ghostboidanny - Tumblr blog

[ghostboidanny]

He’s listing off all the reasons as to why he’s not a Frootloop

[ghostboidanny]

He can’t handle spicy food

[ghostboidanny]

Summoning The Ghost King [GONE WRONG]

Good grief this took so long (12 hrs 45 min) but it’s done! i have never drawn Jason before or any DC character but ive been obsessed with DP x DC crossover fics so this was born :3 i hope he looks ok lol

also: the runes are actual words i translated and they spell out stuff abt summoning the ghost king…. i def didn’t need to do all that but eh

[ghostboidanny]

into the unknown

My midterms are over so I did a little doodle to celebrate! I've heard it's a rite of passage for DP artists to draw the portal accident, and while this isn't that yet, it's close enough to tide me over I hope. Unironically I am kind of obsessed with what the aftermath of his accident looked like.

I wonder what it felt like to wake up as the creature your parents want to hunt, the dead thing you refused to believe in, and worry if you'll ever be human enough ever again. I wonder what Sam and Tucker felt knowing they were watching a person they love die.

[ghostboidanny]

DP Side Hoes Week 2024:

Dani Phantom - Self Defense

Just a rough sketch today. As a street kid who travels around the world and with her cheeky attitude I imagine she often gets into street fights with the local gangs in big cities. Of course she needs to be careful and not to accidentally transform to conserve energy and to avoid getting on the rader of the GiW.

[ghostboidanny]

tw // eye pulling and mild body horror

not quite human anymore

[ghostboidanny]

the. 7 hour quinton reviews nicktoons games video...

[ghostboidanny]

Suspended in Time and Space

For the Prompt: Wandering lost in the Ghost Zone, Valerie comes across a familiar sight, but this is not the Casper High she knows. Here the red of her suit sticks out like a beacon of color in a realm of black and white (but mostly white). Despite the hateful glares the ghosts throw her way, she knows this school stuck in the past holds the key to her way home, if only she can find it. [from @the-oaken-muse]

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for segregation era racism, canon-typical violence, and mentions of suicide]

It was official. Valerie hated the Ghost Zone.

Honestly, it wasn't much of a surprise considering how much she hated ghosts, but the whole place had always rubbed her the wrong way, and now that she'd been there for who knew how long, wandering around lost, she hated it with a fiery passion rivaled only by her hatred for Danny Phantom himself.

She couldn't remember exactly when the sparse scenery of floating islands, and doors had vanished, but she noticed when the sky turned from lime green to black as night, and speckled with stars that didn't match any constellations she knew, not that she knew all that many, admittedly.

She tried to turn around. She might know know exactly where she was or which way she was going, but she knew the Fenton Portal that she'd chased that wily ghost through before it disappeared came out into a green expanse, not the night sky. But when she turned around, the green behind her was gone.

Every direction she looked was dark sky and stars.

She didn't remember even flying into it, just noticing immediately when the color of her surroundings had suddenly changed. Now, it seemed like she was trapped, with no way out of the vast, inescapable dark night, and back to the vast, inescapable green of the rest of the Ghost Zone.

She tried of course. She picked a direction and pushed her hoverboard as fast as it would go, but she never reached the end of the darkness.

After... well... she didn't know how long it was exactly. Time was impossible to gauge in this place. But after a while, she finally came across seemingly the only thing floating in the night.

More unexpected than finding something in what she had thought was an empty nothingness realm in the Ghost Zone, was finding something so familiar. It wasn't just another door, or another random building on a floating rock, or a strange landmark floating in the void. It was a school. Valerie's school.

Curiously, she steered her hoverboard towards it to get a closer look.

It was Casper High, but it wasn't the Casper High she knew. There were no colors. Here, the glowing red of her suit was practically a beacon, a bright, neon sign in a realm of black and white.

Mostly white, she amended in her mind when she looked through the windows and saw the student body. The hall was crowded with students, but they were all white kids, every single one of them, and not just because they were in monochrome colors. She examined all their features, the shades of gray, and didn't spot a single person of color in the bunch. And Casper High wasn't the most diverse school, even now, now but it was way more so than this place.

However, she also noticed in her examination, that the clothes and hairstyles worn by the students she saw were... outdated to say the least. They looked like they were straight out of the fifties. And, based on the fact that this was the Ghost Zone, it didn't seem like much of a stretch to think they actually were.

Whatever the time period, however, this was still Casper High, and if Valerie wanted to get back to Amity Park in the real world, she had a strong feeling that this place held the key to get there.

She flew around to one of the school's back entrances in the hopes of drawing as little attention as possible. Thankfully, no one seemed to be there. With a tap of her heels and her hover-board stowed itself. Now, she just had to find her way home.

The question was, if this school really was trapped in the nineteen-fifties, how was she supposed to search it. Ruby Bridges had to have police escort her to school because people threw rocks at her, and she was a six-year-old at the time. The Little Rock nine were similarly harassed and threatened. And all that was after the courts mandated the girls be allowed to attend.

This version of Casper High was pretty obviously still segregated, but even if it wasn't, there was little doubt that no one here would take too kindly to her presence.

Valerie was strong, determined, thick-skinned, and a ninth-degree black belt, so she was pretty sure she'd be able to handle herself until she found the way back to Amity Park. She only wanted to get through this as painlessly as possible. At the very least, she should try and get with the fashion. Maybe she couldn't look like she belonged at this school—even though she was a registered student there in the real world—but she could at least look like she belonged in this time.

As stealthily as possible, she made her way to the school theater.

Everything was exactly where she expected it to be. Evidently, the school building hadn't changed much in the last fifty years. Unfortunately, she didn't find any 50s clothes in the costume storage. She supposed that made a certain amount of sense. If these students needed 50s clothes for a play, they would just wear their own clothes, or borrow their parents'.

Still, she supposed she could make do with what was there. Then at least she wouldn't have to choose between her ghost hunting outfit, the short-shorts she had underneath, or the mini-skirt she had to change into—all three of which would have been equally scandalous in the fifties.

With some minor modifications, she was able to turn the even-older-fashioned clothes into a decent approximation of what a standard 1950s high school girl would wear. The fabrics these costumes were made of were a lot nicer and more sturdy than most of what the drama club had nowadays. Go figure.

When she stepped into the halls, it took a few seconds for ghostly students to notice her, but as soon as they did, she was met with glares. Every face watched her with some variation of a hateful expression, anger, disgust. None of them seemed to notice anything off about her clothes, at least, so there was the silver lining.

She ignored them. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment besides ignore them. So far all they were doing was glaring at her, and she could handle dirty looks. She knew this school stuck in the past held her way back home. She just had to find it.

She stiffened when one of the students yelled a slur at her and told her to 'go home to the ghetto', and she just about ran up and kicked him in the crotch, but she held herself back and held her head high. She could handle insults too, even if they were foul.

With a stoic, disinterested look on her face, she tried to make her way down the hallway, but two burly boys blocked her path, presumably football players, judging by their Letterman jackets.

"Let me pass," she said coldly.

"And how are you gonna make us?" one of them asked,

Her lips quirked up in something close to a smile.

"I'm happy to show you."

They were ghosts, so she couldn't just hit them, since her fists would pass right through. She called her suit down her arms and hands under her long-sleeved shirt. Her fingers glowed like they had glowing red veins which thrummed with the sort of energy that let her punch a ghost directly in his face.

She imagined knocking this bastard's jaw clean off and took a swing at him with all her strength.

He instantly fell backwards, landing on the floor, unconscious. His buddy reacted quickly, trying to punch her back, but he swung so wide she saw it coming a mile away and ducked. As his fist passed her by, she saw his class ring, upon which the year was engraved: 1955. Good to know.

She punched him in the stomach, the knee, and then the jaw like his buddy, and sent him falling prone.

"You asked," Valerie pointed out as she stepped over the two of them while the handful of other students in the hall watch on, not daring to get involved.

God, that was satisfying, Valerie thought to herself.

There were plenty of racists in her time, too, but few were so open about it that she could beat the shit out of them and still come out looking like the good guy. Of course, it probably didn't seem like she was the good guy to the most likely equally racist ghosts in the hallway, but she sure felt like she was.

Honestly, though, she should be trying to draw less attention to herself. She let her suit recede so that her hands were bare, and bent her knees under her wide, mid-calf-length skirt just enough so that her face wouldn't be at eye level for most of the other students as she walked by, and most people would only see her black hair unless they were looking. In that manner, she made her way down the halls, turning her back when she noticed anyone starting to look too closely at her.

These people were just a product of their time, and beating them up wouldn't change their minds about her. It was a waste of time that could be put to better use finding her way back home. An extremely gratifying waste of time, but a waste of time nonetheless.

It had been almost an hour since she first got here, and everyone was still wandering the hallways, carrying books, and pencils, like normal students, but not entering any of the classrooms. Was there just no actual class in this place? What was the point of a school with no classes?

Come to think of it, she hadn't seen any teachers either, or any faculty of any kind. She looked through the window of the principal's office as she passed by, but no one was inside. The administration office next to it also appeared to be empty. The school was brimming with students, but... no teachers. No adults at all. Why?

Something was up with this place, and she had a feeling if she found out what it was, she'd find her way home. There had to be some kind of reason Casper High was here. She should start by figuring that out. And how would she do that?

She... didn't really know. Maybe a look at the yearbook would show her if there were any noteworthy Casper High students attending at this time. Or... more likely, a Casper High student that had died. Luckily, Valerie was on the yearbook team—or had been before she'd quit so she could get an after-school job—and she knew where all the old yearbooks were kept. Provided, of course, that they were kept in the same place back in the fifties that they were in 2005.

"This place has been so boring since Poindexter left," Valerie overheard a girl saying. "I mean, I proud of him and all—and I can't blame him for cutting-out when he had the chance, I would have too if I could, but I'm just washed out from this place."

Poindexter? Why did Valerie recognize that name? She shrugged and kept walking. Maybe the yearbooks would answer that question.

Casper High, it seemed, was not all that big on updating or renovating because Valerie found the yearbooks exactly where she expected to. Unsurprisingly, the classroom was empty. It seemed like none of the students had any interest in going inside them when there weren't any classes, and she couldn't exactly blame them. The yearbooks themselves were actually more organized then she remembered them being in the present. All lined up on the shelf by graduation year and everything.

She took the most recent one off the shelf and flipped through it to the class photos. She recognized a lot of the faces in the yearbook as students she'd seen in the hallways. But they hadn't all died. If an entire graduating class had somehow died at the school, Valerie was pretty sure she would know about it. Probably the school would have been shut down, too.

But if they hadn't died, then what were they all doing here?

Then she got to the end of the yearbook, and she saw it.

On one of the last pages, an obituary had been clipped from the newspaper and included in the yearbook, along with handwritten well-wishes, mostly from teachers, but it looked like a few students had written them too.

Sidney Ian Poindexter January 9, 1938 - March 10, 1955

At just seventeen years old, the young Mr. Poindexter threw himself from the roof of his school, taking his own life. A suicide note found in his pocket cited "unbearable an unrelenting bullying" as the primary reason for the jump.

Sidney was a bright student, a gentle soul, and a beloved son to John and Mary-Lynn Poindexter, and younger brother to Malcolm Poindexter, a family by whom he is remembered.

His funeral service will be held on Sunday, March 13. His family asks that in lieu of flowers, please teach the children and young people in your life just how harmful bullying and bigotry can be, and urge them to be kind, even to those who are different from them, and whom they may not understand.

The handwritten messages were mostly apologies, for bullying him, for not helping him, for letting it happen and never saying a word. Valerie scowled at them. Seemed like an empty gesture to apologize to someone after they were already dead, especially when you were the ones who drove them to it. Too little, too late.

She remembered the story now. Back in the 50s, some poor kid named Poindexter had been bullied so mercilessly and relentlessly by the Casper High student body, they said picking on him was a graduation requirement. That is, until he committed suicide jumping off the roof of the school.

The story went that he'd been shoved in his locker so many times then when he died, his soul was shoved inside it, too, and he haunted his locker to this day.

If that was true, then maybe this was the Ghost Zone inside Poindexter's locker, where his soul was trapped. In which case... maybe finding his locker would mean finding her way out. It was a promising lead, but there was just one problem. For the life of her, Valerie couldn't remember which locker was the one Poindexter supposedly haunted.

Damn... she was gonna have to ask somebody, wasn't she?

With deep sigh, she put the yearbook back where she'd found it and stepped out of the classroom. This hallway didn't have as many people as some of the others she'd passed through. She sized up the people in the hall and the way they were all looking at her, and walked up to the one who seemed the least aggressive, a girl with curly blonde hair that looked more nervous than hateful, a refreshing change, if not exactly better by much.

"Sorry to bother you," Valerie said, keeping her tone even and apologetic and her body language as open and pacifying as possible. "My name is Valerie, and I was wondering if you might be able to tell me Sidney Poindexter's locker number?"

"Um..." the blonde girl said, but Valerie never got to hear if she was actually going to answer, because a tall, dark-haired girl who must've been her friend stepped between them.

"If you're so sorry, then don't bother her in the first place," the second girl sneered.

Then she spat.

Directly onto Valerie's face.

And Valerie lost it. She wiped her face off with her long sleeve and activated her ghost hunting suit under her clothes, calling it to cover everything but her face so this bitch could see exactly how angry she was. She grabbed the girl by the collar and slammed her against the wall. She was a good four inches taller than Valerie, but it didn't make a difference.

"You think you can talk to me like that?" Valerie shouted, slamming her against the wall again. "You think you can treat me like that? Think again you hussy! I take no shit, not from you or anyone."

A pair of boys came over and grabbed Valerie to pull her off the girl, but she was having none of it.

"Don't fucking touch me!" she jeered, kicking them in the knees to make them drop her. "I was just tryna have a polite conversation with this girl and you spit on me? You grab me? I'm startin' to think the only decent people in this era are the parents who wrote Poindexter's obituary, but apparently you all have never read it."

One of the boys got up and tried to grab her again, but she slammed the heel of her palm into the underside of his jaw before he could get his arms around her and he fell back.

"I've had enough of you people," she scoffed. "I'll just try every locker until I find it."

With that, she stormed off down the hall, heedless of the looks she was getting. All she had to do was stomp and jeer at anyone who dared to get close to her. She was not gonna be some passive victim like Poindexter was. If they thought they could pull shit with her, they'd better think again.

She started with locker number 001, hoping that going in order would save some time by keeping her from accidentally checking the same section twice. Unfortunately, she had no idea what she was looking for. She was kind of hoping that if she opened the right locker, there would be a swirling green portal inside, like the portal she'd come through. Unfortunately, she had no such luck.

She punched out two more assholes by the time the ghosts all finally seemed to get the message that they were better off leaving her alone. She'd finally gotten into the 100s when they started gasping and turning around to go another way when they saw her. Good.

She was on locker 176 when someone finally had the courage to come down the hallway and face her.

"If you're here to pick a fight, I'm happy to oblige," Valerie said, not looking to see who it was as she slammed the locker door to 176 shut.

"No!" a girls voice squeaked behind her.

Valerie turned to see the blonde girl she'd approached earlier standing there, holding up her books to protect her face.

"Relax," Valerie told her. "I don't punch unless provoked."

Slowly, cautiously, the girl lowered her books so Valerie could see her face. "You said your name was Valerie, right?" she asked. "I'm Emily-May, but everyone just calls me Emmy."

"Nice to meet you, Emmy," Valerie said. "Nicer than meeting most folks here has been, anyway."

"You're in color," Emmy noted.

Valerie raised her eyebrow, apparently prompting Emmy to catch the double meaning and quickly correct herself.

"No I just mean, you're not in black and white like the rest of us. You look... real."

"I am real," Valerie said. "I'm human, and I'm trying to get home."

"Is that why you're looking for Poindexter's locker?" Emmy asked.

"Yeah," Valerie confirmed. "I'm pretty sure Poindexter's locker is my way home, but I can't remember what number it was... can you help me?"

Emmy nodded. "Poindexter's locker was number 724," she said. "But Poindexter's not here anymore, and he was the only one who knew how to get out through it."

"I'll just have to figure it out on my own, then," Valerie said, resigned. "Thank you, Emmy, truly."

Emmy smiled. "I haven't forgotten what was in Poindexter's obituary," she said. "Nobody deserves as bad as he got, it makes no nevermind who they are, but you've been getting that and worse, and it's not fair."

"It's not," Valerie agreed, rather proud of Emmy, even though she was kind of stating the obvious in Valerie's opinion, it was obviously a revelation to her. "If you don't mind, there's one more thing I'm curious about."

"Lay it on me."

"Poindexter was the only one of your class who died, so why are you all here?"

"We're not," Emmy said. "Well, what I mean is, I'm not actually the ghost of Emily-May Peterson. I'm just a conjuration of Poindexter's memories of the real Emmy, back when he went to school with her. This whole place was conjured out of Poindexter's memories, and his emotions about all of us."

"Is that why everybody's so cruel?" Valerie asked. "Because he remembers you all as the bullies that drove him to suicide?"

"That's part of it, but a lot of us were just as cruel in real life as Poindexter remembered us," Emmy admitted with a melancholy shrug. "The only difference is, out in the real world, we had the chance to learn and change, but in here, nothing changes.

"I hope the real Emmy changed. Even in Poindexter's memories, I'm not as bad as everybody else is, but I'm too afraid to go against their bullying when anyone can see me. I hope the real Emmy stopped being such a square and got brave."

Valerie looked her up and down and nodded thoughtfully.

"Emily-May Peterson, right?" she said. "Once I'm out of here, I'll look you up and see how much you changed."

Emmy lit up. "Would you?"

"Why not?"

"Oh, then let's bust you out of here,"

Valerie smiled, and the two of them hurried through the halls toward locker 724, and for once, it seemed like Emmy didn't mind people seeing her going against the status quo as she went along with Valerie the whole way.

Once they got there, the crowded hallway quickly cleared out. Valerie was quietly proud of herself for getting an entire school to unilaterally fear her in a matter of hours. That said—or thought, rather—she couldn't wait to be back in the real world.

She quickly opened up locker 724. Even though she didn't know the combo, she knew a trick that would open any locker in the school, and it worked just as well in 1955 as it did fifty years later. She turned the dial ten times to the left, then three times to the right, then slammed her fist against the door and it popped right open.

Eagerly, she looked inside the locker... but there was no swirling green vortex waiting to take her home. It looked just like any of the other lockers, dirty, with a couple of books and a single personal decoration, a round mirror hanging in the back. A broken mirror, at that.

"I told you, only Poindexter knew how to split through his locker," Emmy said apologetically. "I wish I could help you more."

"That's alright, Emmy, you've helped plenty," Valerie assured her. "I'll take it from here."

"Alright, if you say so," Emmy said, and headed down the hallway, leaving Valerie to figure out the secrets of the haunted locker on her own.

The textbooks were for history and math, and neither held any clue as to how to get out. She pushed against the walls of the locker, but nothing so much as budged, so clearly that wasn't the trick.

Upon closer inspection, however, the mirror hanging in the locker wasn't actually broken. It looked broken, but when she carefully moved her hand over the glass, it was smooth and perfectly intact. It seemed like this side was in perfect condition, but somehow... the backside was broken, or the inside... or the other side. Maybe this was a Through the Looking Glass situation, Valerie thought.

She reached into the locker and pressed both hands against the mirror as hard as she could. After a moment, she fell right through. There was no way she should have fit through the mirror. It was only about ten-inches in diameter and she was... more than ten inches in diameter... especially around the hips. But it didn't even feel like a tight squeeze as she tumbled out of the locker on the other side and found herself in the Casper High of 2005.

A sigh of relief escaped her and she pushed herself to her feet.

The hallway was empty, but the clock read 6pm, so that made sense. Unlike the Casper High in the Ghost Zone, the students at this one could actually leave when school was over, and Valerie followed their lead, dropping off her borrowed 50s costume in the lost-and-found on her way out.

She did look up Emily-May Peterson when she had the chance. Her name was Emily-May Barton now. She'd joined the civil rights movement in 1959, and married a black man named Robert Barton in 1967, shortly after it was legalized. They had three children, one of whom was a lesbian with the full support of her entire family. Emmy was 65 years old now, and still lived in Amity Park with her husband, both of them retired.

Valerie wrote it all down, and taped the piece of paper on the 2005 side of Poindexter's mirror, hoping that Emmy might be able to see it. Valerie was proud of her. She'd managed to 'stop being such a square and get brave' after all, just like 1955 her from Poindexter's memories had hoped.

[ghostboidanny]

An Unconventional Way to Get a Cat- Part 2

Summary: It turns out, Danny's bough of nausea after the portal accident was not just the stomach bug going around school. This must be the most horrifying, disgusting way to find himself a new pet owner.

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1,983

Also on AO3

For @wastefulreverie and @silentambiance

Based on wastefulreverie's prompt: Portal AU. Instead of gaining powers in the accident, the portal is fused inside Danny, making him the gateway between worlds and leaving him with the unfortunate ordeal of vomiting up ghosts. Maybe someone catches him in the act. And Chaotic_french_fries's prompt: danny gets a ghost cat Chapter 2 incoming! The warnings for angst, body horror, and vomiting remain, though enjoy the introduction of more kitty adorableness. Happy reading!

For a long moment, Danny stared at the cat. 

“There’s a cat in the bathroom….” The animal, just as glowing as it had been since it …appeared…., blinked up at him in kind. “A green cat.” Like the ectoplasm, like in his parents’ lab, like in the defunct portal, like…”A ghost. You’re a ghost.”

Said ghost yawned, flashing needle sharp teeth. The inside of its mouth was completely green too.

“A ghost cat… that I threw up.” He shook his head, wide eyes drifting away in disbelief. “This can’t be happening.” It had to be a dream, some kind of sickness induced hallucination. 

Again, he furiously shook his head. Nose wrinkling, he turned back to the toilet. The sour-smelling vomit floated menacingly in the bowl. Eyeing the content suspiciously, he flushed. The disgusting biohazard swirled down the drain and disappeared. 

Danny let out a breath, his stomach churning in an oddly cold dread. Tensing, he turned his head back to the floor and… blinked. The ghost cat was gone.

Shakedly, the boy pulled himself to his feet. He rinsed his mouth out, washed his face, and took a long drink of water. All the while, his eyes flickered, on alert for the bathroom’s other recent resident. But there was no sign. No fluffy tail, no quivering whiskers, no sharp toe beans.  

Maybe it really was a hallucination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny mindlessly scrolled through his phone. He’d gone downstairs, picked at a sandwich, and sipped a cup of water. Now, he was sat on his bed, trying to distract himself. 

His stomach churned, icy unease growing…. No. Nope. He wasn’t going to think about it.

Oh, that’s cool. They were making another Nightmarica Movie. Maybe he could-

He burped and an acidic taste welled in his mouth. “Oh no.” Danny swallowed painfully, sticking out his tongue at the taste.  “Not go-”

A popping noise startled him. “Ah!” 

“Meow!”

The boy’s head jerked to the side. He blinked, then scowled. The cat, the green ghost cat, sat on the floor beside his bed, tail swishing gently. 

“Great.” Danny rolled his eyes. “You ag-”

A gag cut off his words and the boy lunged for the trash can. He scrambled, reaching for the plastic bin and bringing it up to his mouth just in time.

Ectoplasm surged up his throat, thick and slimy as a slug. Something inside squirmed and Danny shivered violently.

He coughed, pounding at his clogged chest. Something wet plotted into the trash can.

Instantly, the nausea ebbed. Danny just sat, panting for a while. His eyes closed, he felt the bed shift with the movement of tiny feet. A fuzzy head brushed his arm. Then the thump of a paw batting at the trash can.

Nose wrinkling, Danny opened his eyes and peered inside. A green blob-shaped mass sat there and the boy let out a breath of relief. At least it was just ectoplasm this time.

Then the ectoplasm blinked. The cat sprang, batting at it. 

Danny blinked, stomach churning with dread, while the ghost cat grabbed the blob in its mouth, darted literally through the trash can, and then under his bed.

“What did Mom and Dad’s portal do to me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, Danny managed to stir himself out of his existential dread. Still eyeing the trash can suspiciously, he placed it on the ground. There was no sign of the blob now, no stain of green. But it had been there, just like the throw up in the toilet earlier. Just like the cat. Thinking of the cat…

The boy lowered himself to the floor, kneeling to look under the bed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see but…

Rapid movement. The cat laid on its side, the blob held between its paws. The animal flailed wildly, back legs kicking at its prey. Then the ghost cat froze. Eyes wide, ears back, it startled, practically leaping to the other end of the bed, and throwing the blob toward Danny. The blob smacked the boy in the face.

“Ew.” Danny flinched, wiping at the spot. 

Meanwhile the blob let out a sad whoosh, like a balloon deflating. The boy blinked, looking between it and his hand. There… was no residue on his face, none on his hand. It had been cool but… not wet. 

Tentatively, he reached, poking at the green mass. It gave under his finger, the surface solid but the inside malleable. Like a balloon filled with cornstarch slime. 

Danny muttered. “Weird….”

A flicker of movement, something neon green, grabbed his attention. His eyes snapped up meeting… round, green eyes. The ghost cat.

The animal froze, one paw lifted in mid-step. It tentatively lowered the leg and stretched its neck towards him. 

What was it doing?

Ears up and alert, the cat sniffed. Its whiskers quivered, cautiously curious. Slowly, the ear swiveled forward.

Tentatively, Danny put a hand forward. More eagerly, the cat sniffed. Then the furry head bumped his hand. 

“Nice kitty.” The boy grimaced, unsure.

It head-butted his hand again, then looked up, fixing wide begging eyes on him.

“Alright?” Carefully, Danny patted the head. 

A rumble started up and the boy petted the cat, first cautious and slow. “Nice… ghost cat?”

It was just… acting like a normal cat.

Another head-butt to his hand. “Good kitty boy? Girl?” He had no idea…

No answer came, of course. The cat just rubbed against his hand and purred, like any living cat.

Gaining confidence, the boy scratched behind the ears. “Good… Fluffy?.... That’s stupid.”

The purr deepened, rumbling up through his fingers and Danny found himself smiling. “You like that, huh?” He rubbed the back of the head, down the side of the neck. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

A green paw suddenly batted at his hand. “Alright. Alright.” Danny whipped his hand back. “That’s enough for now.” 

The cat stood up, stretching its front paws. It yawned, flashing its teeth. Then its ears twitched. Its head turned, fixed on something Danny couldn’t see. It leapt away and ran, taking a lap around Danny’s room.

The boy just sat there on the floor, perplexed as the cat started attacking one of his dirty socks on the floor. 

“Alright. You’re a ghost but you’re just a normal cat….”

Said animal batted at the dirty fabric, attacking with its teeth. It jerked its head up, nose wrinkled, mouth slightly open and lips curled in, as if in disgust. Then it went back to playing with the sock. 

“How is this my life?”

The cat abandoned the dirty laundry, flopping onto its side. 

“Well… I guess you’re a girl cat.” Danny eyed the visible dark spots running down the cat’s belly; he’d seen similar when Sam’s cat had been nursing her babies. He frowned, a stab of sadness pricking at him. “What happened to you?” A mama cat, without her kittens…

The cat kneaded at the air, paws reaching towards him. Despite his somber thought, the corner of the boy’s lip turned up. “Oh no, I’m not putting my hand down there.” He waggled a finger. “I know that’s a trap, missy.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Danny! Dinner!”

The cat jumped up, form turning misty and then disappearing. Invisible…. That’s how she had appeared out of nowhere before and vanished just as fast. But now… the air in front of him swirled, just the slightest bit different from its surroundings. A cool spot lingered at the edge of his consciousness, a clear sign of the ghost’s presence…

Huh. That was new.

“Danny!” Another knock.

The boy shook his head. He’d have to figure all this out later.

“Coming!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So… Danny had a ghost cat now. 

When he came back from picking at his dinner, the animal was still there. The cat laid on his bed, half curled into a circle and paws folded against her chest. 

“I have to admit that’s cute.” He muttered. 

This past day had been so weird, what with throwing up ghosts…. Danny shivered at the thought… the ghost cat still being there was almost normal.

With a shrug, the boy plopped back into his desk chair. He turned his attention to his computer, determined to not think about ghosts or portals or vomit, and losing himself in video games. 

And yet, the cat’s soft snores echoed softly. A chill lingered in the back of his mind, swirling softly in his lungs. And the nausea….

The cat jolted awake with a loud meow just before Danny’s stomach lurched. He lunged for his trashcan and threw up again. In the can, something chirped and clicked. He peered in, eyes narrowed. Some kind of bird. 

The cat sat up, eyes narrowed into slits and ears twitching. Danny eyed the animal suspiciously, gaze flitting between it and the bird thing. But, before the cat could act, the other ghost flapped panickedly. It half-ran, half flew out of the container and across his room, phasing through the wall. 

The cat turned tail, silently following after and disappearing into the night.

Danny sighed, head in his hands. Three times was a pattern. This was really happening. And… it would keep happening. 

The dread hit him, tears welling in his eyes. What was he going to do?

He sat, legs pulled to his chest. Despair clawed, questions circling. His parents’ invention… the portal did something to him. It must have. But what? How? How was this even possible?

What was he going to do? He… he had to tell someone, right? But… Sam and Tucker were out of town for summer trips. How would he even…. 

“Yeah, Tucker, how’s tech camp? You blowing everyone’s minds? And Sam, how’s your trip? You haven’t killed your parents yet, right? Oh me…” He laughed almost hysterically. “I just walked into my parents’ broken portal, like an idiot. And now…” He giggled. “Now I’m throwing up ghosts. Yeah, yeah. Those ghost’s that Jazz always said didn’t exist.” 

Yeah, that conversation would go so well. Danny rolled his eyes. Jazz would think he was crazy… or having some kind of trauma induced hallucination. And his parents… 

His eyes widened, hope suddenly flickering. His parents… his parents’ work did this to him. If anyone knew what was happening, how to stop it, it would be them. He could tell them and-

The cold in his belly flipped, rushing to his chest. His skin tingled and he fell through his chair. 

The boy landed on the floor with a thud. He stared, eyes wide and terrified. His body shimmered, bluish tinted and immaterial, with the chair sticking through him. He scrambled away, as if burned.

“No. No.” His insides churned, a queasiness that had nothing to do with vomit. 

Cold rushed out and he fought back a scream, his body flickering in and out of visibility like a dying light bulb. Like a…

“No. I’m… I’m not…” The tears let go, turning into quiet sobs. “I’m not a ghost.” 

Except… all that pain, electricity… how could he not be dead? No one could survive that. He… he couldn’t have. He couldn’t.

“I’m… I’m dead.” His chest heaved, paradoxically straining for breath.

He… he was a ghost. That was the only explanation. That… that stupid “portal” killed him. And… now he was like it. An un-living portal, letting ghosts into the world. 

His stomach lurched suddenly and he gagged. Ectoplasm rushed up, dripping down his lips. He spit, mind begging it to stop. Please. No.

“Mrow.”

Paws on his knees. His eyes snapped to round green eyes. The cat stretched his neck forward, rubbing up against his leg. The creature rumbled softly. 

Danny panted, trying to catch his breath. His stomach settled. 

After a long moment, he whipped his mouth. Tear tracks still stained his face. “Thanks… thanks…. I guess I should think of a name for you.” 

The cat just purred, the boy rubbing her head. “Good girl.”

Note: Unsurprisingly, despite planning for 2 chapters, I am still not done. My goal is to wrap this up in to a satisfying conclusion before the month is over and I dive back into my Invisobang story! Wish me luck!

[ghostboidanny]

Building a dp wc au!

[ghostboidanny]

It was lunch when Danny got the notification of a large scale attack spearheaded by Bane on his phone. He hadn't wanted to be overt about his vigilantism but based off what he was seeing this attack was getting out of hand fast. He'd be caught dead before ignoring something like this.

Luckily the halfa had forseen something like this happening and not long after having transferred to the school he'd found a perfect out of the way janitors closet to transform in for occasions like these. Now the only issue was making way through the hoards of students milling around the halls like ants by the cafeteria.

With haste pushes through people leaving a litany of complaints by individuals in offence at being shoved past. At one point a teacher had called for him to stop running and without thinking too much of it he loudly prattles off the first excuse that comes to mind: bathroom emergency. He'd look back on it with embarrassment but at the time it served it's purpose.

However after finally reaching the closet and slamming the door shut he'd been faced with a major problem. There was already someone in there. Someone with their blouse halfway off and staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. Danny stopped dead in his tracks, hand still on the handle of the door and they stood there in silence for a beat.

The other teen -Tim from English class, Danny's brain supplied- spoke, "It's just- uh- kind of warm out today, you know?"

Danny blinked.

It was October and most definitely one of the colder days of the year. His eye travelled downward to a backpack that stood wide open, which seemed to have some sort of black and red coloured clothing inside of it. He looked back up to Tim with an expression that he hoped portrayed his deep sense of 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.

He slowly backs out of the closet. Maybe he'll try his luck at the bushes outside.

[ghostboidanny]

All Boxed Up

@aggressivelyclueless's prompt: Backstory: pick your favorite ghost and flesh out their history a little. How did they die? What do they miss most about being alive?

Summary: Barnaby Boxton falls in a box.

Warnings: Death

Words: 485

Box Ghost, born Barnaby Boxton in the city of Amity Park, was an ordinary man with an extraordinary love for all things cardboard. In life, Barnaby owned and operated Boxton’s Box Emporium, a modest but beloved shop that specialized in boxes of all sizes, shapes, and purposes. Barnaby wasn’t just a businessman; he was a craftsman who could tell you the history of the cardboard box, explain the intricate process of corrugation, and debate the merits of various types of packing tape.

Barnaby’s love affair with boxes began in his childhood. He was an introverted boy with a wild imagination, finding solace and adventure within the confines of the cardboard constructs he built and inhabited. Forts, castles, and spaceships made from discarded appliance boxes filled his backyard. As he grew older, his passion didn’t wane; it only deepened. His enthusiasm was infectious, and soon he was the go-to expert in Old Churnwick for anything box-related.

The turning point in Barnaby’s life came unexpectedly. Late one night, while working on a special commission— a life-sized cardboard replica of the Apollo 11 Lunar Module— he accidentally sealed himself inside a particularly intricate assembly of reinforced boxes. Unbeknownst to him, a rare chemical reaction between the adhesive he was using and the recycled material of the cardboard created a toxic fume. By morning, when the error was discovered by his concerned assistant, it was too late. Barnaby Boxton had passed away, surrounded by the objects of his greatest affection.

As the Box Ghost, Barnaby found himself still tethered to the physical realm, unable to leave the confines of his beloved shop. His specter was not menacing but was instead characterized by a mournful wistfulness. What he missed most about being alive was not the thrill of creating or the joy of collecting; it was the simple pleasure of touch—the feel of a smooth, freshly cut piece of cardboard, the sensation of a perfectly executed fold, the resistance of a flap being tucked into a slot. He missed the warmth of human contact, the handshake of a satisfied customer, the hug of a friend, and the occasional pat on the back for a job well done.

In his afterlife, Barnaby, now the Box Ghost, became something of a benign presence in Old Churnwick. He was occasionally spotted in the aisles of local stores, his translucent form gently caressing cardboard displays or rearranging boxes during the quiet of the night. To some, he was a figure of local folklore, a gentle reminder of the passion that once filled Boxton’s Box Emporium. To others, he was a spectral helper, ensuring that every box was perfectly placed and cared for, just as Barnaby would have wanted.

As time passed, tales of the Box Ghost inspired others to find passion in the mundane, to seek joy in simple pleasures, and to remember that legends are sometimes made from the most unassuming of materials.

[ghostboidanny]

What Fades, and What Never Will

After Danny's accident, he starts acting strangely, and after exhausting all their other options, Jack and Maddie call upon a long-time friend who once had a portal accident of his own to try and get Danny to open up.

For the Prompts: In another universe, Maddie and Jack did visit Vlad in the hospital, and stayed in contact. What happens when Danny has his accident 20 years later? [from @kinglazrus]

After the accident, the Fentons can't help but notice something wrong with Danny. And since Danny also has that terrible symptom of "being a teenager", he refuses to tell them anything. So they reach out to the only person who could possibly help: an old friend in Wisconsin. [from Mimca]

And Like Danny, Vlad also has an unfading death scar—several of them, actually. Dozens of pock scars mar his skin all over his body, a permanent reminder of his slow, painful death from ecto-acne. [from me :)]

Read also on Ao3

[Warnings for mentions of past trauma/death, and past hospitalization]

Danny's accident had given his parents quite the scare. Their son nearly dying put a serious damper on the excitement of their portal working properly, to say the least.

But after that, even though Danny insisted he was fine, and the doctors said he was in the clear, medically—they couldn't help noticing that there was something wrong with him. Maybe that was a bit harsh, maybe it would be kinder to say there was something off with him, or something different about him. But whatever it was that was different about him... it seemed very wrong.

Maybe it was like Jazz said, and he was just traumatized from the accident and isolating from his family as a coping mechanism after his parents' invention had caused him so much distress. But if that were the case... why was he going into the lab so often? Much more often than before, and it didn't seem to bother him at all to be in a place where he'd experienced so much... distress.

They tried several times to talk to Danny about it, but he also appeared to be exhibiting unrelated symptoms like 'being a teenager', which of course meant he refused to tell them anything and suggested that they, 'butt out of his business' when they pressed even a little bit.

After about a month of trying and failing to get through to Danny in any way shape or form while whatever was going on with him only seemed to get worse, they decided to call in some back-up. As it happened, Danny wasn't the only person they knew who'd had an... unfortunate experience involving an experimental ghost portal. 

Maybe... hopefully, their old friend from Wisconsin could help.

After a month of complete failure to connect, Jack and Maddie started to think that maybe he was the only person who possibly could.

Although they stayed in fairly regular contact with him, they still hesitated to ask him to come all the way out to Amity Park from another state entirely. But Vlad seemingly thought nothing of making the trip out to see them and have a chat with their boy.

After his own accident with the proto-portal, they were the only friends of his who didn't cut ties with him because they found him too grotesque to look at. They'd visited him in the hospital often, and gave the doctors all their research in the hopes that it might help cure him. Although the doctors hadn't asked, and Jack and Maddie were pretty sure they'd just thrown all the research away.

Eventually, Vlad's ecto-acne went away, although it was years before it vanished entirely. He was always terribly self-conscious about it. He refused to be in any of their wedding photos because of it, even though he was the best man. 

And even when the ecto-acne itself finally went away, it left scars, dozens, maybe hundreds of them. Vlad often complained that he had to spend a small fortune on foundation and concealer to keep them covered, even though Jack insisted they made him look cool and mysterious. Vlad argued that they made him look sickly and unkempt.

It would be good to see him again after so long. Oh, sure, they called and e-mailed each other all the time, but they hadn't seen Vlad in person since they moved to Amity Park. Danny had only been four years old at the time, so he almost certainly didn't even remember the man, even though Vlad was his and Jazz's godfather.

Two days after reaching out to him, late Saturday morning, there was a knock on the door. Jazz was the one who answered. It took her a moment to recognize the tall, gray-haired man in a fancy suit standing there, but eventually she did.

"Uncle Vlad?" she asked. "We haven't seen you in ages. What are you doing here?"

"Your parents called me the other day and asked me to come down," he replied easily. "I heard about poor Daniel's accident. They were hoping I might be able to commiserate with him, since I was in a similar unfortunate accident myself with our prototype portal many years ago." 

Jazz nodded slowly. "That... could be good for him. Personally, I'm pretty sure it was a traumatic experience for him, but he won't talk to anyone about it."

Vlad's expression was sympathetic. "It would be a traumatic experience for anyone. May I come in?"

"Oh, right," Jazz stepped aside to let him through the door into the house. "Sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Vlad said. "Are you parents around? I'd like to say hello."

"Down in the lab," Jazz told him, pointing to the basement door.

He nodded his thanks, remarked how good it was to see her, and what a lovely young woman she'd grown into since he last saw her, and then headed down into the lab to talk to her parents.

"Maddie?" he called down. "Jack?"

"Vladdie!" Jack shouted.

As soon a Vlad reached the bottom of the stairs, he was tackled in a massive bear hug. His arms were pinned to his sides and the breath squeezed out of his lungs.

"Let go of me you big oaf!" he wheezed out.

Jack dropped him with a good-natured laugh, and Vlad gasped for air for a bit before chuckling with him.

"It's good to have you over, Vlad," Maddie said, though she didn't move from where she was standing over a laboratory apparatus. "I would walk over to greet, but I'm holding volatile chemicals at the moment. Just give me a minute to stabilize the experiment." 

"It's quite alright, Maddie, dear," Vlad said. "Don't rush on my account; especially not where volatile chemicals are involved."

"Thank goodness you're here, Vladdie," Jack said excitedly. "I'll finally get to show you all the new inventions we've made since moving here."

Vlad gave him blundering old friend an amused smile. "And approximately what percentage of these inventions actually function as intended?"

Jack looked sheepish, though the excitement didn't fade from him.

"Oh, but here, I thought you asked me to come all the way down from Wisconsin to talk to your Daniel," Vlad added. "Perhaps seeing all your hundreds of failed inventions and a dozen or so working ones can wait?"

"I guess so," Jack agreed, though he seemed very reluctant.

"Yes about Danny," Maddie said. 

She'd apparently finished at the apparatus and was carrying a rack of test-tubes to the nearby freezer to be stored until the next phase of her experiment.

"We told you he had an accident in the new ghost portal," Maddie said. "I thought we'd disconnected the power source before leaving it unsupervised, but I guess not. The doctors say he'd fine, physically, and Danny insists he's fine, too, but... something just doesn't seem right with him anymore. Jazz says he's traumatized, but he doesn't seem anxious in the lab at all, so we're just not sure. 

"Obviously he won't talk to us, but we were hoping, if you told him about your own experience, that he might be willing to talk to you."

Vlad nodded thoughtfully. "You know, he probably doesn't remember me," he pointed out. "To him, I'll be a stranger prying into something he probably doesn't want to even think about, let alone discuss."

"We know it's probably a long shot, but we had to try something, you know?" Maddie looked more worried than Vlad had seen her since he was still laid up in the hospital. "I'm just... I'm worried about him. We all are. He's been acting so strangely lately, cagey and short-tempered, maybe it is just stress, but it can't be healthy for him to keep it all bottled up. You'll at least try, won't you?"

Vlad looked at her distraught expression and nodded once, firmly. "I'll try," he agreed. "But if Daniel does talk to me, and he asks that I not relay what we talk about to his parents, I won't violate his trust."

Maddie shook her head, a sigh of relief escaping her. "That's fine," she said. "We don't need to know everything. We just want him to have someone he can talk to, so he doesn't have to bottle everything up. Right, Jack?"

"Absolutely," Jack agreed. "Whatever's best for Danny is good enough for us."

"Alright then," Vlad said. "Is he here now?"

"I think he's out with his friends right now," Maddie said. "He'll be back for dinner though. At least, he'd better be."

He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook next to a lab coat, which he put on in its place. It must've been Jack's judging by the way he practically drowned in it, but he rolled up the sleeves without complaint and ignored the way the bottom of it touched the floor when he bent his knees even a little bit.

"Then, for now, how about I give you both a hand in the lab," he suggested. "Where might I find a spare set of safety goggles?"

—

Danny was late for dinner, but he didn't miss it at least. The Fentons weren't really a regular family dinners kind of household, so when they told Danny they would be having a family dinner tonight, he knew there would be consequences for skipping out. Still, he was surprised to see a mysterious, well-dressed guest at the table when he hurried into the kitchen.

"Uh... hi?" Danny greeted, awkwardly taking a seat between his dad and his sister.

"Daniel, so nice of you to join us," the stranger greeted with a smile. "You know I think this is the best chicken casserole your mother's ever made."

"Not that it's a very high bar," Maddie joked.

"Don't say that, Maddie," the stranger said. "You're a... perfectly adequate cook."

Maddie laughed out loud.

"Um, not to be rude or anything, but... who's this?" Danny asked, jerking a thumb over at the stranger.

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't remember Vlad," his mother told her. "He's our friend from college, and you kids' godfather. He was really close with the family when we lived in Wisconsin, but since we moved, he mostly just talks with me and your father over e-mail. I'm sure we've mentioned him before."

Danny did vaguely recognize the name Vlad. This was probably the same Vlad his dad called Vladdie and gushed about while his kids tuned

"Yes, the last time I saw you, Daniel, you were only four years old," Vlad said. "At risk of sounding like an out-of-touch old man, you've certainly grown since I saw you last."

"Yeah, that tends to happen in ten years," Danny pointed out. He narrowed his eyes at Vlad, scrutinizing him. "What brings you all the way out to Amity Park?"

"Oh, I was doing some business a couple towns over, and figured since I was so close, I might as well pay a visit to some old friends."

It was a perfectly plausible excuse, especially since Danny was pretty sure his parents had mentioned their Vlad was some kind of businessman. It didn't ease Danny's suspicions at all.

Throughout dinner, Vlad maintained a casual, friendly conversation with the rest of the family, easily defusing Danny's loaded, accusatory questions. When dinner was over, Danny went straight up to his room. He'd had a long day and was hoping to turn in early, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to actually fall asleep until well after midnight, if he slept at all.

He wasn't expecting a knock on his bedroom door a few minutes later.

Vlad being on the other side of it was less of a surprise. He glared at Vlad, but the man seemed completely unperturbed.

"I have a confession to make," he said.

"Oh yeah? I'm shocked," Danny replied sarcastically.

"I didn't want to bring it up in front of everyone and put you on the spot," Vlad said. "But the truth of the matter is that your parents asked me to come in the hopes that I might be able to talk to you, commiserate, I suppose, about your recent accident in their lab."

"And why on earth would I talk to you about about it?"

"Because I know what you're going through," Vlad replied.

"No offense—actually, yes offense," Danny said, "but I'm pretty sure you have no idea what I'm going through."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, and then his blue eyes glowed a sinister red. Danny gasped and his eyes blew wide in shock.

"No offense, Daniel," he said, "but I'm pretty sure I do." He let the light fade and smiled, a little smug, but not unkindly. "May I come in?"

Danny nodded mutely and let Vlad through before closing the door behind him.

"You're like me," he said incredulously. "How?"

"The portal in which you had you own accident was not the first your parents made," Vlad began to explain. He straightened up Danny's blankets before taking a seat on his bed. "When we were in college, the three of us formed a paranormal science club, and we made a prototype portal. It didn't work, but it did turn on and... badly injured me when it did so. 

"Your father turned it on, actually. He got a little over-excited and hit the button prematurely. I was very angry at him about it for a while, but... bygones." He shrugged. 

Danny continued to stand in the center of his room, staring openly at the man who'd already made himself comfortable and was casually describing what must've been a horrific accident—if it was anything like Danny's, that is—as if it were nothing more than another boring anecdote about his past.

"I spent years in the hospital after my accident," Vlad continued. "Your parents were the only people who ever visited me. I was so unsightly after my own accident that all my other quote-unquote 'friends' couldn't stand to look at me."

"You look alright now," Danny observed.

"Ha!" Vlad barked a short laugh. "Not without effort, I assure you."

"Do my parents know you're—"

"Oh, heavens no, can you imagine the embarrassment?" Vlad scoffed. "Of all the things to do me in, ecto-acne was what did it. No, bad enough I had to suffer the nasty condition for so long, nobody needs to know how much it truly affected me."

"Ecto-acne?" Danny questioned.

Vlad waved him off. "Never mind that. Now that I've told you my story, would you care to share yours?"

"I..."

Vlad patted the empty space on the bed next to him. "You can lock the door if you're worried about someone coming in."

"No, you'll just tell my parents," Danny said. "You're their friend, not mine."

"If you don't want me to tell them, I won't tell them," Vlad refuted. "In fact I said as much to them earlier today. Death, even half-death is a very personal thing, and no matter how close I am to your parents, I would never disregard your privacy in such a matter. I may be their friend, but I'm your godfather."

"You promise you won't tell them anything?" Danny asked.

"I promise," Vlad confirmed, then smiled lightly. "Cross my heart and hope to die." 

He patted the bed beside him again, but this time Danny sat. He didn't speak at first, but after a long moment of getting his thoughts in order, he opened his mouth an began to tell his story.

"My friends and I were just... messing around I guess," he said. "I told them about my parents portal, and how they were upset because it didn't work, and they wanted to see it, so I showed them. Sam wanted to get some pictures, and she asked if she could get one of me inside. At first, I said no because I thought it might be dangerous, but... I figured the portal didn't work anyway, and it would be kind of cool, so I did it.

"She got her picture, but then, on my way out... I guess I put my hand on the wall. I don't know what happened, I felt something move under my fingers and then... the portal turned on."

"You were inside it at the time?" Vlad asked, sounding surprised. "Standing fully inside?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed. "You weren't?"

Vlad shook his head. "No, the prototype portal was only about as big as a desktop computer monitor. I couldn't have stood inside if I wanted to. I was standing in front of it when it turned on, and it... well, I suppose you could say it quite literally blew up in my face."

"Oh..." Danny got real quiet for a moment, and then asked, "Do you still remember how painful it was when it turned on?"

Vlad stiffened, and he got a faraway look on his face. "Every day," he replied. "That agony has stayed with me for twenty years."

"That's comforting," Danny grumbled.

Vlad tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I wish I could give you better news, but something that changes you on such a fundamental level was never going to simply fade away."

"The scar will, though, right?" Danny asked. "He pulled up his sleeve to reveal an angry red Lichtenberg figure sprawling across his forearms and disappearing under his sleeve. "The doctors said it should fade in a day or two, but it's been a month now and.... But you said the portal blew up in your face, and I don't see any scars there, so it will fade, won't it?"

That scar felt like it was staring at Vlad even harder than he was staring at it. His eyebrows drew together in sympathy and anguish. He reached into his pocket and his fingers closed around the small make-up kit he always carried around for touch ups.

"I'm afraid not, my boy," Vlad said apologetically, and pulled up his own sleeve to reveal the pock marks scattered on his forearm. "I use make-up to cover the ones on my face, but death scars never fade. Be grateful you only have the one."

Danny stared down at the marks with despair written all over his face.

"If it's any consolation, you do get used to them," Vlad assured him, pulling his sleeve back down to cover the marks. "It will always remind you of what happened every time you see it, and the memories will always hurt, but the pain, like all pain, gets boring after a while, and starts to carry less weight."

"Really?" Danny covered up his own scar again, but looked up a Vlad hopefully.

"Yes, really," Vlad said. "Humans are the most adaptable creatures on the planet, and, despite everything, you are still human to some extent. As am I."

Danny smiled a bit at that. He'd be ruminating on the fact that he wasn't fully human anymore for the past month, and the reminder that he was still human, at least in part, was more than welcome. It was a nice reprieve, actually.

"How long did it take for you to realize you had changed?" Vlad asked. "Not long, I suspect."

"No, not long at all," Danny said with a slight laugh. "I went into the portal human and came out a ghost, so that was my first clue. When Jazz and my parents came down in a rush after hearing my screams, I was able to change back just on impulse, although I had no idea how I did it at the time. I think maybe I just passed out and turned human automatically.

"Then I got rushed to the hospital."

"So... it was instantaneous for you?" Vlad asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah... it wasn't for you?"

"No, it wasn't," Vlad said, his shoulders slumped and his face fell. "My... condition took much longer to kill me than that. It was years before it had run its course and I discovered how it had changed me and what I could do."

As soon as he saw the pity on Danny's face, Vlad averted his gaze. It had been twenty years since his accident. He didn't need pity anymore. He never had.

"That sounds awful," Danny observed.

Vlad almost laughed at how obvious the statement was.

"Yes, quite," he agreed. "But I've had plenty of time to come to terms with it. You, on the other hand, are still in the existential angst part of your journey. 'What am I? Where do I belong? What do I do with myself? How should I use these powers? Did I even deserve to half-survive? Should something like me even exist?' these questions and more keeping you up into the wee hours of the night. Am I close?"

"Dead on, actually," Danny said, his shoulders sagging. "I haven't been sleeping very well lately."

Vlad put his hands behind him and leaned back slightly on the bed.

"Well that's in part because you simply don't need as much sleep as you once did," Vlad noted. "The more time you spend in your ghost form, the less sleep your human form needs. It's all to do with the delegation of energy. 

"Ghosts and humans regain energy and use energy in ways that are too different to be compatible with each other. Your human brain, body, and internal functions can't consume energy when you're in ghost form, so you don't need to recharge as much in human form, and vice-versa. You may have noticed you don't get hungry as much as you used to either."

"Yeah, actually," Danny confirmed, a little incredulous.

Vlad smiled at him. "I had to figure all this out on my own, but if you accept my help, you won't have to go through all the trial and error that I did. I'm more than happy to teach you. 

"I'm only planning on staying in Amity park for a few days because I do have to get back to my business eventually, but I'll give you my contact information, direct line so you won't have to go through my assistants. That way, if you have any questions, or need help with anything, you can reach out to me, and I'll do my best to answer any question you may have."

For a long moment, Danny just stared at Vlad, like he was trying to see through the thick layer of make-up on his face to the scars beneath. Vlad inhaled deeply and tried not to squirm under the teenager's gaze.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Danny asked. "Just 'cause you're friends with my parents? You barely know me."

"For the same reason you were willing to open up to me, even though you don't have any memories of me before today, I suppose," Vlad answered with a shrug. "It's... it's a relief to know that I'm not alone anymore, especially after all the years. It's terribly lonely to be one-of-a-kind, isn't it?"

Danny nodded and looked down at the floor.

"Besides, even if we don't know each other very well anymore, I'm still your godfather," Vlad reminded him. "I do rather have a responsibility to be nice to you, even if you were a wretched, awful boy, which, thankfully, you don't seem to be."

The not wretched, not awful boy chuckled softly.

"Now, is there anything else you want to talk about?" Vlad asked. "It's getting fairly late."

Danny shook his head. "But uh... thanks for coming all this way just to talk to me."

"I would have flown in from another country," Vlad assured him. He stood up from the bed and straightened his clothes. "Would you uh... like a... hug or something? Physical affection isn't really my forté, but—"

"No," Danny cut him off. "No hugs, thanks."

"Good, good," Vlad agreed awkwardly. "Ah!"

He reached into his pocket and took out one of his business cards. On the back, he wrote his personal phone and email address, along with the words 'direct line', so that Danny would be able to reach him directly.

"Hold onto that, reach out whenever you need to," he said, handing the card to Danny. "Might I suggest that, now that you don't need as much sleep as you used to, you use the extra time to work on your homework? Your parents tell me your grades have been slipping since the accident, and while that's perfectly understandable, you really ought to try to maintain at least a 'C' average. 

"Trust me, you don't want to be in high school any longer than is absolutely necessary, I assure you. Your life will improve dramatically after high school graduation, and anyone who says 'high school is the best years of your life' is an idiot of the highest caliber. I spent a good portion of my college years hospitalized, and it was still better than high school. You do not want to be held back a year."

"Noted," Danny said, looking vaguely horrified at the prospect. "I'll get going on that homework."

Vlad nodded curtly and left the room. He headed down the hall to Jack and Maddie's bedroom, but of course they hadn't gone to bed yet, so instead he headed down to the lab to say goodbye before he went to his hotel for the night. They had offered him their couch, since they didn't have a guest room, but he had politely refused. It wasn't as if he needed to save money on this trip, and the four-star hotel he'd found was much more comfortable than their old, stained couch.

"Still working into the wee hours, I see," he commented when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Vladdie!" Jack greeted, boisterously as always. "How did it go with Danny."

"It went very well," Vlad replied. "After I told him about my experience, he was willing to open up to me about his—although as I expected, he asked me to keep it between us. Still, I think you'll find his demeanor will start to improve now that he had some one he can relate to. He'll probably never be exactly as he was before, but no one ever is."

Maddie stepped over and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you Vlad, truly," she said into his ear, and he blushed so hard he feared that Jack might see it through his many layers of foundation. "You're a life-saver."

He cleared his throat when she let him go. Even after all these years of being happily friends with her and Jack, his feelings for her hadn't gone away entirely. They probably never would.

"Think nothing of it," he said. "I'm always happy to come to the aid of my god-children, and to you."

She smiled at him, and Jack gave him a hearty pat on the back that nearly bowled him right over. Another thing that hadn't changed after all these years was that Jack still didn't know his own strength.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I only came down for a brief chat and to say goodbye—"

"No! You're leaving already Vladdie?" Jack looked positively crestfallen.

"Relax, Jack," Vlad said. "I'm only going to my hotel for the night. I'll be back tomorrow. The three of us have a lunch appointment, remember? And I agreed to go bowling with you on Saturday. I'm staying in town for six days, you dope." He shook his head, though he couldn't deny it was just a bit fond.

"Oh, hehe. Right," Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Wouldn't miss it, Jack," Vlad said. "And it's been a delight as always, Maddie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Vlad!" they both called up after him as he ascended the basement stairs with a hidden smile.

[ghostboidanny]

do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do (he's a phantom)

[ghostboidanny]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 8

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

Vlad poured himself a glass of brandy and collapsed into his favorite armchair.  He stared at it for a moment, then tossed it back.  He stared at it some more, then heaved himself up out of the chair and went back to his liquor cabinet.  He took out the vodka and went back to his chair.  

“I just don’t understand what went wrong,” he said, morosely.  “Everything was going so well.  We were bonding over our powers, football…  He liked his room, didn’t he?  He didn’t get bored, did he?”

The Dairy King sighed.  “I think it’s more that you weren’t honest with him, dontcha know?”

“I was honest!” protested Vlad.  He wrestled briefly with the lid of the vodka bottle.  “I didn’t lie to him.”

“You didn’t tell him the whole truth either, Vlad,” said the Dairy King.  “Phantom might just be a boy, but he’s perceptive.  You’ve said so yourself.”

“But he would’ve picked a fight with me if he thought something was wrong!  That’s what he always does.”  He tilted back the bottle.  “That’s what he always does.”

“This isn’t exactly an always situation,” said Dairy King.  “You’d act a bit differently than usual if you lost your memory and then a bunch of strangers started telling you that you’ve got to pick one of them to live with forever, dontcha know?”

“But he should’ve, even if just out of curiosity!  He’s nothing if not curious.  It’s incredible how nosy he is.  If he thought I was hiding something, he would have wanted to know what I was hiding!”

“Mm,” said the Dairy King, retrieving a bottle of Dooley’s from the cabinet.  He poured himself a respectable amount, then cut it further with milk.  

Vlad watched him through half-slitted eyes.  “Unless,” he said, slowly, “he already knew what it was I was hiding.”

The Dairy King took a big gulp of his drink.  

“Did– Did you tell him?” demanded Vlad.  “Why would you do that?”  He didn’t realize he’d gotten to his feet until the Dairy King flew away.  

“I had to!  Think about how he’d feel when he found out, why dontcha?  You think you fought before?  That’d be nothing!  He’d be furious, and rightly.”

“He’d have gotten over it,” said Vlad.  “And he would’ve had these days to balance out those ones.”

“He’d have gotten over it?  Like he got over how you first met?  How you revealed yourself the first time, demanding that he stand aside while you kill his father and imprison him in a box.”

Vlad sat down again and slouched into the chair.  “I wasn’t going to really kill Jack.”

“You sent those vultures after him to beat him up,” said the Dairy King.  “That’s not a good first impression, dontcha know?”

Vlad grumbled.  

“He never did get over it, did he?”

“No,” said Vlad, grudgingly.  

“So.  There ya go.  This way, he doesn’t have anything to get over.”

“But what if he doesn’t pick me?  Us?  I’m the only one who has any idea what it’s like to be a half ghost.  I’m the only one that can really take care of both sides of him.  And picking Jasmine’s all very well and good, but the others?  How can I trust them with him?”“Ah, well, you don’t need to,” said the Dairy King, patting Vlad’s shoulder.  “You just need to trust him, dontcha know?”

[ghostboidanny]

Guess who got dragged into another fandom 👀

At first it was just fanart. Then all of a sudden I was reading multiple fics a day and thinking up aus and hcs

Anyways here are some doodles.

[ghostboidanny]

If anyone knows about wanting impossible things, knows the pain of wanting to be loved by someone who will never reciprocate, it's Vlad. And that's the irony of it; the only one who truly understands Dani's torment is the rotten-to-the-core cause of it, and he doesn't even know he's the object of his unwanted child's all too familiar obsession.

Cold indifference. Dani almost wishes Vlad would viciously hate her instead, just so he would care about her existence. She wishes that she could be the indifferent one, that she could go a single day without thinking about a family and a father she'll never have. Or that her hatred for him would hurt him, even a little. Or that her hatred would stop feeling so much like love.

(another snippet in the cold hands continuity, a slow burn cheese melt reconciliation scenario in which a lost Dani cares too much and a tired Vlad stops caring about anything altogether)