” said Sam, smiling far too brightly for her goth aesthetic.

“Excuse me,” a small voice came from the right, and the trio turned to see Mikey, a small red haired boy, standing there timidly, with his nerdy friends behind him. “I, uh, I wanted to say thank you - for all the times you’ve saved us.”

Danny was dumbfounded. People knowing his not-so-secret identity was going to take some getting used to. “Um, no problem. I just did what anyone would do.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, how do your ghost powers work?” Mikey asked rapidly. “Are you a ghost? Does this mean you’re dead? You’re not dead, right?” He looked slightly horrified.

“Of course he’s not dead!” Sam said abruptly, the guilt of the accident gnawing at the back of her mind. The nerds flinched.

“What Sam said, I’m not dead, or at least I don’t think I am,” Danny spoke. “I’m not entirely sure how my powers work, we think I’m half ghost - um, when I got my powers, I think ectoplasm got bonded to my DNA or something.” Danny didn’t want to go into specifics of how he got his ghost powers. The memory was slightly traumatic, and he really didn’t want to risk others attempting to repeat it - that was dangerous, and painful.

“Woah, that’s so cool! Is it like a comic book origin story?”

“That’s enough.” Sam cut Mikey off, and he shrunk back.

The teacher soon emerged from the classroom to shepard the students to their seats. Mrs Bray, the strict, rule-abiding chemistry teacher, with a glare that could melt concrete, sat in her chair, back straight as the pole that was probably stuck up her butt. She read out the register, each student replying with a ‘yes miss’, until she reached Danny’s name and mutters broke out among the students. Her eye twitched, but she continued the register after Danny confirmed his presence

Once the register was over, she stood before the board, and took a breath before her lecture.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr Fenton has been revealed to be somewhat of a celebrity, however, I would like you to respect his privacy, and there will be no discussion of him or anything of the sort in my classroom. I expect you to focus on your work, and nothing else while you’re here. Am I understood?”

“Yes miss,” came the drone of thirty or so students brought an odd sense of relief to Danny. In her own way, his teacher was showing her support, preventing others from pestering him during class. Unfortunately, she could not stop the glances that were sent his way throughout the lesson. Dash in particular seemed to be staring the most, a guilty expression on his face. Oh, Danny was probably going to have an awkward conversation after class, unless he turned invisible to escape, but that would probably just draw more attention to him.

Valerie, on the other hand, appeared to have a swirl on emotions passing behind her eyes as she occasionally glanced at Danny, as though wanting to talk to him, which she of course did. Okay, so that was going to be two awkward conversations after the lesson.

As the teacher told people to pack up, Danny psyched himself up for what awaited him out of Mrs Bray’s classroom. Valerie was aggressively stuffing her bag, and Danny feared what she’d do once they were out of the classroom. Scenarios passed through his head, each of them involving a way in which Danny’s life, or rather the next few minutes of his life, could go wrong.

The instant they were out the classroom a hand grabbed Danny’s arm and dragged him to the janitor’s closet. Valerie stood there, somehow seeming sad, worried and majorly pissed off, all the while managing not to scream. Sam and Tucker burst in, quickly tailing after the ghost boy. “Hey, Valerie, don’t do anything rash,” Sam implored, “wait, are you crying?”

Pearlescent tears were trailing down from Valerie’s eyes, and she wiped them away with her arm. “Tell anyone I’ve cried and you’re dead!” Valerie snapped.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” placated Sam. “Do you want us to leave so you can talk to Danny?”

Valerie shook her head. “No, stay, please.” She almost pleaded towards the end, the emotional strain from the past week bubbling to the surface.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For hunting you, for blaming you for everything that went wrong in my life,” Valerie cried quietly.

“It’s fine, Val I’m sorry for lying to you for all this time.” She looked up to see Danny putting a hand on her shoulder, ice blue eyes radiating comfort. Valerie shook her head again, a lot more violently than she intended to.

“I didn’t exactly give you much choice, did I?”

Danny just shrugged. The bell telling them lessons were starting chose that moment to go off, and panic quickly spread through the group before they conceded themselves to their fate of being late to English.

“Y’know, now would be a great time for a ghost attack we can blame for us being late to class.” Danny tried to lighten the mood, but quickly regretted it when his ghost sense went off - his face falling as the blue mist swirled into the air in front of him at the same time as Valerie’s ghost detector going off. “Okay, I was kidding, but I should probably take care of this.” He suddenly looked nervous. “Want to team up on this one, Val?”

Valerie looked taken aback. “What? You trust me just like that?”

“Well, yeah. You are my friend - our friend.” Danny corrected himself seeing Sam and Tucker opening their mouths to correct him on that point. “Danny’s right,” Tucker said, leaning against the closet door to listen out for the ghost attack.

Sam continued, “as much as I may have been reluctant to admit it, you have become a friend over this time. And by the way, we’ve known about your ghost hunting since the beginning - at the park. You might want to consider getting something to mask your voice if you want to keep a secret identity.”

Valerie felt a blush flush into the cheeks. “You got it,” she said, checking the radar on her ghost detector as she did so. “It’s by the sports hall. I’m new to this teamwork stuff, what do you three do about ghost attacks?”

“Uh, do you two want to handle this one?” Tucker’s hand clasped the door handle. “We can go tell Mr Lancer why you’re late.”

“I’m guessing you want us to keep your ghost hunting a secret Valerie,” Sam asked rhetorically. “We can just tell Mr Lancer that you’re helping Danny out or something and leave it at that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Valerie said, activating her suit, covering her face last. Tucker gave a low whistle at the show of electronics, and glanced to Danny, who seemed unfazed by her suit. Of course he was, this kid had seen it all before.

Seeing that Valerie was comfortable enough in his presence to activate her suit, Danny went ghost, rings of blinding white travelling across his body. Valerie’s mouth was practically on the floor - this much was evident even with her mask. Danny Phantom floated opposite her, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Ta-da,” he quipped, and Valerie collected herself enough to notice that Sam and Tucker were snickering at her reaction. They quickly scampered off to Mr Lancer’s lesson, and Danny extended his hand to Valerie.

“Wanna try navigating like a ghost?” he asked, eyes twinkling like stars.

She took his gloved hand, and screamed as she was whisked along through the wall. A feeling like being submerged in icy water sent a shiver down Valerie’s spine. Noticing her reaction, Danny landed on the other side of the wall in an empty classroom. “Sorry, I really should have warned you about that.”

“No, it’s fine - just felt cold,” Valerie tried to quell the expression of guilt that had wormed its way into Danny’s face. It was still weird seeing Phantom as Danny, even if his reveal had been caught on camera and broadcast on live TV. There was something innately wrong about seeing your friend as a ghost, and the odd glow he had to his skin didn’t help make him look like the human Danny Fenton she’d known., illuminating his features oddly and making him appear almost as a completely different person.

“Oh, yeah.” Danny fiddled with the hair on the back of his neck. “I kinda forgot - Sam and Tucker are both used to it, and I don’t normally make others intangible.”

“Really, it’s fine. Let’s go find that ghost before it hurts someone,” Valerie insisted.

Danny nodded with renewed determination, and took her hand again tentatively before turning them intangible again and speeding off towards the gym.”

This was certainly different to flying on a hoverboard, Valerie thought to herself. A hoverboard at least somewhat obeyed gravity - ghost flight, not at all. She could somehow feel the movement while at the same time not feeling anything at all, but it was fun nonetheless.

They arrived at the gym’s storage room in a matter of seconds, and another plume of blue mist emerged from Danny’s mouth, indicating that the ghost was near.

“BEWARE!”

The Box Ghost was levitating a crate full of footballs in the air, features alight with menacing glee. He hurled the contents of the crate at the pair of ghost hunters, not realising that Danny had yet to drop his intangibility. Valerie flinched, Danny grinned, and the balls flew right through them. “Want to do the favors?” Danny indicated to the chubby ghost in front of them, now lifting a box of rackets.

“With pleasure.” Valerie activated a moderately sized gun that materialised in her hand, hitting the Box Ghost square in the butt.

He yowled and spun around just in time to be caught in the beam of the Fenton Thermos. He looked like a fat spider being sucked down the plughole, and the onlookers were torn between pity and entertainment at the sight.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,”Danny stated, landing firmly next to Valerie on the floor of the storage room, avoiding the balls scattered across it. “Should we tidy up the mess?”

Valerie looked surprised, recalling the copious amounts of property damage and mess both of them had created in the past.

Reading her expression, Danny explained. “I’ve been wanting to test out a new power, and this is a small enough scale that it should be fine.”

“You have a tidying-up power?” Valerie asked, eyebrow cocked, not that Danny could see it all that easily with her visor.

Danny chuckled, picking up on the heavy sarcasm laced in her tone, and his aura seemed to spark, every one of the balls in the vicinity gaining a bright green aura of their own and lifting into the air. He concentrated, eyebrows knitting together as the footballs drifted into the crate, all but one landing neatly inside it, which then lifted up as well and placed itself in its usual spot on the floor.

“Woah,” Valerie stood next to him stunned while he panted. “Was that telekinesis?”

Danny’s breathing went back to a more normal pace, still considerably deeper than usual. “Yeah. It’s something that most ghosts can do, but I only learnt it recently. As you can see…” He picked up the remaining football with his hand. “I need more practice, but it could be really useful.”

Valerie hummed. “You could use it to get people out of the way of debris, or stop the debris in midair.”

“That’s exactly why I want to perfect this skill.”

Valerie’s mind flashed back to Danny supporting the collapsing building, and she understood fully how important learning this new power was to him.

The two entered the classroom after a somewhat leisurely flight in the direction of the classroom and a stop in a closet to change out of their suit, and into their human form respectively. Mr Lancer stopped his lecture as the door opened, and every head in the room swiveled round to face the late duo.

“Mr Foley and Miss Manson already explained,” Mr Lancer said. “You can speak to me after class if there’s anything you need to catch up on that you missed in your absence.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer.” Danny kept his head down as he made his way over to his seat, which of course had to be practically in the middle of the classroom. He could feel almost every eye in the room boring into his head as he settled down and brought out his books and pencil case. Chatter erupted amongst the students, and Mr Lancer sighed in defeat, knowing that having a ghost hunting ghost as a classmate had not lost its novelty with all the news coverage.

“How’d it go?” Sam asked, leaning over from her seat, taking advantage of the sudden stop to the lesson.

“Fine, it was just the Box Ghost,” Danny dismissed.

“And Valerie was fine?” she hissed, barely over a whisper.

“Yeah, she seems fine with the whole Phantom thing,” Danny replied in a very slightly louder voice, if only so Sam could hear him (she didn’t have the luxury of super-hearing). “She was kinda shocked by the feeling of intangibility, but it’s not a big deal.”

Sam shivered involuntarily. “I can understand that,” she said, still wary of the ghost hunting girl but willing to put aside her hostility and protectiveness for now.

The lesson continued as per usual after Mr Lancer managed to get control of the class again with a cry of “The Adventures of Huck Finn” and continued with his lecture. They didn’t actually finish all the work from that lesson before lunch, but it was good going considering the circumstances.

Lunch was a whole other challenge for Team Phantom, and the trio chose to bag lunch it outside out of fear of being mobbed.

“Dead Teacher 2 is still the best,” Danny said, leaning against the tree they were sat under, mouth half full.

Sam quickly chastised him for talking with his mouth full, before arguing to the contrary, saying that the 1st movie was the best without a doubt.

“I’m with Danny,” Tucker contributed to the conversation, “the second movie was really where they perfected it. Oh, hey Valerie!”

“Hi,” greeted Valerie, walking towards the group, lunch bag clasped close to her body. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Sam and Tucker shuffled around to allow her into their circle, and she seated herself on the grass. “So, uh, what’re you guys talking about?”

“Which Dead Teacher movie’s the best,” Sam supplied. “These two think that the second’s the best, even though the first’s obviously better.”

“I haven’t watched the latest ones, but the first one is definitely better than the second.” Valerie opened her bag and fished out a sandwich.

“Betrayal!” Tucker exclaimed, mock fainting with his arm to his forehead.

Sam punched him lightly on his lowered arm, which prompted a cry from the boy. He rubbed his arm and shot her a playful glare, which she returned, complete with a grin.

Valerie observed their antics, somehow feeling like there was more of a sense of unity between her and the trio now that their secrets were out in the open.

“Oh, yeah, Val,” Danny said, sitting up straight. “How’d you like to join Team Phantom?”

“That’s your team name?” She raised an eyebrow and Danny just shrugged. “Sure, but that’ll take some explaining as to why I’m working with you.”

Danny waved off her concerns. “It’ll be fine. We can just say we talked if anyone asks.”

Valerie shook her head mockingly. “How the hell did you keep your secret for as long as you did?”

“We’re pretty sure it was just dumb luck,” interjected Tucker, “emphasis on dumb.”

“What was dumb luck?” an obnoxiously loud voice came from the direction of the school building, and Dash Baxter and his cronies approached them.

The trio tensed, ready for a confrontation, only for Dash to raise his hands in a sign of peace. He suddenly looked a lot smaller, nerves showing through his veneer of toughness.

“I’m sorry, for everything I’ve done to you. If I’d known I was bullying my hero…” Dash’s eyes remained fixed on the ground, inspecting the blades of grass with a pitiful expression, like they’d personally killed his family, which in Amity Park wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’d happened.

“We’re all sorry, dude. We couldn’t’ve known that you were-” one of the cronies was cut off by Danny.

“I forgive you, but you should bully anyone in the first place.” Danny folded his arms, looking at each of them in turn with a forced hard expression. It really looked odd on his baby face, but Dash and co seemed intimidated nonetheless.

They muttered between each other, before turning to face Danny again with guilty expressions. “We’ll try not to,” Dash said, and Danny unfolded his arms.

“Can you leave us alone?” Valerie demanded, not even trying to hide her hostility.

The bully gang exchanged glances before returning to the main building.

“I can’t believe you’d forgive them just like that. You know they only apologised because you’re Phantom, right?” Val scolded, and Danny looked like a wounded puppy at her words.

“I know, but I don’t want to be a douche,” Danny shrunk back from her.

Sam snorted. “What he’s trying to say is that he doesn’t hold grudges, even when he should, and forgives far to easily, like he’d trying to be some sort of paragon.” Danny scowled.

The rest of the day passed largely uneventfully, if you ignored the frequent whispers, nervous faces and admirers coming to apologise to Danny, thank him, or ask how he got superpowers - something that he declined to answer fully, leading to word quickly spreading that people should stop asking about that because it was rude to ask how a ghost died, which wasn’t entirely wrong, just not the whole reason for why it was a touchy subject for Danny.

All in all, it wasn’t half as bad as Danny had been expecting. It was actually somewhat anticlimactic in his opinion.

He sent a brief text, saying that he was going to talk to Mr Lancer because he missed some of the lesson, to his parents and knocked on the classroom door.

Mr Lancer answered the door, smiling at the halfa. “Daniel. Can I help you?”

Danny shuffled his feet. “Uh, I kinda wanted to catch up on the stuff I missed at the start of your lesson. Why did Arthur Conan Doyle have a recap at the start of the chapter?”

His teacher smiled, and invited him into the classroom, where Danny seated himself at the front of the empty classroom. “The Sherlock Holmes stories were initially serialized in magazines, each chapter in a different magazine, before they were compiled into complete books, so he would frequently recap the story for the sake of readers who may have forgotten the events of the previous chapters.”

Danny nodded, and took notes in his workbook.

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask?” Mr Lancer continued as Danny put his book back in his bag.

“No thanks,” Danny said, zipping up his bag. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, Danny,” Mr Lancer replied. “How was your first day back at school?”

“A lot better than I expected. I think I’ll be fine here.”

“That’s certainly good to hear.”

Danny made for the door, only to stop when Lancer called out to him. “And remember, my door’s always open if you need to talk.”

“Thanks Mr Lancer.” Danny radiated a cool warmth from his beaming features. “Bye, see you tomorrow.”

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny phantom #my writing #i'm planning to do at least 1 more short fic and 1 really long one before the end of the phight

92 notes · View notes

bibliophilea · 5 years

Text

Inhuman

For the Phic Phight 2019, organized by @currently-lurking and @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter.

ao3 | ffn

Prompt: "Danny realizes that the more he uses his ghost powers the less human he becomes." - @marshmallowmayhem

Word count: 552

Danny needs to remind himself to breathe.

He hasn't needed to for a while, but it's good to keep up appearances. He doesn't want his classmates and teachers to notice. But more importantly, he doesn't want his family to notice. Or Sam and Tucker to notice.

And he likes the feeling of his diaphragm stretching, pulling air into his lungs. He likes the rush of air traveling through his nasal passages and down his throat and bronchial tubes to fill his lungs. He likes to breathe – so sue him.

But he doesn't always remember to breathe.

Danny rarely has a heartbeat.

He remembers when it would beat quickly when he was nervous, or angry, or anticipating the pain to come from another ghost fight.

He remembers when he would place his hand against his chest – reassure himself that he was still human, despite these powers telling him otherwise, despite the fact that he doesn't need to breathe.

Not anymore.

Danny's heart hasn't beaten in a while. He wonders dully if the last beat was the final beat, and he just didn't notice.

lub

dub

Nope. There it goes. 15 minutes between beats now, the beats slow and sluggish, almost painful in their lethargy. He instinctively puts a hand to his chest, but it's too late. The beat has gone.

He takes a breath, although he doesn't need to.

Then he puts on a smile and waves to Sam and Tucker, crossing the street to meet them.

Danny can't eat normal food.

It's bland, and it tastes like cardboard, and he vomits it up a half an hour later.

And afterwards, he is so hungry.

It takes him a week to figure it out – and only then because his parents left the lab door open. The smell wafts from the doorway, and he is entranced. He can't help himself as he drifts down the stairs – can't help himself as he floats to the nearest table, to the nearest beaker bubbling green.

He can't help himself when his hands reach out, shaking as they grasp the beaker, ectoplasm sloshing onto his fingers. It only stings a little, but not enough to break him from his trance.

It stings on the way down his throat, too, but he doesn't mind – for the first time in weeks, he feels the hunger abate. When the beaker's empty, he grabs a flask, and then a series of test tubes – and before he knows it, he's cleared the whole table, and he finally feels full.

Danny wonders how it got this way – how he became so... inhuman.

He holds a glowing ball of ectoplasm in his human hands. Once upon a time, the ectoplasm would have burned and blistered his fingers, his palms. Once upon a time, he wouldn't have been able to summon this much ectoplasm as a human in the first place.

He scoffs. Human. He doesn't need to breathe. His heart doesn't beat. He can't eat food unless it's infused with ectoplasm, and even then the food is half-tasteless – he may as well eat the ectoplasm directly. It's not like he hasn't done it before.

He isn't human. No matter how hard he tries to be.

He hasn't been human for a long time.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom fanfiction #danny #my write #my work #i hope you like this #not a q

66 notes · View notes

reallydumbdannyphantomfics · 5 years

Link

AFTER 8000 YEARS I AM FINALLY DONE

This is for @lunagalemaster‘s Phic Phight prompt: “Phriendship or Pitch Pearl- After very long and heartfelt discussions, Fenton and Phantom decided that they would live their lives as their own people. Years later, Fenton has grown up, but Phantom is still 14.” (I took a LOT of liberties with this prompt, so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted.)

My team leader is @currently-lurking.

Word count: 11824

TW: death

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #Danny Phantom #pitch pearl #void writes #notabadfic

67 notes · View notes

gottacatchghosts · 5 years

Text

Frame by Frame

This is for Phic Phight 2019! I’m on Team Human, with team leader @currently-lurking!

Prompt: As a result of having a time medallion phased into him, Danny begins to exhibit time powers.

Word count: 3360

Prompt by: @five-rivers

Characters: Danny, Jazz, Clockwork (Sam and Tucker, briefly)

Warnings: none that come to mind, unless you don’t like pseudosciencey stuff lol

Extra notes: this was a fun prompt omg

[writing tag] | [Phic Phight 2019 tag] | [My fills] | [fic index]

FFN/AO3 links to come following the end of the event.

There’s something wrong with Danny.

Well, wrong isn’t the best word to use. Weird is more appropriate, but really, what about Danny isn’t weird these days? But still, something is wrong and Danny has no idea what it is.

Ever since that incident with that alternate future, Danny’s felt off, off balance, off kilter, fundamentally changed in a way that has nothing to do with the trauma of seeing almost everyone he’s ever cared for caught in a fiery explosion. (That part doesn’t bother him at all, no really, honest.)

It didn’t even have to do with seeing that abomination with his name and his face claiming to be him. Ten years from now is so obscure to his fourteen-year-old mind that even the thought of being twenty-four is enough to separate him from the “could-be”s.

No, it’s something else entirely. Something Danny can’t put his finger on.

It was little things at first. Things that didn’t stand out as wrong at the time, but in hindsight it feels obvious that something happened. Little things like the shower never running cold despite standing under the spray for longer than usual, like finishing his homework before dinner even though he was sure that he’d be working on it the rest of the night, like how he’s been on time getting to class every day this week even when there’s a ghost encounter on the way to school.

Danny tries to tell Sam and Tucker. Tries to tell them that he thinks something’s wrong, that something is up, but they just brush it off.

“Maybe you got lucky with the shower?” Tucker suggests.

“You’re smarter than you think you are!” Sam assures.

“You’ve gotten so kickass with your powers dude!” Tucker crows, pumping his fists with a grin.

“Have you been leaving earlier? That might explain it,” Sam points out, shrugging it off.

Danny doesn’t believe he’s just gotten lucky or smarter or stronger, but he smiles and nods along with them, saying, “Yeah. That must be it. Sorry for being so weird about this.”

“It’s not a problem, Danny! You’re probably still a little out of it from having to kick your jerky older self’s butt.” Tucker puts a hand on Danny’s shoulder, nodding sagely.

Sam hip checks him and smiles back. “Don’t be afraid to tell us if something’s happening!”

Danny laughs. “I won’t!”

He keeps the oddities to himself after that.

For the next few months, nothing really changes. Life goes on, ghosts still attack, Danny’s grades slowly but surely pull up into the low A high B range they’d been the first couple weeks of high school, and still Sam and Tucker find nothing wrong with this strange new turn of events.

Jazz, however, once she finally joins the team and she and Danny go back to getting along, is more willing to listen to him when he says he thinks something is happening.

She pulls him into her room one day after driving him home from school and shoves him into her desk chair. She then pulls out a notebook and sits on her bed, giving him her full attention. “What do you think is happening?” she asks, cutting straight to the point.

Danny shrugs and rubs his arms. “I don’t know, really. It’s not like it’s been just one thing. It’s like a bunch of little things that all add up and point to the same thing, except I don’t even know if they do. I wanna just accept whatever it is, but the problem is that I don’t know what it is.”

Jazz nods and jots down some notes. “And how long as this been going on?”

Danny hesitates and looks away. “Since the, uh, since the CATs.”

Jazz pauses her note taking and glances at him over the top of the notebook. “The CATs?” She bites her lip and looks back down. “Does this have anything to do with… you-know-who?”

Danny sighs and leans back in the chair, throwing his head back. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

The room is quiet for a few minutes before Jazz shifts to the side and pats the bed beside her. After a moment’s hesitation, Danny joins her and together the two flop backwards on the bed to look at the ceiling.

“What exactly happened?” Jazz asks, voice soft. “I know you somehow swapped places with that older future guy and got stuck in his time, but how did that happen?”

Danny groans and shoves his hands into his eyes. “After Sam, Tuck, and I jumped through this portal in Clockwork’s lair into that timeline, we ran into Future Valerie, and then he showed up and started attacking everyone. Sam and Tuck got out of there by taking off their time medallion things—they ended up back here in Amity like nothing happened. But.” Danny’s voice dies and he moves his hands to lay them at his side.

“But?” Jazz prompts, nudging him with her elbow.

“He phased the time medallion into my chest,” Danny says. He puts a hand over his breast bone and stares at the ceiling, eyes far away. “Just stuck it right in there. I don’t remember much right after that, just that I somehow ended up in the Ghost Zone, tied up and floating aimlessly.”

“How’d you get it out?” Jazz asks, voice little more than a whisper. She rolls over to face him and links an arm with one of his, a steady, calming anchor.

Danny tenses up, slight enough that she wouldn’t have noticed without physical contact. She squeezes his arm in an attempt to be reassuring and the hand resting on his chest slides over to sit over hers. “Vlad.” Danny looks at her from the corners of his eyes. He still has that thousand yard stare but a little bit of life creeps back into his eyes as he takes in the surprise on her face. “I found where he was hiding and got him to help pull it out.”

Jazz takes note of the finality in his voice and gracefully sweeps past the subject. She can ask him about it later. “And you came back here after that?”

“Yeah. And then I really only had enough time to grab some of Mom and Dad’s ghost gear before I had to fight him off.” Danny sighs. “I didn’t really win. Sure, I got him in a Thermos, but you guys all still…” His voice dies and her clears his throat. Jazz won’t make him say what happened. She knows he still has nightmares about it and she has a pretty good idea of what happened. “Clockwork stopped it. Reversed time, saved everyone, took the Thermos, gave me a second chance.”

“And how soon after did this Something start happening?”

“Pretty much right after.” Danny runs a hand through his bangs and closes his eyes, thinking back. “After I gave Lancer the test answers back, I went home and crashed in bed for a while. It felt like forever but it was only a couple hours.” Jazz nods and sits up to grab her notebook. She makes a few quick notes and Danny waits until her frantic scribbling slows to a stop. She gestures for him to continue and he tells her what he told Sam and Tucker.

He tells her about the shower and the homework and the suddenly improved grades and attendance and she listens, more so than Tucker and Sam ever did. It doesn’t surprise him at all, really. Jazz has always been the type to stop and listen, even if she does have her moments of single mindedness. Even if this really does turn out to be nothing, he’s glad he’s got Jazz on his side to figure it out.

When he’s done explaining his concerns, she pauses and reads over her notes again. She purses her lips and lowers the notebook, giving Danny an expectant look. “Have you talked to Clockwork about this?”

That gives Danny pause. “About what?”

Jazz levels him with a look of absolute certainty. “It sounds to me like you’re gaining time.”

“Wait, what?” Danny throws himself upright so he can be at eye level with Jazz. “Explain.”

“That, or you’re slowing it down.” Jazz nods once herself and waves a hand up and down, from his head to his feet and back. “From what you told me, it sounds like you could be slowing down time.”

“That’s crazy,” Danny mumbles, crossing his arms. “Clockwork controls time. I can’t do anything like that.”

“Not before, you couldn’t.” Jazz raises a brow. “Think about it. You were fused to one of those time medallions for who knows how long and you couldn’t just take it out on your own. Who’s to say that you didn’t pick up some kind of temporal power?”

Danny squints at her for her use of the word “temporal,” but considers her words. “Maybe,” he says slowly, thinking aloud. “The time medallions allowed us to move outside of time. Whenever Clockwork froze time, if we had one of them on, we could still move around and stuff. And then when we were in the future, and when those future ghosts attacked this time, the medallions allowed us to stay there. Taking them off sent us, and them, home.” He presses his lips together. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You should talk to Clockwork,” Jazz says in between her notetaking. “I don’t think I can help you with this anymore.”

Danny reaches and puts his hand on hers, stilling her writing. Jazz looks up and he smiles at her. “You’ve already helped a lot. Thanks, Jazz.”

Jazz smiles back. “Anytime.”

Clockwork’s citadel is hard to find and Danny suspects the only reason he can is because Clockwork allows it. Danny’s never seen the outside of it before, but the giant floating cogs and gears make it pretty obvious he’s found the right place. The place looks like a cross between a grandfather clock and a castle and Danny has a nice chuckle at the tasteful scythes adorning some of the roofs.

The double doors at the base of the tower creak open and Danny pauses for a moment. He half expects Clockwork to greet him outside, but he’s equally unsurprised when nothing happens. He floats through the doors and ignores the way they close behind him in favor of seeking out Clockwork himself. Clockwork has to know that Danny was coming, being the all-seeing and all-knowing Master of Time, so Danny doesn't feel too bad about just barging in.

After all, the doors were open.

Danny comes to a stop in front of Clockwork’s viewing screens, too nosy for his own good and not completely looking forward to the conversation he knows the two of them are going to have. They show ordinary, mundane scenes of many different people—and ghosts—going about their lives, oblivious to any unseen watchers.

“Everything is as it should be,” Clockwork says from behind Danny, startling the boy several feet higher than he’d previously been floating.

“Clockwork!” Danny says, spinning around and lowering himself to be closer to eye level.

“Hello, Danny.” Clockwork cracks the barest hint of a smile and Danny rolls his eyes. “Come,” Clockwork says, waving Danny over as he turns and floats off. “We have much to discuss.”

Danny follows quickly, turning his head to catch a glimpse of the row of Time Medallions hanging on a rack near the portal screens. He shudders once and looks away.

Clockwork leads him through several archways to a library full of different types of texts; scrolls, stone tablets, and the oldest books Danny’s ever seen all line the walls and crowd the towering shelves. Clockwork gestures to a small nook with several cozy looking couches and nods, encouraging him to sit.

Danny hovers over to the nearest overstuffed arm chair and allows himself to fall into it, giving it to the artificial gravity of the Zone. It’s a comfy chair, just like he’d hoped it would be and he can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. Clockwork sits on the chair opposite his and waits, giving Danny a chance to mentally prepare himself for their talk.

Eventually, Clockwork clears his throat to catch Danny’s full attention. “I know you’re nervous, but do try to relax.” Danny huffs, somewhere between amusement and exasperation, then Clockwork continues. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed the temporal abnormalities you’ve been experiencing.”

“So…” Danny’s brow furrows. “It is a time thing?”

“Correct.” Clockwork smiles at the boy. “I’m afraid your experiences with the timestream have had… an unforeseen outcome.”

“‘Unforeseen?’” Danny echoes, bolting upright. “I thought you saw everything!”

Clockwork gives a slight grimace. “As the Master of Time, I have the unique privilege of experiencing time like an outsider. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always extend to myself, or anything existing outside of time.” Clockwork reaches into his cloak and produces a Time Medallion. “Wearing these allows someone to temporarily displace themself anywhere in the timestream and instantly return as soon is it is removed.

“They’re not made to become a part of one’s person.” Clockwork outright frowns. “When this Medallion was fused to you, it lost some of its potency.” He passes it over to Danny and the boy frowns as he inspects it. “The medallions make the wearer immune to my ability to totally stop time by placing them, technically, outside of time.”

“So what does that mean for me?” Danny asks, looking back up at Clockwork.

“It means, Danny, that your sister was correct. You’ve developed an immunity of sorts to the normal flow of time, becoming something of a human Time Medallion. I’m unaware as of yet how far this power will extend, but if I’m correct, the ability will only be limited to yourself and whatever is on your person, including anyone you may be in direct contact with.”

Danny blinks several times, processing the words. “That’s actually kinda cool.”

Clockwork allows himself a small chuckle. “Because of this slight immunity to time, you also appear to be exhibiting some temporal displacement abilities, the ‘gaining time’ that Jazz mentioned. What this means is that time moves much more slowly around you while allowing you move freely and as normal. From an outside perspective, one might say that you look to be moving at high speeds.”

Danny nods as he turns the words over in his head. “When you say that you can’t always see things that exist outside of time, does that mean you can’t, like, watch over me? Since I have the immunity?”

“I can see you just fine the majority of the time, don’t worry,” Clockwork says, waving off the concern written on Danny’s face. “When you use your powers, it’s like looking through a fog. The image becomes distorted and blurred, but then it clears up again.”

“I didn’t even know I was using them.”

Clockwork nods and smirks. “Control will come with time.” Danny snorts, and relaxes a little. “Have you noticed anything in common with the incidents?”

Danny thinks, pushing a fist against his chin. “Uh… They all seemed to times when I wanted… more… time…” He trails off, eyes wide. “Wow. I wanted more time in the shower, I wanted my homework done faster, I wanted to be on time for school… and then it all happened.” Danny cracks a grin. “That’s pretty useful.”

“Indeed.” Clockwork looks Danny in the eyes. “I just want to impart with you the importance of not abusing an ability like this. Time is a powerful thing.” Danny nods, completely serious. “That said,” Clockwork grins again, “I cannot stop you from using it to your leisure.”

Danny laughs. “So, what, exactly, can I do with… whatever I’m supposed to call this?”

“What you call it is up to you. What I can tell you is that a power like yours has limits, and you can rest easy with the knowledge that your temporal powers are no where as powerful as mine. You cannot stop the flow of time completely, nor can you reverse it or speed it up. Your power is limited to only slightly and temporarily slowing down time for yourself. That’s it.”

“That’s still pretty awesome,” Danny says, gazing at the Medallion in his hands again. “Hey, wait. You said I’m kinda like one of these things, right? Does that mean you can’t freeze me in time anymore?”

Clockwork blinks, expression flat. With no warning, he raises his staff and says, “Time Out!”

Danny suddenly feels like he’s underwater or submerged in something thick and viscous. He blinks, ever so slowly and moves his head up, inch by inch to look at Clockwork. Before he can say anything, Clockwork moves—and he’s fast, so fast, like he’s dropping frames to snap into new positions without any movement between them—and then Danny is free from the heavy feeling. “That was weird,” is all he says.

Clockwork nods. “It appears I can no longer stop you completely, and you can move under your own power ever so slightly. From my perspective, it was as if you were moving in slow motion.”

Danny throws his head back and laughs, the idea that the crazy powerful Master of Time being unable to control him completely being too hilarious to pass up. Clockwork rolls his eyes—though it’s hard to tell without a pupil—but allows Danny to ride out his amusement.

“I feel you have another question for me,” Clockwork prods, drawing Danny back to the present.

Danny nods, rubbing a tear from his eye. “Yeah, just one.” He holds up the Medallion and asks, “How did this give me time powers?”

“Danny, how much do you know about how ghosts work?”

Danny shrugs. “Not a whole lot. I know ghosts are made of ectoplasm and that ectoplasm is kinda everywhere, but I don’t really know how much of what I heard Mom and Dad talking about growing up is true.”

Clockwork nods. “Ghosts are, indeed, made of ectoplasm, and ectoplasm can exist in many different types and forms, including raw energy. At the center of every ghost exists what is known as a Core. A Core is the purest essence of a ghost and where the most powerful abilities and attacks originate. I won’t get into the types of Cores for now, but I will tell you that there are seven elemental types, two incorporeal types, and then an additional, unspecialized type.”

Danny nods, eyes wide. “Do I have a Core?”

“Yes, you do.” Clockwork points at the center of Danny’s chest, just right of his heart. “And it because you possess a Core that the Medallion had such an effect on you.”

“Wha—really? How?” Danny presses a hand against his chest, along his breast bone, and he can almost imagine his feels a thrumming pulse he never noticed before.

“When the Medallion interacted with your Core, some of the energy that infused with the Medallion was absorbed by your Core. Whether it was self-preservation to protect you from the foreign object, a subconscious absorption of power, or a result of your Core still developing, some of the Medallion’s powers were leeched off and into you. Over time, this new energy and ability has settled in your Core and it has become a part of you.”

“When it was still stuck in here, I learned how to use my Wail. And even though I felt tired afterward, I could still keep going. Would that have made a difference?” Danny tilts his head in question. “Or was it just because I was in the Zone?”

“It could have been both.” Clockwork thinks it over for a second. “That’s likely when the strongest transfer of power happened. The Medallion fed you some of its energy to recover what you used in your attack.”

“Weird.” Danny stretches in his seat, considering everything that he’s learned. It takes him several minutes to sort through his thoughts, but then he looks up at Clockwork, eyes glowing brightly in determination. “Teach me how to control it.”

Clockwork smiles and takes to the air again. “It would be my pleasure.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #dp fanfic #fanfic #my fills pp19 #kiera writes fics #danny #jazz #clockwork #mentioned characters

47 notes · View notes

sapphireswimming · 5 years

Text

@currently-lurking I finished something for the Phic Phight woo!

@going-dead thanks for having such a fun prompt: Danny is off to college, leaving Vlad in charge of keeping ghosts out of Amity park. (934 words)

Vlad’s phone was on his office desk, carefully lying atop a pile of confidential papers in easy reach, though he would have denied having intentionally kept it there had anyone mentioned it.

He was in the middle of budget re-forecasting for Dalv’s fiscal year end when it started to buzz. He felt it before he heard the ringtone.

His hand was on it before the first ring had even ended, but then he stopped, paused, controlled himself. Took a moment to lounge back in the high backed office chair and finally flipped the phone open after the fifth ring.

“Yes?” he asked, although he knew exactly who was on the other end.

“Hey, Vlad,” Danny greeted, a little too cheerfully.

Vlad scowled at the smirk in the kid’s voice, but smoothed it over before any of it could leak out. “Ah, Daniel,” he purred as if the call was a surprise. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Danny huffed a laugh, knowing full well that Vlad knew exactly why he was calling. “Yeah, okay,” he chuckled. “I’ve got a couple minutes between classes so I’m calling for an update.”

When Vlad didn’t immediately reply, Danny continued, “So how about it, Fruitloop? The city still standing?”

“Yes, of course, the city’s standing,” Vlad said, failing to keep the edge out of his voice.

Danny grinned. “Well, you know, I had to check. It’s been an entire week since the last time you told me you were taking care of things.” “And nothing’s changed.” “Uh huh,” Danny said, somewhat dubiously. “No mass breakouts from the portal? No ghosts terrorizing the town?”

“No more than usual,” he said dryly. “No casualties, though?” Danny pressed.

“No, Daniel,” he replied evenly. “Everything’s fine.”

“No major possessions or takeover attempts?”

“I’m the mayor of Amity Park,” Vlad cut in. “Do you really think there’s any way I’d let anyone, dead or alive, take it over from me?”

“…point,” Danny finally muttered. “But seriously, there’s nothing that-“

“Nothing has exploded while you were in baby bio,” Vlad sighed. “We had an agreement and nothing’s changed. The city’s fine. The people are fine. And given the state I can only imagine your grades to be in, I’d say it would be a much better use of your time to, oh, say, crack open one of your textbooks instead of calling me.”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something on the other side of the line.

Vlad drummed his fingers along the edge of his desk. “Your break’s coming up in a few weeks,” he finally said.

“What, you’re creeping on my schedule now?”

“The academic calendar is public information. It can hardly be considered creeping to know when the college’s fall break is scheduled,” he said, and Danny had to agree. “Knowing your detailed class schedule from the Registrar’s office would be a different story entirely,” he trailed off suggestively, “but the question still stands,” he continued before Danny could sputter in indignation.

“What question? You didn’t ask a question. And are you seriously – wait. Do you have my class schedule?” he asked, voice rising. “Do you actually know my grades?”

Vlad ignored him. “Fall break,” he said, getting back on track. “What are your plans? Will you be returning to Amity Park?” he asked, hoping he struck a tone with the levels of disinterestedness he was looking for.

From the sudden grin in Danny’s voice, though, it didn’t sound like he had asked the question neutrally enough.

“Why?” Danny asked slyly. “You want me back that badly? What, protecting the city wasn’t as easy as you expected it to be, huh? That it?”

Vlad put a hand to his temple. “I was merely inquiring as to whether I had to endure this ordeal in person within the next few weeks or if I was to expect continued interruptions to my busy schedule—”

“Oh please,” Danny said. “Like that’s actually why you’re asking. But yes, if you wanted to know so badly, I am coming home over break. But I’m not fighting any ghosts while I’m back,” he was quick to emphasize. “It’s break. Which is still covered in our deal, so don’t even think about getting out of it while I’m back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Vlad rolled his eyes.

“I’m supposed to be on break. And write papers and stuff. Normal college student stuff,” Danny said again.

Vlad opened his mouth for a biting comment about how normal his college experience had turned out, but was interrupted by movement on Danny’s end.

“Okay, anyway, I have to go. Class is about to start. But you better do your job right because I’ll be calling again in a couple days to make sure,” he said as if it were a threat even though he was undoubtedly weaving his way through a throng of students getting to class before it began.

“I can’t wait,” Vlad deadpanned, and flipped the phone shut before Daniel could terminate the call from his end.

He slipped the phone back into a pocket and rubbed at his eyes.

Really, he couldn’t decide if it was more of a hassle to protect the residents of Amity Park from any wayward ghosts that managed to make their way out of the portal past his guards or assure Daniel that all was well and he wasn’t entirely incompetent at any of his many jobs.

Speaking of which… he sighed, and pulled up the next in a long list of excel files he needed to comb over before the day was out.

“Kids,” he muttered.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #danny fenton #vlad masters #currently lurking #going dead #team human #thanks again so much for pulling this together #it's turned into such a great event #sorry I haven't been able to do more #had grand aspirations but april turned out to be such an awful month ahaha #but going dead I hope you enjoy this! thanks for the prompt!!#fanfiction #mine #ss

38 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 5 years

Text

You Can’t Keep A Phantom In Mind - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @kinglazrus Prompt: After getting hit by his parent’s newest invention, Danny discovers he is trapped in Phantom form and can’t change back. Summary: Danny is hard on peoples brains and he’s not ok with that.

Warning: mild angst

“Uh dude, what the fuck are you doing?”, Tucker asks as he and Sam walk up to Danny Phantom, not Fenton, opening his locker door. Danny turns to them, “my parents happened that’s what, this is the last semester of school and I’ve decided I’m just fucking done. But you know what’s fucked? No one has even batted a damn eyelash, no double takes; nothing. Not even Valerie has called me out”. Sam and Tucker look around the hallway and notice that he’s right, “Wow, this is kind of sad actually”. Danny nods at Sam, “I don’t even know if they just think I’m in costume for no reason or if I have some weirdass affect on people”.

Danny flings his bag over his shoulder and the trio walk to class. On the way there Dash walks up, “hey Fen-”, Dash cuts himself off as he tilts his head at Danny. Blinking a few times and shaking his head, Dash just walks away. “Ok what the fuck”, Danny flat out glares at Dash’s back as he goes up to Dash. Stepping in front of Dash, “did you have a fucking aneurism or something, Dash?”. Dash shrugs awkwardly, “I don’t know dude, I just really don’t want to hit you now. Somethings up with you I think”. Danny just gapes at Dash as he walks off, turning to Tucker, “you have got to be fucking me”. Tucker just shrugs as they rush off to class.

Lancer looks at Danny only once as he enters, he raises an eyebrow but shakes his head. Danny at this point just wants someone to damn call him out, so he doesn’t even bother grounding himself; just floats a bit above his chair and lets his hair float about. By the end of class Danny is just writing his notes with telekinesis instead of his hands, while Tucker and Sam both gape at both him and the rest of the class. As the bell rings Tucker leans over Danny’s shoulder, “dude what?”. Danny shrugs, “I really have no fucking clue dude, but I am so taking to Mr. Lancer. That guy won’t lie to me and he honestly is rather trustworthy”. Sam sighs as she drags Tucker out, “well whatever’s going on, it would have been nice to know this along time ago”. Danny nods at them as they go, before making his way up to Mr. Lancer.

“So, I know I’m not the most forthcoming student but do you have the slightest clue why the hell you and the rest of the school haven’t called me out on my appearance?”, Danny leans his hip against the teachers desk, making a show of being non-threatening. Lancer shuffles around some of his papers and studies Danny’s appearance before answering, “well, it’s hard to describe Daniel. As soon as I look away from you I just forget. Then when I am looking it’s hard to even think about it. I’m aware but not quite sure what’s going on with you. I’m curious but not enough to actually ask”. Danny shakes his head, “that’s insane, explains so damn much though”. Mr. Lancer shakes his head and blinks a bit, “now Daniel I know you have other classes as do I so, if I’ve satisfied your question you should get along”. Walking out Danny looks back at him, “Uh, thanks I guess”.

Catching up with Tucker in his next class, “so dude, what’d he say?”. Danny shakes his head and laughs, “apparently he literally forgets when not looking at me and can’t even think about it when he is. Completely fucking absurd and I feel like I’m fucking mind controlling people in mass”. Tucker slaps his back, “fucking sweet man, new power!”. Danny rolls his eyes, “something tells me this isn’t new and dude, it’s fucking invasive not cool. I’m quite literally fucking with peoples heads”. Tucker just rolls his eyes as class starts.

During lunch, Dash walks up to their table fully intending to dump his tray on Danny but just stops when he sees him. The trio watch as Dash opens and closes his mouth a few times and just walks away, “wow dude, anti-bully magic boy, that’s what you are”. Danny slugs him, “it’s still fucking wrong, but I won’t deny it’s handy. I seriously hope this works with my parents”. Sam sighs, knowing how Danny is, “of course you of all people would be bothered, Danny. But I think this is good, just like everything else. Don’t abuse it. You’ve got a reason today, so chill”. Danny just shrugs awkwardly as the bell goes off.

In fifth period Skulker shows up in class, everyone but Danny books it out of there and Skulker stops short of shooting Danny, “Uh whelp I’m not one to question your ways but this seems rather reckless even for you”. Skulker moves his hand up and down Danny’s Phantom form as Danny snickers, “turns out I’ve got some mind control shit, none of them can actually really tell or remember how I look right now”. Danny chuckles as he shoots Skulker, “I really should pay more attention to my parents shit before I touch it”. Danny just shrugs as he lets Skulker pelt him with an ectobomb. While Danny fires back Skulker replies, “you are very reckless ghost child, but that ability is quite impressive. You’re even more desirable now!”. Danny laughs as he kicks Skulkers head off, “I’m starting to think you actually have a thing for me”. Skulkers scowls at Danny as Danny sucks him into his thermos. Danny just shrugs as he straight up phases through the walls and floats into sixth class to avoid being late.

Star, who sits next to him, jumps and then looks completely puzzled, “can you run really fast or something? Where’d you even come from?”. Danny sighs and rubs his temple, muttering “god this is a mindfuck, literally”, then turning to Star, “came from fifth class”. Star just nods and accepts this answer.

Danny has final period with Lancer again and he can’t help but feel sorry for him. Lancer has made a habit over the past years to stare at him to make sure he’s paying attention and that is resulting in a lot of rapid blinking and head shaking today. Danny mutters to himself, “he’s going to give himself neck cramps at this point”.

Halfway through class there’s another ghost attack, this time it’s some animalistic ghost. Danny just sighs, throws a pencil at it, and slowly floats over to it; while everyone but Lancer flees, since he’s more or less pinned by the ghost. Inches from the ghost face Danny blasts it point blank with an ectobeam. He’s sighs as he pulls out his thermos and sucks in the ghost. Turning to Mr. Lancer, “ok I’m probably going to give you an aneurism or something if I don’t explain, huh?”. Lancer looks from where the ghost was to Danny, who’s floating a solid 2 feet off the ground and just nods. “Kay well, Phantom Fenton, same person. I’m not all dead just halfway there, halfas the word”, Danny watches as Mr. Lancer blinks once and tilts his head before going wide-eyed, “I, wow, so this is what’s been so weird about today. Well this certainly explains a lot Daniel, though I would hope you’re aren’t just walking around school like this to mess with peoples head”. Danny shakes his head as he plants his feet on the ground, “no, I didn’t even know I could have this sorta mind control effect on people. Basically one of my parents things pretty much turned off my ability to change back to Fenton for 24 hours. Not happy about it but I pretty much decided, screw it and didn’t bother even trying to hide it”. Danny helps Mr. Lancer get off the ground, “well I’m glad you help people Daniel but maybe you should be more careful”. Danny just shrugs as he waves goodbye to Mr. Lancer. Lancer shakes his head at the now empty doorway, “I think my most disappointing child became the one I’m proudest of”. Shaking his head as he goes to sit down and stares at Daniels unfinished assignment with a small smile.

“So Mr. Lancer knows now”, Sam and Tucker both look at Danny like he’s lost his mind. “Dude, what the hell?”, Tucker is the first to speak up. “Tucker I literally shot an animal ghost in front of him while floating, and I’m pretty sure his mind was already melting or some shit before then”, Danny rolls his eyes at Tucker. Sam shakes her head, “pretty sure his brain would’ve been fine you self-sacrificing dumbass”. Danny shrugs as he waves goodbye to them.

Looking to his house door he takes a deep breath and assumes that if he just acts normal the mind thing will work. But at the same time, it’s been years and he’s kind of just done; specially when it comes to hiding from his parents. Pushing the door open, “I’m home! What’s for supper?”. Maddie sticks her head around the door and squints at Danny, who just smiles at her, “Uh, hmm, it’s Spaghetti...Danny?”. She says his name like it’s a question, which in a sense it was, “yeah it’s me and spaghetti is good, uh. Is there like, anything? You want to ask?”. Maddie scratches her head while staring at him, she eventual pulls down her goggles and then lifts them up, then down, then up. Which is confusing the hell out of Danny, “okay? I think I have a question first, what are you doing?”. Maddie blinks, takes off her goggles and shakes her head at them before looking to Danny, “I can’t tell what you look

like but yet I can? What’s going on Danny? And why do you look completely like Phantom through my goggles?”. Danny face palms and mutters quickly, “of course, they’re probably special goggles”, smiling softly he looks at his mom, “yeah been getting that in a sense all day, had a reaction with that weird purple cube thing”. Maddie shakes her head, “I don’t know how all our stuff seems to either be affected by or affect you. Well most things anyways”. Turning her head around she dashed back into the kitchen and shouts, “foods ready!”. Danny sits down at the table and smiles somewhat sadly at his mom, “um sweet”. As Maddie gives him his food she blinks at him a bit, “sweetie I don’t like that something we made has messed you up. You sure this, whatever, will wear off. That you’ll be ok?”. Danny sighs and nods, “yeah, I’ll be fine after another few hours. Sorry about the mindfuck”. Maddie glares at Danny who just exaggeratedly shrugs, “sorry I can’t think of a different word to describe it”. Maddie sighs and shakes her head as she sits down.

“So uh, where’s dad?”, Danny asks as he puts away his bowl. “Hmmm? Oh yeah, he went out to talk to Phantom. Which I’m starting to feel was pointless? Maybe?”, Maddie shakes her head as she looks at her goggles again but doesn’t put them on. Danny chuckles, “not an easy fellow to find unless you really know where to look”. Maddie smiles softly, gets up and kisses Danny’s head. Ruffling his white hair lightly, “well whatever the reason I’m pretty sure I’m glad we came to a truce”. This makes Danny smile and chuckles lightly, saying softly; more to himself, “me too, me too”.

End.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #Danny Phantom #fan fic #phandom #phan phic #danny fenton #Maddie Fenton #sam manson #Tucker Foley #mr. lancer #dash baxter #star #mild angst #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #team human

194 notes · View notes

aggressivelyclueless · 5 years

Text

The Lonely Ghost

prompted by @inky-interest "Full ghost Danny AU - his entire family dies in the Portal accident but he is the only one who sticks around FentonWorks to haunt the house. Eventually Sam & Tucker come in, following the rumors of a ghost haunting said house." Words: 6050 Warning: death, very feelsy

"Sam, do you really think this is a good idea?" "Tucker," she sighed, "I told you all about this, remember? One year ago exactly - and we've got a full moon going for us. Our chances are as good as they're going to get." Tucker slumped a little. "Yeah, but it sounded a lot cooler in theory. I'm getting the creeps already just looking at the place." He turned and gave the structure before them a long stare. It had been a house once; the front door lay on the steps, having been blasted off its hinges, and scars from the fire clawed outward from the doorframe and the empty windows. An old corroded sign had been propped up against the bricks by the steps. It had lit up before the tragedy, but after a year of neglect it just read F nt n ork. Sam gave the charred second-story window a glance. "Tucker. That's the point. You think I'd miss the chance to see a real ghost actually manifest? C'mon." Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him up the steps into the ruined house. Most of the floorboards had broken toward the back of the room, and even the first few groaned unhappily as the trespassers made their way inside. A gutted staircase went upwards to the left, the hand railing long gone but one stumpy post of the banister standing in stubborn refusal to quit. The collapsed frame of the living-room sofa sat to the right, covered in ash and dust. The end-table hadn't fared so badly; Sam stepped carefully over to it, minding the weakened floorboards, and coaxed the drawer open with one hand. The other reached out behind her. "Tucker - flashlight?" Tucker pulled one out of his backpack, handing it to Sam and peering over one shoulder. "Is it important?" Sam turned briefly back to him with a shrug. "Does it matter?" She turned the beam down into the opened drawer, rifling through its contents. An old deck of playing cards, one corner of which had burned away to ash; a little silver thing that looked like it might have, at one point, been lipstick; part of an old and disused rat's nest; a fragment of an old Casper High report card. Sam held the little silver thing up and twisted the cap open. "Lime green lipstick? Score." "Sam," said Tucker, "You think that's really sanitary?" "Whether I wear it or not - we're finding cool junk in here already. Wonder if any of this stuff is haunted? C'mon. I'm gonna check upstairs." Tucker hesitated. Why did I agree to go along with this? He didn't like the dark, and he didn't like ghosts; he'd really rather be at home, or at the movies, or anyplace except here. He told himself to remind Sam that she owed him one for this. Sam turned the beam of her flashlight to the staircase. It would be tricky - especially in combat boots - but she thought she could make it up without a problem. She tiptoed carefully up the first few jutting steps, pausing to throw a glance back over her shoulder and make sure Tucker would follow her. He looked like he didn't want to, but stayed behind her anyway. She knew she'd have to make this up to him later; this had been her idea in the first place, after all, and she had a feeling that Tucker might bail later on anyway if things started to get intense. She'd stuffed her backpack with the essentials anyway - ouija board, EVP recorder, infrared camera borrowed courtesy of Tucker's dad - in the hopes that they might have some decent luck. They hadn't lately, and she'd started to wonder if they'd have any at all. She'd agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to give the ghosthunting a break if they didn't find anything tonight. She still had her hopes up, though. The upstairs landing was unsteady at best. She held out one hand to keep Tucker back, crept slowly across until it felt more solid, and then gave him a nod. The beam from her flashlight had landed on the door at the near end of the hall, and she gave Tucker a little grin. "I brought that ouija board. Wanna give it a go? See if we get anything tonight?" Tucker's heart sank, but he nodded anyway. "Sure, Sam." Sam led him slowly into one of the bedrooms. Despite the layer of smoke and ash that had settled over every surface in the room, it was remarkably intact. The queen bed sat in one corner, and the bedside table and dresser shared the space under the window. The door of the closet hung ajar, and just for a second she swore she saw something move inside. Her eyes widened, and she jabbed Tucker with her elbow. "Hey - d'you see that?" "No," he whispered with a shake of his head. Sam crept up to the closet anyway, flashlight trained on the thin line left by the open door. She slowly nudged it open, breath held, and peered inside. She crossed her fingers - please be a ghost please be a ghost please be a ghost - but the closet was vacant. Old clothes lined the sides, and a small pile of shoes had been left in the back corner, but there were no ghosts. Sam let all her breath out in disappointment. "I don't think we should be here," said Tucker. Sam turned to see that he'd taken a seat on the edge of the bed, and he had both hands clamped over each other in his lap. "This place really gives me the creeps. I mean - people died here, Sam. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want us poking around - " Sam scoffed. "Tucker, listen. Ghosts can't actually hurt people. Besides, we haven't even seen any yet. I know I keep dragging you out on all these ghost hunts, but I swear I'll make it up to you - you know that, right? I always do." "Yeah," said Tucker, "That's kinda the only reason I'm still even here. Just saying." Sam gave him a little smile. "Thanks." Tucker gave her a little smile back. She turned back to the abandoned bedroom, the beam from her flashlight sweeping across walls and furniture alike. A forgotten jewelry display stood on one side of the dresser, and she kept the flashlight on it as she went to investigate; a modest handful of bracelets, a few pendants, and three pairs of earrings sat dully under their cover of ash and dust, and Sam pulled one of the pendants up and examined it. It was a little petunia, studded in the center by a single pink gemstone, and Sam scrubbed at it with the corner of her top to restore any luster that it might once have had. "Tucker - check this out. How cool is that?" Tucker hesitated. "I don't know, Sam - you think the ghosts'll be happy when you go and root through their stuff?" "It's not like they'll ever use it again," Sam shrugged halfheartedly, but set the pendant back anyway. "I'm just admiring it. That's all." Something from the next room over clunked suddenly, making both of them jump. Sam's heart skipped a beat, and the flashlight turned immediately to the wall separating the two rooms. After a moment of silence, she turned back to Tucker; her voice was just the barest whisper. "C'mon." Tucker hated to go and investigate strange noises in abandoned burned-up houses, but he hated even more the thought of standing by himself in an abandoned burned-up house, and he followed Sam back into the hall. The longer they stayed, the worse he felt. Part of him still wanted to bail, but he had a feeling that Sam would take him out for a movie tomorrow - two, if things got really scary - so he stuck with her. The second bedroom was in much worse shape. The bed in the corner was still recognizable, but most of the furniture had been scarred by the fire. The carpet had melted, solidifying afterwards in hard uneven clumps, and the feet of the dresser and bookshelf had sunk an inch into the fibers and been eaten up. About two-thirds of an old stuffed bear sat on the window - it was missing a leg and part of its body, and Sam picked it up and turned it over once in her hands. "I think her name was Jasmine," said Sam with a frown, "Maybe it was Jessamine." "Jasmine," said Tucker vaguely, having occupied himself with any of the titles on the bookshelf that were still readable. Most of them weren't. His foot absently found one on the floor in front of the shelf, and he picked it up. "I think this is what fell." He handed it to her. Sam gave the book a brief inspection. Most of the pages were charred beyond recognition, but part of the front was still readable. Psyc- A Gui- minds of-. The rest of the title had been destroyed. She frowned. "I vaguely remember her from school. Wasn't she a prep?" Tucker shrugged; he and Jasmine had never met. Sam tossed the destroyed book aside, peering briefly through the most-intact portions of the room. The closet was almost completely incinerated; the drywall had crumbled, taking the shelving down with it. All that remained was a pile of ashen debris on the floor, and a couple of drywall screws that jutted out from the support beams as if they might still serve any coherent purpose. Sam stepped gingerly into the space, shining the flashlight for a moment up at the ruined ceiling, but decided against it when the floorboards protested a little too loudly for her comfort. She turned back to Tucker. "You wanna try the last room on the end?" Tucker swallowed. "Not really," he said, following her regardless. Sam tiptoed back out into the hall. The weak spot on the floor was at the top of the staircase, and she skirted around the edge of it as best she could to access the last room at the end. She waved Tucker over when she was done, and turned her attention to the blackened door before them. She meant to push it open, but the frame gave out at the slightest touch; the door teetered for a second and then fell flat, sending up a cloud of ashes and dust and making them both cough. When the dust settled, Sam gasped. The room at the end of the hall had suffered horribly; two ends of the bedframe had collapsed, piling on each other in the middle, and the support beams holding the drywall up had been completely destroyed. The drywall itself had fallen, although it had been burned only partially; most of the bare wooden floorboards had given out, and the remnants of the bedside table and the desk had collapsed downwards. Apart from the bedframe, and the fallen drywall, there was surprisingly little debris. Most of it, Sam guessed, had been incinerated completely. She swept her flashlight across the room, almost breathless. The beam flickered for a moment in the center, and just for a fraction of a second she spotted it: a translucent shadow, standing very clearly in the center of the space. She brought the light back around to fixate on it, but the shadow had vanished. Her breath hitched, and for a long moment she was silent. "Tucker," she mouthed finally, "Did you see that?" Tucker had, most definitely, seen it. He found himself shaking his head anyway, hoping that Sam would be dissuaded and opt to call it a night, but most of him knew better. Sam turned the flashlight about the room again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the anomaly, but found nothing. "That's it," she decided, shoving the flashlight into Tucker's hands and sliding the backpack off her shoulders. "Infra time." "Sam," Tucker protested quietly, "Do we have to - ?" "Yes," Sam hissed through her teeth, "We do. That's why we came out here in the first place, remember?" She pulled the infrared camera out of her backpack, waiting for a moment as it powered up, and then kept her eyes on the screen as she turned slowly about the room. She could see Tucker's outline clearly - he lit up a pleasant red-orange - and could easily make out the few details to the room that remained. Most of it was an easier green-teal, and when the wind swept through the empty windows she could see it swirl in a cooler blue. She turned to where she'd seen the shadow, hoping it was still there. It didn't appear to be, but she could clearly see where it had been standing; two deep purple footprints could be seen on the bare floorboards, their edges already blurring back toward the blue-teal of the surrounding space. "Tucker, take a look at this." Tucker gingerly took the camera from her. He was always extra careful with things that he'd borrowed, especially if they were electronics of any sort, and turned it back to the fading footprints in the center of the room. His gut wrenched. "Sam, I really don't think we should be here - " "What, and miss this? Tucker, we know there's a ghost here now. We're not shooting blind anymore. I bet we could even communicate with it - maybe there's more than one. Maybe all four of them are here - and how are we gonna find out about it if we don't ask?" Tucker was silent. Figures Sam would be really excited about this. He supposed he'd be excited too, if only they'd come in the daylight. Sam carefully plopped down on the floor, and unzipped the top of her backpack again. "You wanna try this ouija thing? I heard about it from Felicity from third-period. You met her once, right?" Tucker hadn't, but nodded anyway. Sam pulled the board out of her backpack and unfolded it so that it lay flat. "She said it works better the more people you have, but seeing as how it's just us two - I'm not sure if we're going to get anything. Worth a shot, though, right? We can always try for an EVP or two later." The knot of dread in Tucker's gut hardened, but he nodded anyway. Sam unzipped the smaller compartment of the backpack, pulling out the little wooden puck that Felicity-from-third-period had lent her along with the board. She turned it over in her hands a few times, noticing the little hole bored through the center, and then placed it down on the board. She gave Tucker an expectant look; he descended onto the floor opposite her. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly set his first two fingers on the side of the puck. "Sam, I really don't have a good feeling about this." "I know," said Sam, "Me neither. Tell you what, though - stick with me until the end and I'll take you tomorrow night for a double feature." Tucker weighed the offer in his mind briefly, but then nodded. "Yeah." Sam took a deep breath, turning her attention back to the puck under her fingers. "You think it'll answer?" She had meant it as a somewhat rhetorical question to Tucker, but almost immediately the puck slid anyway: YES. Sam's eyes widened. "Tucker - " "Real funny, Sam," said Tucker, shifting uncomfortably in place. "That wasn't me," she whispered, holding his stare. She glanced for just a second back down at the board, and gave him an excited smile. "I knew we'd be able to communicate." Tucker pulled his hand away and wrapped both his arms around his knees. "I really don't like this - " "Tucker, come on," Sam pressed, "It won't work if we're not both - " The puck slid out from under her fingers, skittering off the board and coming to a halt at the edge of one of the charred floorboards. After a pause, it turned slowly to point at her. Sam was silent, and she gave Tucker a wide-eyed look. After a moment, she slowly reached over to retrieve the puck, careful not to disturb the uneven floorboards more than she had to. She hated to reach out that far - she could feel them tipping slightly under her weight - and she brushed against the puck with her fingers, grabbed it, and pulled it back to the sturdier part where she and Tucker were sitting. She held it for a moment, running one thumb along its edge, and then set it back on the board. Maybe Felicity-from-third-period was wrong, the thought with a little frown. Maybe we don't need to be touching it at all. "I'm gonna try something." "Don't," said Tucker, but made no move to stop her. Sam stared down at the puck, a determined frown on her face, and then asked quietly, "Are you the only spirit here with us tonight?" There was a long silence as nothing happened. Sam was almost about to reach out and touch it again, but the puck slid slowly over: YES. Sam could hardly believe it. After all the places around town they'd swept with Tucker's dad's infra, and all the empty EVP sessions even when they were certain they'd find results, the husk of FentonWorks had been there the whole time. She turned to Tucker. "You wanna ask it anything?" Tucker shook his head. "I wanna go home." Sam turned back down to the board before her. The puck still rested over YES as if it hadn't moved at all. She kept her voice a whisper, but could hardly contain her excitement. "Do you mean us harm?" Again, the puck was still for a moment, but this time it slid faster: I DON'T KNOW. Sam frowned. "You don't know?" She thought to herself for a moment, and almost missed the first movement of the puck as it crawled across the board again. The letters read clearly: THIEF. As if to make a point, it rested on F for a moment before rotating to indicate Sam's backpack. Sam's eyes followed its direction, and she frowned. Remembering the lipstick, she dug it out of the backpack and held it up. Sure enough, the pointing end of the puck followed it like the needle of a compass, and only sat still when she set it down over by the charred doorframe. "Told you you should have left it alone," said Tucker quietly. Sam shot him a look. “Shut up.” She repositioned herself, turned back to the board, and asked: "What's your name, spirit?" The puck was still. Sam stared down expectantly, but even after a minute it hadn't moved. She and Tucker exchanged glances; after a tense silence, she whispered, "You think it's gone?" "No way," Tucker shook his head, "You feel how cold it got all of a sudden?" Sam paused. The infrared camera had been left at Tucker's side, and she grabbed it again. It wasn't just him; the green-teal of the room had shifted to a light blue to indicate the drop in temperature. She turned it about the room once, hoping to locate the mysterious spirit, and found only a fading wisp of blue-purple over the floorboards. She thought for a moment before scooting carefully to the edge of the boards and peering downwards. The camera, unfortunately, didn't pick up much through the darkness below. "You think it lives down there?" Tucker had no comment. Sam glanced over her shoulder at him. "You wanna go down and find out?" She heard the puck snap loudly against the board, and she and Tucker both jumped. She turned, scrambling back from the edge of the dark hole, and set the camera down on the floor by her backpack. She refused to say anything about it, but her mouth went dry just then, and all of a sudden she was aware just how cold it had gotten. She glanced down; the puck rested firmly on the board: NO. Tucker had frozen up. He'd pulled his hat down over his ears, and was trying to convince himself that there wasn't a ghost, or at least that it wasn't out to get them. It wasn't working. He gave up trying to block everything out and instead looked helplessly over at Sam. "Can we please go home?" Sam hesitated. Her eyes remained affixed to the puck on the board before her. Part of her wanted to listen to Tucker and call it a night; no, she told herself, we came out here to see ghosts, and we're finally seeing them. It was just because she'd never actually talked to one before - that's why she was jumpy. That must be it. She gave herself a little nod, as if the matter was settled, and turned back to the board. The puck remained still - what had she said? She'd asked Tucker if he'd wanted to take a look down the hole and see what they'd find. She guessed they'd end up in the kitchen downstairs - she'd seen it when they'd come in, although they hadn't investigated it yet - but the spirit, apparently, was against the notion. Well, she reasoned, they didn't really belong here. If anyone did, it was the ghost. She asked quietly, "Why are you with us, spirit?" The puck slid partway across the board, paused for a moment, and then backtracked: I DON'T KNOW. Tucker stiffened. "Sam," he whispered, as if somehow the entity wouldn't overhear him if he was quiet enough, "You think it even knows it's dead - ?" The puck on the board was moving again. YES. A spike of fear pierced him. Dread had hung over him since he and Sam had stepped foot in the remains of the house, and had grown into a knot in his gut when she'd pulled the ouija board out; seeing the spirit respond directly to him was almost too much. He turned to Sam again, his voice high. "What does it want - tell it to go away - " Sam gave him a disapproving look. "Tucker," she said slowly, voicing her thought process as it was happening, "It knows it's a ghost. It's self-aware - hey, wait a second." She leaned over the board a little. "What if it really doesn't know why it's here? What if it needs our help to move on?" "Move on?" Tucker echoed, "Sam, this is serious - !" "I am serious!" Sam snapped, crossing her arms, "Go and sit in the hall, then. I'm gonna keep talking to it." "Split up? Are you out of your mind? That's what gets us both killed!" "Stop it," Sam hissed through her teeth, trying her best to sound demanding in the hopes that it would mask her uncertainty. Despite what she kept telling herself, part of her did believe Tucker; spirits were dangerous, and the only thing worse than provoking one and making it angry was finding out that it had followed her home an made itself comfortable. Although it took some effort, she managed to keep her breaths steady. This was your idea, you know. You said it would be fun. She was determined to see it through. That, and Tucker wouldn't let her hear the end of it if she changed her mind now. She settled back on her haunches again, keeping Tucker's eyes. "Are you bailing or not?" Tucker hesitated. Most of him really wanted to, but he shook his head. "Not." "That's what I thought," she whispered. Relief swept over her; she had fully expected him to leave her by herself, and she wondered briefly whether she would have stayed if he had. Despite the fact that Tucker was scared of a great many things, it was still better to have him around. Her attention turned back to the board. Her flashlight, plopped on top of her backpack, had kept it lit so that they could see. "What d'you think we should ask it?" Tucker fidgeted. "I don't know, man." "Thanks. Love your input." Tucker thought for a moment. "Ask it what it wants. Maybe we'll get lucky and it won't say it's gonna murder us for coming into its house." "You know it can hear you say that, right?" said Sam, "Why don't you ask it that yourself?" Tucker didn't. Sam scoffed, but looked back down at the board anyway. "Spirit," she paused, knowing there was a more proper way she was supposed to ask things (according to Felicity-from-third-period, anyhow), "Is there something keeping you tethered here - something you're still looking for?" There was a long silence before the faint scraping of the puck across the board. It got as far as ALO- before it skittered off the board completely. Sam caught it before it could disappear through the gaps in the floorboards or down into the ruined kitchen, and set it back on the board. After a moment, it tried again: LONELY. "Tucker," Sam whispered, wide eyes fixed on the puck, "I wonder if it's the only one still around?" "You mean only one ghost instead of a whole family of them? Yeah, that makes me feel so much better." The puck was still moving: FOLLOW. Sam opened her mouth to question what it meant, but the puck came suddenly upwards, hanging for a moment in the air. It set itself down in the palm of her hand at the same instant that she was wracked by an uncontrollable shiver; the sensation passed, but the puck in her hand was like ice. It turned slowly to point down the hall. "Tucker," she breathed, "Did you see that?" He nodded. "That's not good, man." Sam got slowly up to her feet, keeping her movements slow and even. Her hands had finally quit trembling; her fingers had gone mostly numb, but it hardly registered. She followed the direction she was given, and peered out into the hall. "Sam - hey, wait!" Tucker scrambled after her, shoving the infra back into her backpack and tucking the board under one arm. He paused at the top of the stairs; she was already partway down, careful not to touch anything that might give way under her. He propped the flashlight briefly in the corner of his neck so that he had his hands free to sling the backpack over one shoulder, and went down after her. He caught up to her at the landing, the flashlight in his hand surprisingly steady. Sam turned to him, and he swore he caught a glint of green in her eye. "Gimme that," she took the flashlight from him, and turned it about the room. The wall separating the living-room from the kitchen was in a sorry state. The shapes of flames that had overtaken it were still visible, outlined in charcoal-black, and part of it had crumbled completely. Her footsteps were careful, but under the empty foorframe on the far side was where the floor gave out completely. This did not stop her from coming all the way up to the edge and peering down into the hole. She glanced down at the puck, which was still in her hand; it pointed ahead. The flashlight illuminated, a little at a time, the space below. There was - at least, there had been at one point - a basement down there. It was littered with charred furniture and debris; burned beams and plaster had collapsed from the level above, and anything that might otherwise have survived the fire was crushed. The remains of two metal work-tables jutted out from under the debris in the corner of the room. The metal walls had bowed outwards, and the near end where there had once been stairs was now a mangled wreck. "Tucker, she whispered, "I think this is where it started." Tucker peered over her shoulder. "You're not seriously gonna go down there. Please tell me you're not - " Sam turned to him. "Why not? There's no way we're not getting better results down there - " "Because, Sam!" Tucker exclaimed, "Hello! Scary basement in a house you already know is haunted? Don't you think that's got bad idea written all over it? That's where you go to die!" "It can't be that - " "Don't say it! Don't! Even! Say it! That's malarkey and you know it!" Tucker grabbed her wrist, taking a step back toward the front door. "Come on, Sam, please let's just go home, I promise we'll be alive for so much longer - " "Tucker, quit it!" Sam snapped. She yanked herself free of him, taking one step back in an effort to counterbalance herself. The floorboard splintered underneath her; she toppled back, landing with a hard thud on the cold floor of the basement and momentarily losing her focus. She stood, shaking the dizziness out of her head, and glanced around for the flashlight. It had come to rest on a fallen pile of burned wood and gone out, and she gave it a few smacks with the heel of her hand in the hopes it would light up again. It didn't. "Sam?" came Tucker's voice from above. She looked up; she could make out his outline against the opening of the stairs, but the stairs themselves were gone. "Sam, are you okay?" "Yeah," she called back, "I'm good." "I told you we should have gone home." Sam sighed. "Look, I'm gonna see if I can find a big box or something I can stand on to get back up. Just hold still for a sec, would you?" She thought she heard him grumble something along the lines of "I bet you'll stay down there as long as you want" but ignored it. She turned to the wreck of the basement with a shiver - it was much colder down here than it had been upstairs - but she was unable to make out many details in the dark. The only thing that she could see for sure was some big shadowy thing on the far end of the room - she guessed it was mounted to the wall, and she didn't give it another thought until the little red light at the top blinked to life. She paused, her heart beginning to race. What was that? There couldn't possibly still be power here, could there? The little red light indicated otherwise. She watched, silent, as the thing on the wall groaned. Two massive metal plates began to part before her, screeching from a year of neglect, and an unearthly mist crawled from behind them. It settled in pools between piles of rubble, and a swirl of unfathomable energy cast a ghastly green light across the space. Sam's breath caught in her chest. She knew she was trembling, and not just from the sudden cold - despite herself, she couldn't take her eyes away from the crooked circle of light. In the near-complete darkness, it was almost blinding, and she brought one hand up over her eyes to shield herself. "Sam? What's going on down there?" came Tucker's voice, but it seemed distant. A second later, he came down after her; she hardly noticed. "Sam - ?" Sam carefully crept closer. She traced the outline of the portal with her gaze; she could feel the energy that wafted from it, and her skin broke out in goosebumps. She could see that the metal frame of the thing was completely intact, almost as if there hadn't been a fire at all, and another piece clicked into place in her mind. "Tucker," she whispered, only daring to glance over at him for an instant, "This is it. This is what caused it." Tucker couldn't seem to take his eyes off the thing either, but remained silent. The off-lime glow began to dim slowly, and Sam and Tucker both took a step back. Wisps of concentrated energy swirled together in the center, taking shape; it was the shadow that Sam had caught in the beam of her flashlight earlier, floating almost in the center of the room. Its strength was fuller here, and it was able to manifest more clearly: its hands and feet faded from blackened shadow to foggy white wisps, and its eyes began to glow a softer green. It kept its head low, as if afraid to look at them directly. Sam was the first to take a step forward. Her heart was pounding but her mind had all but ground to a halt - an actual for-real ghost! - and she had gone almost completely numb. She kept her eyes on the apparition, certain that it would vanish if she looked away for even an instant, and one hand slowly came out to see if she could touch it. The spirit flinched, floating back from her for a moment, but then paused. It regarded her, unblinking, and one of its hands hesitantly came out to meet hers. It spoke not aloud but as an echo in her mind: (lonely) She brushed its fingertips with hers. Only then did she begin to process again, and she blinked a few times in an effort to keep her thoughts from scattering in all directions at once. "I..." What could she even have said? What did she really want to tell it? There weren't any answers for that, and she let herself go quiet again. The spirit floated lower, holding its shape but declining to solidify into a solid mass. Its touch was like ice, but it held its fingers against hers. It finally met her gaze. (scared?) Sam realized slowly that its question was directed at her. Her mouth had run dry, and so she just nodded slowly. (Me too) "Sam," Tucker whispered, "We really shouldn't be here - " (Don't go) Sam turned slowly. "Don't you get it," she said hoarsely, almost unable to speak at all. She turned back to the ghost so that Tucker wouldn't see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "He's been stuck down here this whole time. He's the only one stuck down here. I can't even imagine..." The spirit reached out a little further, taking Sam's hand. Its touch was careful, as if it was afraid it might hurt her, and it drifted slowly downwards to be level with her. Sam swiped at the tears with the back of her other hand. "You've been by yourself down here since you died, haven't you?" (Yes) Something in her stomach twinged. She couldn't bear to think of it - being caught in some disaster, losing everything and everyone, and being forced to stay behind and wander the little that's left - it made her sick. "I'm so sorry..." The spirit swayed a little in place. (Please stay) Sam found herself nodding before she had even thought about it. "Of course we'll stay - " (we? Tucker asked from behind her) " - you don't have anyone to talk to anymore - you poor ghost, you must be heartbroken - " (Yeah, kinda) Tucker shifted in place. Part of him still wanted to leave this whole house behind, but he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He admitted, somewhat reluctantly to himself, that he'd probably be miserable too if anything like that had happened to him. Maybe he wasn't going to turn his back on the spirit, but for the moment he'd keep his mouth shut. Sam still had the spirit's hand. The cold had faded; an electric pins-and-needles sensation was in its place, and she did her best to ignore it. She glanced briefly back at Tucker, as if she'd needed his permission for anything they'd done that night, and asked: "Were you still going to bail?" Tucker shuffled his feet. "I guess not." She turned back to the spirit before her. "We can't stay too long - but I promise we'll be back tomorrow. Soon as the sun goes down. We can talk then, right?" (I'll still be here) Sam gave the ghost a little nod. She could still hardly believe it - she'd just made friends with an actual ghost! She took a deep breath, and asked quietly: "You have a name, ghost? Mine's Sam." The spirit's glowing green eyes turned slightly upwards. (Mine's Danny. I'll see you tomorrow) and just like that he vanished as the portal behind him powered down.

#danny phantom #phic phight 19 #phic phight #team ghost

112 notes · View notes

heyheyitsstillgay · 5 years

Text

Inhuman Changes

Phandom Phic Phight Entry #4 striking back with a prompt by @marshmallowmayhem - Danny realises that the more he uses his ghost powers the less human he becomes.

#TeamGhost team leader @ibelieveinahappilyeverafter

Previous Entry ; Also available on FFN

Words: 1,494; Status: Complete

Mystified by the reflection staring back at him, Danny tentatively runs his fingers through the hair behind his ear and does his best not to hyperventilate. He’s doing well actually, surprisingly well. His breaths are slow and somehow also shallow. The ghostly teen tries not to think too hard about what that means.

When did this start anyway? How had he not even noticed until now? The changes must have been oh so small, so gradual. He hadn’t had a second thought about it until now. Looking back, he can start to see them building up, his tongue feels heavy.

His parents were often busy when he was younger and Jazz was kind of an annoying know-it-all, well, that’s still true. Point is, he had always been a quiet child when he wasn’t around his friends. At some point more recently though, he’d started getting even quieter. It was a conscious choice at first, he kept slipping into ghost-speak accidentally and had thought that just not talking all together was probably safer. He started gesturing more to compensate. He doubted anyone at Casper noticed, the teens had no reason to give him a second glance and he wasn’t going to give them one.

His reluctance to use language altered the ways he expressed himself though. One day, Dash knocked Tucker’s PDA out of the boy’s hand, smashing the screen. Ordinarily, Danny would’ve defended his best friend and offered comforting words. He thought he’d simply glared at the blond in response. Sam laughed at him later on, fully convinced that she had heard him hissing at the bully.

He overheard the A-listers talking another time, about how Fenton was creeping them out again. Apparently he’d been stock still and staring at them with “stupidly wide, bright, curious eyes” during class. He’d just quirked a doubtful eyebrow and moved on. His gaze had been unmoving, they’d said, he was probably just daydreaming or had fallen asleep with his eyes open. He didn’t think he had accidentally caused them to have an ominous glow. What was their problem?

One night he’d had a nasty run-in with Nocturne. He wasn’t scared though, not that there’d be anything wrong with it if he was, but he was fine. The ghost boy was half asleep when he got back to Fenton works. Drowsily following the neon lights to home, he’d ended up phasing through Jazz’s window instead. His sister was already sleeping, because, y'know, she has her life together. Her bed was absolutely strewn with pillows, all different sizes and textures. Who even needs that many? At the time though, it looked so cosy. His bed was so far away and would be so cold in comparison. He always had a chill catch up to his human form whenever he used his ice powers.

Jazz was always telling him she was there for him. Surely, she wouldn’t mind if he just- the blankets looked so fuzzy and there was plenty of room for him. Maybe he could guard her? Make sure she didn’t die suddenly in the night?

Ever since he’d taken to fighting ghosts, he never got as much sleep as he’d like. He’d always end up napping at his desk at midday when the sun fluttered through the classroom windows and made the wood so comfortably warm. So, maybe he had curled up into a ball amongst his sister’s pillows one night. She didn’t mind. Told him she’s happy for him to do so in future. She foolishly said he looked cute the next morning, which lead to him denying it had ever happened or would ever happen again. He huffed. He’s not a baby and he’s not cute. Stupid big sister.

The Fentons were always inventing new things. Usually they’d confine it to the lab but whenever that room overflowed with their junk they’d end up moving to the kitchen. It had happened again a week or so ago. Danny went into the kitchen for a snack and saw some giant metallic… thing gently and ornately laid out on the table. The kitchen was deserted of life, still, the ghost boy remained cautious as he padded over to it. He didn’t recognise the invention. Part of the device was hovering just over the edge of the table. It looked shiny and had this incredibly distinctive aura that almost yelled “Do Not Touch”. What else is a halfa to do? It felt like his hand was moving on its own, approaching the other end of the device. Danny wasn’t breathing. Eyes wide, shifting rapidly between the contraption and the door to the lab. His ears rang in the silence, which he ended by letting loose a low growl. A crash sounded throughout the house as the Fenton turned tail and ran from the destruction he had caused. Don’t have to learn what new ghost hunting tech does if gravity smashes it before it can be used on you.

Yesterday was when he first noticed a physical change in himself. His fingernails had seemed longer and sharper. He didn’t think twice about it, though. Everyone’s nails grow, it didn’t even cross his mind that his specifically were more claw like. That is, not until a zombie-like spirit lurched through the floor in the changing room. It somehow surpassed his ghost sense, maybe it was too dead, or so un-dead that it wasn’t dead enough to activate it. Either way he reflexively found himself on Tuckers back, his claw like fingers tore through the human’s gym shirt. The halfa paid it no notice, too busy glaring a hole into the ceiling the spectre had phased through, from his perch behind his friend’s shoulder. Noise bubbled in his throat, daring the spirit to come back and try that again. In the end, he had to have his attention broken and be coaxed down from his spot, to the hilarity of everyone else in the room.

Now here he is. Back at school. Wearing a beanie in April, in hopes of hiding one of the new inhuman differences in his appearance that he found in a mirror that morning. Jaw clenching, he heads to his locker to meet his friends.

“Nice hat.” Sam snorts when she catches sight of him, Tucker turns and holds in a confused giggle at the sight of Danny’s deadpan face. “Cold getting to ya, ghost boy?”

In response Danny just leans against the lockers, crossing his arms and pointedly keeping his head down. Sam and Tucker share a look.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He raises a fist to his mouth, keeping his fingers tucked in and out of sight.

“I’m really worried guys.” He sighs and continues, “a-about how human I am.” He mumbles into his hand.

Sam scans the area and tentatively takes a step towards him, slowly moving his hat upwards until she can see what he’s covering.

“Oh wow.”

“Can I touch it?” Tucker voices from behind her.

“What? No.” Danny bats Sam’s hand away with the one he was using to hide his mouth.

“Wait. No way.” The goth whispers in awe as she reaches back towards his face. Danny simply leans away from her fingers while Tucker flanks his other side. “That’s not fair! How come you got to grow fangs before I did?”

“Sam.” Danny grinds out, “shut u- Hey! I said you couldn’t touch them.” He slaps his hands over his ears as Tucker rubs his fingers in disbelief.

“Oh my god, they’re real. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know! I just, woke up like this.” He finishes in a hushed voice.

“You just woke up with pointed ears and fangs? Did a vampire bite you in the night?”

“Uh, I sure hope not. I’m dead enough thanks. Are vampires even real?”

Sam shrugs, “Ghosts are. Vlad is.”

Grabbing the edge of his beanie, Danny slowly pulled it over his whole face with a groan. When he speaks it’s muffled again.

“People are gonna start noticing that… I’m becoming less human.”

“Yeah, we thought so too, to be honest.” Tucker quirks a smile and lifts part of his jumper to show off the grazes on his back. “I wouldn’t worry about it though,” the teen continues, “people love cats.”

“That’s not funny.” He deadpans, lifting his beanie to glare at both of his friends for their traitorous laughter.

“D'aww, it’s okay.” Sam draws out the last word, bringing her fingers behind the boys ear to scratch at them.

He pouts at her, looking ready to spend the day sulking. A sound stirs from his chest causing the trio to freeze.

“Did you just purr?” Tucker asks.

“What the- no. That was my core. Oh, sue me. I’m content. Please just shut it.” They were quiet for a moment before he continues, “That doesn’t mean you have to stop…”

Sam grins and resumes petting the other-worldly boy. Leaning into her touch, his eyes flutter shut as he purrs again.

#phic phight #phic phight 19 #phic phight 2019 #teamghost #own post #owly writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #ficlet #it looks like angst but it isn't really! for once lmao

43 notes · View notes