#Danny is struggling to be an english teacher

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Cyber Six AU

So Idea, take some aspects of Cyber Six and make it a Danny Phantom in Gotham situation

For those who don’t know, the basic premise is that Cyber Six is the creation of this mad scientist that escaped. She needs a substance that only the bad guy can produce to live and has to fight the creations of the bad guy in order to stop evil plans as well as get the substance. In the comics it’s more of a vampiric feeding. During the day she poses as a male English teacher while hiding her identity from her love interest. The love interest is in love with her as Cyber six, and friends with her as her teacher identity. The whole thing has a lot of trans themes and is totally worth watching the cartoon, but do you see where I’m going with this?

Danny in Gotham, hiding as a teacher by day, and fighting the artificial ghosts Vlad or the GIW send after him by night as Phantom. Gotham doesn’t really have much Ectoplasm, and Danny needs to feed on it. He’d move to a place with more, but Batman is a major deterrent and hiding in Gotham is keeping the people chasing him from coming themselves and risking getting on the Bat’s radar. Luckily, instead of realizing they could starve him out, they send their creations to drag him back, providing a guilt free source of ectoplasm

Danny get’s work at Gotham Academy as one of Tim’s teachers while hiding out. It would be just fine, he has a degree in chemistry and one in engineering. The issue? They gave him an English class, a subject he struggled with in school. Lucky for him while lamenting this fact to a stranger, one Jason Todd, he finds out the other man is a literature nerd and would be happy to go over his curriculum with him. Jason is just happy he has someone to info dump about Jane Austen to while he waits for Tim to get out.

Meanwhile, Red Hood is dealing with the sighting of odd creatures in his territory when he comes across Phantom. The two strike up a friendship while dealing with the threat to Hood’s territory, Phantom gets to feed from the artificial ghost, and so it goes on. 

Jason gets feeling for the mysterious Phantom, While Danny gets feeling for the charming literature nerd Jason. That’s right baby, the love square. They’re in love with their other identities. Meanwhile Tim is dying inside as his teacher is making goo goo eyes at his brother.

[roostercrowedatmidnight]

when i first watched s8 of doctor who when i was younger, i loved it but never liked the clara/danny/doctor dynamic going on. it just felt like i love triangle, which i'd never enjoyed before, and i couldn't see the point of it. but now i actually like it a lot more because i know it has very little to do with what is happening at the surface level, and actually serves more important thematic functions that make it super interesting.

the doctor and danny in s8 have to be in conflict because they are representative of clara's two lives -- normal work/home/earth vs adrenaline-high space adventures -- and how she is torn between them. these two different lives are constantly tugging at her throughout s8, as we all know. they are her main conflict in this series, perhaps even clara's main conflict across her entire run. of course the main symbols of those opposing lives, the doctor and danny, need to be constantly at odds, to demonstrate clara's inner struggles.

(there is also of course a surface level aspect to all this, which is that the doctor and danny both consider clara the most important person in their lives, and are jealous of the connection that the other has to her. but i'm guessing we all know that already.)

the doctor and danny are also supposed to be constant reflections of one another because they both look at the other and see their negative experiences with war. the doctor and danny were both soldiers, and although danny seems more accepting of that part of himself and has a more positive view on the military's function, both of them chose to leave that behind, and both still have the lingering trauma that a war experience causes. danny looks at the doctor and just sees the cruellest figures in the military. he is worried that clara will have something horrific happen to her on her adventures just like danny had in the military. the doctor looks at danny and sees who he was in the time war, the person who he hated being, and is probably worried that if clara can like a military figure like danny, then maybe she likes the doctor because she sees him in the same way. this feeds in to the 12th doctor's main conflict in s8, which is identity and morality. in 'the caretaker' he thought clara might be dating the other english teacher because that is the sort of person the doctor prefers to see themself as -- silly, academic, sweet. definitely not military.

this obviously isn't perfectly executed all the time, and it is sometimes disappointing that the doctor and danny only look at and evaluate one another with the worst outlook from beginning to end without ever seeing the good sides of one another that clara sees: the way the doctor is selfless, compassionate, and loves life in all its forms, and the way danny is patient, forgiving, supportive, and calmly grounded. however, i still think the dynamic does really interesting things with the doctor and clara and danny. s8 of doctor who is character-fuelled in an extreme way, so that practically every aspect of the plot is a result of the main characters (doctor, clara, danny, missy) and their actions, or a tool to help explore the characters' developments and conflicts better. and i love all of that now and understand it much better than i did when i first watched the show.

[dp-marvel94]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

Thanks for tagging me, @agentianlegend !

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

62! I can't believe I have that many fics posted.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

918,405

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Almost exclusively Danny Phantom. I have one Gravity Falls Crossover and one DPxDC crossover as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

Summoning: When Jack and Maddie Fenton tried to summon the King of All Ghosts, the last thing they expected was the sudden appearance of a very familiar, very human boy wearing spaceship pajamas and with a toothbrush halfway to his mouth.

Double Discovery: After accidentally shooting Phantom with an anti-possession gun, Maddie finds she has a lot to learn about both Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton. Eventual Revelation Story.

Borrower Danny: A teeny tiny Danny starts living in Wayne Manor

4. Fangs or No Fangs: For Phic Phight 2021. Jack and Maddie know that Danny is Phantom. They saw him transform and they knew they should talk about it with him. But…even after two weeks, that conversation feels impossible. And so Jack and Maddie have a plan: a trip to the planetarium to cheer Danny up, to finally see him smile again, and to pave the way for the truth.

5. Below the Greenhouse: For the Phic Phight. Prompt by Avearia: Maddie discovers the depths of Vlad's obsessions when she stumbles upon his secret lab. Despite the shock, part of her almost isn't surprised by the stolen Fenton Tech, the ripoff ghost portal, or the eerie Holo-Maddie—but the clone she finds floating in the pod at the back of the room? That's another matter entirely.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I generally try to! I love hearing what readers have to say and will happily answer questions, as long as I'm not giving out spoilers. XD

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, my second long fic, Hope Can Be a Heavy Thing to Hold, ends with the main character dying so....

Seriously though, I do have a sequel to this story planned as my next major project. Maybe we'll all find out things aren't what they seem. 😜

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I love angst with a happy ending so a lot of my fics end happily. I don't think I can pick which one is happiest. This one has a special place in my heart though.

Offspring of my ectoplasm. My child.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have before but not very often. I normally just delete mean comments without replying.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have written a two before. I think Borrower Danny is the craziest one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Luckily I haven't as far as I know.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda? One of my fics, The Danny Program, was based on an au which @thesoulspulse came up with. Later, Soul wrote a longer version of that au which followed a lot of the same stories beats as my fic and I beta'd.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm not a huge shipper. Dark Gray (Dan Phantom and Valerie Gray) is something of a guilty pleasure though.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My series, Life and Death is all Perspective, has been a bit of a struggle. I get close to thinking it's done and it keeps growing. 😂

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very good at writing emotions and dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fights scenes are definitely a struggle since I have trouble visualizing them in my head.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I only speak English fluently so I probably wouldn't write dialogue in another language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I feel like I've told this story before but the first fic I wrote was a Doctor Who fic for a school assignment in high school. It was for one of those warm-up exercises in English and my teacher loved it. XD

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Tagging @mymadmedleyw @five-rivers @assorted-candy @tathartiel @tachvintlogic and anyone else who wants to participate!

[ashboy-3]

Everything is Okay

Written for DannyMay 2023 Day 25 Prompt: Blame Fandom: Danny Phantom Characters: Danny, Kwan, Dash, Tucker, Sam, Lancer Words: 1253 Warnings: Nightmares Summary: Danny is asleep in class again, this time he wakes up after having a bad dream, and the entire class is there to witness it. It's safe to say that Lancer has a few questions for our favorite trio.

Casper High’s English teacher Lancer was happy to keep talking about their latest book and how the symbolism matters and the wonderful foreshadowing of the author. He looked up from his teaching and spotted the trio. The student that used to be so promising, Danny Fenton, had his head on his desk sleeping, his book was opened to the last chapter they had finished going over earlier this class period. He looked over Sam Manson had her book opened to the right page, but didn’t bother to show her interest. Lancer wasn’t as worried about her, she always had good grades and strong opinions in her essays. Tucker Foley was writing down well-detailed notes, anything that could possibly be on their test and he was ready. Both were giving each other worried looks to each other and Danny, having a full-on silent conversation while the youngest of the trio twitched in his sleep.

“Is Mr. Fenton sleeping in class again?” Lancer asked, walking towards the trio, the two awake high schoolers giving him wide eyes.

“He had a long night. He was up late last night with me Sam. We were studying for his trigonometry test we have today,” Tucker told him.

“Correction Mr. Foley it is Sam and I, but I’ll forgive you. Maybe if you helped Mr. Fenton work out a better study schedule he wouldn’t be falling asleep in class,” Lancer suggested as he went to shake the boy awake but was stopped by the goth teen, now claiming the full attention of the class.

“Don’t touch him,” Sam interfered.

“Ms. Manson he has to be awake for class,” Lancer told her, looking between her and the boy.

“You can’t wake him up yet,” she stated again.

“If you can give a good reason as to why I shouldn’t wake him up then I won’t but until then he has to be awake,” Lancer said sadly, seeing the two struggle to come up with a reason, but as the sleeping boy twitched and shivered they looked worse.

“Mr. Lancer, please. Don’t wake Danny. We will tell you after class after everyone leaves, but I’m not telling you in front of everyone,” she said as he looked around the class and decided that that was a passable excuse.

“Alright, Ms. Manson. I won’t wake him, but I’m expecting a good and full explanation by the end. Do you understand?” he asked.

“We understand Mr. Lancer,” Tucker shook his head as he returned to teaching the class. This however did not stop the other students from thinking that messing with Danny was a good idea.

“Wanna wake Fenton?” Dash whispered to Kwan as the jock smirked in the sleeping teen’s direction. 

Right as Mr. Lancer turned around the two started to throw things at the sleeping boy, ignoring the glares sent to them by the geek squad.

“Stop that!” Sam glared at the two boys.

“What are you going to do about it?” Dash smirked as he threw another object, one bigger than all the others and heavier. Hitting Danny in the back of the head. Danny’s head shot up unexpectedly, a green tint to his normally icy blue eyes.

Lancer noticing the kid awake and out of it choose to stop teaching in case something were to happen, with this class he never knows.

“Mom dad?” Danny asked, looking around the room.

“Danny it’s okay,” Sam gently put a hand on his shoulder, reaching from the desk behind his.

“Sam? Tucker?” Danny asked, looking around trying to find them.

“Hey, Danny man it’s us. Are you doing okay?” Tucker asked, trying to give signs to Lancer to ignore them and keep teaching, but of course, the man wouldn’t listen.

“Mom and dad he- I,” Danny’s voice stopped.

“Hey what happened bro?” Tucker spoke as softly as Sam.

“It’s my fault. They're gone because of me. I wasn't good enough,” Danny whispered so quietly that almost no one heard it.

“Danny your parents are okay. It was only a dream,” Sam promised.

“It’s an ever-growing path. What about Dani and Jazz?” Danny asked, the green still forming in his eyes, it was getting softer the longer he was awake.

“No, Danny. Everyone is okay. Clockwork has been watching. He would stop it before anything bad happened,” Tucker promised.

“You need to stop blaming yourself for things that haven’t happened yet,” Sam told him as she pet his hair, helping calm the boy.

With a look towards Tucker, she grabbed Danny’s bag and bought out a small bottle. “Here Danny drink this. Frostbite said it’ll make the dreams better. If it doesn’t work we’ll try something else,” Sam gently ordered as she helped Danny drink, the boy lay his head back on the desk, passing out almost instantly.

“What the fuck?” Kwan asked as Lancer turned on him.

“Watch your language, Kwan. I’m not afraid of handing out detentions to you for offensive language. Ms. Manson, what did you give Mr. Fenton?” Lancer asked.

“A drink that his doctor made. Should soothe the nightmares and help him sleep more peacefully. If you wouldn’t mind we would greatly like to get back to class,” Tucker answered for her, glaring at anyone who even looked at Danny.

Agreeing with his students he quickly finished class. This was further proof to Casper High that Danny Fenton was not a normal high schooler.

After class Danny was still asleep as Sam and Tucker walked up to Lancer’s desk.

“You promised an explanation?” Lancer prompted.

“We can’t give you the full thing unless Danny is awake and agrees to tell you, but Danny has some friends, and they're great people, but he got in trouble with some bad people, and a while ago they threatened to hurt his family. Danny’s friends helped stop the bad people but Danny sometimes wakes up with vivid nightmares and he can’t tell fantasy from reality,” Tucker told him.

“And this doctor? Will I find him if I talk to Mr. Fenton’s parents?” Lancer asked.

“He’s not a normal doctor. Danny has ecto radiation, more than his sister so this was a special doctor that he found without telling his parents. When Danny goes to a doctor their meds no longer work so he brings them to his specialist doctor and he alters them with ecto science to make them work. Danny’s parents while good at inventions, their not good at everything ecto. It’s why he goes to him,” Sam was quick on the draw.

“Alright, I won’t call his parents to discuss this class period, but I’m only letting this pass once. I’ll write him a sick letter for his next two classes they can talk to me if their wonder where Danny is. Drop him off at the nurse’s office, just make sure he’s up for his test. Would hate for all that studying to go to waste,” Lancer said as he wrote them a note, the two students sharing shocked looks at each other.

“I know it may not always look like it, but we adults are here to help. Maybe it would do all three of you some good to put a little bit of faith in us,” Lancer told them as he handed them the notes, letting them exit the classroom with Danny on Tucker’s back, Sam holding his bags.

Those three. One day I’ll figure out their mystery Lancer thought to himself as he watched the two leave the classroom, letting his new class of freshmen enter.

[denimbex1986]

'Breaking into Hollywood stardom in the early 2000s, Josh Hartnett fast became a teenage idol through his early work and was fast-tracked to become the next best thing. Initially disillusioned with the celebrity lifestyle, though, he turned down many starring roles in major movies and even resorted to taking a lengthy hiatus from the industry not to lose his passion for acting entirely.

While fans of Hartnett from his earliest roles may lament the lost possibility of what could have been, his carefully selected career trajectory has seen him feature in some bizarre but brilliant films. With Oppenheimer seeing the much-loved movie star back on the big screen in front of mainstream audiences, these 10 films present as the best of a stellar career that may be just hitting its peak.

10. 'O' (2001)

Taking Shakespeare’s classic play Othello and applying it to the basketball scene of a modern American high school, O was an experimental teen drama that was always intriguing despite having some flaws. It focuses on local basketball star Odin (Mekhi Phifer), who is convinced of his girlfriend’s cheating by a conniving friend motivated by jealousy.

While the premise seems difficult to take seriously, O actually produced some genuinely good dramatic moments, and its approach to teenage violence was strikingly mature. It also struck gold in casting Hartnett as the envious villain, allowing him to display his acting chops as a complicated character that was both despicable and entirely believable.

9. 'Wrath of Man' (2021)

A gritty action delight noteworthy for reuniting Guy Ritchie and Jason Statham, Wrath of Man offered intense thrills and a winding story to boot. It follows H (Statham), a mysterious new employee at Fortico Security whose exemplary combat skills prevent a heist and lead his colleagues to question the man and his sketchy past.

With elements of one-man-army action, heist thrills, and even revenge drama, the movie offered up something for all action lovers to enjoy. It also featured Josh Hartnett, who stood out among the star-studded cast with his enjoyably unheroic turn as a fellow Fortico Security guard who gradually finds his courage.

8. '30 Days of Night' (2007)

Based on the comic book miniseries of the same name, 30 Days of Night was a pulsating mixture of blood-and-guts horror and thrilling action. It follows the residents of a remote Alaskan town who struggle to survive a month of no sunlight when a mob of vampires descends upon them, killing most of the townsfolk immediately and leaving the rest in a desperate fight for their lives.

An amalgamation of horror subgenres doused in more than enough gore to keep the genre’s most eager fans satisfied; it kept finding new ways to be intriguing throughout its duration, even with its simple premise. While Danny Huston’s villainous performance received plenty of praise, the film also served as an adequate reminder of Josh Hartnett’s natural ability in leading roles.

7. 'Oh Lucy!' (2017)

An overlooked gem of modern Asian cinema, Oh Lucy! was a dazzling hit of empathetic, tragic fun which blended romance with adventure. The film follows Setsuko (Shinobu Terajima), a lonely office worker in Tokyo who develops a crush on her English teacher and ventures to America to follow him when he abruptly leaves.

The film grounded itself in universal themes, which it explored in quirky yet strikingly honest ways, with the entire cast putting in outstanding and nuanced performances to make it work. It also wasn’t afraid to get quite dark, making for a heartbreaking tragicomedy that thrived off the back of Terajima’s brilliance and used Hartnett’s comedic talent perfectly.

6. 'The Faculty' (1998)

After making his debut in one of the forgettable installments of the Halloween franchise, Josh Hartnett got more opportunities to showcase his potential in the sci-fi/horror The Faculty. From director Robert Rodriguez, it follows a misfit group of high school students who discover their classmates and teachers have been overtaken by parasitic aliens and cook up an unlikely plan to save everyone.

In addition to its overt sci-fi/horror premise, The Faculty also ran with an affectionate focus on teen drama and high school politics, themes brought to life by the film’s surprisingly fantastic cast. Hartnett portrayed Zeke Tyler, an intelligent though problematic youth who holds the answer to defeating the alien race in his drug-dealing antics.

5. 'Lucky Number Slevin' (2006)

A fascinating example of differing opinions, critics were harsh on Lucky Number Slevin, but casual moviegoers loved it. The action crime-thriller follows a wrongly apprehended man. He is dragged into a vicious feud between two rival crime lords, where he is given a violent ultimatum and is tailed by two men as he frantically decides what he’ll do next.

Using an outstanding cast boasting the likes of Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, and Ben Kingsley alongside Hartnett in the starring role, the movie presented as a fun-filled action spectacle. It also utilized a twisty story, heavily stylized characters, and eye-catching set design to make a lasting impression on audiences.

4. 'The Virgin Suicides' (1999)

For much of the early part of his career, Josh Hartnett was considered a heartthrob. It is easy to see how his role in The Virgin Suicides may be a big reason for that. As Sofia Coppola’s directorial debut, it focuses on five sheltered teenage sisters in 1970s America and the neighborhood boys who grow obsessed with them.

Based on Jeffrey Eugenides novel of the same name, the film uses the boys’ reminiscing of their younger days as the framework for the premise, allowing the film to take on a hypnotic, dreamlike meditation of adolescent angst. In what was just his third feature film credit, Hartnett was able to make the part of the young Trip Fontaine a memorable highlight of his career.

3. 'Sin City' (2005)

With its striking stylistic choices, graphic yet cartoonish violence, and forbidden allure, Sin City was a barnstorming, flamboyant dose of comic book ultra-violence. It follows a range of shady characters as they go about their business in the cesspool that is Sin City, with everything from vigilante cops to ex-prostitutes and their lovers getting their time to shine.

Within the chaos, Hartnett appeared as The Salesman — aka The Man or The Colonel — a slick assassin who is hired by a woman who wants to kill herself. His small, condensed story of passion and violence proved to be a perfect introduction to the film, highlighting its neo-noir tone, arresting style, and penchant for jarring and abrupt violence.

2. 'Black Hawk Down' (2001)

Based on real events, Ridley Scott’s grueling yet gripping modern war drama presented a horrifying depiction of combat. Following the American Special Forces units who were sent into Mogadishu to capture two lieutenants of a violent warlord, it shows how the mission went wrong as the soldiers were overrun and two of their Black Hawk helicopters were shot down.

While it was somewhat limited in scope and perspective, Black Hawk Down was incredibly effective as a no-holds-barred nosedive into combat's graphic intensity and abruptness. Hartnett was more than comfortable in the starring role, leading a stellar ensemble cast with aplomb.

1. 'Oppenheimer' (2023)

Oppenheimer should go on to become one of the biggest films of 2023. A commercial smash hit and a critically acclaimed masterpiece from Christopher Nolan, the film follows J. Robert Oppenheimer’s (Cillian Murphy) work on developing the atomic bomb and the political fallout that came as a result of that and his leftist leanings.

Among the many great delights the film offered, one that made many fans happy was seeing Hartnett back on the big screen in a major blockbuster. His supporting role was also quite significant, portraying the Nobel Prize-winning nuclear physicist and Oppenheimer’s colleague Ernest Lawrence, which gave him ample opportunity to showcase his acting talents.'

[uniasus]

what’s your thoughts on the concept of a tua danny phantom au with viktor (or klaus) as danny?

So my first thought is yes, Klaus is Danny. Essentially immortal teen, yeah? With the power to talk to ghosts? Easy. But then I had to think about who Viktor would be, and then from there it sorta spiraled.

So!

TUA X DP AU

Klaus and Luther are brothers, and Luther takes the role of big brother Very Seriously to the point where Klaus shakes him at school and on weekends to hang out with the besties - Ben (who takes Sam's role, and is just as into the goth stuff just with a more Cthulu bent) and Five (who takes Tucker's role as a tech genius and strong fascination with anything that bleeds red. Tucker can identify meet by smell, Five can take one look at a cut and tell you more about where it came from than you ever want to know)

Klaus's accident is less the results of a dare and more of Five being sure that he can fix what Grace and Pogo (Human in this AU) did wrong. Five thinks it's something with a hook-up in the portal and as Ben is too distracted by an ectoplasm lava lamp he's sure is trying to send a message from beyond, Klaus suits up, walks inside, and bam! Electrocuted because that lava lamp was somehow hooked up to the energy flow of the portal and Ben touched it.

No, harm, no foul, until Klaus starts to develop powers.

There's no real reason to not tell his parents, Grace and Pogo only have an academic interest in ghosts, but he doesn't want to worry them. He tries, a few times, but it always goes...weird.

Who does know is Diego. Ahem. Mr. Pitts, the English teacher. He's got a strange eye for kids. He isn't the most popular with students but has a strong sense of their needs. Extra time to think. A supportive ear. Someone to point CPS in the right direction. He's been eyeing Ben for a while - any kid that interested in the macabre has a reason - so he notices the shift in Klaus and how Ben and Five act around him. Diego thinks Klaus is hiding bruises, but it's powers.

With the portal open, ghosts come through and Klaus does fight them off, but his obsession isn't a hero complex, it's just wanting to help. Wanting to be useful. It means Ben and Five had to get more involved because if a ghost pushes the right buttons Klaus helps them instead of the town.

This is a problem when he meets a ghost going by The Monocle aka Reggie. Reggie in this AU is an old mentor of Grace and Pogo, overseeing their college career, and he'd become family of a sort. Grace and Pogo used to have Thanksgiving at his house for years, knowing his wife Abigail and adopted daughter Allison. Thing is, a failed experiment turned Reggie into a halfa and he's extremely upset that the change caused Grace and Pogo to abandon him. A fear Reggie puts in Klaus, and he wonders if that's the unknown reason why he'd been unable to tell his parents.

Grace and Pogo flip out at The Monocle, as they'd believed that Reggie had 100% died, not 50%. So a lot of the conflict would be Reggie trying to get Klaus to turn against his parents, and Klaus struggling to do that while Grace and Pogo are deeply invested in proving out the afterlife.

Viktor, in this world, OP short king that I love, I'm making Clockwork. He's a little more overbearing in this AU than canon but still mainly hands off because Klaus's susceptibility is a risk. There's a genuine concern that his obsession might make him let his parents go too far in their research to understand ghosts, so Viktor's been getting in the way of that.

[hecrtgolden]

(  JONATHAN  DAVIS  +  CIS  MALE  +  HE  /  HIM  )     🠒     PARENTS  by  yungblud  is  something  that  resonates  with  SAMMY  TURNER.   the  drug  dealer  /  bartender  at  glen  ellen’s  local  bar  is  glen  ellen's  very  own   DIRTBAG   who  has  been  in  town  for  fifteen  years  and  while  they  are  only  twenty  five,    they  can  be  very   SHORT  FUSED    but  if  their  friends  mentioned  them,    you'd  think  they  were  more  LOYAL.   in  a  town  where  every  one  knows  everyone,    it's  hard  to  keep  a  secret,     but  i  think  the  killer  knows  that  [  REDACTED  ],     and  it's  bound  to  get  out  sometime  soon.   i  wonder  if  the  killer  also  thinks  of   bloodied  knuckles,  care  bear  plasters,  misplaced  anger,  shotgunning  at  parties,  black  nail  polish,  discarded  baggies,  a  thick  cockney  accent   like  i  do,    when  i  think  of  them. 

full name — samuel alexander turner nickname(s) — sam, sammy. name meaning — god has heard age — twenty five date of birth — april 1st place of birth — hackney, london, england current location — glen ellen, california, us gender — cis-male pronouns — he/him sexual orientation — homosexual

height — 5′11 religion — agnostic occupation — bartender / drug dealer education level — high school family — douglas turner ( father ), katherine turner ( mother ) joshua, caleb, poppy, beau, max, mila ( siblings ) finances — lower working class / poor spoken languages — English 

medical diagnosis’ — adhd, depression, ptsd, anxiety, oppositional defiance disorder

voiceclaim — danny dyer

Inspired by : James Cook ( Skins ), Mickey Maguire ( shamless ), Neil Sutherland ( the inbetweeners ), Nathan Young ( misfits ), alex karev ( greys anatomy )

Tw for abuse, substance misuse, violence. 

- Sammy is the second eldest of several children born to Douglas and Katherine Turner. He grew up in a two bedroom housing estate in Hackney, London. He attended a state school on the verge of closure, he ran wild ran the estate with friends a lot older. He did everything and anything to avoid going home. Nobody saw the signs - or more, nobody wanted to see the signs. 

- Douglas and Katherine did not parent well. They barely existed well. Douglas was abusive in his methods with a temper that couldn’t be controlled around adults or children. Katherine, sweet Katherine, grew tired and fearful. Trapped and complacent. Josh and Sammy basically took on the role of parents to the smalls. 

- Shortly after his tenth birthday the family immigrated to the states. ‘too much trouble over ‘ere’ Douglas had mumbled. 

- Coming into teenage hood, Sammy grew angry. Angry at his situation and the cards dealt to him. He had always struggled in school, but now his behaviour was unmanageable. It was like his body was constantly in fight or flight mode. ‘Defensive, Lazy, Unmotivated - a teachers nightmare’ - all words scrawled across his report cards over the years. they don’t care, Sammy had realised. They don’t want to listen to my screams for help. nobody fucking cares.

- It would have been obvious, to anybody who stepped back and looked at the entire unit, that Sammy had a magnitude of odds stacked against him. Some days all he needed was a fucking win. Somebody to turn around and say that they saw him. Nobody did. He was pegged as a failure before he even had a chance. Nobody cares !! Nobody cares !! It’s all his fault and nobody fucking cares !!

- Douglas only grew angrier with age and the aggression only got worse as his kids grew stronger and started to fight back. Stupid sack of shit - you’ll never win against him.

- Sammy knew he would never win. He knew by fourteen that it was futile to try. He took whatever fist was thrown at him, and he spent his teenage years stepping between his father and his siblings, pleading with his mother to do something. If she couldn’t protect them, he would. Josh had grown useless in his own years. While Sammy only felt anger, he felt a strong desire to step away and keep his head down. Coward - why don’t you grow a better fucking coping mechanism !!

- aside from the obvious, there was another undetected reason for Sammy’s piss poor school performance. He couldn’t read - not well at least. He had managed to skirt by this issue for the majority of his life. He used their own diastase of him to hide the embarrassment. He spoke in jibberish with a shit eating grin when asked to read aloud, made sexual innuendos when questioned about board work and kicked off or doodled on school tests. Fuck it, if they didn’t care, why should he?. Until one teacher did, one who had been eyeing up the boy and taking note of his deteriorating behaviour for a while. He kept him back one afternoon and asked Sammy to read a passage from the assigned text to him. Sammy did the usual - pout and moan and roll his eyes and demand to be let go for lunch. This interaction repeated itself again and again, and after years of screaming to be seen, he suddenly wanted to be left alone again.

- this teacher didn’t leave him alone. In fact, he invested in Sammy. He encouraged him to take up drumming, and payed for his lessons (unbeknownst to Sammy, who assumed it was free), he tutored him after school and once building up some trust he took Sammy for an eye test one afternoon. It transpired that not only could Sammy not read well, he couldn’t see very well either. The opticians where shocked at how he had been going about day to day tasks with one blind eye and the other with intense short sightedness (not that he will wear the stupid glasses. Fuck that).

- Adulthood doesn’t feel too dissimilar to teenage hood, Sammy finds. It’s still just misdirected anger and school runs he didn’t sign up for. It’s still running for your life against wolves, it’s still fight or flight and pre conceived judgements. It’s still untamed loyalty that his teachers swore he would grow out of. The only difference is while he once questioned why the universe just wanted to piss on him, he know understands it’s probably deserved.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

- Exes / hookups / fwb: Sammy is massively touch starved and falls for people very easily (though he will never admit it). He always tends to be the one to fuck it up though

- The teacher: as stated in his bio, this teacher has a massive positive impact on Sammy and changed the course of his life. They still check up on Sammy and is no doubt teaching the other Turners right now. They may even be Sammys call when he gets arrested for dumb shit. 

- best friends: while Sammy can appear to be a pos, he has the biggest heart in the world. He really is just misunderstood but once he builds a connection he guards it with his life.

Enemies: It’s well known this boy likes to throw a punch or two - if you’re lucky it could be you!

Clients: As well as working at the bar, Sammy also deals drugs. The money is mostly used to support his siblings, so really it’s like charity! The more drugs you do, the more shoes there are for the kids!

Potential partners: I have nothing to say but 😢 give him one good thing

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Here’s all you need to know about the six-part series.

Who is in The Couple Next Door cast?

Eleanor Tomlinson as Evie

Eleanor Tomlinson will take on the role of Evie in the upcoming Channel 4 series.

The 31-year-old actress rose to fame after her role as Jas in the 2008 teen comedy Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging.

Eleanor is best known for her role as Demelza in the BBC hit drama Poldark, alongside Aidan Turner.

Sam Heughan as Danny

Outlander’s Sam Heughan will play Danny in The Couple Next Door.

The Scottish actor is best known for his role as the Highland warrior Jamie Fraser in the fantasy series, Outlander, available to watch on Starz and Lionsgate+.

Fans were dismayed when it was announced the Scotland-based TV drama was scrapped, so will be glad to see Sam back on their screens in his new role.

Alfred Enoch as Pete

Playing Pete will be Alfred “Alfie” Enoch, who famously starred as Dean Thomas in the Harry Potter franchise.

The British-Brazilian actor, born in 1989, has had a steady stream of acting roles, in shows like Broadchurch, Sherlock, and Trust Me.

He has also starred on stage in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet at the Globe, and As You Like It at Soho Place.

Hugh Dennis as Alan

Bafta-nominated British comedy actor Hugh Dennis will star as Alan in the upcoming thriller series.

Best known for his role in the sitcom Outnumbered, Hugh also had a role in Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s hit two-part series, Fleabag.

Hugh started his career on Spitting Image and is now in a relationship with his former Outnumbered co-star, Claire Skinner.

Jessica De Gouw as Becka

Jessica De Gouw will take on the role of Beck in The Couple Next Door.

The Australian actress is best known for her role as Helena in Arrow, and as Meghan in The Secret She Keeps.

Jessica is currently in a relationship with British actor Oliver Jackson-Cohen, after they met while starring in NBC’s Dracula.

What is The Couple Next Door about?

At the start of the new six-part series Evie and Pete have just moved to an idyllic neighbourhood, but find themselves struggling under the social pressures and status anxiety of suburban life.

They soon befriend the couple living next door, traffic cop Danny, and his yoga-teacher wife Becka — who turn out to be in an open relationship.

The two couples become progressively entwined, as Evie begins an affair with Danny.

The Couple Next Door has been described as a “deliciously dark, psychological drama, exploring the claustrophobia of suburbia and the fallout of chasing your deepest desires.”

Where was The Couple Next Door filmed?

Filming for The Couple Next Door took place in Leeds and Belgium in 2023.

Some scenes were shot on Baildon Moor near Bradford in Yorkshire in April 2023.

The Channel 4 series is a remake of a 2014 Dutch show called Nieuwe Buren, which translates to New Neighbours in English.

When does The Couple Next Door start?

The first episode of The Couple Next Door will be broadcast in the UK on Channel 4 on Monday, November 27, 2023, at 9 pm.

The series will also be available on STARZ in the US and Canada at some point in 2024.

The Couple Next Door is directed by Dries Vos, and written by David Allison.

The Scottish star Sam Heughan, playing Danny, told the Radio Times: "I’m thrilled to be working with Eagle Eye Drama and director Dries Vos again and adding a third series with my STARZ family.”

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week #113 (Year 3/Week 9):

🍿

2 with both Anthony Hopkins And Vanessa Kirby:

🍿 The son, my second by French playwright Florian Zeller (after ’The Father’). A very slow and atmospheric family drama about not-intuitive father Hugh Jackman who can’t realize that his estranged 17 year old son is being crippled by an overwhelming cloud of depression. I liked the Hans Zimmer score. 5/10.

🍿 “... Good evening, Pussy...”

The Dresser by Richard Eyre is based on a British play and movie from the early 80′s. It tells of an aging Shakespearean actor who is playing ‘King Lear’ during the Blitz. Hopkins is the grand old master, and Ian McKellen is his loyal assistant. Grand acting all around in the old theatrical tradition, where each movement is busy and even small physical gestures are extended and emphasized. Majestic and mesmerizing - 9/10.

🍿

3 more with Bill Nighy:

🍿 Notes on a scandal (2006), another English film directed by Richard Eyre. Cate Blanchett is a pretty teacher who starts an affair with a 15-year-old pupil of her, and Judi Dench is an older school colleague who’s infatuated with her. It also features Bill Nighy, cute teenager Juno Temple, and Joanna Scanlon (From ‘After Love’). 6/10.

🍿 I recently saw Kurosawa’s classic ‘Ikiru’ again, in anticipation of the new British adaptation, Living. So now I can say, it was a serviceable retelling, but why was it necessary? 6/10.

🍿 Another mandatory re-watch of Hot Fuzz, the perfect buddy-cop comedy-action homage to everything from ‘A fistful of Dollars’ and ‘Chinatown’ to ‘Goodfellas’ and ‘The shining’.

The dialogue is one quotable line after another: ‘What's the matter, Danny? Never taken a shortcut before?’, ‘Feel free to spool through!’, ‘Ever fired your gun in the air and yelled, 'Aaaaaaah?', ‘No luck catching them killers then?’, ‘If we don't come down hard on these clowns, we are gonna be up to our balls in jugglers’, ‘Everybody and their mums are packing ’round here.’ The whole brilliant script is exquisite. 10/10.

Bonus: A reel of Bloopers and gags. Yarp.

🍿

Life among the ruins: my first by ‘least-known’ black filmmaker Charles Burnett, Killer of Sheep. A masterpiece of Italian Neo-realism in Watts, CA of the early 70′s, and the most blatant example of how industry snubbed and crushed Black film throughout the 20th Century.

This was Burnett’s no-budget student film thesis at the UCLA School of Film, and was practically ignored and unseen until recently. A profound slice of life poem of a poor community struggling to survive. Especially sad are the children playing in the street, jumping on roof tops.

The allegory of the ‘Sheep to the slaughterhouse’ (The main character, Sam, works at a meat factory) was a bit thick, but the tender dancing scene played on the background of Dinah Washington's ‘This Bitter Earth’ and the rest of the film was devastating. 8/10 poetry. I plan on watching Elvis Mitchell’s new film essay ‘Is That Black Enough for You?’ about The History of Black Cinema in the 1970′s next.

🍿

2 new Belgians dramas about little girls:

🍿 The remarkable Playground, an extremely simple but brilliant story of schoolyard bullying. A shy 7-year-old girl witnesses her brother being abused as she is drawn into it with tragic results. Quiet, powerless and nearly mute, she has to go through small traumas that are too real and overwhelming. Told exclusively from a child’s (literal) point of view. Oscar-submitted debut feature from a young female director. And Again, the little girl was tremendous. 9/10. 

🍿 The Broken Circle Breakdown, a 2012 drama about a Belgian couple of Bluegrass musicians who can’t cope with the death of their 6-year-old daughter. The exact first half as they fall in love and their daughter is born and then gets sick is hard to watch. The second non-linear half is more of a melodrama.

🍿

Late Spring, my 4th by Yasujirō Ozu, and my 2nd of the “Noriko trilogy”, about the life of single women in postwar Japan, in this case a woman who lives with her widowed father, and who doesn’t want to marry so as not to abandoned him. An understated poem, like a sound of a flute.

🍿

Revisiting Roy Andersson:

🍿 Being a human being (2019) is a loving portrait of Roy Andersson, my favorite Swedish director, in the three long years as he was shooting his final movie. A slow and wistful journey of a unique iconoclast crafting meticulous Trompe-l'œils in his Stockholm studio. Vulnerability, insecurity and mortality are mixed with his alcoholism, his relationship to Goya, the perfection of his craft.

I’ve seen all his work, (except of Giliap!). It’s a pity he will probably not do more. The trailer. My favorite film of the week.

🍿 So I had to watch again his moving About Endlessness, the subject of the documentary above. A sad, absurd masterpiece composed of 31 small visual poems, a flawless gem of art. Every word I wrote about it last year still stands.

🍿 I also learnt about his 1987 “educational” short about AIDS Something Happened (Någonting har hänt), which caused controversy because it already featured the signature style that he used in his last 4 films. I can’t find a full copy of this 24 minutes film: Only clips: The Sex-ed class applying condoms, the Volunteers in prison and the Congress of Physicians.

Bonus, his Studio 24 YouTube Channel offers some of the many commercials he directed during his Wilderness Years.

🍿

First watch: Richard Linklater hilarious classic School of Rock, which retained its freshness due exclusively to Jack Black’s irreplaceable commitment. Few comedies from that period stayed wholesome. Sarah Silverman plays the bitchy girlfriend. 7/10.

🍿

2 more with Samantha Morton:

🍿 The Whale, my 2nd by Darren Aronofsky. Brendan Fraser will surely win this year’s Oscar for his portrayal of the morbidly-obese father who tries to connect with his estranged daughter before he expires. And he will 100% deserve it. The whole movie takes place in one living room, and there are only 5 characters, 4 of which are good. 9/10.

🍿 Sweet and lowdown, Woody Allen’s Django Reinhardt’s mockumentary with Sean Penn playing the fictional jazz guitarist Emmet Ray. The ‘Genius Artist’ as a misbehaving louse, who’s always excused because he produces such sublime ‘Artworks’ - the usual Woody Allen dilemma. And Samantha Morton was nominated for an Oscar, in spite of the fact that she does not utter a single word of dialogue in the film, as she plays a mute laundress. 3/10 for the story - 9/10 for the soundtrack.

🍿

I decided to take a bite of the list of films with 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, which I haven’t seen yet. The earliest one (1920) is the classic The Golem: How He Came into the World. A silent German expressionistic-style monster classic with distinctly medieval Jewish flair. Some interesting special effects and an ending with ‘a little girl meets the monster’ that was later copied in ‘Frankenstein’. (Photo Above).

🍿

God’s angry man, Werner Herzog’s 1981 documentary about Gene Scott, the earliest of the televangelist grifters. What an amazing phenomena, how the religious scammers, charlatans and con-men took over the world! 7/10.

At the heart of the Herzog’s touch is him finding an outrageous topic and simply sticking a running camera in front of it.

Bonus: Robin Williams as Gene Scott.

🍿

First re-watch in many years: Peter Weir’s thriller Witness. Well-executed, unhurried direction in a rare story set up among the Amish. The sub-plot of pretty widow Kelly McGillis looking for love with TWO males right after her husband was dead and buried seems out-dated. With a cameo by Viggo Mortensen in his first film role. 5/10.  

🍿

Chelsea Handler: Revolution, her latest stand-up special with screeds about Covid, choosing to be childless, sex and pot. 3/10.

🍿

Grand Canons, by Alain Biet. A Visual Symphony of Thousands of Everyday Objects, from flyswatters to light bulbs.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here)

[be-points]

Danny Kim : TRAINEE BASE POINTS

Leadership (5)

It may naturally come from being a teacher over time, at the dance studio, where Danny is now comfortable directing people, especially in the field of dance, but it naturally is becoming apart of his personality in general, where it comes to be able to take himself out of a situation in order to make a decision for the better of the group.

Solo Performance (5)

 Danny is both used to performing with his dance crew, but also doing pieces alone. When he choreographs, it often is spent with time by himself in the studio, alone, and he’s very comfortable with this, and interested in this.

Creative Direction (5) 

Maybe it comes from the background of choreographing, but Danny has a vision in mind when he wants something to be executed in a certain way, and it stems all the way to the creative, ‘behind the scenes’, visuals and stylistic cues too.

Special Skill (10) Contemporary Dance & (5) B-Boy

While there are many aspects of dance that Danny has learned through his years, his favourites are contemporary dance which is his main focus for his personal journey, but he’s learned other types of dance through his studies and time at the dance studio too. Hip hop and b-boying are newer ones to him, but Danny’s intent on mastering them through time as well. That being said, contemporary is where the heart is at.

Korean (20) & English (50) 

Danny’s native language is English and it was only in his late teens that he moved to Korea in order to move due to family. He always spoke Korean at home with his family and had some Sunday schooling, but it was only when he fully immersed into living in Seoul that his Korean became more fluent. Even so, he’s most comfortable with English and struggles with translating some terms.

[lynnzzz]

"The love story"

a/n: this is an English assignment i had to do not long ago. it was a pain in the ass and I was struggling a lot. but it's about a couple of characters I've been working on. I've been thinking of making comics with them and this is the idea for the first comic to introduce what I want to be "the main squad" of the story! If anyone reads this then I hope you enjoyed it! thank you for your time! <3

Written by: Ehh_Lynnzzz

I put down my pen and put my head down on my table, I look over at Kiera who also put down her pen and give her test to the teacher. I can't help but admire her for a second, her face is slim and filled with freckles. Her eyes are green, and her red curly hair is almost to her waist. She stretches and says “damn, finally that’s done!” “I know right” I answer as I yawn, we’ve been doing finals for the last 4 weeks, and finally we get to rest a couple of weeks before the summer break.  

I think I've liked Kiera since we were in middle school, which is a long time now. I want to ask her out, but I don’t really have that kind of confidence. I put my face down again and sigh, then I feel Kieras's hand on my shoulder, and I look up at her, “You good?” she tilts her head and smiles as she asks the question, “Yeah, yeah I'm good” I get up from my chair and follow Kiera out to sit down on a bench and eat lunch together, now, I should ask her. “Hey Kiera, can I ask you something?” I keep looking gown on my lunch. “Yeah, of course!” she's looking at me now, I hesitate and just as I was about to ask her, I can feel an arm thrown across my shoulders. “Yoo dude! Hope we’re not interrupting anything” it's my bandmate Danny, the dude as something for always showing up in the worst moments ever, our other bandmate, Eric; is right behind him. I laugh a bit at Danny and ask them how the test went. “You were going to ask me something?” Kiera asks, “Yeah... it's not important it can wait.” Kieras two friends, Indiana and Olivia, are also joining us now. Me and my friends keep bantering like we usually do, and Kiera and her friends are catching up on how the test went. 

We finish up our lunch and start heading over to our next class, its English, which I suck at, and I don’t have English with Kiera. My bandmates keep being on my back about asking her you, which is fair considering they have been dealing with me and this crush on her forever as well. “Bro, you have to ask her out! you don’t want to watch her start dating another dude wondering if that could have been you.” Danny says while sitting on his table. “I know! I know!” I answer, I’m exhausted and mad at myself at this point, I really need to ask her soon. The teacher is getting everyone's attention and asks Dan to get down from the table and sit down, which he does surprisingly quickly. Everyone gets their notebooks out and start taking notes as she speaks about English grammar.  

After class I go back to the bench outside to meet up with Keira, she's sitting with her friends talking about how their Food ED teacher sucks, I tap her on her shoulder and ask, “You coming to math?” “Yeah!” she gets up and waves goodbye to her friends, before we go into class, I stop her “Hey, about my question earlier”, “Oh yeah!” she says, “what's up?” she tilts her head again. “I was just wondering-” I get caught off by one of our classmates running up to us and asking Keira for her notes from economics class, and she, of course, says yes. They go over to her table, and she gets her notes out of her bag, she has the best notes in class, so I'm not surprised that people go to her for notes. “Next time make sure to take your own notes! I’m not going to keep giving you notes if you don’t even try” she scolds the classmate and then chuckles and sits down. Then the teacher starts going over the last lesson and starts talking about the next lesson plan, so I must get down as well and start taking notes.  

I couldn't catch her before she had volleyball practice and I had band practice, we both kind of rushed to separate parts of the school, but my band practice was a little shorter than her volleyball practice, so I wait by the door until they start cleaning up and call out to her, she starts jogging my way and when she stops I say, “Okay, I've been trying to ask you this all day but never had a good moment so here I go.” she looks kind of worried, “Do you want to go on a date with me?” I think my heart is beating twice as hard as it should be. She's quiet for a couple of seconds, “yeah, I would love that.” she says while blushing. I smile at her and say “So, tomorrow after school?” “Sounds like a plan!” she answered. She smiles back at me, and we have a moment of silence before my bandmates jump me, “Nice dude! You finally asked her!!” Eric basically screaming, Kiera laughs together with the volleyball team who also heard Eric call. The date went well, it was simple and fun, we just got some sushi and ate it in a park, I also played some guitar and sang a song that the guys were working on the week before. Later that night we joined our other friends at the beach. 

Thank you so much for reading! <3

[quirkless-accident]

Prompt: Someone in the school (a student, you choose) finds evidence that Phantom has been seen throughout history.

Izuku Midoriya was kind of known for being the most observant kid in the class. With his love of heroes and quirks, and his general anxiety he was hyper observant almost all the time.

This extended into his hobbies, of course. Quirk analysis, fighting, training, and absolutely dominating Iida at Monopoly.

And also his internet searches.

He couldn't really believe what he was seeing. Even without squinting too hard, the person on his screen was none other than his classmate. They even had the same logo on their chest. But it didn't make any sense. This was history paper-turned rabbit hole research about ancient Rome.

There were hundreds of drawings and paintings and carvings and etchings of Danny-or at least, of his doppelganger. Most of them were negative, and in an hour Izuku had his reason why.

Apparently, under the incredibly short reign of Emperor Plasmius, Doppelganger came and fought him, destroying the colosseum in the process.

Izuku clicks on a link and opens it in another tab. It's another sighting of Doppelganger (at least, Izuku is really hoping it's not actually Danny. He's not sure how he would cope if time travel was another power his friend casually had). This time it's drawings and journal entries written in English, but with Mic's classes and the fact that he had nothing better to do as a child, he doesn't struggle one bit when it comes to translating them. Though it is a bit trickier with the Old English that's being used.

But they're all accounts from Salem. Izuku recognizes the name. There had been a vigilante named Salem running around when he was around nine or ten, and he had wanted to get as much information on them as he could. And, well, there wasn't much. But Izuku had gone down a rabbit hole about Salem, Massachusetts.

Of course his little nine year old brain hadn't thought twice about the drawings of Danny. Back then he had thought they were a part of some kind of hallucination or tall tale. This was before the dawn of quirks, after all. But looking at them now, it's painfully obvious that he had just been kidding himself.

And these...These were all so incredibly detailed. Pages upon pages of information. Of blood blossoms and a boy with an iron stomach. Of a dark haired witch that had aligned herself with the dead.

There were recipes for food and sludges and other odd things by one John Fenton Nightingale, meant to protect from possession and ghosts in general. But...That was odd. Wasn't Danny's last name Fenton? Izuku wondered if there was any kind of connection. This was all too much to be a coincidence.

Theories upon theories were running through Izuku's head. It could be a time travel quirk, either possessed by Danny or someone else. Or maybe he was exactly like the passages said, just an undead god looking for something to do. And if that was true then what in the world was he doing here in U.A. of all places? If he was some kind of immortal god then why in the world would he want to spend time with a bunch of rowdy teenagers and grumpy teachers all the time? Why would he subject himself to a world so cruel?

Maybe it was the same reason Izuku did. Maybe it was so he could help people, and be a hero. Or maybe it was just easier to do everything within the confines of the law, as to not be caught.

But maybe this theory was wrong, too. After all, Danny had parents. Bright, happy, loving parents who were both alive. Certainly not gods themselves, not like Danny possibly was.

Izuku wasn't religious by any means, but if he was going to believe in any god, it would be someone like Danny. Strong and all powerful, even if he himself didn't realize it yet.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, grimacing at the sting from staring at a screen for so long. This was...A lot. And there was a massive chance he was wrong, but the chance that this was all some weird coincidence was slim to none. His gut was telling him that.

Still, he couldn't be quiet about this.

----------------

Izuku fidgeted as he pulled on Danny's sleeve to get him to stay behind with him. Danny gave him a quizzical look before shrugging and following Izuku over to Mr. Aizawa's desk. That was one thing Izuku really appreciated about his friend. He was laid back. The go-with-the-flow type that eased his anxieties just enough to get him to get the words from his mouth.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Aizawa asked tiredly. He looked them over, unimpressed but willing to hear what they had to say. Danny, as if to cue him, looked over to Izuku, who fumbled with the research he found last night.

"I'm just-just-I have a few questions," Izuku said. "About Danny. I think you have a time travelling doppelganger." That, oddly enough, was not the theory he believed in the most, but it was the safest route to take. Plus it would be his excuse to have them both in the conversation. Aizawa's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he glanced between the two boys. One of whom looked incredibly confused.

"What do you mean a time traveling doppelganger?" Danny asked. There was a defensive wedge to his voice, but Izuku was too high strung in the moment to try and properly decipher it as he pulled out the binders he made for them last night and handed them over.

Aizawa's expression was carefully neutral, but he could see a twitch of confusion in his brows. Danny, though, seemed to come to a realization as he flipped through the pages and articles, even going so far as to snort at the section Izuku found on John Fenton Nightingale.

"Is this...?" Aizawa asked, briefly glancing at Danny.

"Yeah," Danny replied. "From before U.A."

Izuku had no idea what the fuck any of that meant, but it seems that whatever little secret Danny has, Aizawa knows about. And if Aizawa knows about it, then maybe everything is okay, right?

There's a long, tired sigh from their teacher as he closes the binder and looks at Izuku. "You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"Probably-probably not, sir," Izuku shrugged. It was new knowledge, new answers. If he could get his hands on them, he was going to hold on to them as tight as he could.

"Might want to take a seat, then," Danny said with a sigh, seemingly coming to the same conclusion as Aizawa. "It's a long story."

[totallyexhausted]

So, I am re-watching Danny Phantom and the idea of Lancer caring for an ill Danny crossed my mind after I read all the ones I could find. I also toyed with Danny’s powers; him being able to change, obviously, but also seance and see dead spirits (and ghosts; leaving spirits and ghosts as separate entities) walking around. Basically, I upped the rating on Danny Phantom and combined Klaus Hargreeves powers with Danny’s own abilities.

Also, I’ll say, and maybe it’s the song I’m listening to, or the fact that I was reworking Greenberg and Coach from TW, but I got the picture of Danny showing up at Lancer’s door, high off his ass mumbling about Sam, Ghosts, and other teenager things.

…………………………………..

Lance Lancer had never seen a kid so sick, nor did he remember his own son ever being this ill. Danny groaned loudly, curling further into himself, his arms tightly protecting his stomach as his nails dug bloody indents on his forearms. He was shivering, his ghost sense going off every few minutes, creating a barely visible burst of cold air biting back against his sweaty flesh. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to forget about the spirits flooding the room. As he tried to forget their voices, their screams, their hands brushing over him as they pleaded for him to look. As they begged for him to help.

Lancer bit his bottom lip as he pressed his hand harder against the 17-year-old’s shaking front shoulder, his other trying to work through some of the knots plaguing the boy’s shoulder blades. He shouldn’t have this many tight muscles, this much stress forced in his back at his age… and the fact that Danny seemed to curl tighter into himself, straining his muscles further every time he took a slow, shallow breath, worried the English teacher more.

The teenager groaned again, clenching his eyes shut tighter as he swallowed quickly, letting out a shaky breath. He stilled, hoping his lack of movement would help ease the nausea stampeding through his body and after taking several slow breaths, he relaxed. He hated being sick… not that anyone loved puking their guts out for hours, let alone in someone else’s home, but his ghost sense always made him on-edge, unable to sleep peacefully or unwind. Every spark of Ghost-breath as Tucker called it, sent violent shivers through him making it harder for his body to heat or cool properly.

The last time Danny remembered being this sick was a few days after the Accident. He’d been on a famous “Fenton Family Vacation,” which was just code for some lame ghost-convention his parents attended every year, forcing their two kids to cram in the RV for a 12-hour car trip to some middle-class hotel. Usually, Jazz and Danny occupied their time exploring the city or making fun of the people who attended the convention. But since the Accident a few days before, for Danny, the family vacation turned into 3-days of complete feverish hell as his body tried to figure out how to survive with only half an immune system, half the person he used to be.

There wasn’t much to remember from that experience except cold showers, endless puking, aimless wondering in some sauna-type hotel as Danny tried running from himself, and the vague memory of leaning against his father several times as his mother coaxed him to take whatever foul-tasting liquid she wanted him to drink. Whether or not his parents actually attended the convention, or if Jazz had explored the same boring city, Danny couldn’t remember. But he remembered his parents arguing, his sister cradling him to her chest on the bathroom floor, and at some point, crouching under the bathroom counter as he forced himself small, trying to hide from the green-eyed, white-haired kid in the mirror or the bloody, contorted people following him. Since then, sickness never came easy despite his immune system being half-dead or ghosted or whatever it was Tucker had told him.

The 17-year-old pressed his face against the comforter, lessening the pain shooting through his temples as the thought of puking again slowly began to evade, and his head welcomed the soft cool fabric cushioning the migraine eating away at his jawline. He was lying at the edge of the bed, curled into what had to be a pathetic sweaty ball, his knees pulled halfway to his chest as he braced his arms across his stomach. This was hell. It had to be. Because only some sick fuck would make him miserable, feverishly grasping what little reality he could hold onto, and so nauseous he couldn’t move, away from his parents with only Mr. Lancer as his only comfort. It was some kind of sick joke.

Danny’s stomach churned, and he swallowed hard, his hands clammy against his overheated skin, trying to will whatever else he could possibly still have in his stomach, back down. He stilled again, breathing shallowly through his nose, feeling his stomach relax slightly. He sighed internally, praying to God he was done puking as heat lit through his veins, and Danny lurched, retching loudly as he shut his eyes, willing for everything to stop. He had no strength left to hold himself up; his mind fuzzy and everything hard to piece together through sweaty nauseating moments. He whimpered as he lurched again, retching as bitter acidic bile spewed from his mouth, running down his chin, and the 17-year-old coughed harshly, tightening his grip across his stomach, and clenching his eyes shut as he struggled to breathe through the rest of it.

He felt something wipe across his chin and mouth, his stomach lurching further at the thought of the humiliation of being so exhausted and sick he couldn’t even be bothered to wipe any of his vomit away from him. Danny whimpered loudly, letting foul saliva pool from his mouth as his stomach heaved, hanging his head off the edge of the bed over what he had been hoping for the past two hours was a wastebasket… but considering Lancer had rapidly become more concerned with other ailments such as the teenager’s temperature or the tight muscles straining in his shoulders and back, the 17-year-old was willing to bet the dark wooden floor wasn’t pretty. He’d also been too scared to look, not wanting the guilt of Lancer having to clean up his vomit added onto the guilt and humiliation he already felt.

“Alright. Easy, Daniel. It’s alright… just let it all up. It’s alright,” Lancer said as softly as he could. He was pretty sure the kid was mostly delirious by now, his fever spiking as sweat layered on top of him, soaked through damp clothes and sheets that were plastered to the teenager’s pale skin. He couldn’t even hold himself up anymore, his face pressed against the edge of the bed while Lancer kept a firm grasp on his shoulder so the kid wouldn’t topple off.

Lancer pressed the disregarded and mostly warm rag from the nightstand against the teenager’s face; forehead, cheeks, neck, trying his best to mop up as much sweat as he could, trying to cool Danny off as much as he could without physically carrying him into the bathroom and forcing him under a cold shower. It wasn’t ideal, and Lancer knew from previous experience with his own son, it wouldn’t be pretty; but considering Lancer was currently in charge of the poor kid, he was willing to do whatever was necessary. He’d just never seen a kid so sick.

Lightening flashed outside as a branch scrapped against the glass windowpane, thunder clashing loudly as rain continued to beat against the old house. The small leak in the roof audible in the kitchen as tiny droplets fell against some crappy tin figurines his wife failed to take in the divorce. Lancer had always hated them… but he didn’t have the heart to toss them… or admit to himself that those stupid scrap metal trinkets were his last thread he had tied to her. His last hope that maybe she’d come back. But it’d been 12 years… and she wasn’t coming back. Neither was Charlie.

Danny coughed harshly, flinching as something cool touched the back of his neck, brushing sweaty sticky hair matted to his neck from his burning flesh. He felt like he was on fire. No, worse… his core was always cold, freezing almost; so, his temperature was lower than any other humans. So, the fire eating away at his muscles and memories, was excruciating.

He coughed again, wheezing slightly as his heart skipped. He had to be breathing faster than normal… hell, he was breathing faster than normal. Air sucked through achy lungs and forced out through a dry mouth as his heart tried keeping up the pace. He swallowed, pulling his knees further to his chest, shivering again as his ghost sense went off, and he opened his eyes slightly, wincing as the dark room spun in a multitude of blacks, browns, and dark purples. Red mixed against almost translucent flesh as faces inched closer, and Danny’s stomach lurched, hard, as his eyes met the contorted and split face of a middle-aged man in coveralls.

The teenager choked, swallowing loudly as his stomach cramped again, barely feeling Lancer’s hands trying desperately to work out the clenched muscles in his back. Blood dripped from the man’s face; his appearance split into two as his smile dropped in opposite directions. Normally, Danny could ignore it; ignore them… but it was worse when he was vulnerable. He couldn’t block them out. And to be completely honest, the past couple of months hadn’t been easy on him.

He and Sam had broken up before they ever began dating. Tucker had maintained under the radar both boyfriends and girlfriends while helping his childhood crush, Valerie, pick off the ghosts Danny had missed. They were still close, the three of them; but Sam had been more distant, avoiding plans with Danny when it was just the two of them… and deep down the teenager knew it was his fault. Everything was.

The 17-year-old bit his lip, blood coating his tongue as he buried his nails further against his flesh. Sam had almost died. She had been willing to sacrifice everything for Danny… and that was something Danny would never have been able to live with. He had fucked up. He had tried to help… and she had almost died. The faint tan scars still visible against her neckline, shining as a reminder in the sunlight and under the florescent lighting in the chemistry lab. Since then, she’d been doing her best to avoid Danny, and Danny let her. He couldn’t face her. He didn’t know how.

That had been months ago, but it still flooded the teenager’s mind every time he glanced in her direction. Every time their hands touched in chemistry… every time she forced a watered-down excuse past purple lipstick. The sigh. That sigh. She had been scared of him that night. He saw it. The fear plagued across her face. The horror. And Danny didn’t blame her because he scared himself nowadays too.

He felt colder than he had been in his youth, emotions concrete against things that troubled his peers. His demeanor seemed further away as he toppled over the puny shadow of his early years. He wasn’t a pushover; Dash didn’t come near him anymore… but he was still outcasted, marked freakshow as newer threats and tougher bullies appeared. Sam had borne witness to things Tucker knew nothing about; she had seen a darker side of Danny that the teenager tried so damn hard to hide. But it was getting harder… the spirits were bleeding through more and more, scratching his mind and haunting him with nightmares that kept the 17-year-old up most nights. Nothing was a comfort anymore. Not even his friends. Not even his sister.

The teenager’s stomach lurched again, and he felt cooper flood his mouth as he bit his lip harder, forcing his eyes shut, cutting off the images around him as the spirits continued to scream. He breathed through his nose slowly, feeling Lancer’s hand grip his fingers as he tried to pry the teenager’s grip baring against his sweaty flesh.

“Wuthering Heights, Daniel!” Lancer breathed, still trying to force Danny’s fingers away from his arm as the small bloody marks from his nails became visible. Despite visibly shaking, and his breathing coming in teeth-chattering waves, Lancer was surprised Danny’s grip remained resilient. Likewise, when Danny had grabbed his wrist in the hallway earlier, when Lancer had startled the teenager, his icy-blue eyes daggered towards him, watching the older man’s actions, his fingers tight and threatening around his wrist… Lancer had been taken aback by the teenager’s strength. Just like now.

The English teacher sighed, giving up and pressing his hand against the 17-year-old’s shoulder once more as Danny lurched, coughing harshly. Concern and sympathy ate away at Lancer’s expression; his own actions feeling clumsy and foreign as he tried to soothe the teenager as much as he could. As much as he remembered. But he hadn’t comforted his own son in almost 12 years… and Danny had become much more distant and independent over the past three. So, the comfort Lancer used to try and reassure the kid, felt awkward, just as the sickened pain written across the teenager’s pale face, looked wrong.

The lights flickered above, and Lancer glanced up, hoping he wasn’t going to lose power as that would add to his already worrying list of problems. Lightening cracked again, a tree in the front yard visible momentarily as a branch fell against the window, rain threatening to break glass, and the distant sound of a tornado signal blaring through Amity Park.

Danny whimpered loudly, clenching his eyes as voices cut through his skull, pounding against the pain enveloped in his forehead and cheekbones, trailing down his jawline and neck. The bed spun despite the teenager being curled into a tight motionless ball, sweat falling from his hairline as the smell of body odor reached his nostrils, and the 17-year-old gagged.

Lancer pressed a reassuring hand against the teenager’s shoulder, murmuring he’d be right back before rising, grabbing the lukewarm rag from the nightstand, and trashcan from beside the bed as he made his way towards the kitchen. After replacing the trash bag and running the rag through cold water, Lancer sighed loudly, pressing his hands against the counter as he watched water droplets forming through the small hole in his ceiling and ping against the metal statues harbored on the bar.

He huffed again, running a tired hand over his bald head as he stared at his reflection in the dark window. The electricity shut off as the lights flickered before the microwave beeped loudly as the powerlines fought against the storm. He didn’t need this. And if there was any type of superior being looking out for him, they’d keep the lights on. At least, Lancer would have one thing going for him then.

He sighed again, glancing towards the direction of his guestroom then back towards his reflection. It was nearing 5am, and despite the sun aimed to rise in an hour, Lancer doubted it would bleed through the storm that had showed no signs of letting up. He wished it would, wished the skies would clear… wished flights would take off because that meant Danny’s parents and sister could fly home. They’d be able to take better care their son… they’d know what to do. Lancer didn’t. He hadn’t been a dad in years… he hadn’t looked after someone in years…

Danny had been miserable all day, this had become evident to Lancer in 4th period as he berated the teenager for once again sleeping in his class. His cocky, sarcastic attitude pushing the English teacher to his limit as he awarded the 17-year-old with another days’ detention. But it hadn’t been until later that Lancer began to notice things he should have seen to begin with. The dark circles, pale complexion, the bloody nose, and red tint painted across sharp cheekbones; his voice, cracked and sudden, as Danny retorted sarcasm aimed to hurt… his stare gazing past whatever Lancer had been teaching, staring at nothing but looking at everything.

Lancer shook his head as he glanced down at the red coffee cup and abandoned bowl of cereal lying in the sink. This had not been in his Wednesday evening plans… then again, there was no way in hell Lancer was going to let the teenager go home to an empty house. Lord knows what could have happened, and the fact that Danny’s temperature had spiked in the night, confirmed any doubts the older man had of letting the kid stay with him until his parent’s plane landed, which had been grounded until tomorrow evening, at best.

The older man glanced back towards his reflection, catching sight of the radar flashing across the television in his living room, silently. The storm was huge, coming from the Gulf, pressure building from the North and East as it moved slowly over Amity Park. And it was only expected to get worse which was ironically befitting. Lancer had played with the idea of taking Danny to the Emergency Room several times within the past few hours; the only thing stopping him was the question of what was more dangerous: Danny’s illness or the storm?

Jack Fenton had argued while on the phone with Lancer that he had half a mind to rent a car and drive back, despite it being a 20-hour drive back to upstate New York. But much to the English teacher’s amusement, Mr. Fenton’s plan had been shot down from his wife in the background, asking Lancer the condition of her son. Danny’s sister groaning loudly in the background, yelling something about embarrassment. But that had been yesterday evening…

And now. Danny couldn’t keep anything down, not even the miniscule amounts of water Lancer had encouraged him to take to prevent dehydration. His fever had spiked from 102 yesterday to 104.8 through the night, and most of the hardened demeanor Lancer had come to expect from his pupil over the years, was vanquished within a matter of hours. The tough, fuck-you-attitude Danny had adapted, was replaced with the youthfulness of his age. Only 17. He was still a kid; scared, alone, and whether he wanted to admit it, trying his best not to cause his teacher any further inconveniences than he already had. And despite Lancer finding the teenager’s attempts admirable, he found himself at a loss of trying to convince not only the teenager, but himself, that he only wanted to help, to make the kid feel better. But Lancer was so far out of his parental element, and he’d never seen a kid so sick before.

It hadn’t taken long once Lancer had settled down for the night, warming his hands against a mug of tea, quietly watching the news, for things to take a turn. Danny had been rather quiet during the drive to Lancer’s house, slumped in the passenger side, forehead pressed against frosted glass and still mumbling in disagreement with whoever thought he needed a babysitter every couple of minutes. The 17-year-old had attempted to convince Lancer he was fine, that he felt better since puking in detention, and his parents were overreacting. And despite sloppily scribbling through his homework, half of which the older man was certain Danny hadn’t even bothered to read, the teenager remained sullen, flushed, barely touching the sandwich Lancer had offered.

After some time spent brooding in a chair at the kitchen table, Danny had apparently concluded his English teacher wasn’t going to take him home anytime soon. He seemed more compliant then, taking up to inspecting Lancer’s memorabilia instead, trying his best to leave everything exactly as he’d found it. The older man had admired how careful the 17-year-old had been when picking up photos or knickknacks, casting weird what-the-hell-is-this glances towards his teacher as he explored.

Something sounded to his right, and Lancer blinked, running another hand over his head as he cleared his mind. Most of the things taking up refuge in the old house were objects ghosted with the memories of previous family, previous love, a previous life. He had never had the heart to take them down… it was creepily comforting.

Lancer sighed, reaching for the water-soaked rag puddling on the counter as something moved in the corner of his eye causing the older man to jump. He turned, facing the 17-year-old leaning heavily against the wooden arch of the hallway, shaking as he pressed a hand firmly against the wall for support, the rest of his lanky form hunched.

“Great Gatsby, Fenton! What are you doing up?” Lancer advanced, his tone slightly harsher than intended causing the older man to grimace. The teenager looked fairly close to passing out, a hand on his stomach firmly, the other grasped at flat wallpaper. Sweat trailing down his flushed face, forming in droplets at the kid’s chin before melting into his sweat-soaked shirt. Red set high across the bridge of his nose, painting his cheeks as he opened his mouth to speak before closing it, confusion setting across his features.

Lancer made a move towards the teenager as Danny stepped back, his eyes wide as they observed the older man cautiously. The English teacher raised an eyebrow, taking another step forward, a sick feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach as the teenager recoiled once more. Lancer cursed softly, pushing his hand towards the 17-year-old slowly, his voice low and calm as Danny reeled back. Lancer hesitated, “I’m not going to hurt you, Daniel.”

Danny pressed against the wall as Lancer took another step forward, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to focus on the swimming interior around him. He couldn’t breathe, the air around him sucked from tired lungs, voices piercing through his head as he raised a shaky hand to his ear, wincing loudly as the spirits around him grew louder. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling his body struggle against the wall supporting him as he jerked away, wincing again as questions pelted him, begging, pleading for his help, for him to look. Look. Look! Just look at what had happened to them!

“Daniel?” Lancer questioned quickly, stepping forward again as the teenager gasped loudly, forcing a hand against his left ear as blood began dripping slowly from his nose, his shoulder slamming against the ugly wallpaper, “Daniel? Danny! Hey!”

The 17-year-old felt something brush against his wrist, and he forced his eyes open against the harsh lights flickering above him. Everything was hot, confusing, mashed together in a nauseating off-kilter vibrancy that hurt; his legs refusing to support him, lungs unwilling to take air as panic took over as he tried to clear his head, as he tried to remember where the hell he was.

He grimaced, sliding against the wall as his legs fought to keep him upright. He felt wrong. Everything felt wrong, weird, gone. He swallowed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, fear crossing his face as he pulled back, red sticky liquid coating his fingertips. Tears threatened to spill as he tried to catch his breath. This was his fault. Everything. And now he had blood on his hands. Sam’s blood.

Piercing cut through as Danny pressed a shoulder to his ear, crying out as the man in coveralls laughed, reaching towards him. Danny dropped to his knees, his fingers trembling as they slid down the wallpaper, forcing a picture of a little boy in a baseball uniform to the ground; the glass breaking around it as it smashed against the wood flooring. Tears clouded his vision as he glanced towards the photo, the blonde-haired kid morphing, mirroring Danny’s own reflection through splintered glass.

“No,” The 17-year-old choked, pulling the photo from the floor, glass splinters slicing his trembling fingers as the kid’s gap-tooth smile distorted. He couldn’t breathe; suffocating fear eating away at him as he realized he was gone. The kid in the photo was gone. Taken, dead, his soul split, lifeless as the portal had taken everything from him. He had died, leaving behind grief and broken disappointment. His friend’s hurt, bleeding out on the side of the road as Danny struggled to hold onto any humanity he had. As he struggled to save those he should have left long ago.

Blood dotted the photo, the boy’s face hidden by crimson, and Danny wiped his hand under his nose again, smearing blood across his face. The innocent boy in the photo was gone; he had killed himself in the Accident, left behind by evil contentment and a nightmarish reality that he’d never been good enough. He was broken, built in a sweetness that no longer existed, a black gaping hole where his soul was, under aching ribs, sweaty skin and a tormented, fucked up version of himself. A black pit of beautiful disappointment. An unlovable thing. He had become something unlovable, the portal killing the good and resurrecting the bad, and even that wasn’t worth much. He wasn’t worth much.

Danny gagged harshly, crumpling the photo in his hands as the leftover glass pressed into his palm. The floor swaying under his body as he grasped the wall for any support he could find. He wanted to go back; to be his parent’s innocent little boy again, to forget about the shitstorm around him, forget about the portal, forget about those he’d hurt, the blood he’d shed. But that was unfixable. He was. And unforgivable. He’d hurt Sam; hurt others, the blood of death splattered on what was left of himself, his human self. And in the end, he was the cause of everything; the collector of souls, the Grim Reaper labelled by Freakshow years ago. The bringer of death.

Lancer took another cautious step forward, crunching down before reaching once more towards the teenager as Danny crumpled sideways, slamming against the wall beside him. The older man faltered. Sweat glistened against the 17-year-old’s face as he gulped for air, his breathing harsh and sporadic as he pressed a trembling hand against his chest, eyes towards Lancer, clearly alarmed by his own breathing. He coughed roughly, doubling over as he caught his breath, and Lancer reached towards the kid, his fingers brushing against the sweat-soaked cotton fabric clinging to Danny’s shoulders.

The 17-year-old flinched, shoving his English teacher away from him harshly, wincing again as he pressed his shoulder to his left ear. He fell backwards, his knees failing him as he slammed against the wall, his head smacking against the small hall table. Darkness swallowed him momentarily, his hands shaking as the photo was crumpled tighter in his hands, letting out a strangled cry as the spirits towered over him, their eyes white, pupils missing as they shouted his name.

The electricity failed as the teenager recoiled violently, and Lancer swore the kid’s cold-blue eyes flashed green before the lights flickered back on, the light in the living room broke, glass shattering to the ground as Danny flinched, gripping one of the iron legs of the hall table, tightly. He eyed Lancer, his knuckles white against black, his forehead pressed against the cold metal, his breathing labored as he pulled his knees towards him in an effort to make his lanky form small.

The 17-year-old coughed, the sound hurting his chest, forcing his headache to crawl, spreading across his shoulders. He grasped at the metal leg of the table, yearning for more cold than the iron rod was willing to give as he sucked in breath after breath. He couldn’t think anymore, the heat had taken everything from him, had taken his core, leaving him with a spinning floor, voices flooding in dizzying waves, and the horrifying notion he was surrounded by death. He had died… the portal had stolen half of him, and now, the nightmares screaming at him, had killed whatever he had left. And the photo crushed in his hand was all he had of forgotten innocence.

Phantom had taken everything. And no one knew. No one understood. The beating, aching heart pounding in his chest was a lie. He was soulless; Phantom was soulless. Welcoming the darkness that swallowed the person Danny once was. And everything else, everything he did, was insignificant. His life was insignificant, a short dull buzz, a flicker. Just shit that happened and none of it meant anything. It was the flick on his lighter as he tried cupping his trembling hands against the wind, trying to spark one of the cigarettes he’d stolen from his father; the light fading, barely there; lighting what has killing him. Because no one wanted Danny Fenton. He was just a mask of stupid disappointment, broken and haunted by his past, damaged by unlovable fear. A shell of a person; a shell of a kid with nothing else to offer the world except the blood he was willing to spill. And then, life moved on.

Something pressed against his wrist, and the teenager yanked it back quickly, clawing at the back of his neck with both hands as he pressed his forehead against his knees, trembling as he tried blocking out all of them. Tried blocking out the tormented and lost souls swallowing him. He clawed again at the back of his neck, pressing his head between his sweaty arms as he rocked on his heels.

Something wet splashed against his joggers, barely noticeable against the heat plaguing him as the 17-year-old coughed. He clenched his arms over his ears as he realized he was crying, hard. He felt sick, wrong, the ghost sense no longer going off because he had nothing else left to give. Tears sliding down overheated flesh, meshing against black cotton as loud pleas left his mouth, the taste of blood sitting on his tongue. Something grabbed his arm, and Danny choked, “Please go away. Please go away. Go away. Go away. Go away...”

His parents would be disappointed. His sister would be a wreck. If they knew. Knew he had killed himself years ago; that the innocence that he once had, was gone; eaten away by the things his parents aimed to hurt. Danny Fenton had surrounded himself in a hypocritical tranquility; believing nothing past the Ghost Zone yet praying to God every night that there was a way out, a way away from himself, from Phantom. Because despite the good he’d done, bad followed him further, bathing his body in the blood of those around him. Sam’s screams, her tears, the fear she felt as Danny shred the last remaining hope of becoming more than the ghost killing him.

Some people deserved to die, and yet, he was the exception. An unkillable thing because the Accident had done that for him; and no amount of pills, cuts, stupid mistakes, or blood could take that from him. A cosmic joke of isolated soulless bullshit. The 17-year-old dug his nails harder into the back of his neck, coughing on the blood in the back of his throat as it smeared further down his chin. Tears mixed with the monster he’d become, crushing his heart as the reality of himself, the fact that no amount of water could wash away the pain he’d caused others, was coated in blood on halfa hands. An unholy thing.

Someone laughed, and Danny flinched, digging harder as something sticky coated his fingertips. The spirits were louder, yelling for him, scratching his skin as they tried forcing him to look; to look at their pain, to look at what had happened to them, at what he had done to them. The 17-year-old gagged as the scent of blood, dirt, and rotting flesh overpowered him. This was his fault. Their lives. Their souls. Death had collected those around him, pulling their individualities from themselves as the teenager tried to hang onto his. Danny was drowning in death, spirits shredding him, ghosts pulling him apart molecule-by-molecule as he constructed more damage than his parents ever could.

Air fell between his lips as his lungs refused to take any more. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed his friends, his family- but they didn’t need him. They needed Phantom. Leaving Fenton as nothing more than a liability, a liar with cops and parents, a part-time substance abuser as he tried killing what everyone needed. Danny refused to move, pressing his body as hard as he could against the wall as spirits crowded him, ripping skin from his body, screaming for him to look at the damage around him, the lives he had taken.

The grip tightened on his arm, clawing at bruised skin as his world morphed and the ground hovered below him. He was pulled up, his body slamming against the spirits pulling towards him, no longer able to cooperate himself. He gagged loudly as he forced his eyes open, meeting the upside-down bloodied split face of the man in coveralls, an elderly woman praying in the corner, the back of her head blown off revealing dark grey matter.

Danny heaved as some of the grey matter fell from the woman’s white hair to her rosary, liquid meshing against him as the man in coveralls slapped another man, his head decapitating slightly, spewing blood across his vision. The teenager groaned as he glanced towards a German couple screaming at each other in the hall, the wall moving as hot fingers braced against the memories etched in the wood paneling and ugly wallpaper. He whimpered as he locked eyes with a small boy reading in the corner; the boy glanced up from his book and waved towards Danny as the 17-year-old wheezed.

Words passed his ears, muttered and useless as the pleas continued to pierce his mind. Red tears of pain he’d caused, spirits forcing him to look; their bodies distorted and warped as they screamed for the souls he had taken. The ones that had left him, a bloody and tormented ending of human life. His death was coming fast, Danny knew. He could feel it. A sudden drop-off from connection, any humanity left, falling moment-by-moment, a punctuating ending happening so involuntary fast as those would soon realize the monster he had become; realize the death he had collected. Danny retched weakly as the man in coveralls forced his head together, pain screaming from his mouth as lips that no longer wanted to meet, met, and hatred ate away at his features before the heat that fell from the 17-year-old washed over them, their bodies disappearing in the flames.

Danny gagged as the smell of menthol and stale sweat filled his nostrils, his head falling back further as a heartbeat echoed around him. Sweat trailing upward as blood fell back down in a disheveled passion, choking any air left, and the teenager’s body gave out. His eyes connected with the flames engulfing the man in coveralls, his disgust bleeding from his eyes as his face separated again before he disappeared in the fire. Danny whispered, “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save anyone…”

His vision failed as he continued floating through those he couldn’t protect… and death swallowed what was left.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Danny had fallen asleep, and relief settled across Lancer’s features as he took another slow sip of his tea, leaning further back in the couch. The teenager had been pretty quiet, but his looks and constant moving had become a distraction to the older man as he tried re-reading Pride and Prejudice. It’d been a long time since there’d been a kid in his home, and Lancer had forgotten how annoying they could be despite wrangling them during class as he desperately tried to pour some type of education into his students.

Lancer set his book down, glancing towards the television as the weatherman showed another map of the storm outside, the pictures flashing silently across the screen as Lancer hit mute. He sighed as rain began to pelt against the roof, the shutters on his windows slamming against the old brick harshly, and thunder echoing around a few other houses in the neighborhood as wind threatened to tear down the old house. It was going to be a long night if the storm kept up and the damage was probably going to cost him a fortune considering his salary wasn’t worth a lot these days.

The teenager coughed, and Lancer turned to see the kid curled at the other end of the couch. His head resting on the armrest at an awkward angle, his knees drawn to his chest as he refused to take any more space than needed, as he tried to force as much distance between himself and his teacher as possible. He shivered slightly, and Lancer wondered whether he should have told his charge to take the guestroom or given him a blanket… or checked for fever. After all, the 17-year-old had been trying to convince the teacher he was fine over the last few hours, but something about him, something about his demeanor told Lancer otherwise.

Lancer sighed again, setting his mug on the coffee table, eyeing the pile of books crammed into the rickety wooden shelf as it slanted forward. He needed to fix it, to buy another one before it fell, or before the weight of the books forced it down. He swallowed loudly as his eyes met the ripped, yellowed copy of Catcher in the Rye, dust coating it as it lay on the top shelf, untouched and abandoned for years. Despite all the books Lancer had reread, all the books he spent his nights enveloped in, that one, that book, he refused to touch… refused to move, to think about, to reread. Memories sat in its pages, crushed between folded pieces of paper from being read over and over, and that was something Lancer didn’t want to revisit, to think about, to remember.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, and the English teacher leaned back again, pulling his book from his lap once more, opening to the page he’d left off on. Considering it was closing in on midnight, Lancer debated heading to bed, but he hadn’t reread Jane Austen in a while. And besides, with the storm raging outside, and a kid he would feel guilty about waking, the older man considered waiting to see if he would need to dig the flashlights from the back of his silverware drawer before making any further decisions.

The ceiling fan sputtered slightly as the lights flickered, and Lancer grit his teeth as the teenager shivered again, his teeth chattered momentarily. Lancer sighed. The situation was uncomfortable needless to say; but Lancer had been a teacher and dad long enough to know that kids were good at hiding things… especially Daniel as he always had some excuse for his tardiness, his absences… his injuries. And a simple cold could turn quickly because most of the students at Casper High were walking petri dishes. Besides, Lancer and Danny’s parents agreed it was best, if the teenager were to become ill, to be surrounded by someone who could look after him or take responsibility for him if he were taken to the hospital seeing as he was still a minor and given the circumstances.

So yeah, the situation was uncomfortable; and Lancer knew that pissed Danny off. But the Fenton’s had gone with Jasmine to visit several Universities, refusing to let their only daughter attend if they couldn’t ensure the campuses were safe from ghosts. An amusing and almost stupid idea but considering Amity Park had seen its fair share of ghosts, not ridiculous. Besides Lancer could understand the Fenton’s concern, their protectiveness over their children as he once had felt it too. He knew what it was like to want to hide your kids from the evil in the world… to protect them, to hurt anything that hurt them, to give them everything. But that was gone now.

The lights flickered again as the screen door slammed against the side of the house. Wind howling outside as the news channel flashed a weather advisory warning across the screen, and Lancer exhaled, setting his book down, and leaning further against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. It’d been a long day… like most. Lancer spent a good portion of his time trying to keep a classroom of 17-year-olds from laughing over the cringing dramaticism of The Mysteries of Udolpho. Considering most of the books he taught were classic romanticism or gothic, the English teacher understood he was faced with a level of immaturity from his students. After all, it was hard for 17-year-olds to fully grasp the concept of metaphorical and real monsters of society.

The other portion of his day was spent grading poorly written essays over whatever topic he had sought to assign his students for the week. Honestly, Lancer had come to the conclusion that the only capable student in his class, after Jasmine Fenton had graduated two years prior, was Tucker Foley. If only his intelligence would rub off on Daniel, Lancer would have very little to worry about. Clearly, the teenager was capable of decent grades as Lancer had always been surprised when Fenton passed an exam or book report. But he seemed more concerned in his peers, in his life outside academics, to give his grades the attention they needed. He wasn’t stupid, Lancer knew that… and considering he came from a family thriving on higher IQ’s than half the city, the English teacher was sure that if Danny put even a little effort in his studies, he’d have no problem climbing to number one in his graduating class just as Jazz had.

But Jasmine Fenton had been competitive; aiming for greatness through academics and challenging those who threatened her perfect GPA. Daniel, however, competed with his teachers, refusing their help as he challenged them, challenged Lancer on a daily basis. Danny’s comments and cockiness had become a problem in his classroom; his antics or clownishness, difficult, as he proved how very little he cared about his grades. And despite his attitude problem, the older man was almost certain the teenager suffered from ADHD, which would explain his inability to focus most of the time and his forgetfulness.

Today had been no different. And Lancer had given the 17-year-old several chances to correct his behavior, letting his less-than-quiet remarks slide under the radar as he continued teaching. But with the constant bickering between him and Tucker, the annoyed whispers from Sam, falling from his seat twice, and the inability to explain what page the class was even reading from, Lancer had had enough. He’d tried to push back, pointing his ruler in Daniel’s direction and explaining there was an idiot at the end of it; but this resulted in the teenager’s sarcastic question of which end? After the laughter had died down, Lancer retorted that the 17-year-old could find out in detention.

Normally, detention was Lancer’s chance to unwind; to bask in the quiet as he encouraged his students to take the time to go over their studies. But today had been different. Not only had the lights gone out more than twice during his 3-hour prison sentence, but Danny had seemed different than earlier that day. Distracted, his eyes out of focus, shivering, and his quiet, slumped demeanor. Usually, the 17-year-old was pouting, refusing to do any real work, or trying to rally those who shared detention with him. But today he just sat there, quietly tracing some type of drawing on his textbook with his finger, his head resting against his desk.

Lancer had let it go for a while… after all, it was beginning to become obvious something was wrong. But into the 2nd hour, the complete lack of motivation, had become annoying, eating away at the older man’s patience. The other students in the classroom had taken Danny’s character as an invitation to abandon their own work for better things such as texting, making paper planes, or horseplay. Through the 17-year-old’s melodramatic and pitiful attitude, Lancer was losing control of his classroom. That had been when things had taken a turn, going from long to endless.

The older man had risen, scowling the other students into compliance as he made his way towards the cause of his current problem. Lancer scoffed when the teenager didn’t even bother reacting to his presence, but continued tracing over the outline of Thomas Jefferson on his torn-up history textbook. And it hadn’t been until Lancer had slammed his copy of Northanger Abbey on the 17-year-old’s desk that Danny reacted.

He jumped, flinging his book from the desk as he jerked towards Lancer, a look of horror crossing his face as he straightened slightly. The older man crossed his arms, a stern look casted down as he raised an eyebrow while the teenager scrambled to grab his textbook from the floor, flipping to a random chapter. Lancer stood there for several minutes, ensuring Daniel was at least pretending to read the words in front of him, and to enforce his authority as the superior in the classroom to his other students. This didn’t last long.

Once he had situated himself back at his desk, opening his book to the last page he’d read, Danny had raised his hand. Lancer raised his head towards his pupil but ignored him and continued reading. After a few minutes, the teenager put his hand down but forced it in the air a few moments later. Again, the English teacher refused to acknowledge his student’s attempt to leave detention. Normally, Danny would give up and ride out the rest of his punishment, partially compliant. Lancer had learned this during the kid’s Sophomore year; refusing to acknowledge or give the teenager permission for whatever excuse he had, was the only way to ensure he completed detention without further incident.

Lancer watched from his peripheral as the 17-year-old dropped his hand, sighing loudly as he continued scanning the words in his barely passible history book; Lancer smiled slightly. Some quiet had passed, relaxing the mood in the room as the older man felt himself beginning to unwind from the day once again. A few seconds later, however, there had been a noise, and the older man had glanced up to see Daniel rushing from the room, his book once again smacked against the tiled floor. The remaining students had jumped, conversing amongst themselves as their eyes watched the open-door slam against the wall.

Lancer grit his teeth, a scowl crossing his face as he calmly rose, placing his book on his desk before glaring towards the remaining students. They straightened, returning to their tasks as the older man exited the classroom, closing the door gently as he traced over the small indent in the wall from the door handle slamming against it. He shook his head as he glared back inside the classroom to his students watching him before looking busy as the wooden door clicked shut.

Out of all his antics, Danny had never defied Lancer enough to leave. And something in his gut told the English teacher this was either a new low from the teenager or an incident that needed attending to. Lancer had hoped all that was needed was a harsh conversation and another week of detention, but as he rounded the corner past the lockers, the root of the 17-year-old’s behavior became evident.

The older man closed his eyes briefly, sighing loudly as he ran a hand over his bald head and made his way towards the kid. Danny was hunched over one of the trashcans in the hallway, retching loudly as his arms trembled slightly, threatening to bring him down from his own weight. He had expected the unpleasant smell of half-digested food, but what Lancer hadn’t expected was the warmth radiating off the teenager as he reached out to grasp his shoulder. Both him, and the 17-year-old gasped, and Lancer stumbled back slightly as Danny pushed him away, slumping against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Danny had landed with a small smack, and he groaned as he eyed his teacher before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. He mumbled something that sounded like a half-assed apology as Lancer inspected his character. Pale, sweaty features set in a flushed undertone as pink ate at his cheekbones. The English teacher ran another hand over his head as he glanced towards his classroom, then back towards his pupil, before turning and advancing towards the class.

After explaining that he felt like cutting detention short due to the storm clouds forming outside, Lancer had gathered his belongings, slinging Danny’s tattered backpack over his shoulder as he crossed through the halls towards the teenager still slumped against the wall, pitifully. He knelt down, reaching a hand out to rouse the 17-year-old, his fingers brushing against his hairline as he made an attempt to check his temperature before the kid jumped. He grasped Lancer’s wrist, pulling it from him harshly, his fingers tight enough around his arm that the older man could feel Danny’s fingernails digging into his flesh.

The teenager’s eyes were locked on his English teacher; the warm blue turning cold and hard as a menacing look crossed his face. Lancer had opened his mouth to speak but closed it a second later as Danny tightened his grip. He’d been surprised by the amount of strength the kid possessed seeing as he always seemed lanky, awkward, and weak. And the threat crossing the 17-year-old’s face sent chills down Lancer’s spine as Danny blinked, releasing his grip before apologizing quickly.

The older man stilled, his eyes glancing over his student as the kid refused to make eye-contact with him. Lancer sighed, offering the teenager a ride home, only to find out that his parents had been out of town for the past few days and weren’t due back until later that evening. And after a very awkward but short conversation with the Fenton’s and finding out their flight had been cancelled due to the oncoming weather, Lancer was driving a pissed off teenager to his own house until his parents returned. Thus, claiming an uncomfortable situation which neither Daniel nor Lancer liked much. But the older man wasn’t a monster… and if a night of letting Danny occupy his guestroom until he was convinced the 17-year-old was fine was what it took, then the English teacher would bare through it.

Lancer sighed again, letting his mind drift as he felt his body relaxing, sleep creeping towards him. Outside, the wind ate away at the chimes and shutters surrounding the house, lightening sparking against powerlines as the lights wavered in and out. Thunder roared overhead, creating a low rumble through the old house as the imminent threat of a tornado loomed in the horizon. But silence engulfed the English teacher as the thought of just resting for a few minutes evaded his tired mind…

It hadn’t been the flinch that woke Lancer, but the loud crash of things falling. Panic clouded his mind as the thought of a tree crashing through the front windows washed over him as he jumped up, cursing loudly. He glanced towards the windows quickly to find them intact and instead turned his attention in front of him as another sound hit him. Heaving.

“Lord of the Flies!” Lancer remarked as he turned his attention towards the sound. The coffee table had been overturned, laying on its side, its belongings littering the floor. And the rickety bookshelf the older man had been wary of earlier, had fallen slightly; its shelves no longer apart of it as the books wedged between non-existent space had crashed to the floor, surrounding Danny as he struggled to breath.

Lancer made his way around the overturned table, crouching down next to the kid as he gagged again, vomit coating his sweatshirt, puddling on the floor below as sweat trickled down his temple. The older man put a steady hand on the teenager’s shoulder, running his hand between his shoulder blades as the muscles in the 17-year-old’s back spasmed between heaves. Lancer let out a slow breath, his voice low and calm, “Alright. It’s alright, Daniel. You’re alright, just get it up. It’s alright…”

The teenager tensed, breathing through his nose lowly as he spit foul-tasting salvia from his mouth, and concentrated on settling his stomach. He felt disgusting, sweaty and embarrassed. He could feel vomit squished between his fingers, and the fact that he had just emptied the contents of his stomach on his English teacher’s floor, mortifying. But considering he had forgotten he wasn’t home, and in attempt to seek out the bathroom, tripped over the coffee table, not only taking it and its belongings down, but falling against the bookshelf, bringing a pile of books crashing to the floor with him, was more humiliating than the acidic puddle in front of him.

Danny closed his eyes briefly, breathing slowly as he leaned back on his knees, scrapping a hand against his mouth and chin. He turned his head towards his teacher but refused to make eye contact because he was afraid of the expression on the older man’s face. The 17-year-old groaned inwardly, setting a hand on his stomach as he let the short silence pass over them; the television cutting off then flicking back on a second later.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Lancer asked softly as he glanced around at the state of his living room. Surely, the shelves or books had fallen on top of the kid when he fell, and given the state of the coffee table, Lancer was betting the kid had tripped over it or something. The splintered shelves could have cut him, or his foot could have gotten caught on the ledge, and injury wasn’t something the older man really wanted to add to his list of problems right now.

Danny was quiet for a while, making brief eye contact with Lancer before looking back towards the floor. He swallowed loudly against the hiccups forcing themselves up his throat and hunched his posture further. He looked downright miserable which didn’t help Lancer’s current situation. The 17-year-old swallowed again before muttering quietly, “Sorry, I’ll help you clean up… I’m sorry about all the mess.”

Lancer sighed, relief washing over him as the kid finally spoke. He ran a hand over his head as he bowed his head, trying to get the teenager to look him in the face, “That doesn’t answer my question, Mr. Fenton. Are you hurt?”

Danny froze for a few seconds before meeting the teacher’s gaze slowly. He shook his head, his body twitching slightly as hiccups still resonated through his chest. Lancer nodded, glancing over the kid quickly, looking for any visible injuries but finding none, and ran his hands over his knees before standing, exhaling loudly.

The wind howled outside, and the branches on the tree outside knocked against the window forcefully as Lancer glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall. It was around 2am, which answered two questions: Was he to be expected at school tomorrow and was he going to get any sleep tonight. The 17-year-old coughed gently, and the older man turned his attention back towards the teenager.

“Well,” Lancer started carefully, “Let’s get things cleaned up.”

Danny cast his gaze back towards the floor as he moved to pick up one of the books next to him. Lancer crouched down again, pulling the book from the kid’s grasp, “What are you doing, Daniel?’

The teenager glanced up slowly, “You said to clean-”

Lancer shook his head, cutting the kid off, “The state of my living room doesn’t concern me right now, Mr. Fenton. You, however, do. Despite what you and your friends may think of me, I’m not heartless.”

Danny’s expression shifted as the older man grasped the kid’s arm, pulling him to his feet. He put a hand on the teenager’s shoulder as he swayed slightly, an eyebrow raised as a silent question flashed across the teacher’s face. The 17-year-old swallowed and gave Lancer a weak nod before crossing his arms over his stomach gently, stepping around the chaos as he followed Lancer into the hallway.

He shivered harshly as his ghost sense went off, and his eyes danced over the photos nailed against the ugly wallpaper in the hallway. Pictures of family- of times no one at Casper High knew of; a different side of the English teacher never shown. Danny lingered on the photo of a young boy with blonde hair, a huge gap-toothed smile swallowing his face as he held his ice cream cone towards the photographer. Confusion crossed the teenager’s face as he glanced over some of the other photos, the blonde kid present in almost all of them… and a pretty woman in a few others, posing next to the kid. As far as everyone knew, Lancer didn’t have kids, and he wasn’t married.

His ghost sense went off again, and Danny shivered as he paused momentarily, the photos around him blurring together, spinning into a colorful mess as dizzying fatigue washed over him, his limbs shaking as they fought to bring him down. He made a slight noise as he glanced towards the end of the hall, towards a small boy hiding behind a half-closed door; his green eyes huge and alarmed as he watched the teenager. Danny swallowed, Lancer’s questions floating over him as the boy peered further out the door, motioning for the 17-year-old to follow.

The teenager made an attempt to move, the hallway spinning as the pictures on the wall melted together in an array of sickening colors, and Danny blinked slowly as several spirits began to crowd around him, blood forced from gruesome wounds. A sharp noise escaped his mouth as he glanced back towards the boy, only to find the doorway empty, the door fully open now. Chills washed over him as his knees gave out, and his ghost sense sparked again.

Someone grasped at him, a hand gripping his arm while another snaked over his torse, pulling him back on his feet. Black filtered through Danny’s vision momentarily as his body went limp before he groaned, looking towards his left as Lancer adjusted his grip on his torso, asking something Danny couldn’t grasp. The teenager’s feet dragged against the wooden floor as he struggled to gain his footing, but his legs felt clumsy and foreign. He felt like shit, weird, split into two, leaning heavily against his teacher as the older man led him slowly down the hall, towards the room that’d been previously occupied by a scared little boy.

The 17-year-old hadn’t realized he’d been deposited on a bed until everything stopped moving. The room swaying slightly but no longer spinning in a multitude of nauseating colors. Heat pressed against his body as he glanced over the side of the bed towards the boy he’d seen earlier, hiding behind the rocking chair in the corner. His eyes fixed on the teenager as cold air pushed past Danny’s lips, and he shivered again, turning towards the ceiling fan as his shoes were slipped off his feet, followed by his socks.

He groaned as Lancer pulled his hoodie over his head gently, forcing his arms from the sleeves, leaving him shivering against the warmth dotting against his skin. He was freezing. His ghost sense going off every few minutes, causing his body to ice, goosebumps breaking out over his arms as warmth rushed through him a second later. He blinked slowly, feeling something press against his forehead, and he squinted towards Lancer leaning over him.

“We need to get that fever down, Daniel,” He whispered, running his hands through the kid’s messy black hair. Danny groaned, tuning out his teacher’s movements as he turned back towards the boy hiding behind the chair, hoping that this was as worse as his night got…

……………………………………………………

Heat. Heat blistered against tired flesh and limbs that refused to move… and warmth. Warmth pressed against bruised flesh gently, killing the heat sweating against him, weighing him down in thick blankets. Warmth poured over him, comforting him, drowning the confusion and panic etched in his veins, and Danny suddenly found himself calling to his childhood memories.

“M-mom?” He whispered, his voice barely audible as it scratched past his throat, rough and raw. He swallowed harshly, trying to force his eyes open but finding the task difficult. His body felt heavy, weak, tired… he felt like he had gone several rounds with Skulker… or someone worse.

“Shh, don’t talk, Daniel,” Someone said softly, and Danny blinked slowly, squinting against the dim lights swaying next to him. He shivered as shadows danced around him, and he groaned loudly as he tried pushing himself up. Strong warm hands pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as any strength the teenager had, left him momentarily.

Warmth threatened to pull him under again, and Danny swallowed, his head lolling to his right as he forced his eyes to stay open against flickering, dancing lights. Something pressed against his temple, his cheek, his neck, dampening the fire momentarily wherever the warmth touched, lingering against his skin just long enough to cool the sweat clammed against his body.

Danny coughed harshly as he opened his eyes sluggishly, unaware he had closed them, and he glanced around disoriented, his neck aching from the little effort he put into turning it. His vision wavered slightly, and the 17-year-old groaned as he made another feeble attempt to move only to be stilled by calm hands.

“Just relax, Daniel. Otherwise, I might be obliged to add to your weeks’ worth of detention,” Someone chuckled softly, and Danny forced his eyes open again, “Mr. L’ncer?”

The 17-year-old winced as his voice met his ears, weak and small; the syllables barely leaving his mouth as his tongue felt heavy against his teeth. He swallowed, his mouth feeling cottony and thick as his eyes lazily met his English teacher’s face hovering above him; a stern expression settled on tired features.

The teenager groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly as the room began to spin, leaning his head back as he listened to the silence surrounding him. A quiet popping echoing around him, and Danny squinted, noticing several candles sitting on the counter and next to him, their flames flickering wildly. Confusion crossed his face as Lancer leaned further over him, “The power went out a while ago, so I had to improvise as I couldn’t find any batteries for the flashlight.”

The older man held up the flashlight, shaking it gently as confusion continued to sit on the 17-year-old’s face. He blinked slowly as he tried to piece together everything. But it was hot. And he felt weird, sick, his mind a muddled mess of exhaustion; his headache still pounding behind his eyes. He tried moving again, sitting up slightly before being pushed back down gently as Lancer sighed, “I swear, Mr. Fenton, do you ever listen?”

Danny swallowed, doing his best to understand his surroundings. He sighed loudly, letting his head fall behind him as he slowly connected the dots. He was in a bathroom. More importantly, he was lying in a warm bath, shivering against the heat beaded on his skin. And more embarrassingly, Lancer was soaking washcloths in the water, pressing them against his face, wiping down the sweat that was forming on Danny’s body. It took him longer than he liked to realize his shirt was gone, gentle fingers pressing lightly against his torso, covering every inch of heat that surrounded the bruised and scarred flesh. Whether or not he was wearing further clothing wasn’t something Danny tried to think about, and if he had the energy, he would have protested this level of comfort. This level of embarrassment. This level of weakness. But he felt too tired, too sick, and too hot to care.

Something moved in his peripheral, and Danny peered at the end of the tub to find the boy from earlier sitting on the edge, his gaze still watching the teenager. He bent down slightly, his blonde hair covering his face as he touched the water before jerking his hand back and shivering. Warmth hit him as Lancer washed over his chest, and the 17-year-old squinted, his eyes still watching the boy, refusing to let his exhaustion overpower him.

The boy disappeared momentarily before returning to his spot at the edge of the bathtub, a rubber duck in his hand. He set it in the water gently, pushing it in Danny’s direction before smiling widely, his two front teeth gapped, three missing from the bottom. The 17-year-old stirred, pressing against Lancer’s hands as his eyebrows furrowed together, and he yelled, “Hey!”

The boy jumped from the ledge, fear setting on his face as Danny struggled against his teacher’s grasp. His ghost sense went off, goosebumps breaking out over his naked skin as the boy disappeared, and the teenager let out a strangled cry as he shoved Lancer’s hands away, leaning over the edge, water splashing to the floor as he scanned the hallway for the boy. The 17-year-old gripped the slippery ledge of the tub as he scrambled to pull himself up, water slapping against the ground loudly.

Lancer gripped the kid’s shoulders, forcing him back down as alarm crossed his face. He held the teenager down as the candles flickered, water soaking into his khakis as the 17-year-old continued to thrash. The older man let out a quick breath as he tried grabbing the kid’s attention, “Daniel! Danny!”

The teenager stilled, his gaze moving from the hallway towards his teacher as his nickname left Lancer’s mouth. The older man sighed softly as he felt the kid’s body relax, his grip loosening on the bathtub as the teacher eased him back down. The alarm that crossed Danny’s face earlier, vanishing as confusion set in, his head smacking once again against the back of the bathtub as exhaustion ate away at his features.

He exhaled loudly as Lancer pressed a washcloth against his forehead, leaving it there for several minutes before repeating the action. Danny swallowed softly, closing his eyes against the dimly-lit room as his teacher cleared his throat, “I’m sorry about the circumstances, Daniel. But your temperature spiked again causing you to pass out, and I had no other way of bringing it down quicker. I know it’s uncomfortable. My son freaked too.”

Danny turned towards his teacher’s voice but kept his eyes closed as his mind spun violently. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the information, as he tried to recall the pictures on the wall in the hallway. He coughed, sweat dripping from his hair plastered against his face, “The kid…”

“In the photos. Yeah,” Lancer sighed, wiping across the teenager’s chest again before pressing another rag against his forehead, “He passed some time ago… a car accident.”

The 17-year-old’s eyes opened slightly as he met his teacher’s sad smile before his focus lazily danced towards the hallway. The boy stood there, leaning against the doorway as he fumbled with the zipper on the bottom of his blue jacket, worry flashing across his face as he met Danny’s gaze. The teenager swallowed again, closing his eyes as he turned his head away from the door, sweat rolling down his cheeks as it dripped from his chin.

“Hey…” He muttered softly as he tried calling the boy closer, as he tried to connect the dots. He felt like shit. Even after being extremely sick after the Accident, he didn’t remember it feeling like this. Then again, that had been 3 years ago… and Danny hadn’t really been sick since. But maybe that had to do more with Phantom. Maybe he’d left… leaving the 17-year-old as a barely alive thing. Maybe this was his immune system dying, the other half giving out as it had struggled to survive with half function over the years. Maybe this was the portal killing the other part of him, claiming what it had started.

Danny’s teeth chattered loudly as he shivered against the warmth, “I shou-should call my parents…”

“I assure you they’re fine, Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said calmly, rewetting a washcloth and pressing it against the teenager’s neck, “They’re just concerned, trying to find a quicker way back to New York… unfortunately, the storm is making that difficult.”

The 17-year-old swallowed slowly, confusion washing over him before swallowing again. He coughed, his throat raw and his mouth dry like sandpaper, feeling his mind slipping, the reality he could understand becoming harder and harder to grasp. Everything was muddled, fuzzy, hard to comprehend.

“I- I should call them,” He muttered softly, “Apologize for killing myself… they’re going to be-be so- disappointed in me…”

Lancer froze, alarm flooding through him as he choked. He watched the confusion on Danny’s face melt, his features relaxing slightly as moments passed. The older man turned the teenager’s face towards him, shaking his shoulder gently as he let out a sharp breath, “What? Mr. Fenton- what! What does that mean? Daniel? Daniel- Danny!”

The kid whimpered but other than that, showed no sign that he had even heard Lancer’s questions. The English teacher took a few slow breaths, closing his eyes as he forced the panic back down. Perhaps he had misheard… or the 17-year-old’s temperature was getting to him. Hallucinations and muddled speech were common, so perhaps, that’s all it was. Thoughts of a delusional and feverish mind.

Then again, Danny’s attitude had shifted over the years as he still maintained his cocky and sarcastic demeanor… but darker things lurked over him. Lancer knew the kid smoked from time-to-time, and he had heard from a few rumors that Fenton had become no stranger to weed or alcohol. Then again, the aspect of rebellion was fairly common in teenagers, and Lancer couldn’t see the Fenton’s letting their son get away with anything too serious. But perhaps they didn’t know… perhaps they didn’t know about their son’s newer habits. Or the fights. The grades. The attitude problem. The bruises or scars. Perhaps Danny was hiding his true self from them just as he was from his peers.

But it wasn’t Lancer’s place. Not exactly. Sure, he cared for the kid, as he did for many of his pupils. But Jack and Maddie had become neighborly to him after the loss of his son, and the divorce. They expected Lancer to keep Jasmine and Daniel on the straight-and-narrow when they entered high school… which Jazz was no problem… but Danny. Danny was a different story.

Every direction Lancer took, the 17-year-old steered in the opposite direction. And it seemed even worse the last couple of months. Lancer knew something had happened between Fenton and Manson… and Danny seemed really broken up about it. After all, he had overheard Foley’s comment that the two had begun dating… among other things. And rumors were they’d been caught in the Janitor’s closet several weeks prior… But for the past few months, both Danny and Sam could barely sit next to each other, let alone look at each other. And most of the flirting Lancer had come to expect from the two, was replaced with cold stares, harsh short comments, and feeble excuses as to why they couldn’t work together.

Something sounded behind him, and the English teacher jerked, turning his head quickly towards the hall, squinting against the flame’s shadow dancing over the dark doorway. He scanned the empty area before closing his eyes briefly, breathing slowly through his nose, allowing his thoughts to calm as thunder roared overhead. Most nights Lancer could swear his house was haunted. Haunted by the memories of his past, the memories of his wife, his son… the life he missed every day. But that was ridiculous. An idealization deluded from the minds of Jack and Maddie Fenton… and nothing more.

The lights flicked several times as one of the lightbulbs above the bathroom counter popped, before burning out. The TV in the living room spluttering to life, news blasted through old speakers loudly before silence and darkness once again evaded the small house. Lancer sighed, running a hand over his head, listening to the rain pelt against the roof. Despite it being close to 10am, the storm hadn’t ceased… in fact, it seemed worse with every passing hour which was ironically befitting given Lancer’s current situation, and Danny’s condition.

The English teacher sighed loudly, wringing another washcloth out before pressing gently against the teenager’s forehead, cheeks, and neck as lightening cracked against the house. The 17-year-old whimpered softly, his eyebrows drawing together momentarily before Lancer shushed him, forcing another rag against his forehead lightly. Despite trying his best to bring the kid’s fever down, the older man was more than certain he was doing little to cause a significant change in the teenager’s temperature. Or at least it felt like that.

When the 17-year-old had passed out in the hallway, collapsing against Lancer the second he was pulled from the floor, going limp in his arms as the older man tried his best to hold Danny as gently as he could, Lancer had been at a loss. But when the lights spazzed, the shutter door slamming against the entryway and the power gave out, Lancer was close to both panicked tears and self-consumed anger.

He’d been angry over the situation. Over the power going out, the storm wreaking havoc outside and forcing flights to ground. Angry with his own useless attempts to soothe the teenager he thought he could care for. Angry he hadn’t taken Danny to the Emergency Room earlier and angry, that in spite of everything, the teenager seemed to be getting worse rather than better. Panic had eaten away worry and concern, leaving fear racing through thoughts riddled with questions; his own parental instincts, despite having died long ago, blaring as every sound, every cough, every whimper, and every unconscious groan that whispered from the 17-year-old’s mouth, sent Lancer’s senses on high alert.

Something that had scared Lancer more than he could account for was the fact that the 17-year-old was crying, hard, and his temperature. The moment he was near, the heat melting off Danny was deeply concerning, sweat plastered down pale flesh, dripping in puddles down his face and soaked through hand-me-down clothes Lancer had given him earlier. The teenager had been on the verge of hyperventilating when Lancer pressed his hand against his forehead, worry and panic lacing his tired mind as Danny cried harder, pleading with fevered hallucinations to leave and forgive him.

The thought of which was worse, the storm or Danny’s illness, no longer a debate but a firm decided answer that should have been sought long ago. But Lancer wasn’t sure if he would be able to find his keys in the dark, the rain pounding sideways against the windows as it threatened to break glass… and even though it was early morning now, the sun having rose two hours prior, it was still black as hell outside. Lancer’s own attempts to calm the teenager were futile. He was out of his element… so beyond his own familiarity, and he had forgotten how to soothe his own child. Lancer needed help, he needed another adult, and Danny needed a parent, but the older man hadn’t been a parent in a long time…

…………………………………………………………………………………….

He wasn’t a hero. Because a hero wouldn’t do this. A hero couldn’t. And Danny Fenton was no hero. He’d shed blood through Phantom hands, ghosted in hellish torment as he sat, throne to bodies and souls collected at his feet. Human hands forever red with mortal lives, halfa instincts more dead than alive as Fenton became a facade for Phantom. A mask. A plaything. A puppet of normality and bitter resentment as Phantom was forced to live in a barely alive flesh suit. And now, only now, was the teenager hit with the realization that he was no hero. He’d never been.

He’d been a boy. Stupid and ignorant in childish idealization, playing make-believe, costumed in his parent’s clothes, pretending to be something more. Something better. But he wasn’t. He was joke. A harsh cosmic occurrence of puny humanity and preemptive temperament of selfish actions. Cocooned in the tranquility of his youth as he tried to convince himself that he was more than the blood dripping from halfa hands, that he was the savior of death instead of the bringer. But he’d been stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Insignificant. A joke.

Danny Fenton was a joke of unlovable fear and horrible outcomes. Death followed him. Shadowed by terrible posture and cold features. Sam had fallen for the wrong boy. Had loved the wrong boy. Fenton wasn’t a hero. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save her… fuck, he couldn’t save anyone. He was just a stupid kid with stupid luck. A false identity born to humanity, mirrored from the reality of Phantom, a messenger, a front for what had killed him years ago. Fake bravery. Fake chivalry. Everything fake.

Ectoplasm oozed down his temple, sliding past his left cheekbone, gathering at his chin as sweat and dirt fell past, splattering against ashen snow and green puddles of forgotten souls. Blood pooling from open wounds, forced between busted knuckles and broken fingers as red stained white. Danny choked, his fingers pressing tighter across Sam’s neck as blood gushed from wounds he couldn’t close… from a death he couldn’t stop. From a love he couldn’t lose.

The purple haloed around Sam no longer vibrant or visible through dark crimson, eaten away by the innocence of her youth, and the immorality dripping from Danny. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a good guy… and Phantom? Phantom couldn’t save her. Phantom couldn’t save anyone. Ever. But Phantom wouldn’t have done this… he couldn’t. Fenton had.

Fingers slipping from flesh, Sam’s necklace pulled from her neck as Danny fought for a better grip, forcing the broken bones in his right hand to bend, to curve, to keep blood from puddling around him… to fix this. But he couldn’t. There wasn’t a way to fix it. A way to fix death. To restore what was lost. What he had taken. What he had always taken. Over and over and over again.

And now, because he wasn’t willing to live without Phantom, Fenton had destroyed the one thing he loved more than anything. The one girl he loved more than anyone. The one girl willing to fight for him instead of Phantom. But that had been a mistake. Sam loving him had been a mistake. He and Sam had been a mistake. An intimate beautiful mistake.

Danny wasn’t the same person she’d fallen in love with. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. He was different. Darker. Quieter. Colder. He was awkward in his own shadow, uncomfortable in a foreign skin as he allowed Phantom more and more control. Danny Fenton was a waste. Danny Phantom wasn’t. He was the thing people needed. But Phantom wasn’t the one Sam had loved. He wasn’t the one she trusted. He wasn’t the one she tried so desperately to save… He wasn’t the one who had killed her.

The fight was over the second it’d begun. Box Ghost had slipped through the Ghost Zone, followed by Skulker and Johnny; the three musketeers of complete failure as they threatened to destroy the state of New York. But Danny had barely broken a sweat. Ghosts were easier now; less challenging than in his youth, repetitive and old, and most of the time, the teenager had bigger things to worry about. Like Spirits. The Veil. The Spirit World. And Vlad. There was always Vlad fucking Masters. A pain in the Fenton family ass… not that Jack would ever admit it.

Snow had started littering the ground in heavy flurries by the time Vlad appeared. Danny had sat on the park bench for hours, waiting for the stupid pointy-haired bastard to make an appearance; after all, Danny had gotten his message the night before when he was pulled into the Veil. He always got the message while in the Veil. He wasn’t welcome. He was never welcomed. And the Spirits collected within made sure he knew it, made sure he stayed long enough to understand the damage he had caused, the lives he had fucked, and the lives he had taken. Many in the Spirit World knew him, but he knew very little about them.

Despite knowing almost everything about the Ghost Zone, the teenager knew almost nothing about the Spirit World. About summoning. The Veil. The Spirits. He only knew how to tune them out, but the older he got, the more his power grew, the harder it was to keep them in check. Too many times had he been caught in public, or with his parents, or his sister, talking, ranting, yelling or even fighting Spirits that refused to leave. He couldn’t block them out. Their voices, cries in the dark, hands pulled through murky water towards his body as he dreamed, screams echoed through restless thoughts. They were getting harder to ignore… harder to kill.

Drugs didn’t really work anymore, barely a dull buzz of quiet whispers, and other outlets were laughable options. Weed made it hard to focus between Fenton and Phantom, his abilities harder to control… and the Spirits had barely left. Ecstasy was great, the screams a distant thought, the Spirits warping into smokes of green, yellow and red; but Phantom disappeared too, refusing to appear for several days after. And Acid… Acid just made the teenager more jittery, more paranoid, more on-edge than he already was.

Vlad had taught him a few tricks to keep the Spirits quiet enough to function before he died. He’d promised to teach Danny more, but his death made that almost impossible. Unlike the Ghost Zone, the Spirit World lacked a supernatural possession; rather turning anyone such as Vlad, normal and human- barely able to summon Danny through the Veil to talk. And Danny? Danny’s powers were pretty much useless inside the Veil, humanity coursed through fragile bones, muscle, and skin as blood beat through a half-alive thing. The teenager could barely summon, barely survive a night in the Veil, of being pulled through, forced out-of-body through airless lungs and the stillness of a barely beating heart.

In the Spirit World, the teenager was human. So very human. And so very vulnerable. A War progressed through the Veil, the Spirits capable of darker, more sinister realities than Ghosts such as Skulker or Freakshow could ever procure. A world of Death. True Death. The promises of the Ghost Zone vanquished through shreds of paper-thin souls of victims to the War. Death in the Spirit World meant no Ghost Zone after. No other World beyond. No connection or tie back to humanity. To the Human World. Nothing. Just black. Just…

The 17-year-old’s ghost sense had been going off for hours; his teeth chattering as he pulled the thin green jacket closer, cursing Vlad for taking his sweet time. To any untrained individual, the teenager appeared to be alone… but Danny was never alone. Not anymore. His shove through the Veil on his 16th had killed any isolation or solitude he had. They were always there. Always watching. Always with him.

The teenager grit his teeth as he smacked his head against the bench behind him, staring towards the grey sky as white dust fell in clumps, blanketing Amity Park… and most likely, the rest of New York. The weather had been unpredictable lately; a chaotic shitshow of indescribable patterns, something his father chalked up to some weird readings in the Ghost Zone. Despite never really seeing a ghost, his parents still obsessed over them, inching closer and closer to diving into the portal with each passing week. But Danny, Danny wished he’d never have to see another fucking ghost in his life.

More and more of the transparent bastards had been slipping through the portal lately. Part of that was Danny’s fault. The other, unknown. Valerie had helped pick up the slack, along with the Fenton Duo, but the teenager had more important things to worry about like Spirits. The harder they were to ignore, the more of them appeared… and they could touch him. Hurt him. Kill him… the scars plastered against his right ribs should be evident enough to speak to their danger. He’d barely survived his first trip through the Veil, and Vlad kept pulling him fucking through… mainly because summoning wasn’t something the 17-year-old had mastered yet. And with Vlad dead, Danny doubted if he’d ever actually be able to master summoning… leaving no hope for resurrection.

Something kicked against the teenager’s red converse, and Danny shot up quickly, expecting Vlad to be standing over him. A smile crawled across his face as his eyes met Sam, her black hoodie blowing viciously against the winter air, small specks of white clinging to the fabric. She kicked his foot again, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Danny smirked, forcing his hands in his pocket, his right hand clamped around the red lighter he had stolen from his dad’s secret stash. Whether or not Jack Fenton had noticed a few of his smokes were missing, the teenager would never know. After all, if his father ended up confronting him about it, then that meant Jack would also have to come clean to Maddie about smoking… something he supposedly gave up a few years after Danny was born.

Sam slumped down next to him, her shoulder hitting his as Danny turned towards her, smiling. Sam rolled her eyes, her purple lipstick twisting into a grin as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She sighed, “So, I take it Vlad hasn’t shown?”

The 17-year-old shook his head, before clearing his throat, “No.”

“That’s pretty unusual for him, isn’t it?” She asked, pulling her head up as wind forced her hood down, short black hair flying chaotically. She glanced in Danny’s direction as he flicked some snow off his jeans. He hadn’t really thought about Vald’s behavior- about his pretty punctual habits, but now that it was mentioned, it was rather worrisome the older man hadn’t shown yet. Especially given he seemed rather paranoid the night before. But surely, the older man would have said if he was in danger.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, meeting Sam’s gaze, biting his bottom lip. Pieces of ice clung to her hair, freckled across her face, and the 17-year-old hesitated, before brushing his thumb across her cheek carefully, wiping away some of the fallen snow. He paused, his fingers pressing gently against her jawline, following the curve softly before Sam pressed her hand over his. Danny froze, warmth flooding his face as he refused to advert his gaze.

Sam had been weird lately. She’d been acting weird… almost feminine… which was weird for both Tucker and Danny as they had always seen her as one of the guys. But between a few awkward non-date dates, a few fake-out make-outs, and being caught half-naked in the Janitor’s Closet a few weeks prior when Danny had phased through the wrong room after a fight; Danny was finding it harder to act normal around her. And then there was the Annual Winter Dance last month which neither Sam nor Danny refused to acknowledge, involving some sloppy drinking, heated kissing, and one awkward morning after at the Fenton household as Danny tried sneaking Sam from his room only to be caught by his sister.

Since then, Sam had become more… Well, it was hard to explain because Danny was pretty sure he’d become more of it too. Every moment he was around her, it seemed like he had reverted back to his weird, awkward, clumsy demeanor. He couldn’t talk around her anymore, let alone act normal anymore. His ghost sense unpredictable, his powers uncontrollable as his body forgot how to be him around her. He couldn’t eat or sleep and paying what little attention he normally did in class, unbearable. He couldn’t get Sam out of his head. Her purple lipstick. Her laugh. Her hands clasped around his. Her mouth… Her. And it was driving him insane.

Mentioning it to anyone was out of the question. Tucker had them married in 9th grade. His parents were too hyperactive and weird to be able to deal with their only son dating- let alone his sister’s recollection of her very awkward first date that involved more of Jack Fenton than Danny wanted to picture. And Jazz? Jazz had freaked when she had caught Danny and Sam together the morning after the Annual Winter Dance, forcing both teenagers to attend a lecture involving responsible actions, so asking Jazz for advice was out of the question. Honestly, Danny had found some console in Vlad, but that bastard’s advice was wishy-washy and outdated.

Sam’s fingers brushed over the rough scars on his hand before she trailed up his arm. Her hand hesitating on his shoulder before cupping the back of his neck, her fingers tussling his hair softly. The wind whooshed past, snow raining over them as Sam met the 17-year-old’s gaze, a small smirk painted across purple lips. Danny shivered slightly, brushing his thumb over her cheek again, “I-”

“Shut up,” Sam cut him off, pulling herself from the bench as she pressed her lips against his, pushing the 17-year-old back slowly as he dropped his hand from her cheek, trailing down her shoulder slowly, arm, back. He inhaled loudly, a hand pressed against the small of Sam’s back, the other pressing her closer to him as she kissed him again, one of her hand’s slipping underneath his shirt. Cold fingers pressed against the warmth on his back. Black nails scrapping gently over scarred flesh, fingers through black hair, and Danny’s hands dragging her closer. Sam was driving him insane… but maybe this time, they could acknowledge it… maybe this time, he could tell her how he really felt.

Maybe this time he could tell her he couldn’t get her out of his mind. That he couldn’t concentrate around her, he couldn’t get that night at the dance out of his mind… that she made everything better, made everything okay. He needed her like he needed air. She was a reminder that he was still alive, that he was still human, that he was still more than Phantom. Because she seemed to want him more than Phantom… She liked him. Not Phantom. And that- that was all Danny ever wanted from someone. From her…

Her nails scrapped harder against his back as Sam straddled him; her hair flying in the wind, covering her face, smacking against Danny’s face comfortingly. His hands gentle as they trailed down the rest of her back, her thighs, holding her steady against him. Her lips forceful against his, nails marked against skin, her heart pounding against his. She breathed deeply, “Danny…”

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Someone sneered. Danny pushed Sam off him gently, jumping to his feet as he pressed Sam behind him, his stance protective as he met the stranger’s gaze. The 17-year-old watched as a woman stepped forward, a smirk on her face as she pushed some of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She eyed the 17-year-old, sizing him up as she walked around the small bench. She scoffed, “They said the halfa was young, but I never would have thought this young… Tell me, handsome, do you even know how to tie your own shoes?”

Danny tensed, “Do you want to find out?”

The woman laughed loudly, circling them once more before standing a few feet from him, “Oh, and that wit. I bet you’re a troublemaker, uh?”

She crossed her arms, straightening her posture until she was eyelevel with him. Her skin almost translucent against the white ground, blood dotting against her neck where a necklace should have been. Her bright pink and blue jumpsuit standing out against the snow, fitting the ideal clothing for an 80’s teenager… her blonde hair in half-buns, purple triangle earrings dangling from her ears. She laughed again, shaking her head, her red lipstick twisting slightly as she peered towards Sam.

Sam had risen from the bench, pulling her hoody back over head as her hair still fought against the wind. She forced the sleeves past her hands, her fingers intertwining gently with Danny’s as the 17-year-old stepped forward, “Where’s Vlad?”

The woman cocked her head, her smile offsetting as she held up her hand, inspecting her chipped blue fingernails, “I wouldn’t worry about Grandpa anymore. He’s been taken care of.”

The teenager swallowed, dropping his hand from Sam’s as he took another step forward, his hands burning slightly as Phantom threatened to appear. Danny swallowed, “What did you do to him?”

The woman laughed again, shoving her hands on her hips as she faced the 17-year-old again, “You’ve become quite the gossip in the Veil. Did you know that? Everyone talks about the halfa; the teenage boy with a hitlist bigger than… well… for decency, think of someone historically bad. The merciless angel. The bringer of death. The red. You could say you’ve become very popular amongst Spirits… and to hear, the little ghost boy could be harmed,” She paused, clasping her hands together as a smile painted her face, “Well, that was like Christmas morning.”

Sam reached for Danny’s shoulder, her fingers gracing over the fabric of his hoodie as he stepped forward again, “What did you do with Vlad?”

The woman smirked, “Me? No, honey, I’ve done nothing. See, I don’t really care for the creepy-uncle-lotion-in-the-basket types. You, however, are much more interesting. Much more powerful than Vlad would be… I can feel it. Radiating off you like the wind around you. It’s beautiful… And we can hurt you. We can touch you. Something those pathetic airbags in the Ghost Zone could only dream of. And believe me, pretty boy, there are many in the Veil eager to show you their real power. Eager to walk this Earth again… all we need is the blood of the halfa.”

“Fuck you!” Sam yelled, stepping in front of the 17-year-old, her finger’s gripping Danny’s wrist. Sam took a step forward, her stance tense, her hood down as wind washed over her. Snow beading in black hair, melting down her face as hatred flashed across her features. Her grip tightened around the teenager’s wrist, protectively; and Danny swallowed softly as he realized she wasn’t about to let go.

The woman stepped forward slowly, smirking again as she chuckled, “Call off your guard-dog, Daniel. I have no intention of killing you today… besides, in order for us to be reborn, you have to come to us willingly. Which I give you… a year before you enter the Veil for the last time.”

Danny scoffed, “Unlikely.”

He shivered as he met the woman’s gaze, her smile hiding something that scared the teenager more than the threat. An understanding… knowing. She knew what went through his mind. What he thought about, how he thought about himself… The way she looked at him, the way she smirked towards him, sneering… she knew. About the drugs. The blood. About the recklessness. She knew what stimmed through a tired mind in the nightmarish reality of Fenton from Phantom. She had to know… but the only way she would, would be- Vlad.

Danny glanced down for a second, swallowing loudly. Him and Vlad had had their differences, but they seemed to work it out over the years… so would Vlad really tell people about him? Would he really betray his secrets to other people, well, Spirits? The teenager had confided in him over the years. Not about everything… but about himself, about how he had come to hate Phantom. How he had become forced to live with Phantom’s pain and torment. How he felt, as the years past, and he let Phantom have more power, he could feel reality crumpling around him. Crumpling in, and slipping through his fingers, through the cracks created by Phantom, opened and birthed through the Ghost Zone and Spirit World. How it felt like he was being drained… that his humanity was dying. Would Vlad really betray him like that? After all this time?

The woman scoffed again, “Perhaps. But I’m willing to help you out… give you another nudge in the right direction.”

Confusion crossed the 17-year-old’s face as he stepped forward again, only a few feet from the woman as she crossed her arms, raising her head. She shook her head slowly, “I can see you’re confused, so I’ll make it simple for your stupid hormonal teenage brain.”

There was a flash, and Danny dropped harshly, his hands and arms burning as he felt the shift starting to take over. Phantom gaining control as the Fenton canister, forgotten on the park bench, exploded loudly, and the teenager pressed his burning hands against the snow. Cold braced against his fingers as he looked up, wiping away some green ectoplasm that litter across his body, blood dripping down his chin slowly from a cut on his upper lip. His eyes flashed green as he let Phantom gain control, his body burning slightly as he shifted, the aching pain that plagued him, gone as Phantom took over.

Within a second, he had the woman pinned against the tree, a smirk twisting against his lips as she struggled pathetically. He huffed, his tone cocky as he tightened his grip, “You missed.”

The woman hesitated before laughing loudly, snapping her fingers as Phantom reverted back, forcing Fenton through translucent skin as he was shoved back into his teenage body. Sweaty fatigue washed over him as she kicked his leg, slamming him against the ground harshly, pinning him against the snow. The 17-year-old squirmed, trying to coax Phantom out, trying to shift but finding the task difficult, his fingers tingling and sparking green but refusing to change.

The woman snorted, grasping his hand in hers, smiling down at him as her blonde hair brushed over his chest. She pressed her fingers between his, humming softly before jerking her hand back, bending Danny’s fingers as she clawed at his palm, bones cracking, causing the teenager to scream loudly as he fought against her. After a few seconds, she let go as wind rushed past them, and she pressed her chest against his, stroking his hair back gently. She bent down further, her lips brushing against his ear, “I wasn’t aiming for you, honey.”

The 17-year-old twisted; his head jerked towards Sam as he tried forcing the woman from him. Blood splattered against the snow as Sam fell, her face pressing against the ice, her hand, bloodied and shaky, as she reached in Danny’s direction. The teenager cried loudly as Sam’s hand dropped in the snow, her body going limp as red bled through white. The woman pressed her fingers against the 17-year-old’s cheek as he screamed again; his hands and arms burning as heat clawed through his chest. Sam opened her mouth, purple lips parted but no words came, only tears trailing down pale flesh before green eyes shut.

The woman laughed softly, digging her nails painfully into Danny’s cheek and chin, prying his eyes away from Sam and towards her. Rage ate away at his features, his skin scorching against Phantom as green began to steam off him, his eyes flashing bright green before darkening as his eyes met hers. The woman tightened her grip as green smoke continued to envelope them; a smirk plastered to skin pulled back too tightly as she pressed her clammy forehead against his, gently. She took a deep breath as Danny struggled against her, his skin itching as black ectoplasm began to drip from his nose and ears, running down his face before smacking against the ground. Cold soaking through his clothes as his skin began to burn away, green fading to black, and black sparks radiating from his fingertips as the woman pressed her lips against his.

The teenager jerked away, his gaze meeting Sam’s stilled face. Her features silent, and Danny choked again as he yelled her name, fighting against the woman’s grasp again. Her nails dug once more into his flesh, pulling his face back towards her as black tears fell down his cheeks in thick trails. She thumbed some away slowly before licking the liquid from her thumb and smirking, pressing her chest once again against his.

“Such power. Such a waste,” She bent down further, her lips pressing against his temple, “Two down… See you in a year, lover.”

Pain seared across his chest, and the 17-year-old screamed as her hand pressed over his heart, burning against flesh as the greenish black swallowing him, ceased. His eyes flashed back to blue as he choked, grasping towards her hand before realizing she was gone. His hand pressing over the bloody handprint stained against his shirt as the pain slowly began to evade, and he twisted around, stumbling to his feet as he forced himself towards Sam….

[dp-marvel94]

Fic Writer Review

 @floralflowerpower and @cleanlenins tagged me. Thanks friends!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

46

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?  

618,810    o.O It’s that much. Dang.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?  

2 (or maybe technically 3?). I almost exclusively write for Danny Phantom but I’ve also done a Gravity Falls crossover. And when I was in ninth grade, I wrote a Doctor Who fan fiction, which isn’t posted anywhere.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1) Double Discovery

2) Summoning

3) Fangs or no Fangs

4) Face to Face

5) Below the Greenhouse

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for?  

My Invisobang story, I am you (and you are me). It’s my second longest story and I worked really hard on it but it hasn’t got a lot of interaction. I’m really excited about the ideas and really want to talk to people about it.

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I respond to every comment I get. I love answering questions, talking about the phic, and just letting the readers know how grateful I am.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hope Can Be a Heavy Thing to Hold, definitely. Most of my stories actually end on a happy note but that one... not so much.

8. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I’ve only written on crossover, the Gravity Falls one I mentioned earlier. It’s called The Mystery Shack Spooks.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Unfortunately yes. I once got a really mean comment about the way I wrote Vlad in Hope. I deleted it right after but it still wasn’t nice :(

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind?

No. Nope. No. No way.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I never have but that would be really cool if it happened.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven’t.

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I’m not much of a romantic shipper and of the ships which I do like decently, I don’t think I can pick one. Maybe Dark Grey (Valerie Grey and Dan Phantom)? It’s not all that common but I’ve seen some really interesting character stuff done with it. Also that ship and Dan redemption tend to happen together and I love Dan redemption so much.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

That one’s hard since I really only write one story at a time so unless I’m actively writing something, I don’t consider it a WIP. I do have a list of stories I do plan on continuing: “It was an accident, I swear”. The finally story in “Life and Death is all Perspective.” A sequel/ epilogue to “I am you (and you are me).” The Hope Sequel.

But I have firm plans for all of those in my mind and definitely plan to get to them, even if it takes a long time. So I guess... I did plan on clean up/expand on the story I wrote for @thesoulspulse ‘s Danny Program au, but I don’t think that will happen. You guys can at least enjoy the unedited version. 

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’m a hurt/comfort writer through and through. I love writing heart to hearts and that type of dialogue so I think I’m pretty good at scenes like that.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff and humor. I don’t write a lot of this and when I do, it’s a struggle. I’m to the point in Face to Face where I’ve got a good amount of family bonding fluff and humor scenes planned and it’s already kicking my butt. 😥

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never done that before but I would if it was relevant. Actually wait...I did make up a Latin summoning for a phic once so I kinda have? Either way, I’d do my research and try my best to get it right.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?  

Technically it was Doctor Who. I wrote a one shot in ninth grade, for my English class. *shiver* My teacher liked it at least and thought it was really good. Then again, I’m pretty sure she had no idea it was a Doctor Who fic so...😂

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?  

Oh come on. I can’t pick a favorite! It really does depend on what I’m in the mood for (since yes, I do go back and read my own fics for my own enjoyment). So I’m gonna say I am you (and you are me) since I managed to write about my two favorite tropes, clones and split Danny, in the same story.

20. What fic are you most proud of?  

The fic I’m most proud of hands down is Face to Face. I’ve been working on it since February of 2020 and it’s at over 180k words. I’ve put a lot of effort and a lot of planning into it. A lot of planning. There’s a suprsingly number of moving parts and story threads I’m trying to keep track of. And every time I update and people comment, a part of me is still surprised that that someone other than me likes what started out as this very niche story. But I’m just so grateful.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this, plus @mymadmedleyw @flutteringdreams-matw @murphy-kitt @five-rivers

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

TENTATIVE "Episode" titles and synopsis:

1) He's a Phantom

Curiosity Killed the Cat, and…..massive amounts of ectoplasmic radiation brought it back? After the initial Accident that gives Danny his ghostly abilities, he struggles to adjust to his new half-ghost status, and catches the eye of Dr. Alyosha, a ghostly “Medical practitioner” with a concerning interest in Halfa Biology.

2) Locker #724

After his original locker is destroyed by a wayward Ecto-blast, Danny is re-assigned the infamous #724….inevitably attracting the attention of a powerful poltergeist. Tucker and Sam get involved with Casper Highs Autumn production of Grease! the musical, As Tucker does his damndest to sabotage the A-Listers leading roles through defunct stage crew management, Sam starts to uncover Danny’s history with the In crowd.

3) The most dangerous Game

After the increase of ghostly Activity in Amity park, The Fentons are starting to draw the attention of the media, much to the annoyance of Danny’s older sister, Jazz. Danny’s English teacher, Mr. Lancer, becomes concerned about how the attention could be negatively affecting one of his favorite students, and enlists the help of the newly employed “Nurse. Good.” Not ready to give up on his research, Dr. Alyosha sends a dangerous mercenary after Danny, and several key players become aware of his new half ghost status.

4) Rhyme Scheme

Mr. Lancer's been acting weird, even more so than usual, and Danny's starting to worry a little, seeing as Lancers the only teacher who seems to give a damn about his well being. Meanwhile, Sam enlists the help of Tucker and Danny to keep the A-listers from encroaching any further into her and her fellow goths territory, the Skulk and Lurk, after the bookstore announces a fundraiser with the prize being tickets to see the punk rock Band, Dumpty Humpty, live in concert.

5) Two of a kind 

Jack and Maddie's estranged lab partner just invited them to a college reunion- which means Danny and Jazz are getting dragged along for the ride. Neither of them are expecting much, aside form being bored out of their minds and surrounded by adults decades older than themselves- at least until it come to light that Jack and Maddie old college buddy is none other than Vladimir Masters, socially reclusive billionaire and CEO of Dairy King Co....and it won't take Danny very long to realize there's more to Vlad than meets the eye.

6) One hit wonder

Brand new to the music scene, singer Ember McLain is at the top of the charts after opening for the Band Dumpty Humpty, But the trio suspects there's something amiss about the rising starlet, and, After witnessing a ghost patrol go horribly sideways, Vlad tries to convince Danny to drop the "superhero Shtick".

7) Fear Factor

It's halloween, and thanks to breaking curfew one too many times, Danny's stuck at home handing out candy. At least, that's how the night starts out- but after an impromptu tour in the Ghost Zone goes awry, Danny, Sam, Tucker and Vlad find themselves pitted against the Spirit of fear itself.

8) Inverse Psychology

Casper high has a new guidance counselor….and she's maybe just a little too enthusiastic about her job. Still reeling from the events of Halloween, Sam and Tucker urge Danny to seek counseling. Jazz tries to balance her growing concern for her brother with planning for her Future.

9) Bullets and Bootleggers

Still deadset on convincing the other Halfa to Mentor him, Danny tails Vlad during one of his excursions into the Ghost Zone. Vlad's none too pleased to catch him in the act either, considering the business he gets up to in the Zone is far from the savory kind. Unfortunately for both of them, Danny is far too stubborn for his own good.

10) TBD

[skarlettskwrl]

Always Together: Chapter 1 - Where it All Began

It had been a day at school, and Jazz and I had decided to hit up the Nasty Burger the local food joint that was pretty much was the local teen hangout. We mainly met up there to study, get dinner, or both. I walk in and over to our usual booth and wait for Jazz. Which surprised me because she is usually waiting for me given that she already has a car, a sleek red convertible. And thus, always arrives a little before I do. And I begin pulling out my math sets from today, consisting of 3 sets across 5 pages. We are currently in what our teacher calls "Unit 0" which is basically a review from grade 8 and is going to last a week and a half, it is gonna have a test at the end mainly so the teacher can make adjustments based on where people are struggling or so she said.

Anyway, I am halfway done with my first set when Jazz finally pulls up. She is in her usual black fitted long-sleeved shirt paired with a pair of blue (almost cyan) jeans and black flats. Her hair is ginger, straight, and ends halfway down her back with a cyan blue headband. Her eyes are a deep turquoise. Her skin is pale but not sickly. I begin to wave at her as she approached; she smiled and quickens her pace. She sits down across from me in our booth and begins pulling out her homework, probably being quite a lot tougher than mine as she is a junior and I'm a freshman.

"Hey Jazz what took ya?" I asked her.

She replied with "I decided to take extra hours tutoring starting this semester" I frowned a bit at this as I am going to see her less and we had and will always be pretty close. She's been taking odd jobs around for as long as I can remember. She did this to help pay for food in the house and clothes on our backs. As much as our parents love us, we can't help but feel they loved their research more than us. And by a pretty large margin at times. Sometimes they are downright neglectful which kinda hurts to say. Often, when they are into the flow of work on an invention or research we won't see them for days at a time. This is probably why I'm so close with Jazz. That, and our parents' career choice had alienated us from the rest of the town and our respective peer groups by consequence. She was always teaching herself important life skills so she could intern and teach me. I often see her as more of a parent than a sister in that regard.

"So how was your day at school today?" She asks with a hint of concern.

"Slow mostly, classes aren't really kicking off yet with the first week and all," I said as a matter-a-fact-like. She frowned a bit as she can tell am holding back but decided not to press. The bit I wasn't going to tell her that I was shoved and locked in my locker as I was getting my geography textbook and binder by none other than Dash Baxter. Which then in turn made me 37 minutes late for said class when I was let out by the janitor and lost a perfectly good lock in the process (AN: Gosh that used to happen to me in grade school and it sucked and was a bit scary. I was kinda the 'strange kid' throughout school and it, unfortunately, followed me to post-secondary) She asks me "Danny are you doing ok on your math?". And I reply with "It's mostly stuff from last year so far, which you did a pretty good job at explaining as always." And said with a bit of a grin.

"Well then, while you finish that. I'm gonna pull out my question on 1984. Do the readings." Leaving 'ask for help if you get stuck' unsaid and takes on a serious face as she begins to read.

I have no issues completing my math and move onto my English work concerning To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Whereas, Jazz begins her physics work and man did question looks strange to me, making me very glad I am only in Gr 9 math. And after about 45 minutes pass,

"Hey Jazz what have you got left? Because I got 3 more reading questions." I ask about getting a bit of hunger making my stomach growl. She giggles at this and answers with "Just the 5 physics questions. Why don't you go order our supper after you get those last three done?" She replied still in the middle of her 8th to last problem. I hurry to finish the questions which takes about sevenish minutes. Then I proceed to put my binders, textbook, and English book back in my school bag. Jazz then hands me 12 bucks for both our meals. And I walk over to the cash and internally groan a little when I see the length of the line. There are about twenty-five people ahead of me. 'Damn that early Friday evening rush!' I internally exclaim. I wait in line for the next sixteen minutes. I finally get to the cash the cashier asks in his usual squeaky and nasally voice, also with a slight lisp due to headgear? I thinking that was a thing of the past. It perplexes me a bit.

"How may I take your order?" He asks me.

"2 Nasty teen burger combos please" He punches it in and rings me up with 11.50 and I hand him the 12 bucks and he asks

"Would you like a receipt?"

I reply with a simple "sure." Then I advance in the 'waiting for food line' and do another 8 minutes of waiting before I get our food.

I then walk back over to Jazz, who had already her homework and is waiting for me. I start unwrapping my burger and take a few bits. Then, Jazz adopts a look of concern on her face. I realize now that she is going to press what didn't earlier.

"Hey Danny, did something happen at school today?" And I was right. I know that I should have told her initially but I was determined to prove that I can handle myself, not only that, but I was a little embarrassed. And with a little more nonverbal prodding on her part, I tell her what went down with the day.

"Danny you really have to tell someone about that boy or stand up to him to discourage this behavior." Jazz states in a serious but caring tone. I sigh with a bit of an eye roll.

"For one waaay stronger than me. And for two he's an A-lister and quarterback giving him immunity to punishment by the principle and like most if not of the teachers who get a slice of the sports pie, making any attempts to report him futile." I deadpan, then add "It's pretty damn backward that the people the A-list bully are the ones that get in trouble. Being locked in lockers/closets and being late for classes getting reprimanded by teachers. Or, how they force the nerds to their homework and assignments for them. It's absolutely disgusting!" I am fuming by this point. Jazz simply nods and listens as I continue to rant and we finish eating our fast food supper. We get up to leave, clear our trays in the trash. We both wash our hands and we leave the establishment.

As we are getting into Jazz's car she asks me "Do you want to go to Staples to get a new lock?"

"Sure, why not?" Staples is about a five-minute drive from Nasty Burger. She pulls up and parks close as she can to the store entrance. We get out and enter the store and head for the school supplies aisle. Luckily it's still early enough in the semester that the back-to-school sales are still active. I pick out a pack of 4 master direction locks for 12 bucks, and with that, we head, and with that we head to the cash and out of the store.

We get back in Jazz's car and head home. Which is a 7 min drive from staples. Now our house is quite unmistakable with its huge UFO looking structure on its roof and the bright neon sign reading 'FentonWorks' with an arrow pointing to our front door. Jazz pulls up on our driveway and we enter and head up to our rooms on the second floor.

My room has a pretty standard twin bed, blue walls, desk with a desktop computer. The walls are littered with NASA posters and on my ceiling, those kiddy five points glow in the dark stars with a few planets mixed in. I have a dream to become an astronaut or at the very least work for NASA. I set my bag down by my computer desk and grab the directional locks and start trying to pry the packaging open. Then get scissors because this is getting ridiculous. I finally open the packaging. Picking the black and white one out of the pack I set to read the instructions set the lock 'up up up left down right down' and practice it a few times and once I get it down pat, I place it in my bag and boot up my computer and pull up an article on the Andromeda Galaxy. I'm not even halfway through the article when I hear my dad's booming voice.

"Jazz, Danny, come down to the lab right away!". This is the first time I've heard from either of my parents in days. They've been engrossed in some new portal invention as far as I can tell.

I head down where I meet my sister. We both give each an eye roll. And climb the stairs down to the lab.

Both my parents are standing in front of a massive hole in the wall. Almost shaking with excitement grinning ear to ear. My parents are an odd pair. My dad Jack Fenton, in his usual bright orange day-glow hazmat suit with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boot. He also has a hood with orange goggles that is easy to tuck into the collar which is how he usually wears it but not right now hiding his midnight blue eyes and greying hair. My Mom Maddie Fenton was in her complimentary blue hazmat suit, with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boots. Like my dad's hood, hers can also be tucked away into the collar but unlike my dad, she had red goggles and usually wears it up. Hiding her auburn hair and purple eyes. Both my parents are ghost hunters/researchers. They both have an intense hatred of ghosts but at the same token are completely fascinated by them.

"Kids go grab your hazmat suits, so we can begin," mom instructs. Jazz and I head over to the far wall where all the spare hazmat suits are. I grab my hazmat suit which is white with a black rubber collar, gloves, and boots, and head into the lab washroom. Take off my usual clothes which consist of a white t-shirt with a red-ringed collar and sleeves, and a red oval on the chest, a baggy slightly worn pair of blue jeans, And white and red converse. Once I had zip it up, I notice a super cringy sticker of my dad's grinning face and rip it off. I hope he won't get insulted. I exit the washroom and Jazz enters. A moment or two later she emerges with her hazmat suit which is lime green with the same collar, gloves, boots, and hood the same as me, but her goggles are blue and mine, black. We all pull up our hoods and goggles. Jazz asks in slight disinterest "What's this one supposed to do?"

And dad gave a booming reply of "This baby's gonna bust open a hole into the ghost dimension! Jazzypants!" I'll admit this invention is starting to intrigue me. Dad then grabs two fat cables, one going to the portal and the other the wall.

Simultaneously as he connects them he shouts "Bonzai!" And a visible spark runs up the cables, halfway to the portal, and fizzles out.

"I don't understand, we check over the calculations and the schematics several times over" dad said in disbelief. Mom walks over to dad and puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, why don't we take a long walk together and grab some triple chocolate fudge as well. And come back to this tomorrow." Dad smiles a bit at the fudge but not with the same enthusiasm as he usually would. Both our parents exit the lab and head out. We pull back our hoods.

"Man, Jazz, I've never seen them that crush before." Jazz rolled her eye.

"You and I both know that portal was never going to work because ghosts and the paranormal are fiction." I just sigh in response, then she adds

"they'll get over it eventually and hopefully they will finally give up on this nonsense" she puts her fists in the air as she finishes.

"I'm heading back upstairs" and with that, she changes back into her normal clothes and leaves.

A few moments pass and I'm lost in thought 'maybe they just missed a wire, a switch or something.' 'It would be pretty cold to explore step foot in a whole new dimension' and with that mind is made up. I walk over to the portal and climb inside. Just as jazz comes down I'm already at the end of the portal.

"Hey, Danny, have you seen my phone? Danny you still down here?" She calls.

"No I haven't, have you checked the washroom? I'm in the portal." I answer.

Jazz responds with "Danny what are you thinking! Get out of there now!" I hear the worry in her voice and head back out. But as I do, I trip on a bundle of wires. To stop myself from face planting, I shoot my hand out and it catches on a panel. I hear a 'click' and remove my hand to reveal to buttons; On and Off, the on button is pushed in. I hear the whine of electricity. And turn to run, but it is ready too late. There is a sudden bright green, blinding light that engulfs me. And with it unimaginable searing white-hot pain. I feel as though every nerve and cell in my body is being torn apart and reforming. I hear a deafening blood-curdling scream and I slowly realize that's me screaming. 'Am I dying?' The pain starts to subside a bit as I hear a woman calling, no screaming my name it's so familiar but I can't quite place it. It's so far away, I want to get closer. But I'm so tired, my limbs feel lead. I remember whose voice it is now. It's Jazz. I tumble out of the portal and the world fades the black.