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#Danny desperately trying to keep them from meeting Jazz because it's all over for his days of eating junk food if that happens
spacedace · 1 year
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Okay but the Justice League finds out their new baby hero teammate Phantom is the Ghost King by virtue of the Fright Night showing up while they're in the middle of a meeting, looking terrifying and such and scaring the shit out of everyone- even more so when Constantine starts freaking out over the fact that the sworn night of the King of the Infinite Realms is in the Watchtower what the fuck that's apocalyptically bad Pariah Dark is supposed to be locked the fuck up forever - but instead of trying to smite them all or yeet them into the nightmare dimension he just pulls out a space themed packed lunch??? And gives it to Phantom??
And the mildly eldritch giant murder ghost is talking about how "The Queen Mother commanded me to ensure you ate my Lord, she says you missed your morning meal."
And Phantom is just grumbling about over protective sisters and "there's a cafeteria i would have been fine" what the fuck is happening right now?
What do you mean "oops you forgot" Phantom I thought the ghost thing was just a theme!
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tomboy014 · 8 months
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Dun Dun Dunnn!!! Arkham Security Guard Danny's Epic Backstory! with Dick Grayson
I fell in love with the Arkham Guard AU by @xy-is-i and like most projects I work on, rather than starting where the story starts, I end up going backwards and delve into the backstory.  And I mean waaay into the backstory.
Because while the stories might start when the Bats run into Danny and Jazz working at Arkham Asylum isn’t where they first met.
Long, long ago, through shenanigans unknown, Robin and Phantom became friends, and honestly, they both really needed it. 
Dick Grayson, age 16, has been Robin for a while, but this is so early in the day that there just aren’t many teen heroes or sidekicks yet.  He’s basically pioneering the field of child heroes.
For Danny, 14, Sam and Tucker are great, but there are just some parts of superhero-ing that they just don’t get when you don’t have to hide a secret identity. 
Batman, for his part, does not approve of the friendship.  He’s already not a fan of metas in his city, but when the two of them get together, the chaos twin energy between Dick and Danny multiplies.  Worse, it brings about the pun-pocalypse, and there are only so many puns Bruce can take.  And then there’s the sibling discourse…
After all the stories Danny has told about his family, Dick is desperate to have a little sibling of his own, and the two repeatedly gang up on Batman to adopt another kid.  Their acting may be stilted, but the efforts are constant.
It never works.  Bruce doesn’t have empty nest syndrome yet, and tiny, homicidal Dick was already more than he could handle while he was trying to figure out how to adult, but he also can’t stand that he’s disappointing Dick.  Alfred isn’t helping either; he wants more grandkids.
And there’s no way in HELL that he’s adopting Phantom.
But for Robin and Phantom, they finally have someone they can talk to who gets it.  They can vent about their rogues, get help with homework, bitch about balancing their vigilantism with going to school, talk about whatever TV they’ve been watching, anything and everything.  It’s not uncommon to see them hanging off the Gotham gargoyles or grabbing a bite on top of the Nasty Burger.
There’s an unspoken rule between them that neither pries into the other’s personal life or secret identity, but as they get more comfortable with each other, little things slip out.  Then more.  Numbers are swapped, bits and pieces about their families come out. 
Later on, homes and secret hideouts are visited and they know each other’s first names.  It’s not a problem for Dick to go to the Fenton’s, but technically, Danny isn’t allowed in the Bat Cave or the Manor.  Those visits happen behind Batman’s back, and they were almost caught when they hid in the chandelier before Danny remembered he could turn them invisible. (Alfred encourages the friendship and bakes extra cookies once when he finds out Danny is over.) 
And eventually the relationship grows until they’re comfortable enough to swap full names.  No more secrets.
Dick likes going over to Danny’s place since it’s a chance to feel a lot more normal, even if they have to be very careful and either stay in civilian clothes in the shared areas or stay locked in Danny’s room if they’re in uniform.  Danny also goes out of his way to keep Dick from ever meeting his sister, Jazz (Danny knows he has a type).  It doesn’t stop them from swapping their numbers under the door.  (Jazz will unofficially be Dick’s therapist for years after this)
But being this close, Dick can also see just how stressed Danny is trying to maintain this lifestyle.  Doesn’t help either he has to listen to Danny’s parents go on and on about wanting to rip their own son apart, molecule by molecule.  Sure, Danny has a couple friends to help him, but he doesn’t have the same mentor or support system Dick has.  For a kid his age to be anything other than a sidekick is practically unheard of in this day and age.  Superheroes are still fairly few and far between, but Batman helped start a group called the Justice League a couple years ago with the idea that heroes could help each other.  Maybe there’s something there…
So, Dick starts the Teen Titan.  He had originally intended for Danny to join him as one of the founding members, but are you kidding?  Jump City is on the opposite side of the country!  He has school! and parents! (That’s the point, Danny. We’re trying to get you away from the parents that want to dissect you) He can’t just up and leave home and run halfway across the country!
So, Dick found the other iconic members and still joined the Titans, but Danny will always have an open invitation to join them and a room at the Tower, something Danny does occasionally take advantage of.  Jump City doesn’t spawn as many natural portals as Gotham, but he visits whenever he can and basically haunts the tower the entire month of December to get away from his family.
Still, the distance and growing up are hard on Dick and Danny, and they grow more distant over the years, but they’ll always have each other’s backs in an emergency.  Dick was there when Danny thought he was turning into a monster (it was just ghost puberty).  Danny stole the Spectre Speeder so they could scour the Ghost Zone after Jason died.  And Danny would eventually become godfather to Dick’s daughter, Mar’i. 
But things cooled down between them… at least until a panicked Danny called because his sister just took a job at Arkham…
Next>>
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submission by @cj-productions
Hi! It's the video diary anon, I'm not sure if sending an Ao3 link would work so I'm submitting the fic along with the link-
In the past ten hours, Danny could confidently say that his life had gone to shit.
To think it was all because he was stupid enough to trust his parents not to look through his stuff.
 Danny had been having a pretty okay day, all things considered. Him, Sam, Tuck, Jazz, Elle and Val had all gone out for the day to take his mind off it being his second death day. 
The constant company since after breakfast had been a little exhausting, but appreciated since it kept his mind off things. Now that he was on his own at the moment (Jazz had to get back to campus, his parents didn't know about Elle so she was staying with Val, who was still getting used to finding out about,Tucker had a family reunion tomorrow afternoon and Sam was technically grounded.) (her Grandma could only cover for so long.)
His thoughts were getting darker,  like they had his first death day. He should probably make a video diary about it, it was a little late so his mom and dad should be in the lab by now. That gave him pretty much free reign to say what he wanted, just had to be a little quieter than usual since their newest project involved less hunting and more actual scientific studies.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he walked up the steps to his front door and opened it.
"Mom, Dad, I'm home!" He called out, just in case they hadn't gotten to work yet.
He paused at the sight of the lab door wide open. His parents may not be the best at lab safety, but they had always had the common sense to shut the door when working on projects. 
Now that he was thinking about it, it was unusually silent. 
"Mom! Dad? Where are you?" he dashed into the house, instantly worried that something had happened.
"Mo-" Danny's heart stopped as he rounded the corner into the living room, "shit."
They had found them, his video diaries from the last two years all in a folder he had made were open on his laptop. The newest one from last week looking like it had just been watched.
"Shit."
"Spook! Get out of my boy!" 
Oh Shit.
Danny whipped around to see the barrel of the bazooka pointed right at him and his Dad behind it. His Mom holding the weapon they had built last week in her hand beside Dad.
"Danny sweetie! It's going to be alright,  your just being overshadowed," Mom said in the voice she used when she would tell him in Jazz that ghost were things and not people. That the dead felt no pain. 
"What? No! Mom, Dad please let me explain"- He backed up a little to not look them both in the eyes, only to be met with goggles -" I am Phantom, I'm a halfa like my video diaries said!"
"Oh hun, that's not true, Phantom was just trying to get you on it's side so it could get more control over you." She sounded like she was talking to a fucking five year old.
"Yeah, no," Danny said, regretting coming home the more his parents spoke, "I am Phantom, so please stop calling me an it. You know I hate that." 
"Danny boy, just stay still and we'll blast that dastardly Spook out you in no time! Then you'll see what's actually happening." His dad chimed in, acting like he wasn't pointing a weapon at him.
"No! Didn't you two watch all the videos? Which, now that I'm thinking about it, why did you do that? You promised you wouldn't go through my stuff," Danny questioned, desperately hoping they would say no, that they had only watched a few and it was a misunderstanding.
"We did, it's honestly terrifying how much Phantom influenced has had on you," his mom said, "we're so sorry we didn't notice sooner, but we're not sorry about the looking through them. You've been being manipulated!"
"So, you watch all of them and you still think I'm getting overshadowed?!" Danny yelled, "Are you kidding me? I may not remember everything I've said but I sure as hell know it's proof that I'm not getting overshadow-"
He got cut off by the feeling of the bazooka's ecto blast hitting him square in the chest. 
He stumbled back, hitting the wall as he looked up at his parents, only to be meet with smiles. 
"Sorry Danno, your eyes started glowing green! We had to get rid of the spook as soon as possible," Jack said. Like he hadn't just shot him, like he hadn't betrayed what little trust he had left for his parents and then fucking shot him. On purpose. 
"Why don't we take you down to the lab and give you a little check up, okay?" Maddie said with that fucking tone, again, as she went to grab his arm.
Yeah, fuck no. 
Danny grabbed his laptop, went intangible and shot up the stairs to his room. He got his emergency bag from in the floor boards and his overnight bag from his closet. He zipped open the overnight one and stuffed it with all of his things that he could, adrenaline keeping him from shutting down.
He hesitated when he was done, deciding whether or not he should go to the hideout him, Sam and Tuck had claimed for themselves or if he should go to the Zone. 
"YOU DAMN SPOOK! GET BACK HERE AND GIVE US BACK OUR SON" was shouted, followed by the sound of the bazooka powering back up.
Zone it is then, he wasn't risking the hideout getting found.
Shifting into his ghost form, he grabbed his bags, took one last look at his now barren room and flew straight down to the basement, ignoring the sounds of his door bursting open behind him.
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Danny had been flying for what felt like hours before he got  to the Far Frozen. He had considered going to Clockwork but had decided against it cause of his undoubtedly horrible ecto burn on his chest. Clockwork's lair was further and it had probably needed treatment desperately an hour ago. 
Now he was sitting in the village medical center numb, most likely disassociating, while Clockwork and Frostbite talk about what they're going to do about Jack and Maddie over in the next room.
It was only then it really hit him, that they had heard him poor his heart out, seen him break down and cry, learned about almost all of the shit he's been through, and still decided to shoot him. 
It felt like his core was screaming in pain as he curled up and cried from the betrayal he felt. Something he had bracing himself for back when had come out to them four years ago. Something he had been promised they would never do. 
Then again, he always kind of knew this reveal wouldn't end well. He just had hoped they wouldn't shot.
He guess he should have hoped it wouldn't be one of the larger weapons instead. 
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bruh 😭
thank you for sharing ❤️
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dani-halfa · 4 years
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Danny Fenton appreciation post
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Danny as protagonist is a very interesting character. He's a complex teenager with both virtues and flaws. Throughout the series he learns how to control his powers and the responsibility that comes with having them.
On the surface, Danny is your average teenager: He likes hanging out with his friends, wants to fit in, likes to have some fun every once in a while and is a bit impulsive.
One defining characteristic of Danny is how he's struggles with his own insecurities. He's not very popular at school and is often the target of bullying, specially from Dash who frecuently teases him in the series.
One of the reasons Danny is considered "weird" by his classmates is because of his parents: They are ghosts hunters. They sometimes embarrass Danny in front of his peers without meaning to. This has lead him to have a few arguments with his dad like it was shown in 'A million dollar ghost'.
His own insecurities sometimes cause problems with his friends as well. For example, in "Attack of the Killer Garage Sale" he left his friends behind to hang out with the 'popular kids', who didn´t care too much abou him.
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Danny dumps on himself many times during the series, in 'My Brother's keeper' he describes himself as a "screw up" and believes he's loser:
"Great, he (the ghost) got away again. Another ringing endorsement for the town screw-up." (Blaming himself for not being able to catch the ghost)
He also has a complicated relationship with his ghost half. He thinks he's a freak of nature because of his ghost powers.
Spectra: "What are you? A ghost trying to fit in with humans? Or some creepy little boy with creepy little powers?"
Danny: "Both! Uh...neither! I don't know."
Spectra: "You're a freak! Not a ghost, not a boy! Who cares for a thing like you?"
He's usually very afraid of people finding out about his secret identity as a ghost. Since ghosts are seen are evil in Amity Park he's scared that they would not accept him or would try to hunting him.
One of his deepest fears is his parents finding out about his secret and trying to run experiments on him. He knows that his parents will "accept him no matter what" but he still can't help being scared everytime he hears them talking about dissecting ghosts.
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'Identity crisis', while a funny episode, it's very important for understanding Danny.
In this episode Danny separates his superhero ghost half from his human half. In one scene we get this exchange between ghost Danny and human Danny:
Ghost Danny: "And that's the sort of irresponsible attitude that makes you such a disappointment to our family".
Human Danny: Uh.. hello. Not our family. My family. You're the full time superhero, remember?
Keep in mind that they are both part of Danny's personality which means:
1) He thinks he's a "disappointment" to his own family.
2) He sees Phantom, his ghost half, as a different person. He thinks that 'he' doesn't belong to his family. This must come from the fact that his own parents don't know about his ghost identity and thus, Danny doesn't consider Phantom a Fenton until his parents accept him for who he is.
When it comes to be the hero, Danny thinks it's job to protect Amity Park,even though no one asked him to carry the burden of such heavy task.
He sometimes blames himself for things that are out of his control or weren't his fault to begin with. He thinks that its his responsibility to fight evil ghosts from harming any humans.
A few episodes focus on him learning how to use his powers with responsibility and not taking advantage of others. 'Reign Storm' is mainly about him choosing to use his powers to stop the Ghost King instead of using them to get back to people he doesn't like.
Danny:"All of my enemies. Everything I thought I could handle, but couldn't."
Tucker:"Dude, you can't blame yourself for this. It's not your fault."
Danny:"Maybe not. But it is my responsibility."
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Danny really cares about his family and friends. He would do everything he can to protect them from getting hurt. In the episode '13' it was shown that he´s very over protective of her sister Jazz, as there was a ghost who was trying to trick her into falling in love with him.
Aside from learning to overcome his insecurities and becoming more responsible, overtime Danny learns that not every ghosts is completely evil and some of them can be friendly.
A good example of this is when he meets Cujo in 'Shades of Gray' and helps him with finding his toy that he lost when he was alive. In 'Public Enemies' he befriends Wulf, after freeing him from Walker, who was keeping him prisioner.
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It's worth of pointing out that Danny knows there are times to talk and times to fight. At the start of the series he usually prefers using his fists first before asking questions but as he matures, he starts to see when it's better to solve conflicts when fighting is not necessary.
Another flaw he has its that he's a bit short tempered. He often lets he temper get the worst of him, which makes him have arguments with his friends and not think things straight. But,to be fair, his life is a bit difficult: having to fight ghosts at night, getting late for school, being bullied and not knowing how to manage his time must be exhausting for a teenager. It's not suprising he's bit moody in some episodes.
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For my last note i think it's important to talk about talk about his rivalry with Vlad Plasmius as their relationship in the series is quite interesting.
In a way, Vlad exists to remind Danny of everything he shouldn't be. Vlad prefers to use his ghost powers for his personal gain. He cares very little about how his actions affect others. He sees people as their pawns. He usually manipulates them into doing what he wants.
Vlad sometimes likes teasing Danny about how they very alike, and in part, that's a bit true, they are both half ghosts who gained their powers after an lab accident. They are unique, since there are barely more halfas outside them.
Danny has shown to be manipulative when it comes to dealing with him. He knows that Vlad is very emotionally vunerable since he is desperate for Danny to become his ¨son¨. He takes advantage of this to trick Vlad and beat him in his own mind games.
In conclusion: Danny is complex character who grows into a confident superhero overcoming his own insecurities and flaws. He may not be perfect, nevertheless he cares about family and friends and it´s always going to be there to protect Amity Park.
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geekgirles · 3 years
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Your Heart
A centuries-long feud between two of the world's most mysterious and otherwordly species is put to a halt by a sudden crisis. Danny Phantom, unofficial protector of Amity Park and indisputable King of the Ghost Zone, seeing no other choice, must make a risky decision for the sake of his people and loved ones.
But can a ghost truly trust a witch given their people's history? Or will he fall under the spell of the hypnotising Queen of the Witches of Amity Park?
READ ON AO3
Word Count: 5725
CHAPTER 1 -- Desperate Measures
Neon green.
Neon green eyes. 
The same sight that has accompanied him ever since that fateful day when he was fourteen and he entered his parents’ portal to the Ghost Zone.
The very first time he looked himself in the mirror after the accident he was greeted by those very same eerily green eyes, coupled with no little amount of panic and anxiety. And how could he not be frightened at the sight? Not only his eyes had changed colour, he himself had drastically transformed, too. 
What once was a cascade of black hair falling down his face had become an avalanche of white strands. The black and white jumpsuit he’d worn as he entered the portal was still black and white, but the colour scheme was reversed. Surprisingly, instead of looking even paler than usual, his complexion gained a healthy tanーas soon as he learned what he had turned into, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the ridiculous notion of a dead guy having more flesh-coloured skin after dying. He couldn’t even recognise his own voice! And it wasn’t the typical “my voice sounds different now that I hear it recorded” type of different. No. There was a certain...echo to it. 
Just what had he turned into?
As that first excruciating month after the accident would prove, he’d become a half-ghost, half-human hybrid.
He, Danny Fenton, was a halfa, as the locals liked to call him. 
And by ‘locals’ he didn’t mean the people living in his hometown, Amity Park. He meant the ghosts living in the Ghost Zone. The parallel dimension to Earth that his parents had dedicated years to find, hence the creation of the Ghost Portal that led to the start of his rare condition. 
And no, he couldn’t say ‘unique’ because there was another halfa that had been around for twenty years prior to his own accident. But he wasn’t going to go in detail about that; thinking about the fruitloop always put him in a bad mood. And he already had enough on his plate as it was. 
To say his first year as a halfa was difficult would be an understatement, maybe as much of an understatement as it would be to call the sinking of the Titanic a midnight swim. 
His first year with ghost powers had been brutal. There was just too much to take into account when living a double life. And if having a secret of such magnitude could take its toll on an adult, then that was nothing compared to what it could do to the already delicate psyche of a teenager. Wait, psyche? He wondered to himself, Where did that come from? Maybe Tucker is right and I need to meet some new people… Psychological talks are always a tell-tale sign that I’ve been spending too much time with Jazz.
But it was true, wasn’t it? 
While his classmates at Casper High worried about pimples, or getting their first girlfriends or boyfriends, or fitting in with the A-listers, thoughts of his secret being discovered plagued his mind 24/7. It was a miracle he hadn’t outed himself the moment he got his powers, given how little control he used to have over them. 
And it wasn’t like he could just train his powers and figure out what to do from there in peace. Oh, no. That would’ve made things easy for him and, as he would come to learn over the years, the universe just loved making things unnecessarily difficult for him. He was the cosmos’ favourite chew toy. 
No, of course not. He had to learn to use his powers while countless mischievous ghosts set out to complete whatever crazy agenda they had or to pummel him to the ground materialised in Amity Park for the first time in...let’s see...ever?
He also met the fruitloop which, of course, always brought lots of pleasant memories of an obsessive psycho attacking him, mocking him, drooling and pointlessly flirting with his mum, trying to kill his dad, only to then do a complete 180 and try to convince him to abandon his ‘idiot father’ and join him as his own son… No, no! Not going there! He really couldn’t afford losing his temper at the moment. 
His only saving grace those first few months had been his best friend, Tucker Foley and, some time later, his older sister Jazz. 
Tucker was the first to know about his secret because he was there the day of the accident. Though not a fan of the paranormal, Tucker was really into technology; always had been. Unfortunately, that earned him the nickname of ‘Techno Geek’ back in their high school days. But it was precisely that interest in the crazy inventions his parents often came up with that had led them to checking out the, then busted, Ghost Portal. And it had been his friend’s conviction that the two of them could surely make it work that had led to his molecules getting rearranged. 
Jazz was a completely different case. 
Growing up with ghost-hunting parents, meaning they focused their inventions on the paranormal side of life (and that included ectoplasm-filled dinners), Jazz had taken it upon herself to be the ‘responsible, trustworthy, and caring’ (her words, not his) older sister. Since they were little, his sister wholeheartedly believed it was up to her to make sure her brother was safe and got the attention he needed, seeing as their parents could be scatterbrained, at best. 
It goes without saying that such a mindset, though appreciated as they grew up, turned her into a meddlesome know-it-all in the eyes of any younger sibling. But if the aforementioned younger sibling happened to have developed ghost powers just as he hit puberty...well, that made her a nightmare. 
The first few months Danny tried keeping his sister at arm’s length, much to her chagrin. But she eventually learned his secret anyway and kept it away from their parents, something her little brother could never thank her enough for. 
How did she learn his secret? According to her, she found out during Danny’s first encounter with the misery-inducing ghost known as Penelope Spectra. But she didn’t reveal that she knew until a certain turn of events.
Said turn of events?
In his shortsighted search for power, the fruitloop had freed Pariah Dark, the dreaded Ghost King, from his eternal slumber and imprisonment. And not only did he free an ancient, power hungry spectre, he also stole the Ring of Wrath, the powerful item Dark needed to gain infinite power alongside the Crown of Fire already in his possession, and took it with him to Amity Park, endangering everyone in the process. 
Pariah’s plans to conquer the Ghost Zone anew, only this time he coveted Earth as well, had led to many events in a surprisingly short amount of time. But the most surprising of them all was his ascension to the throne of the Ghost Zone. 
After an agonising battle where he risked his very life from merely trying to go toe to toe with the tyrannical spirit, his quick decision-making made a difference that day. Stealing the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire from Pariah Dark in an attempt to keep such raw power away from his person, Danny finally succeeded and imprisoned him once and for all inside the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. 
That day, he saved both his world and the Ghost Zone. 
That day he became Danny Phantom; Amity Park’s greatest hero.
...until he, and everyone who had previously been celebrating him, found out that a link between him and the ring and crown had been formed after he defeated Pariah Dark, which made him the new ruler of the Ghost Zone. 
All at the tender age of fourteen.
At first, he tried bargaining with the Observants and Clockwork, ghosts who would act as his rule’s Council from them onwards; he tried convincing them of how unfitting he was to rule an entire dimension. And to this day, he still maintained that belief. Back then he was fourteen, he couldn’t even drive, let alone rule over an entire race he barely knew the basics of! Many of the Ghost Zone’s inhabitants were his enemies, on top of that. Just because they’d agreed to fighting by his side during Dark’s return didn't mean they would suddenly be okay with him being the boss of them! What’s more, many of them would surely challenge him for the throne; his rule would be forever accompanied by war and anarchy! And most importantly, he was half-human. How could someone like him, who had an entire life outside the Ghost Zone, ever be fit to be its king?
But the Observants and Clockwork would have none of it. 
The Ghost of Time took advantage of his “I know everything that could and will happen” powers to toy with his weakness: protecting his home and loved ones. Clockwork simply pointed out that, as the new Ghost King, he could actually keep a closer eye on his subjects than he did in the Human World, and use his position to protect Amity Park from ghosts by merely implementing some laws. Not to mention, that due to the sheer power he would possess, most of his adversaries would have to be complete morons to even entertain the thought of challenging him, meaning the amount of ghost attacks his hometown endured would decrease drastically just with him as their ruler. And, of course, there was the issue with Vlad… As Clockwork would helpfully remind him, if he didn’t accept his position as new king of the ghosts, then Plasmius was sure to take advantage of it to claim the Ring of Wrath and the Crown of Fire for himself. 
And a world ruled by Vlad Plasmius promised to be a thousand times worse than anything Pariah Dark could submit his subjects to. 
All of it, every single point in his favour, Clockwork said completely offhandedly. As if he were talking about his plans for the weekend instead of slowly but surely bending Danny’s decision to what he and the Observants believed was the best outcome. Every word was uttered as if he didn’t know the, then, ghost boy would do anything to prevent such a terrible future from happening. 
As if the choice was truly his to make. 
And that led him to where he was now, seven years since he accepted his newfound role. 
In some ways, he remained the same. 
His hair was still the same snow white mess falling down his face. His green eyes were still vibrant and alert, if perhaps filled with a maturity and sense of responsibility that weren’t always there. His skin was still the same tanned complexion he wished he could get after sunbathing, rather than the nasty burns he would easily get. And most importantly, he was still doing his best, dedicating every single minute of his life, to doing the right thing, to protecting the innocent, and to trying to balance his responsibilities as Danny Phantom, the Ghost King and unofficial protector of Amity Park, and Danny Fenton, an university student trying to get his degree in Astrophysics while keeping his parents and acquaintances in the dark when it came to his secret. 
He still loved space and, albeit harder to achieve, he still dreamed of eventually becoming an astronaut. His sharp wit and tongue had only been honed with the passage of time; his ability to outsmart and to get his opponents to lower their guards enough to defeat them had saved his butt countless times over the years. Deep down, he was still the same Danny. The kind, compassionate, and caring boy who wanted to ensure everyone was safe. Sometimes at the price of his own mental health. 
But for every single thing that had remained unchanged, many more evolved alongside the boy.
For starters, he no longer was a boy, but a man. At twenty-one, there was no trace of the baby fat that once adorned Danny’s face, having been replaced by a sharp jawline and sculpted muscles caused by several years of physical exertion. His once scrawny figure was now replaced by broad shoulders, defined pectorals and abs, and bulging biceps. With his jumpsuit accentuating every single sinew of his body. 
The jumpsuit itself had undergone minor yet noticeable changes. The white collar covering his neck  and collarbone had gradually extended until it reached his shoulders. His biceps were now adorned by two white bracelets each, and his white gloves included several bottoms which activated the different mechanisms he had scavenged from his parents’ trash and had Tucker include in his suit over the years. Just like he traded his old belt for a far more refined utility belt, which also held several surprises. And yet, the biggest change was the logo on his chest. Or rather, the fact that he now sported a logo at all. It was a rather simple, yet witty, design. A white ghost shaped to include both his alterego’s initials; ‘DP’. 
It was rather ingenious. 
He couldn’t claim the credit for himself, though. He hadn’t created the logo. It was the strangest experience and still, one of the most touching.
One day he was flying over Amity Park, patrolling to make sure everything was as it should, when, thanks to his enhanced senses, something caught his eye. Sitting on a bench in the park was a girl but, for once, he didn’t pay attention to her appearance. He couldn’t, for he was too entranced with what she was doodling on her notebook. Doodles. That was all there was to it, really, but amongst black cats, roses, and the occasional “spooky ghost”, her design for his logo stood out. 
He asked Tucker to add it to the latest update of his suit as soon as he went back home. 
That very same logo adorning his chest was also engraved on the verdigris medallions keeping his black and white cape on his shoulders. That cape, alongside the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Wrath, were his designated attire as the Ghost King. Jazz figured he could alter his appearance a little depending on the role he played at the moment in order to avoid making the citizens of Amity Park jittery. “We want them to accept you as their protector, Danny,” she once said, “the less you remind them that you’re the current king of the Ghost Zone, the better.”
That was him. The self-appointed protector of Amity Park, and the leader of the Ghost Zone, and his highest priority would always be to ensure everyone’s safety. 
Which was why he was about to do what he was going to do. 
“Great One,” Frostbite, the honorable, trustworthy leader of the Far Frozen, called out to him, “are you certain there is no other way?”
His King appraised him with a resigned look. Frostbite and his people were some of the first ghosts to accept and respect him, immediately declaring themselves at his service after he defeated Pariah Dark. His imposing appearance, that of a hairy snow monster with sharp teeth and claws and an almost unmatched proficiency in the art of cryokinesis, hid his noble, gentle, and wise interior. The leader of the Far Frozen was an ally, a mentor, a friend...But, unless he came up with an alternative of his own, he couldn’t be of much help at the moment. Sighing, Danny shook his head. 
“There probably is, Frostbite. But we’ve already lost enough time. If we don’t act soon, who knows what could happen.”
“I would.” A disembodied voice announced from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. If he were still fourteen, that trick would’ve made Danny jump a few feet high. But that was no longer the case, and he knew the owner of the voice all too well. “High chance, it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“Have you come here to offer an alternative, Clockwork?” Danny crossed his arms. A part of him knew it was futile to expect a straight answer from the Ghost of Time, his lips were sealed when it came to revealing the future. But, somehow, he still hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to, as of date, his most reckless decision. 
In a way, the ghost’s appearance seemed fitting. With his fluctuating age and his cloaked self, carrying a staff around, he resembled the Grim Reaper himself. Depending on his answer, he could either save or doom him. 
“I’m afraid not, boy. And even if I did, I most likely wouldn’t be allowed to tell you.” Clockwork shrugged, but the smile on his face somehow made the halfa suspect he didn’t lament anything. 
 Gesturing with a hand at the child-like ghost, Danny turned to address Frostbite. “There you have it. This seems to be our only hope.”
“But, sire,” Frostbite started, worry apparent on his canine features, “surely you are aware of the risks we will be taking ifー”
“I know,” his King interrupted him with a raised hand, “you don’t have to remind me. I was hoping things wouldn’t come to this but we can’t afford to lose any more time. You said it yourself, Frostbite. Aside from a very few ghosts like Wulf, who doesn’t even fully understand the workings behind his power, they are the only ones who know how the Ghost Zone’s portals work. If we want to put an end to our current problem, we have got to ask them for help.”
Shoulders slumping in defeat, Frostbite sighed, “I know, Great One. But I cannot help but fear they will either refuse to aid us in our time of need, or agree to it only to eventually betray us.” A low growl erupted from his throat. “These are extremely treacherous and unpredictable beings, my King.”
“I’m well aware of the risk, Frostbite.” The halfa reassured his friend, putting a hand on his furry shoulder. “But think about it this way: if they refuse, we can start looking for alternatives and avoid any unnecessary trouble from them; and if they accept with any sort of hidden motive, all we have to do is keep our guards up.” 
Now presenting himself as an old man, Clockwork nodded at Danny’s words, “It’s truly all we can do.”
Seeing as there truly was nothing else they could do, the leader of the Far Frozen could only pray his King’s noble, yet dangerous, decision wouldn’t become their downfall. Sighing, he finally nodded, silently expressing he and his people’s loyalty to their king, no matter what path he chose. 
The halfa smiled at his friend’s understanding nature, but it was short lived. Squaring his shoulders, he motioned to his companions to follow him. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”
The three ghosts made their way around the corridors of the king’s lair inside the Ghost Zone. The hallways and rooms were empty, for once, since the ruler had previously given orders to stay away from his lair that day. It was a day for deliberating his next move, the last thing he needed was to be distracted by his subjects. 
He was doing this for them, after all. 
Opening the gates, they stepped out into the island, where a green-skinned, ghostly postman was waiting for them. The irony was not lost on Danny: the same ghost Vlad had used to trick his mother and him all those years ago would now be essential for his plan. 
With Frostbite and Clockwork flanking him, the young king approached the spectre, a serious look on his face. Extending out his gloved hand, he handed him an envelope. “You know what to do with this.” He stated firmly. 
Bowing his head as a sign of respect and understanding, the postman took the envelope from his hand, flying away to the nearest portal. 
All that was left to do was wait. 
....................
Purple. 
Purple eyes. 
Once again, she was greeted by the very eyes that marked her fate. Just by having violet eyes, her fate was sealed and outlined for her the day she was born. For twenty-one years she had been greeted by the same sight: striking violet eyes, glossy raven hair framing her face, and fair skin that contrasted greatly with the rest of her features. And even to this day a part of her was still surprised that it was all happening to her. 
When she was a little girl, her mother and grandma would often warn her of the future that lay ahead of her, a future she wasn’t even sure she wanted. Whenever her mother spoke of what was expected of her, it all sounded far too difficult for her little mind to understand. And worst of all, far too boring. 
Why would she want to host parties and ceremonies? She was too young to even know what they were like! Whenever her mother started talking about the parties she would attend, a bubble of excitement grew inside of her. She was going to go to the grown-up parties instead of staying at home! She was going to have fun and do whatever it was the older girls did there!
...only for her mother to burst her little bubble, as always. 
The moment she felt the slightest excitement about the things her mother told her about, the woman would then go into a hundred details that sounded anything but fun. 
No, she wouldn’t be having fun at the parties, but tending to her guests. No, she couldn’t dress however she liked once she was older, there were expectations set on her. No, she couldn’t turn anyone she disliked into a frog; of course not!
And her younger self always found herself wondering: what’s the point in being a witch if you couldn’t do anything with your magic?
Thankfully, when her mother became too much to bear, her grandma was always near. Growing up, Grandma Ida had been her role model. She was fun and understanding when her mother was strict and unyielding. She was wise and the ideal mentor when Pamela acted hysterical or unreasonable. But above all else, her Grandma understood her when she was an outcast in her own society. 
Being an outcast among witches, how cruel could destiny be?
When she was a little girl she didn’t understand she was an outcast so much as she knew something was wrong with the other girls from her clan. They were never mean to her, per se, but they also never wanted to play with her. 
Not like she was ever allowed to play much, anyway. 
She spent most of her time awake listening to her mother’s lectures, or trying to pay attention during her governesses’ lessons, or, and this was her favourite part of the day, watching her Grandma in action. 
As she grew up, she started connecting the dots, understanding the reasons behind her sheltered and lonely upbringing. 
The other girls would never say a mean thing about her, nor would they get too close to her, because she was off-limits. If they ever disrespected her, their families might find themselves in a tight situation and fall from grace. But if they ever included her in their activities, making her feel like one of them, then she could be distracted and get sidetracked from her studies and her true purpose. 
Such was the life of the future Queen of the Witches. 
Growing up, she often tried to rebel against the role imposed on her since birth. A role she was forced to play ever since she opened her eyes for the first time and that forsaken violet colour appeared from behind her eyelids. 
Although a witch didn’t exactly become the queen of her people due to their genes. That is to say, the position wasn’t inherited; it depended on the most important asset a sorceress could ever possess. 
Her affinity to magic. 
Whoever had the strongest, and hence was the most powerful spellcaster among them, was destined to be her clan’s leader. But that didn’t necessarily mean anyone could be queen either. 
That popular belief among pop culture that spread the idea that anyone could do magic if sufficiently trained was absolutely ridiculous. You were either born with the ability to do magic, or you weren’t. Period. 
Another popular misinformation humans seemed to be suckers for was the idea that magic came from ancient artefacts or spellcasting. In reality, magic came from within every witch; from their anima. Their own essence. In truth, magic was the ability to channel their essence and project it into the physical realm with the added help of their knowledge of the secrets of life. 
Because when it came to magic, there was nothing more powerful than knowing the secrets of the universe. If you knew the secret to something, you knew how to master that something. 
Based on those principles, witches chose their queen according to the strength of her anima, and although the throne wasn’t supposed to be passed down from mother to daughter, it was worth mentioning that they did have a Royal family of some sort:
The Mansons. 
The family she, Samantha “Sam” Manson, belonged to. 
And what was it that turned the Mansons into the closest thing her people had to a Royal family? Their violet eyes. 
Their eyes were a tell-tale sign of a superior kind of anima. Just like their irises, it would manifest itself into purple energy; the only kind of energy that could survive dark magic without being corrupted. Sam’s own energy manifested itself in the form of a sparkly, purple mist, confirming her potential as her clan’s greatest spellcaster. 
Sam spent the first years of her life cursing her luck. She didn’t want to be queen! She wanted to have friends, to play, to see the world from beyond the clan’s manor’s windows...She...she wanted...she wanted to live. 
For years she hated her amethyst gaze, a cruel reminder of a fate that had already been outlined for her the moment she was born and from which she could not escape. But then, her Grandma Ida, the Witch Queen before her, died when she was fourteen, and Sam learned to value her unique eye colour. 
It was the only thing she had to remember her grandmother by, after all. 
Since Ida never had a daughter, but a son who would eventually marry Pamela, a lesser witch, the clan had seemingly fallen into anarchy. Several witches tried battling each other for control, while the members of the Council deliberated in search for a better solution than mindless duels that could massacrate the coven’s numbers. 
And it was during that time that Sam finally embraced what for years had been her greatest curse. 
Taking a stand, she casted a paralysing spell in the manor’s Grand Hall, forcing everyone present to stay put and listen to her. With that simple move, she achieved two things. Firstly, she got her people’s undivided attention, and secondly, she reminded them just who possessed the strongest anima. 
Although Sam would never admit it, having so many unwavering gazes looking down on her disturbed her a little, but she forced herself to go on with her plan before she lost her nerve. Using that newfound courage, she reminded everyone that, not only was she Ida’s only granddaughter, but she also had violet eyes and, as they’d just witnessed, the anima to match. She brought up the countless hours she’d spent studying to become their coven’s next queen, and she fought tooth and nail until they recognised her as the heiress to the throne. 
When the Head of the Council had reminded her of her age, still being too young to rule, Sam made a deal with them. The Council would act as her regents until her 18th birthday, when she became of age and would ascend to the throne as her Grandma, who was considered one of the best queens they’d ever had, would have wanted. In exchange, the girl promised she would dedicate those years to study and train to become the leader her people deserved. 
After much deliberation, the Council accepted her offer. 
Just as Sam kept her part of the deal. 
The four years she dedicated to her duties as future queen shaped Sam’s view on her lifelong duty. She always wanted to change the world for the better, now she had the means to do so. As Queen of the Witches of Amity Park, she would focus her efforts on diplomacy between the rest of the covens spread throughout the globe and hers. She would personally deal with any trespasser or crook who dared threaten her witches’ safety. She would focus her energy on rebuilding the link with nature her people used to profit from. 
But above all else, now that they were wandering freely around Amity Park, her coven’s home, she would protect her people from those traitors. 
No witch would suffer because of them ever again.
That was three years ago. Now at twenty-one, Sam was proud to call herself the Witch Queen, a duty and a privilege she was honoured to shoulder. 
Lost in thought, she gently stroked DeMilo’s head. The venus fly trap had been her familiar since her Rite of Passage back from her 14th birthday; it was the last ceremony Grandma Ida was able to attend. Unfortunately, the memory of her rite was tainted by a rather...unpleasant event, making it almost impossible to reminisce without the feeling of nausea creeping up on her. 
After their Rite of Passage, witches got their familiars, signalling they were finally full-fledged members of their birthclan. But while most young sorceresses got cats, or ravens, or any other animal ーsome animals being more stereotypically “witchy” than othersー, Sam got DeMilo. As unusual as getting a plant as her familiar was, it didn’t matter. The girl’s natural affinity to nature made it incredibly easier to harvest the herbs and plants they needed for their spells. 
And DeMilo was ten times more interesting than any house cat, anyways. And a hundred times more hygienic than a drooling dog. 
“You’ve been staring at the mirror for almost an hour now.” A heavily accented voice broke her out from her stupor. “And then they say I’m vain.”
Turning around, the queen found her lady-in-waiting, Paulina Sanchez, leaning against the door of her quarters, her arms crossed. At her feet lay several toiletries and different kinds of make-up. 
Avoiding her gaze, flustered, Sam apologised, “I...I’m sorry. I was waiting for you to come back with what you needed and I guess I got lost in thought.”
“No kidding,” Paulina snickered as she made her way to her Queen’s side. With a wave of her hand, she beckoned the items currently resting on the floor to float towards her, a soft pink glow enveloping them. “Is there, like, anything on your mind? Anything we should worry about? Because, last time I checked, everything was going smoothly for us. Except for that one nutcase still trying to hunt us, but nobody is taking her seriously anyway.” She shrugged, not feeling concerned in the slightest. 
Sam frowned a little at her words. She knew of the so-called witchhunter, and although Paulina was right that nobody seemed to take her seriously, it wouldn’t be unwise to keep an eye on her. The last thing they needed was another massacre like the one from The Great Burning. “No, no. Nothing like that, don’t worry.” She dismissed the idea with a motion of her hand. “I was just thinking about the past, that’s all.”
Paulina replied with a noncommittal sound as she started brushing her Queen’s hair. Normally, Sam limited herself to be pampered exclusively if she had an important meeting with the Council or the other clan leaders to attend, such as Coven Night, her people’s most sacred ceremony. But there was another reason why she had called Paulina to dress her up for. 
“Is there anything going on that I should know about?” she asked her lady-in-waiting, her eyes never leaving her reflection on the mirror. 
The Latina’s gaze hardened, “Harriet is trying to get more witches on her plan to get rid of them, but, so far, everyone seems to be loyal to you and your orders.”
“As they should.”
Unbeknownst to anyone, the Queen’s two handmaidens, Paulina and Star, were also her most trustworthy informants. They had eyes and ears all over the manor, without even using any surveillance spell. The other witches tended to look down on them due to their Valley Girl attitude, which often made them look far less capable than they really were. Which was perfect for them and Sam, because that way any possible conspirators would lower their guard around them. 
If anyone sneezed in the manor, they would tell her. 
Paulina was about to ask about what course of action they should take, when a shrill voice broke the quiet atmosphere, immediately drawing the attention from everyone present in the large house. 
Sam hastily stood up from her chair just as Star burst the doors open, surprise etched to her skin. Making eye contact with her queen, she hurriedly arrived next to her, doubling over and panting from racing all the way there. 
Concerned, Sam put a hand on her shoulder as she ordered Paulina to bring her friend some water, but the blonde stopped her with a wave of her hand. “No,” she breathed, “this...this is...too important.”
“Star, what’s wrong?” The violet-eyed girl asked. 
Instead of an answer from her handmaiden, she received a neon green envelope closed by a wax seal. If the colour of the envelope weren’t unusual enough, the seal was shaped after a glaringly familiar logo:
A ghost shaped to include two initials; ‘DP’.
In cursive, the envelope said it was directed to the ‘Witch Queen of Amity Park.’ And an array of red, capital letters was pressed against its green surface, reading:
URGENT
Sam couldn’t hold back her astonishment, a hand barely covering her gasping mouth. Absent-mindedly, as if under a spell, she took several tentative steps back, until her back collided with her vanity. She could not believe her own eyes.
The Ghost King was personally addressing her. 
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standbi-ghost · 3 years
Text
Guess I’ll Just kms
Words:  1812
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicide (technically), suicidal thoughts, panic attack
Go say hi on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387829 
In order to go ghost, Danny has to kill himself. It isn’t that bad really, but when his mom finds a journal where he keeps track of the best ways to kill himself (which sounds sketch in and of itself) and thinks he’s suicidal, he has an important decision to make.
It was a grounding feeling; the cold touch of a knife pressed to his throat. What once would’ve frightened him to no end, was now becoming something of a constant in his otherwise chaotic life. He let the knife find its keep and in seconds, his Jugular vein was sliced.
As he let the all too familiar feeling of his ghostly transformation happen, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ghastliness of his situation. Was this technically suicide? No, probably not, it’s not like he was actually dying, just, playing dead. Lots of animals do it in self-defense and this wasn’t that far off. Plus, Danny knew he didn’t want to die, or in his case, cease to exist, right?
Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he turned to see Skulker already in a fighting stance. He sighed and shot into the sky ready for the chase to begin.
-
At the cursed hour of 4 in the morning, Danny found himself sneaking into his own room. He flopped onto his mattress and let out a long, well-deserved mind you, groan.
He felt like he’d been run over by a car which was probably because that’s exactly what happened. Hey, to be fair, he had also been invisible. How was the poor driver supposed to know Danny was stupidly floating in the middle of the road? The driver was fine too, a little shaken up but he managed to phase him out of his car before any damage was done to him.
He lazily snaked his arm into his abandoned backpack and pulled out a dying black notebook barely holding itself together by a thread. There were rips, tears, and folds everywhere and a suspicious amount of green and brown stains were spattered throughout the pages. He liked to joke that it was his own personal Death Note except the only one doing any dying was him. It had started out as a way to record which death methods were quick and easiest, which were dramatic but efficient, which shouldn’t be tried again, but it had developed into a coping mechanism of sorts, some kind of morbid diary filled with a mixture rants and execution plans. He flipped to the next clean page and began to write his death-of-the-day and the events that followed.
A sinking calm settled into his core as he continued to rant about missing yet another test because of Skulker. He was halfway done with the entry when his eyes began to flutter closed, no longer being able to fight his body’s plea for rest.
He didn’t hear the soft creak of his door open, didn’t see the hand reach out and take his notebook, didn’t feel that same hand run itself through his hair, giving way for a pair of lips to kiss his forehead.
-
When his alarm went off at the usual 6 am it always did, he didn’t notice the suffocating stagnant air in the room, just stretched out his sore limbs, rubbed his eyes awake, and went on with his usual morning routine.
As he made his way downstairs, Danny made sure to annoyingly, as any younger sibling should, yell at his sister.
“Jazz I swear to the Ancients that if you try and leave without me again, I will piss your pants, you know I can’t be late again, Mr. Lancer-”
His voice trailed off when he took in the sight of his parents before him.
His dad was avoiding direct eye contact in the most obvious manner. His mom was wearing a watery smile, most likely trying to mask whatever had both his parents so tense. For a second, he panicked. Had they figured it out? What was it? Was it the mannerism, the eyes, the hair?
“Danny?”
He looked up from his panicked haze and saw concern plastered on both his parents’ faces. It looked wrong.
“Uh- where’s Jazz?” he asked, looking around in a last-ditch effort to crawl out from under their crushing gaze.
“Jazz left for school early today, something about a meeting with one of the counselors” his dad quietly responded, almost like he was tiptoeing around Danny, which set off all kinds of red flags.
For one it was hard to forget his dad could even be that subdued, the man practically radiated excitement. He also seemed, tired. Not the kind of tired you get after working at a lab all day, no, this was a soul-crushing tired, one that reflected inner turmoil. He looked away to catch his mom’s gaze only to look Danny in the eyes again, a forced smile finding its way on his face.
“Danny boy, we just wanted to talk to you about some- about how you’re doing.”
“I- uh, don’t know what you mean dad” he stuttered out.
“You’ve just been really closed off lately and, as your parents, we worry Danny.”
He turned his wide eyes towards his mother. Had he heard her right? They worried? Had he been worrying his parents? Was he a distraction? He was already indirectly messing with their inventions but now he was distracting them too. What kind of son-
“I’m fine. I mean, school’s been, uh- something, but I’ve been dealing- “
“Danny, are you suicidal?”
It came out as a whisper, but it echoed loudly in his head.
All he could do was stare, mouth agape, desperately trying to form words in his favor.
Heavy wasn’t the right word to describe the air in the room. Suffocating came closer. How was he even supposed to respond to that? If he told his parents the truth, they would hate him for keeping it a secret for so long. For lying to them, manipulating them, making a fool out of them. They would do much worse than dissect him, they would no longer see him as their son and that cut deeper than any scalpel could. On the other hand, if he lied and told them he was suicidal, they would ship him off to a loony bin. They would stuff him with pills and strip his mind away from him leaving him an empty husk of a person. And would it even be a lie? How many times had the thought crossed his mind? How many times had he begged for death at the end of an alleyway, at the bottom of a ditch, passed out at the foot of his bed, only to get up, dust off, and continue to live- no- to exist as a drone.
His breath began to pick up- could he even call it a breath? He knew if he didn’t say something, anything, his parents would come up with their own answer. What was the question again? Why couldn’t he think straight? He would lose any and all control he may have had. Was he in control? Why couldn’t he control his own body? His own mind? His thoughts were racing, and he was dragging behind them. Why was everything moving so fast? Why couldn’t he catch a break for once? He felt like a cornered animal, quite literally too. A feral growl crawled out of his throat as he backed himself into a wall, attempting to make himself look less pathetic. Attempting to make himself look like a threat. Maybe then they’ll go away. Maybe then he would stop hurting so much.
Don’t let them know you’re weak.
They’ll hurt you.
They won’t understand.
They’ll never love you.
How could they love you?
You-
“Danny”
And just like that, the fog dispersed and he was left stranded in the empty halls of his mind. He felt the cold wall behind him taunting him with its cold embrace.
“Danny it’s okay, you’re okay, breathe”
That was his mom’s voice. He felt the adrenaline seep out of him, embarrassment taking its place. That was all the confirmation they needed. He was fucked. No matter what they thought of him before, nothing could erase the scene he had just caused. Ancients he was fucked. What even was that? What normal person freaks out over a simple question?
He groaned as he let his face fall into the palm of his hands. He felt a wave of shame wash over him as his mom took him in her arms.
For a moment everything was back to normal. There was still tension in the air, but it all melted in the warm embrace of his mom.
“I found your notebook last night.”
And with that, it all made sense. He flinched out of her embrace and felt shame at seeing the hurt on her face the action caused. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his chapped lips. Of course, the one escape he had was what had exposed him. It was naïve of him to think that no one would find the notebook he practically carried everywhere. Sooner or later this had been bound to happen, he just hoped it would be later. He had been careless and now he was paying for it.
“I guess I should come clean huh?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared, terrified, but he couldn’t shake the possibility that maybe, maybe, his parents would support him, be there for him. The very thought left a warm feeling in him.
“It started a few weeks before Freshman year...”
And so, he let the dam break. 3 years filled with pain and fear poured out in a flurry of words. He found that, once he started, he couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t help but flinch as his dad reached out and took his small hands in his. He looked him dead in the eyes, searching for confirmation, that this was okay, and when Danny nodded, he pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, his mom following closely behind.
“Oh Danny, how could you not tell us?” his dad asked.
“We’re sorry for making you feel anything but loved and accepted. There is nothing you could do or become that could get rid of our love for you.”
So that’s how he found himself skipping school, in a cuddle pile with his parents, binge-watching Star Wars, Marvel movies, and the occasional Space Documentary.
And when Jazz got home after school that evening, she didn’t question the sight of her parents holding on to Danny for dear life in the middle of their living room, caught in a pile of pillows, blankets, and love, acceptance. She just smiled, shook her head, and made her way up the stairs.
She would have a talk with her brother about his mental health another time. Right now, she knew, everything would be okay.
“oh uh, you guys should probably stay far away from the red bulls in my room.”
“Wha- “
“I may or may not have filled them with arsenic...”
“Daniel James Fenton”
“It's death on the go!”
Everything would be okay.
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Text
Tug of War (Ch 4)
ch 1 - prev - next
Word Count: 2,816
Final exam season had finally come. To say the seniors of Casper High were stressed was an understatement, college application deadlines were also quickly approaching.
Wes Weston however, was stressed for a whole other reason. His attempt before winter break to awaken the angry ghostliness in Fenton wasn’t enough. He only saw Fenton ripping out all the decorations, without glowing green eyes or anything else ghostly he could catch on camera. And to make manners worse, the school’s caretaker blamed him for leaving shattered ornaments in the halls so he winded up with detention. It wasn’t even his fault!
Read on AO3 or under the cut
Stealing another glance at the classroom’s wall clock, he scowled when he realized that he still had twenty minutes to burn until his computer science exam ended. 
Might as well not let this time go to waste. Pushing aside his completed exam, he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and began to brainstorm other ways to infuriate Fenton. He stole a glance at Fenton’s sidekick, Foley, hastily writing away. Frowning, he turned back to his page. 
Meanwhile, for Danny, he has never felt this anxious ever before in his life. 
Before, when he was barely scraping by in class, he was beginning to accept that his dreams would remain as that. Just dreams. Protecting the town would always come first. He became indifferent to his grades because 1) he’d convinced himself that he was a bad student, nothing could change that, and 2) it wasn’t that important anyways. He could deal with his parents’ disappointment. 
However, after dealing with his exhausting responsibilities for a few years now, he finally learned to properly manage his time. And it showed when he found out he ended last year with a B+ average.
He told himself it was just a fluke, there’s no way Danny Fenton could get those grades. At most, he was a C- student. Yet, a tiny spark of hope flared up and drove Danny to try harder this year. Perhaps it was just a fluke, but who knows? What if it happened again?
And when it kept happening, sometimes even getting back A’s on his tests, then it hit him. He was actually capable of doing well in school. 
Allowing himself to believe that meant that his childhood aspirations were possible. But, there was always that question in the back of his mind: What if this all was just a fluke? His luck could run out anytime. He could easily fail all his exams and lose his chances. And what then?
He could not come back after letting himself believe that he had a future to look forward to. Of all the times he had barely escaped being destroyed by his enemies, it didn’t compare to the mounting fear he had of not getting into college. 
That fear was only accentuated by his stressed classmates. Danny felt ill every time he heard Star talking about all the schools her brother was rejected from, Mikey and Nathan discussing admission cutoffs, and practically everyone going into a panic when their average lowered. Even Dash was worried about meeting his minimum requirement for his football scholarship.
Thing is, Danny couldn’t even look forward to college itself. Don’t get him wrong, he likes learning, especially about space. But he would have to endure four more years of school, plus another two for a masters. 
At first, he just told himself to suck it up. It was a necessary sacrifice.
Now though, he was conflicted. He had to do his undergrad in some science-related college program to be eligible for the space program. However, what if he ended up in an undergrad program he didn’t like? He’d be stuck with it. What if college is too hard for him? He could very well fail everything and get kicked out. Then he wouldn’t even be able to continue to get a masters. And of course, the biggest question of them all: would he able to handle juggling his ghostly responsibilities and college for the next six years? Heck, with how stressed out Jazz seems these days, how much worse would it be for him?
Danny was simultaneously afraid of both getting in and not getting into college.
“Hey Danny, you alright?” asked Sam.
Like always, he pushed these worries away into that overcrowded space in the back of his mind. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” he mumbled before rereading the same sentence in his textbook for the twentieth time.
“Are you sure? We could just take a bre—”
Suddenly, his ghost sense went off.
~
Danny gripped his bleeding forearm. He just needed it to clot, then his self-healing would eventually kick in. But it wasn’t clotting. He worriedly watched as his blood tinged with ectoplasm dripped onto the floor. This wasn’t good.
He looked up at Sam with desperate eyes, who bit her lip. “Hang on, I think have something that’ll help. Be right back,” she assured before scurrying from their secluded refuge under the staircase.
She returned not even a minute later, holding a flat square object wrapped in colourful plastic. Danny’s eyes widened and before he could even protest, she unpackaged and wrapped it around his wound.
Sam’s gaze hardened when he started squirming away. “Danny, it’s just a pad.”
“Bu—”
“It’s either this or one of your socks. Now relax, we need to get the bleeding to stop before next period.”
“What’s next period?”
“Bio exam, remember?”
“Dammit.” He thumped his head against the wall.
“It’s okay, we’ve still got a bit of time bef—”
The two teens tensed as they heard footsteps coming from the height of the staircase.
“Danny, quick, hide it!” she said in a panicked whisper.
“How am I supposed to hide a bleeding arm?!” he quietly exclaimed.
She huffed at his reply before swiftly releasing her pressure on his arm, rolling up his sweater sleeve over the pad, and using his other hand to press on the wound again through his sweater.
“Ah, hello Mr. Fenton, just the man I was looking for. And Ms. Manson,” Lancer greeted, suspiciously eyeing how close the two teens were sitting. He wasn’t naive, he was aware of what some of his students get up to in these secluded areas of the school. “I’m sorry to interrupt, can I have a word with you Daniel?”
“Mr. Lancer, I swear I-I...”
“Relax, you’re not in trouble. I’d just like a moment to speak with you.”
“Uh…” Danny hesitated.
“If this is not the best time, you can always speak to me later. Although, I implore you that you should see me sooner than later on this matter.”
“Oh…okay.” He glanced at Sam, who was frowning in worry. Forcing a reassuring smile on his face, he stood up from her and followed Lancer to his classroom.
As they walked through the halls, he tried to arrange his arms in a more casual position while placing a little more pressure on the wound.
“Mr. Fenton, I recall reading that you aspire to become an astronaut from one of your essays in 9th grade,” Lancer mentioned as he unlocked his classroom’s door.
Following him into the classroom, Danny replied warily, “Uh...yeah?” How the heck did Lancer remember something so miniscule from something he wrote ages ago?
His English teacher approached his desk and grabbed something from a drawer. “Have you heard of the Young Astronauts program?” he asked, presenting a pamphlet to him.
“No?” Danny momentarily released his hold on his injured arm to accept it, only to regret when he felt something warm drip down his arm. Shit! He held the pamphlet with his index and middle finger while quickly resuming his hold, praying for nothing to bleed through his sleeve. Why won’t it clot already??
Meanwhile, Lancer scrutinized his unusual movements for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been informed that this program fast tracks you to becoming an astronaut at NASA. Though it’s very competitive, once in, you only have to complete a four year practical program before you’re fully eligible for the space program.”
“Really?” He used his thumb to flip through the brochure, getting more excited as he read the outline of the program. However, once he reached the admission requirements section, his excitement suddenly deflated. “What makes you think I can get in?”
“Daniel, if you maintain what you have right now, your grades will be good enough for the requirements. Also, I’d be more than happy to write that letter of reference for you,” he smiled warmly.
His teacher’s sincerity caught him by surprise. “Oh, uh...thanks Mr. Lancer.”
“Anytime. Now, I think there’s an email at the back to contact if you have any questions. I won’t steal anymore of your precious studying time.”
Right when Danny’s foot was out the door, Lancer spoke up again, “Actually, there’s one more thing I mean to ask. Is your arm okay?”
His question stopped Danny right in his tracks. “What do you m-mean?” he nervously asked, voice cracking.
“Well, I can’t help but notice how you’re holding your arm there,” he commented.
“I…” Danny’s brain frantically searched for an excuse. 
Lancer frowned at his hesitation. 
“It’s...it’s a temporary tattoo,” he blurted.
“Pardon?”
“Y-you know those stick-on tattoos you have to press down for like a minute? I-yeah,” Danny improvised.
Lancer blinked. He did not expect that reply at all from the boy. Though, it did make sense. “Ah, very well. See you later Daniel. Good luck on your finals.”
Danny uttered out a goodbye before he all but ran to the bathroom to check his arm.
~
Danny jumped when he felt someone poking him. Turning around, he realized it was only Sam.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“About what happened yesterday, I think you need this.” She thrusted a big first-aid kit in his arms. “We really shouldn’t resort to using my pads anymore,” she chuckled.
“But, I already have one at home though?”
“Yeah, but I think we need one here. Just keep it in your locker, okay?”
“Uh…” He suddenly thought of Wes. Would he even stoop that low to use this as evidence? Probably. Danny sighed, he better not mess with it. This kit looked pretty expensive…
“Sam, you didn’t have to go and buy this.”
“It’s no big deal. I wanted to.”
“Bu—”
“Danny, I don’t have time for this. Stop being stubborn and just take it,” she insisted.
“Fine.” He unhappily grabbed the first-aid kit. “One day I’m paying you back for everything.”
“You honestly don’t have to. Anyways, gotta go!” she blurted before hurrying to her English exam. Two seconds later, the bell rang.
Shit, their English exam! He quickly dumped the kit at the bottom of his locker and ran after her. Hopefully Wes wouldn’t make too big of a deal out of the kit.
~~
Danny turned the corner of the hall and halted in his step when he saw Wes at their locker. Nope, he wasn’t dealing with him today. There was way too much on his mind with the start of the new semester. Calculus was already proving to be the bane of his existence.
He was about to turn around but had to do a double take when he noticed Paulina was there too. Talking to Wes. Weird.
He was too far to hear what they were saying, but Danny’s former crush seemed to be really excited for some reason. Wes then pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. Danny swore he saw Paulina discreetly slip a wad of cash into his other hand before accepting the envelope.
What the heck. What could Wes possibly have that Paulina would pay that kind of money for? You know what, he wasn’t even gonna ask. He needs to start heading to chemistry. Wes could be selling drugs for all he knows; he doesn’t care. 
~
Seeing Wes that morning almost completely slipped from Danny’s mind until he approached his locker after school, this time with a backpack full of textbooks from his new classes. 
He instantly spotted a yellow sticky note on the door which read “MEET ME @ BACK FIELD - DASH” in a hastily scrawled blocky script.
The two most popular kids at Casper High both reached out to Wes today. That doesn’t just happen to anyone, especially someone like Wes. Danny couldn’t help but feel a little curious. 
Selling drugs seems a little too out-of-character for him. He’s the type of person to expose the school’s drug dealers instead of being one himself. What else could he be selling then? Test answers? No, the semester just started. 
As Danny placed his books on the top shelf, he paused when he noticed a small envelope in the very back. Squinting a bit, he saw that it had “Dash” written on it in tiny letters. Upon grabbing it, it felt like it contained something like cardstock. 
Wait. After flipping it, he realized the envelope wasn’t sealed up. And he caught the slight shine of photos peeking from inside.
Last time he heard, neither Dash nor Paulina were interested in photography...
Before he could even act on his now burning curiosity, an all too familiar voice startled him, causing him to drop the envelope in his hands. Its contents spilled all over the floor.
“Fenton, what are you doing?!” screamed Wes before stomping over to him.
“I…” Danny’s reply was lost to him when he stared in bewilderment at the photos lying on the floor. They all...they were of him. Specifically, him during a fight with Ember last week. What shocked him even more was their quality. There was one where he was kneeling, smirking almost directly at the camera while both of his hands held bright green ectoenergy, casting his face in an eerie yet alluring glow.
“You’ve been selling pictures of me??”
“What the hell Fenton? These are supposed to be for Dash!” Wes yelled angrily before crouching, carefully putting back the photos in the envelope.
“Did you not hear me? Wh—how long have you been doing this?”
“None of your business. The photos are mine, I can do what I want with them,” Wes arrogantly asserted.
Danny couldn’t even fathom the audacity of this guy. He knew Wes sometimes stalked him while he was out as Phantom. Sometimes he annoyingly distracted him with the flash of his camera. However, over time he’d realized there was really no harm to it, as long as Wes stayed out of the way. He only seemed to use the footage for his so-called “evidence”. Rather than wasting his energy getting him to leave, Danny understood that there were bigger things he should be focusing on. 
This was just crossing a line though. Danny usually doesn’t mind people making money off of his ghost half. In fact, he himself is probably the one who buys most of the unlicensed Phantom merch at Amity’s souvenir shops. But something about seeing Wes doing it too infuriated him to no end.
Instantly, Danny lunged at him to grab the envelope. Unfortunately, Wes reflexively sidestepped out of the way, and held it behind his back like a basketball a defender was trying to steal. Danny fumed, “Wes, you didn’t even bother to ask to take them! Give them back!” 
Wes kept nothing more than an irritated expression on his face as he continued to hold back the envelope.
Just before Danny was about to take another leap at the red-haired creep, he suddenly heard Dash’s voice from behind.
“Hey Fenturd, get outta the way. I need to talk to Weasel for a sec.”
Danny snapped his head around to see the school’s quarterback standing there impatiently. Fortunately, because of his growth spurt a year or so back, Dash no longer towered over him. Also, around that time, the bully has gradually moved on to harassing the smaller newer kids at Casper. Dash really wasn’t a problem at all for Danny anymore, though he still couldn’t help feeling at edge around him after all this time. He unconsciously took a few steps away from him.
Meanwhile, Wes scowled at his nickname. “Hey, don’t call me that. Otherwise the deal’s off,” he stated in an annoyed tone.
Dash huffed, “Fine.” He pulled out a fifty from his letterman jacket and handed it to Wes, who freely gave the envelope in exchange.
“Those demos I showed you last week plus a few extras are all in there,” Wes said while he sifted through the envelope.
“Looks good,” Dash commented, unable to keep the giddy smile from appearing on his face. He genuinely thanked Wes before slipping the photos into his pocket and leaving.
After a moment, Wes sneered, “Fenton, I’ll stop when you reveal yourself to everyone. Besides, why the heck should Danny Fenton be concerned about me selling photos I took of Danny Phantom without his consent?”
Danny’s glare only hardened as he watched Wes walk off.
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ladylynse · 5 years
Text
Part IX of The Trouble with Ghosts [FF | AO3] for @queenofhearts7378​! Sorry this took me forever.
Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom.
<<  < Part IX >
-|-
Lancer still expected a denial, even as Phantom shrunk into himself and hung his head.
It never came.
He’d thought it would. Somehow, after all of this, he’d thought it would. That was…easier than this, really. He’d rather think Phantom had enlisted Danny Fenton’s help and taught him how to fight. He’d rather their wounds were simply similar, left from having the same holes in their defenses. He wished the injuries weren’t identical, that they weren’t the same injuries. It would be so much easier if they weren’t.
He still didn’t understand.
Not really.
But whether it was some sort of strong connection or if the worst had really happened, if the accident Phantom had mentioned had led to poor Mr. Fenton’s death….
“Danny.” Lancer didn’t know who he meant anymore. Fenton or Phantom. One or both. It didn’t matter. “You can’t avoid this forever.”
“But I’m not ready.” The words were whispered. “I don’t want forever. I know that probably won’t happen. I just want not now. Some other time.”
Lancer sighed. “Running and hiding won’t solve your problems.”
“No.” The admission was barely audible. “It’ll buy me time, though.”
But at what cost?
“Jazz will come up with something else,” he insisted. “They’re not…. They can’t be the priority right now. I’m more worried about Vlad, about…this.” He straightened up again. “You don’t get it, Mr. Lancer. You can’t just ignore Vlad’s power.”
He very clearly didn’t get much of this situation, but at least the issue with the mayor was on more familiar ground.
“I don’t intend to ignore it. Ignoring one’s problems does not make them go away. But neither does avoiding them.”
Phantom—Danny—blew out a breath. “Okay, okay. I know. I’ll come up with something to tell them if Jazz doesn’t. But seriously. Vlad. I don’t know how strong my ecto-signature is when I’m like this. I don’t know if it’s suppressed at all, like everything else, but even if it is, the Red Huntress will be able to find me with her ghost tracker if she gets close enough. And she might try to confirm that I’m here when she’s not suited up, which is why you can’t tell anyone.”
Lancer raised an eyebrow. “Or you could tell me who she is so I won’t make any mistakes.”
Danny shook his head. “No. That’s her secret, not mine. No matter how many times you ask, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Then do you have a solution to propose that doesn’t involve me turning you out?”
Danny groaned. “C’mon, it can’t be that hard for you to trust me now that you know, right? I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before. Vlad’s hit me with this kind of thing before—”
“That is not the impression you gave me earlier.”
“It wasn’t as long lasting, but it still did this, whatever this is. And I’m feeling a lot better than I was yesterday. I don’t think anyone besides Vlad’s gonna come after me like this—even Skulker isn’t big on easy prey when he’s not the reason behind it—so I can just give him and the Red Huntress the slip—”
“Either you are staying right where you are or I am going with you.”
“But Vlad—”
“I’ve taken the mandatory ghost-hunting courses.”
Danny snorted. “Dad taught those courses.” It was still jarring to hear him say it, to have it confirmed yet again, but he was continuing on before Lancer had a chance to say something. “He couldn’t teach anyone to aim properly, even if he could explain what you need to do. And even if he could, that wouldn’t help you with Vlad.”
“I’m not planning to go head-to-head with the mayor,” Lancer said dryly, “but I do think I could hold my own against some of his hired help if it comes to it.”
Danny did not bother to hide the blatant doubt on his face, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he said, “Vlad wants me because of who I am and what I am. And he probably understands what I am better than I do. But my parents don’t know that. They think he gave up everything to do with ghosts back in their university days. Moved on to greener pastures. But he didn’t. He just got better at hiding his tracks.”
“You’ve alluded to as much before.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s really sunk in for you. Mr. Lancer, he’s fooled so many people. And if something comes up that makes him look bad, he’ll find a way to turn it back on whoever it was. If he finds out you’re helping me, he can probably get you fired. For ‘colluding with ghosts’ or something like that. He’s gotta have some pull with the school board; all he’d need to do is threaten to withhold some promised donation money or something like that.”
Lancer sincerely doubted Danny was aware of how much Mr. Masters’s donations helped with the cleanup and repair costs from all the ghost fights, but he supposed it wasn’t difficult to deduce.
“Are you really willing to risk your job, your life, on this?”
Lancer let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry you think so little of me,” he said quietly, “that you do not think I am willing to practice what I preach. I want the best for my students, and yes, even though we are no longer in a school setting, I will risk my life to protect you. This is not simply lip service for me. I have many colleagues across the country who take similar risks, and we do not take our responsibilities lightly.”
Danny stared at him, and Lancer had the feeling he still wasn’t entirely believed.
“It takes a village, remember?” he prodded gently. “Not everything must be done on your own. So, please, for your sake if no one else’s, tell me what I need to know to help you.”
Danny bit his lip. Then, finally, “Vlad’s…obsessed.”
Lancer fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You have been implying that,” he said, allowing a bit of testiness to leak into his tone. There was only so much he could do, so many ways he could break it down. If Danny still refused to tell him everything, well, then Lancer would just have to face whatever the danger was with blinders on and hope for the best.
“No, I mean, I think he’s actually obsessed. And…. I don’t know if he realizes that. If he can realize that. I don’t…. I’ve never asked if you can recognize it in yourself, or if it’s just so much a part of who you are that you can’t see it.”
This time, Lancer waited instead of prompting Danny further.
He wasn’t entirely sure he understood enough to properly prompt him, anyway.
“Something happened to him. Back in his college days, I mean. And he basically cut all ties with my parents until that reunion he hosted last year. But ever since he reconnected with them, ever since he found out about me, he’s just gotten so much worse. Like he can’t stop himself. He’s…. It’s bad, Mr. Lancer.”
“He is as intent on hunting you down as your parents, then?” Lancer asked cautiously. “Simply with more skill and knowledge of the whole story on his side?”
“No, I mean, I said before, he doesn’t want to kill me. At least, I don’t think he does. He just…. He’s tried to clone me. And it’s gone wrong, really wrong, but he keeps trying. He does some accelerated growth thing and…. I dunno. I don’t understand it. But he seems to have gotten the idea in his head that if he can’t have me, some lookalike is the next best thing. Except he still wants me me. To be his son.” Perhaps catching the expression on Lancer’s face, Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’s some seriously crazed up fruit loop.”
Lancer thought over Danny’s words and chose his next ones carefully. “You don’t believe he realizes how far he’s gone? How many lines he’s crossed?”
Danny shook his head. “And the Red Huntress doesn’t know what I am. She just thinks I’m the ghost that ruined her life. She won’t figure out the truth until it’s too late. And the ghosts like Skulker, well, I’m just kinda in their way. Most of them won’t care if I’m gone.”
“Maybe you should tell her.”
“What?”
“The Red Huntress. Maybe you should tell her. If you can’t bring yourself to tell your parents yet, start with her. You’ve worked together in the past. She’ll listen. I can back you up.”
“Uh….”
“Or would you rather I call the emergency hotline your parents set up and give them the information about their son that they’re so desperately looking for?”
“Isn’t that blackmail?”
“Isn’t it in your best interest?”
“Not really. The truth isn’t exactly great for either of us. The current dynamic is better. She’s, um, not going to be as hurt this way as she would be if she knew the truth.”
Danny genuinely seemed to believe his words, if the quiet acceptance in his tone was anything to go by. Frankly, Lancer found it rather astounding. He couldn’t seem to see the parallels, perhaps didn’t want to see them, and had managed to convince himself that keeping himself in danger—Lancer would call it mortal peril if anyone else were involved—was better for everyone, himself included.
He didn’t want to be a bother.
Didn’t want to rock the boat.
Truly believed keeping all of this to himself protected others.
“You do realize,” Lancer said, “that the Red Huntress—and your parents—would be hurt far more if they realized the truth only once it was too late?”
Danny didn’t meet his eye. Lancer was prepared to keep pressing this point—he was determined to keep bringing it up until he made some progress on that front—but then the doorbell rang, and he wasn’t prepared to leave someone standing on his doorstep. After all, it was just as likely to be Mr. and Mrs. Fenton trying a new tactic to find their son as it was some door-to-door salesman or a volunteer knocking on doors to see if he would support Mr. Masters in the next municipal election.
Who he found, however, was one of his students.
Valerie Gray.
She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her.
“Miss Gray,” he said, “aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“It’s lunch,” she said, and he wondered how he could have forgotten that when he’d used it as an excuse to visit Phantom. Danny. “I’m selling chocolate covered almonds on my break to raise money for my dojo. Three dollars a box if you’re interested.” She held one up and shook it for emphasis.
“I…yes. I’ll take a box.” Where had he left his wallet? It wasn’t in his pocket, and he didn’t have any spare change on him. He couldn’t just leave her standing on the stoop like this. “Come in for a moment, Miss Gray. I believe I have some change on the counter.”
She slipped inside without further prompting. “I’ll put your almonds on the table,” she said, and he nodded in acknowledgement even as he began to search for the coins he could’ve sworn had been there last week. “Do you mind if I use your washroom? I’ll be quick.”
“Down the hall to your right,” he answered. He was trying to remember what martial arts training she had; hadn’t she done an assignment on that earlier in the year? He remembered that she was skilled at it, whatever it was. Tetslaff praised Valerie’s skill in gym more often than not, though she always made a point of it whenever one of the others expressed concern about Valerie stretching herself too thin.
They all saw the strain she was under, of course. Being teachers did not make them blind to the social whiplash she must have faced with her fall from grace. It was no secret that Paulina no longer considered her a friend, now that Valerie was among the working class, just as it was no secret that Valerie had had to pick up a job in the hopes of paying for college. They were doing what they could for her, just as they were for all their students—offering make up exams and extensions when circumstances demanded it and letting their students know about scholarship opportunities and the like—but he hadn’t realized she’d been able to keep up her martial arts training. Did Elmerton have a volunteer group at its community centre? Perhaps Valerie taught in her spare time, trying to cash in on how good such a thing would look on university and scholarship applications….
“Danny? What are you doing here?”
Lancer’s heart jumped into his throat even as his fingers finally closed upon the stash of quarters that had somehow made their way behind his coffee pot.
Valerie had turned left, not right.
“Your parents are looking for you everywhere!” Valerie exclaimed as Lancer headed down the hallway, desperate to make the best of the situation.
He hadn’t entirely expected to walk into the spare bedroom and find Danny Fenton staring back at him with pleading eyes.
Danny Fenton.
With, as before, the very same injuries as Phantom.
He’d been such a fool.
Lancer cleared his throat. “As you can see, Mr. Fenton is a little worse for the wear. He, ah, tried to help me during a ghost attack.” It wasn’t a lie. He still wasn’t entirely sure how, but it wasn’t a lie. “That did not work out for him. I thought it best that he rest before heading home.”
Valerie narrowed her eyes. “Why not just take him to the hospital? Or at least call Mr. and Mrs. Fenton?”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t aware that they were searching for him.” She didn’t believe him; he could read that much on her face. He doubted anyone in Amity Park was unaware that Mr. and Mrs. Fenton were missing their son. “Rest assured, I will correct this oversight as soon as possible.”
It wasn’t a good excuse, even in Amity Park, and they all knew it.
She could get him fired for this if she tried. It wouldn’t be difficult for her to spin it just the wrong way if she so desired. He didn’t think she would—at least, he hoped she wouldn’t—but he wasn’t exactly everyone’s favourite teacher, either.
“It’s not his fault,” Danny whispered, drawing their attention. “I asked him not to tell Mom and Dad. Or to take me to the hospital.”
Valerie did not bother to hide the incredulous look on her face.
“I got hurt in a ghost fight, Val,” Danny said. “How do you think my parents would take that?”
He wasn’t lying. He was managing to tell her the truth while making it seem something it wasn’t, and he was doing it with terrifying ease. Lancer was, of course, very familiar with Danny Fenton’s outright lies. They were awful. These…weren’t.
These selected truths made it painfully clear how he could have been mistaken.
Valerie made a face. “They’d probably try to send you to school with weapons that you’d then get confiscated.”
“Only if I’m lucky enough that they didn’t quarantine me at home for a week first to make sure I didn’t get contaminated or something because I wasn’t wearing a HAZMAT suit.”
A HAZMAT suit. Like Phantom wore. Like Jack and Maddie Fenton wore.
He really had been a fool.
“A week wouldn’t be bad if it meant avoiding that in the future,” Valerie said, looking him up and down.
Danny’s mouth twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smile, even by Lancer’s low standards. “Trust me, whatever they did to me, it wouldn’t avoid stuff like this. That possibility’s always going to be in my future. I’m a Fenton, after all.”
And a phantom. Another similarity he hadn’t put together. He wondered if anyone had. Jazz, perhaps, if Danny hadn’t simply told her and his friends, and he supposed that would’ve been the only way for Vlad Masters to know about him. Danny certainly wouldn’t have volunteered information like that to someone who had practically been a stranger.
Especially not when he was so reluctant to tell the truth to those he was close to when it would help him.
“You really think the ghosts are going to target you for that? I’ve never seen them do that in the past.”
Maybe she hadn’t, but she—like the rest of them—clearly hadn’t seen a lot of things that had happened in the past.
“Really?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you forgetting the last time my parents went all over town looking for me?”
Valerie winced. “Okay, fine, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you and Jazz, and you guys don’t seem to get it worse than anyone else. Everyone got that weird ghost flu. Except for, like, you and Tucker. How did you guys get around that, anyway?”
Why was she keeping such a close eye out that she’d know that?
Danny shrugged, not finding anything odd about Valerie’s words. Lancer wondered if there was something else he was missing or if this was simply how teenagers—friends—talked these days. Given that this was Amity Park, it very well might be standard practice to watch each other’s backs. More so than anywhere else, at least.
“Probably some combination of luck and Tuck’s fear of doctor’s offices and everything else. Anyway, what are you doing here? You don’t have any reason to be hiding out.”
“My dojo’s having a fundraiser.”
“You’re still doing that?” Danny asked. “You’ve got, like, a ninth-degree black belt. How many are there?”
Lancer blinked. He hadn’t remembered that Miss Gray was quite so adept at martial arts.
Valerie crossed her arms. “Ten.”
“Is that even attainable?”
Valerie smirked. “Not for someone who doesn’t work their butt off for years and years.”
Lancer hadn’t even realized it was possible to attain a black belt by high school, let alone anything past the first degree.
“I mean, it’s not something I’ll get for a long time, but I definitely won’t get it if I don’t do stuff like this. Three bucks a box for chocolate covered almonds. You in?”
“You know me, Val. I’m broke. I’m lucky I can scrape together enough to grab something at the Nasty Burger. Sorry. You’ll have to hit up Jazz when you get back to school, though. She’s got a sweet tooth and always carries cash.”
Lancer thought this as good a time as any to break back into the conversation, so he cleared his throat and held out the change to Valerie. “I hope you don’t mind that it’s in quarters.”
“I can keep track of it,” she said, pocketing the money. “Thanks.”
She lingered, eyes darting around the room even though Danny’s never left her face.
She was looking for something.
He was waiting to see what she would do.
“Is there something else I can help you with, Miss Gray?”
She seemed to have forgotten her earlier request for the washroom because she shook her head. “No, sorry, Mr. Lancer. I’ll go. I’ll, um, see you soon. Get better, Danny, okay?”
“Quick as I can,” he promised, and Valerie slipped past him, still looking around as she headed back to the front door.
He knew he should follow behind her and lock it after she’d gone, but he was starting to realize that wouldn’t help him in the slightest.
She’d come here looking for something, and even if Danny believed her story about fundraising, believed she could have a ninth-degree black belt at her age, Lancer was beginning to see that not everything added up.
He didn’t doubt that Valerie had been trained in the martial arts. Even if it weren’t for Tetslaff’s praise of her in the staff room, her overall fitness made that clear enough. And he knew of her grit, her determination, her sheer strength of will; even in English class, that came through.
But she hadn’t come here to sell him chocolates.
She hadn’t come here to recruit his help to look for her missing classmate.
She hadn’t asked to use the washroom because she’d needed it, nor because she was just idly curious and wanted to poke around his house now that she was here.
Like Danny, Valerie’s grades had also slipped. Not as much, not so drastically, and he’d always attributed it to the turmoil that had befallen her and her father in their personal lives. He didn’t need to know the whole story to see its effects. She wasn’t getting as much sleep. She was tired, worn out, even considering how busy she was kept at her job at the Nasty Burger; she certainly wasn’t the first student to take on a job like that in high school to begin saving for college.
Except it was more than that.
There were her vehement essays—when he gave the class the freedom to choose their topics, within reason—on the trouble with ghosts. The insistence that Phantom, considered by many a hero, was anything but. The biased view (despite presenting sources) that was clearly tainted by her own life experiences and the rhetoric spouted by the Fentons.
The Red Huntress will be able to find me with her ghost tracker if she gets close enough.
The fact that she had come here looking for something and not found it.
Something that had led her straight to Danny.
To Phantom.
She might try to confirm that I’m here when she’s not suited up.
And the fact that, now that he thought about it, Valerie disappeared nearly as often as Danny these days.
And if Danny wasn’t hiding anywhere except plain sight….
“Danny.” Would he even get the truth if he asked? “Do we need to be worried?”
Surprise froze on Danny’s face. He was too slow to rearrange his features into mild confusion. “What?”
“Do we need to be worried?” He wasn’t going to say I or you, not after his insistence that they were in this together, whether Danny liked it or not.
“What are you talking about?”
Oh, for The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, he knew exactly what Lancer was talking about.
“About Miss Gray,” he ground out, his understanding that Danny simply wanted to protect someone else’s secret not outweighing the fact that Valerie was also one of his teenaged students who was routinely risking her life. “About her benefactor. About the fact that she must be suspicious about something, even if she isn’t sure what’s wrong. About the fact that she might not be the last person to visit right now.”
“Uh….”
“Please do not try to deny it, Mr. Fenton.” It was still Mr. Fenton. Even…even if he was also Phantom. Somehow. Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve as good as laid the facts out in front of me. I can only be blind to so much.” It would be easier to be blind to it all, but he’d never signed up for easier. “It’s not as hard to see now that I know…more.”
Danny said nothing.
Once again, the lack of a denial spoke for him.
“I even might have been able to piece it together if we were still calling her the Hunter, or the Red Hunter, or whatever it began as. Something a good sight better than Inviso-Bill, I imagine.”
“Vlad’s puns are terrible,” Danny muttered.
But he still didn’t deny it.
Crime and Punishment, but Lancer wished he would have denied it.
How had two of his students become entangled in such serious matters? Worse still, the mayor—the mayor—was perpetuating the problem by hunting down one, treating him as a science experiment, and purposefully misguiding the other to the point where she would…could….
She’d done this to him, Lancer realized.
She’d caused the very wounds about which she was so worried.
She had to show me some of her new weapons.
Vlad Masters was giving weapons to a student, fully aware that she was using them against another student. Encouraging it, even.
She had a few I wasn’t expecting.
He was even inventing weaponry Jack and Maddie Fenton hadn’t dreamed up. Using his knowledge of Danny’s secret to better design them. Using his position of power to put more pressure on Phantom, on Danny. Lancer hadn’t forgotten that million dollar reward.
He doesn’t want to kill me.
He just wanted something so much worse.
The Red Huntress doesn’t know what I am. She won’t figure out the truth until it’s too late.
Danny had said as much earlier, just before the Huntress herself had come knocking. And he had lied to her face, albeit mostly half truths and lies of omission and not correcting her assumptions, and Lancer knew Danny was right. She wouldn’t figure it out until it was too late. And if things continued the way they were, it would be. Valerie was too fixated on her beliefs to do anything but dismiss evidence that dared contradict them.
At least….
At least, she would be if Danny was not forthright.
“This cannot continue.”
“What?”
Lancer looked down at Danny, still sitting in bed. He was too young to have all of this on his shoulders. He still didn’t understand. He still didn’t realize that refusing to share this burden wouldn’t lighten the load of anyone else but merely weigh them down with different troubles.
He meant well, but he was wrong.
“This cannot continue,” Lancer repeated.
Fear, in every line of Danny’s suddenly tense body. “No, you can’t tell them. You promised!”
“I never promised that,” Lancer said quietly, “and I certainly never promised you a rose garden.”
A brief flicker of confusion as the reference went over Danny’s head—Lancer supposed he couldn’t blame him; it had just been one of the book options which his students could choose to read and write about, and Danny hadn’t picked that book, let alone pretended to read it—and then the fear was back. “No, please, Mr. Lancer, you still don’t know everything, and—”
“Then for The Life of Pi, tell me the rest of it!” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he was at his wit’s end. Danny was still keeping secrets, dangerous ones, and—
“Vlad’s like me!”
-|-
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ecto-american · 4 years
Text
October Nights C4
Ectober fanfiction || Day One | Day Two | Day Three || On AO3
Summary: Danny may have died, but he is certainly not gone. And he refuses to be forgotten.
Day 4: Artifact & Nursery Rhyme
She knew that she would not sleep a wink that entire night the moment she had somewhat accepted the ghostly presence. What choice did she have when Tucker wasn’t answering her frantic, desperate calls or texts, and she couldn’t bring herself to contact Jazz. Let her see her brother in such a way.
Even when she refused to watch him watch her, she knew that he never gave up. That he was creeping around her room, keeping an eye on her. Sam was able to occasionally repress the anxiety from being constantly observed, letting her eyes rest and her mind settle, they’d both snap to attention to hear him walking around in her room. It was almost as if to psych her out, as he normally floated around her, hovering over her literally. Despite knowing that by now, he absolutely did not need to breathe anymore, he seemed to insist on doing so heavily.
While he didn’t touch her again, thank god for the beautifully crafted artifact that was the specter deflector, he certainly pushed so many boundaries. Twice Sam woke up from a shallow sleep because that gut fear of being watched was so overwhelming that she had to look. Her eyes would see only him, floating as close to her as he could without being shocked. Red eyes staring right into her purple ones, always blank and void of anything. The lack of something almost scared her more than having something malicious. He was a hollow shell of the boy she loved so much before.
Sam just needed to get through the night until she could meet up with Tucker again. Of all the times for Tucker to ghost himself from social media and to be unreachable. However not unusual of him ever since…
She just had to get through this night. She could survive the night. She had to. Sam had been through worse and battled worse, and all she had to do was survive the night. This she’d repeat to herself over and over, but the more she had to say it, the more doomed she felt.
The worst part came at the stroke of midnight, the witching hour. She, of course, couldn’t sleep. Not when she knew that he was staring at the back of her head as she laid facing away from him on her side. From an earlier creaking and shifting on fabric, she knew that he had made himself comfortable on Danny’s favorite armchair. The armchair that he’d always claim whenever they hung out at her house. Sam focused on staring at her bedside alarm clock as it informed her of the hour.
“Sammy?” his voice came in a whisper from the darkness behind her, and she shivered in disgust. “Are you awake?”
Sam was hesitant to answer. Part of her told her that she should respond. Otherwise he may get angry, and he’d lash out. Her Danny would never but this...this definitely wasn’t Danny. And he had already proved earlier that he wasn’t afraid to lunge at her. With what intentions? She could only guess, but that look in his eyes made her sure that it wasn’t good. But overall, she knew that continuing to feed into his actions, responding to what he said or what he did would only encourage it’s hauntings, make it more determined to be near her.
The figure shifted, and she knew he stood up as the floor creaked. He took steps towards her, and the bed dipped. Her eyes teared up with fear as she shifted to scoot closer to the edge of the bed. She could feel the distinct dip of him crawling on the covers over to her.
Like before, he was getting as close as he could without touching her. She refused to let herself shake, despite feeling his cold aura the closer he got, the more he leaned in. His heavy breathing was soon right in her ear, and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a red eye staring right into her, white hair hanging over and into her direct line of vision.
“Sammy?” it repeated itself in a breathy tone. “Are you awake?” She swallowed hard.
“...Yes…” she finally answered. She was worried about what he’d do if he saw her clearly still awake but refusing to respond. Sam could feel his grin. His hand hovered over her, making the motions he would if he could stroke her hair. Thankfully her belt was keeping him at a cautious distance, and so he settled for the odd gesturing less than a half a foot away.
“There’s no need to be afraid, Sammy,” he spoke softly. She could feel him shift behind her to fully lean over her using his ghostly floating to literally half-hover over her. She took a deep, shuddering breath to try and collect her nerves as she could see fully over her. Casting a shadow and causing her vision to be full of his white hair and light blue skin. “I’ll keep all the ghosts away. Please...sleep. You have school tomorrow.”
Sam was absolutely exhausted, and her lower lip quivered. Indeed, she had school tomorrow. But how could she, how could any one, sleep when being watched so intensely. He was who she was afraid of. How could she get him to just go away.
“...I’m trying,” she said slowly, and her mind struggled to find something that would convince him. “But you’re really distracting. You should go home.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see him glaring.
“I am home,” he insisted. Sam pulled her covers over her shoulders, sinking into them more. “You’re my home. My moonlight…”
“To the Ghost Zone,” Sam said sharply. “You can’t stay here.” The ghost’s upper lip snarled back, and she froze upon seeing the fangs his ghostly form had acquired. He looked absolutely insulted, and she could see him shake violently before he seemed to snap from it. He blinked before staring at her.
“I won’t leave you,” he replied. Sam’s grip on the covers tightened. She began to fear that the anti-ghost artifact, the only thing keeping him from dragging her off into the night, would power down or break during the night.
“Then back up. You’re crowding me, I can’t sleep.”
The figure frowned, but he did as he was requested, reluctantly floating up towards the ceiling. Sam felt the smallest of relief as he pinned himself against the ceiling. Sure, he looked like a sleep paralysis demon the way he clung to it, never breaking his gaze, but least that put him about six feet away from her.
Sam turned onto her other side, finally feeling comfortable staring at the old armchair. Her eyelids drooped, and she softly exhaled. Disturbingly, she was already becoming used to him watching. Her room fell into false peace. The rain was still going, but the rhyme was a comfort. The thunder no longer was roaring, and the power had returned hours ago, but the goth always slept in complete darkness.
“Do you need help?” his voice broke the silence. Sam didn’t reply. “Falling asleep?” Sam said nothing, and she heard a humming from him.
The hum was a tune she knew, but didn’t quite recognize. It was eerie, his deep ghostly graveled voice making what she could at least tell was a childhood tune into a disturbed echo that filled her room. Sam pulled the blanket over her head, trying to block out the noise. But it only got worse.
“Ring-around the rosies, a pocket full of posies,” the melody hauntingly began to come out. Sam shivered under the covers. “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.” And he didn’t stop there, instead continuing the nursery rhyme. “The king has sent his daughter; to fetch a pail of water. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.” She took a deep breath. She just had to last until the morning, until she could meet with Tucker. “The robin on the steeple; is singing to the people. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.”
She threw her covers back, sitting up and staring at him. He stopped, staring back at her. Sam narrowed her eyes tiredly, shooting him a dirty look.
“What are you doing?” Exhaustion fueled her newfound anger. His head cocked in confusion.
“Singing you to sleep,” he replied, as if it was obvious. Sam huffed.
“It’s not helping,” she snapped, and she rubbed her eyes. She had to go to school tomorrow. When she looked to him once more, he was frowning.
“Sammy,” his voice took on a snappy tone back to her. “Why are you so upset with me? I’m just trying to help, Moony.” Hearing him call her that, Danny’s nickname for her, visibly made her sour up in disgust.
“You’re not Danny,” she told him. She put her hand over the glowing center of the artifact keeping her safe, looking coldly at him. His frown deepened as his glare turned icy as well. “You’re not him. You’re Danny Phantom, but you’re not, you’re just not Danny Fenton.”
“I am,” he hissed. She heard the ceiling crack as the ghost dug glowing fingers into it. Her heart sank. He couldn’t touch her. But he could certainly still attack her from a distance. Fear bubbled once more in her chest. “I am Danny Fenton, I am your boyfriend who loves you more than anything, and I will never let anything happen to you.” It was not the loving comforting promise he’d tell her softly whenever he hung out at her window in the late hour. It was absolutely a threat.
“No, you aren’t.” Sam summoned any courage that she could find. Her grandma used to say that boldly declaring that they weren’t welcome would often ward off spirits. Sam bit her lip. It was...worth a shot. “You aren’t welcome here. You’re not my Danny, and I want you to leave.”
His eyes snapped wide, and an angry snarl exposed so many sharp teeth that were lit up subtly by the red glow. He opened his mouth, and he screamed.
Sam curled up on her side, slapping her hands over her ears as she began to cry again. The voice shook the room, his ghostly wail causing that horrible echo to crack as he screamed in an agonizing anger. His pitch unsteadily would rise to a shriek before dropping to nearly a growl. It felt like it would never end.
It did, and her ears rang by the time she finally let go of her ears. The figure was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he glared at her. His fingers were still glowing and dug into the ceiling.
To her horror, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Slowly, but steadily, and a frantic voice calling for her.
“Sam! Sam, what’s going on!?” her grandma called out. Sam froze in fear. Oh no. Oh no, she couldn’t let her grandma get involved in this. She could barely walk.
Enough was fucking enough. Sam met her stalker’s eyes, and his anger dropped in surprise upon seeing how pissed she had become. The teen flung herself towards her nightstand, for her blaster, and she picked it up. Aiming it for him, she began to rapid fire shots at him. His eyes grew wide, and to her horror, instead of flying, he opted to crawl along her ceiling to dodge.
“GET OUT!” she screamed. She didn’t bother pausing, continuing to blast at him. The figure crawled along the ceiling quickly towards her window, that haunting low chatter emitting from him before he finally phased through the window and left.
Sam dropped her weapon, bursting into a loud crying. He left, but she knew he wasn’t gone. A glance at the ceiling saw his crawl pattern to the window, the ghost having left ghost ray burns in his path. As well as her blasting pattern.
“Sam!” her grandma opened the door, and Sam felt horrible. She looked so frazzled as she turned the light on. Sam scrambled out of bed to rush for her, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh Sam, are you okay? What on Earth was that?”
Sam couldn’t answer. She could only cry.
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