#Phic Phight 2022

[camels-pen]

Restless Summons

Summary: Constantine cashes in a favour with Danny as a last resort. Danny just wants to fucking sleep.

based on @grubchen0217's prompt "Zombies vs Ghosts"

Ao3 Link

~

Blood, pain, misery. 

The smell of ash in the air from after effects of flammable projectiles and heat powers. 

A charged crackle in the air as if even an ember from a dying match would light the whole bridge aflame. 

Bruce panted as he readied another three explosive batarangs in each hand. He took a moment to flicker his gaze across the others on the battlefield. His kids all looked about as haggard and roughed up as he did, and from a glimpse in the cracked side mirror of a dented car earlier, he knew Alfred would have him laid up in bed for weeks after this.

The other gravity bound heroes didn’t look much better, Aquaman and Martian Manhunter in particular looked like they were about ready to fall over. 

The ones in the air were less hurt, but ordered to stay far far away. As a form of long-range combat, and, if necessary, a contingency should the grounded heroes succumb to the virus.

Clark—Superman, had frowned at that plan, and Diana had clearly expressed her displeasure, but ultimately both Superman and Wonder Woman agreed and the others fell in line. Similar, but much more vocal protests came from the other hero teams present, but the arguments died down as his kids stood silently by his side, clearly in agreement and unwilling to change their minds. Earlier, they were running out of time until the first wave, so, with bitter expressions and clenched fists, the other young adults and teens held their tongues, but still kept a defiant look in their eyes. 

He had to watch the fastest flyers when he had time to make sure they didn’t do anything reckless or lose the advantage, but as wave after wave came, all anyone could think about were the hoards slowly overwhelming their forces.

Their last resort, a favour Constantine had gotten from some King of the Underworld, was flimsy at best, less than useless and possibly counterintuitive at worst.

But as the newest wave of undead crashed against the Lantern’s wall construct—the sole focus for all three green lanterns to funnel the hoards to one point and make it easier to destroy them—Bruce could see the minute cracks in the construct, the small breaks and missing chunks, start to spread much further than he felt comfortable with.

The zombies were energetic as always. Full of a starving hunger that urged them to eat the first living thing it sensed. And without the feeling of pain nor a need for functioning organs, not only were the Justice League and assorted heroes outnumbered, they were guaranteed to lose the battle if it dragged on any longer. Fighting based on whichever side has the most stamina will always end with the zombies winning and rampaging across the world in no time.

Bruce grit his teeth. He didn’t want to give the order to bring something that might be far worse than these zombies, but at this point he didn’t have much of a choice.

He threw the last of the batarangs in his hand and tapped his communicator. “Constantine, it’s time. You’re sure you can get that favour without killing half the planet?”

“95% sure Bats. This one’s a pretty good hearted being. Despite being a little shit.”

“Call them in.”

“You got it. Oh, and tell the rest of the guys to keep away from the big bright green pillar, eh?”

“Understood.”

He sent along Constantine’s message to the others, as well as new orders for the fliers with close combat skills to join the grounded heroes in the front line. They just needed to stall until Constantine finished his summoning spell, then the fliers could grab grounded heroes and they could all retreat far away as whatever eldritch being owed a favour to Constantine took care of the zombies. That would make strategizing a counter attack much easier as well, should the being choose to turn on them for their own amusement.

Just as he said, a massive pillar of bright green light shot into the sky, illuminating the entire bridge and simultaneously giving the signal to everyone to get ready to retreat at a moment's notice.

He was too far away to know what, exactly, Constantine had told the being, but less than a minute after the pillar went up, a blur of black and white shot through the air towards the nearly destroyed walls and a new wall of green energy appeared right behind the Lantern’s constructs. 

“Hey! Let down your wall things and let me handle the rest!” A young voice yelled from far above them. While the grounded heroes and non-Lantern fliers started to retreat, Bruce took a moment to survey the sky, to see their potential future enemy.

“I don’t know who said that, but we’re the only ones keeping those things from coming through!” John yelled, stubbornly holding his arm up higher and pushing a burst of energy into the wall to start to repair the damages. It was slow progress, but Bruce found himself simultaneously appreciative and annoyed by his dedication. They knew the order was to clear out once the being arrived to take care of the hoards and though he didn’t like putting all his eggs in an unknown, and likely highly dangerous, basket, they had no choice if they wanted everyone to survive.

“We’ll support the being that Constantine summons from afar once it shows up, but until then, we’re staying right where we are,” Hal said, gritting his teeth as another chunk was taken out of their combined construct. 

Guy wasn’t saying a word, his teeth clenched so tightly Bruce wasn’t sure he’d be able to even grunt without pain for days, but the way his body was angled, plus what Bruce knew of his character, he knew Guy wasn’t going anywhere either. 

There was a mirthless chuckle. “You guys sound ridiculous, you know that?” The newer green wall, of which was a lighter shade than the Lanterns’ construct, expanded in height and length. “Well, if I can’t get you to see reason, I guess it’s time to show off a little, huh?”

They heard a long intake of breath before a loud whistle echoed in the area, somehow even louder than the groaning zombies and likely the source of the newfound shakiness to the bridge’s structure. 

The sound left a ringing in Bruce’s ears despite the cowl’s automatic sound dampening function past a certain level of decibels. And he could only imagine what that must have felt like to someone without any type of ear protection. But that was something to add to the strategy book later, if the being proved a threat.

There was another long intake of breath before something that sounded like TV static filled the air. Bruce wasn’t quite sure what the being was doing to make a noise like that, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. It did… something to the zombies, making them all pause and stare up at a spot in the air where the being was assumedly floating, and that gave the rest of the heroes the opportunity to escape behind where the bridge connected to Gotham.

“Eh, you guys would’ve smelled me anyway. Might as well have fun with it, right?” The same young voice said. “If you understood a word I said, you might not have been as happy though, considering I just called for your extinction.”

As the being said the final word, two things happened: a glowing boy in a black and white hazmat suit appeared where the voice, and subsequently the being, was presumed to be floating, and a large influx of colourful beings with a similar glow around them as the boy, flew towards the hoards of zombies.

The same hoards of zombies who, when the boy appeared, immediately threw themselves at him with a vigor even more frightening than before. Which begs the question, what changed?

They must see the boy as some sort of threat, but then what of the Justice League? And if the zombies saw the Justice League as some sort of mere prey, then what exactly made this boy—this being—so different? 

Bruce was being carried away by Diana at the moment, so he still had a bit of time to observe before meeting with the founders to figure out their next move.

Once the boy started to be attacked, the other floating beings wasted no time in coming to his aid. A good third of them charged and fired green beams of energy, similar in appearance to the pillar of light and the boy’s shield, and left a number of large, burning holes in the bodies of the zombies, rendering many unable to move or, in some cases, completely turned to ash.

The size of their attacks and the sheer number of all the floating beings made Bruce wonder if he should’ve agreed to Constantine cashing in his favour earlier in the fight to save everyone the injuries or if he never should’ve agreed to it at all. Many of their team leaders were badly injured and a few had to be administered the few antidotes the League was able to synthesize before the fight. They would’ve endured permanent casualties if he hadn’t agreed to use the last resort option, but most of them won’t live to see tomorrow if the beings choose to take over or end the world instead of going back to their own.

And it seemed that’s not all they could do. Besides invisibility, those energy beams, and the manipulation of gravity to float and fly around without resistance, Bruce noticed many of them had their own unique set of powers that they tended to favour: there was a blue haired girl using her powers to amplify the sounds of her guitar to be a physical force that caused blunt force trauma on any zombie ahead of her; a metal suit with a flaming mohawk was sending a barrage of never-ending missiles and beams from lazer guns that practically disintegrated the zombies on the spot; and there was some sort of large werewolf creature slashing through zombies with its claws like butter.

Slowly but surely, the hoards were thinning. And with the wall created by the summoned being,  there were no further waves coming through the portal. The Justice League and the rest of the heroes present had hardly done anything since those beings showed up.

They were powerful, swift, organized, and easily summoned, if Constantine was to be believed. They were good allies, but they could be terrifying enemies.

And Batman knew nothing about them.

He sincerely hoped the summoned being and his army weren’t like Klarion, the little witch boy who did whatever he wanted in the moment and used his powers however he saw fit without care for how it might harm others. 

He hoped, but he wasn’t foolish enough to rely solely on hope.

---

Ohh yessss, Danny was going to have the nicest sleep tonight. 

Lancer cancelled tomorrow’s test due to some gas leak in the gym, the ghosts were actually less world domination seeking today—he might almost call them docile—and his mom washed his favourite space pajamas with the astronomically correct constellations on them.

Danny was going to pass the fuck out and stay that way the whole night through.

He closed his eyes and jumped above his bed before slowly floating back down and phasing under his comforter so that he was completely snug. He quickly started to drift.

“Kid. Hey, kid.”

No. Danny was not getting up. Constantine could go fuck himself.

“I know you’re probably cursing me out in your head, or whatever your equivalent is, but I’m cashing in that favour you owe me. Now.”

Hnnnngggg. Danny hated owing favours.

He peeled his eyes open and realized he was, in fact, not snug in his warm bed with his favourite pajamas anymore. No, Danny was now floating inside a large pillar of green light—he was pretty sure that was just the atmosphere from the Ghost Zone leaking out, but he’ll probably still have to come back to check and make sure no one escaped through here, ugh—and floating on his side while in ghost form.

Danny glared at the man in front of him. “I am literally going to haunt your ass this weekend, Constantine.”

Constantine smirked. “Love you too, kid, but can we leave the greetings for later? The League needs you and your subjects’ help.” Danny grumbled, but poked his head out of the pillar. His eyes widened marginally at the remains of the Golden Gate Bridge around him, then he looked around to the different people sitting or standing around Constantine, either heavily injured or assisting one of the injured.

Danny turned back to Constantine. “What—?” Constantine pointed behind Danny, and he fully emerged from the pillar before looking to the other end of the bridge. 

The part filled with corpses.

Danny flinched. “Uh, I know I’m a dead guy of unknowable age and wisdom or whatever, but did you really call me out here to bury like, a couple hundred dead people?”

“What? No, look a little further.” Danny followed his direction and squinted into the cloud of dust covering the path further ahead. He noticed small flashes of light and then a large explosion going off as dozens of heroes, familiar and not, came racing through the dust cloud towards them.

There was no sign of the Green Lanterns or a few of the founding members that Danny remembered, but at the moment, he was more preoccupied with how one of the corpses’ hands were stuck in a tight grip on Nightwing’s boot.

Danny sucked in a breath. “Oh. Oh fuck.”

“You see why we needed your help, yeah?” Danny nodded. “You think you can handle it on your own or do you need some time to gather your forces?” 

Danny didn’t answer, still staring at the arm of the corpse where the hand had torn off with intense focus. A deep feeling of fear surged through his core when it began to wiggle, tightening its hold even further and nearly causing Nightwing to trip. Danny aimed a hand at it, ectoplasm building in his palm, but just before he could fire, Constantine pushed his arm down.

“Let me handle that one. You’re not exactly the best with close quarters aim.” Constantine muttered a spell and the hand burned to ash, but left Nightwing unharmed.

Danny blinked, calming down. “Sorry, I don’t really know what came over me.” Constantine scoffed. Danny rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I know some of what you mean, half of the time.”

“That was a terrible joke.”

“You should lighten up more.”

“You bring out the worst in me, you stupid old fart.”

“Hey, can we, uh, not right now?” Red Robin asked, panting with his hands on his knees for a moment before straightening. “I mean, as much fun as it would be to see Constantine eat shit for fucking with things beyond his control, we kind of have a crisis on our hands.”

“Red Robin’s right.” Nightwing turned to Danny. “I don’t know exactly what horrific things Constantine did to get a favour from you—”

Constantine grumbled. “You know, I don’t like what you’re implying there—”

“But we do need help and at this point, we’re willing to accept just about anything.” 

Danny hummed. He thought about the corpses that weren’t really corpses and the possible repercussions from just agreeing to help all willy nilly like this. Even with the favour he owed Constantine, he didn’t really have to do it. Then he thought about being a dick about it and pulling a loophole on them about ghost law. He’d come back, obviously, but he was just so fucking tired and these guys are the Justice League; they could handle a few hours without him, right?

Danny was about to cite some Ghost King bullshit so he could leave, but then his eyes caught onto another hero behind Nightwing. Red Hood, he thought, was his name. Wasn’t exactly a hero, what with the whole killing people thing, but generally had good intentions from what he remembered.

It was strange though, the more he looked at Red Hood, the more he could swear that he was—

His core instinctually let out a small call for his subjects as well as projecting his general aura of peace a bit further than his usual ghostly glow. The Red Hood’s tense body language instantly relaxed and he walked, almost dazed, to stand in front of Danny before taking off his helmet and his domino mask underneath. Nightwing and Red Robin were firing questions at their ally, but Red Hood stayed silent and kneeled with his head bowed before Danny.

“My king,” he said.

Oh. 

Well, that answered his question.

Danny was going to, uh, not think about the possibility of another halfa that he never knew about and was possibly another bitter and murderous old man like Vlad. Instead, he was going to go solve that zombie problem and then go home to his bed, like he planned all along. 

Hopefully, this was all just some fantastical dream that his brain conjured up to entertain him while he had a blissful snooze.

Danny was never that lucky, but it’s nice to hope for things.

He was getting off track. He had one more thing to check before he agreed to help.

Danny held out his hand. “Rise and show me your core.”

“What is happening?” Nightwing asked Constantine. 

Red Robin watched with wide eyes. “B is sooo gonna kill us if Hood gets sent to hell again.” 

Danny ignored them, his eyes trained on Red Hood as he stood and didn’t move.

“Is something wrong?” Danny asked, a million thoughts flying through his head.

Red Hood shook his head. “You asked about my core. I don’t know what that is.”

Danny’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What? How could you be a halfa without—?!” Danny paused, seeing the tension ramp up in the other heroes. He took a deep breath. “Very well.” He toned down the signals from his core and pulled his aura back. Red Hood’s eyes slowly started to become clearer. They were also changing colour, going from a light green to a dark blue.

Huh, interesting.

“Welp, I guess I’ll help you out with minimal complaint this time, since you’ve been taking care of one of mine for so long.” Red Hood’s been around at least since Danny started middle school, though probably longer. He didn’t have that freshly dead scent about him, like some of the corpses on the bridge did. Though the fact that he didn’t have a core…

Danny might need to pull Ghost King bullshit just to investigate that. Can’t have Red Hood accidentally outing the halfa secret, if he even is one. Either way, it’d open up a whole new can of worms for that guy and, halfa or not—hell, ghost or not—Danny’s not about to ditch someone who was likely to be caught up in the GIW’s inhumane experiments and hunting practices at some point. The Red Hood cursed and started asking why the hell he felt and acted so weird. Nightwing threw out a theory regarding some kind of pit and that Danny was a creature that spawned from it, which, fantastic, absolutely fucking amazing; something else for Danny to look for and make sure there isn’t another leak in the Ghost Zone. Red Robin made a joke about Danny being the grim reaper and thinking he was too ugly to take Red Hood back to hell. Red Hood grabbed his collar and started shaking him like a ragdoll.

Danny had turned invisible immediately after saying he’d leave, if only just to examine the Red Hood while he wasn’t paying attention, though this was a funny bonus; who knew the Red Hood was friends with the Bats? 

Regardless, he had a job to do, and he needed to see if there was a core in Red Hood after all that he just didn’t know about. 

But while Red Hood was still holding up Red Robin, before he had even put his domino back on—even before his eyes had fully turned blue and left the light, glowing green behind—he turned, looked straight at Danny and raised an eyebrow, saying, “So, are you going or what?”

The other three heroes looked at him quizzically and then jumped when Danny popped back into the visible spectrum with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m gone.” He turned invisible once more, gave a wave and a quiet whisper of a promise to talk later, before shooting off into the sky.

---

The battle ended quicker than Danny expected and thank fuck for that.

He got Wulf to seal up the massive zombie spitting portal and then he and Wulf worked together to make one huge portal back to the Ghost Zone for everybody. 

He made sure to loudly state that any ghosts trying to cause mischief in the Living Realm within the next 48 hours would get a whole week of thermos time. Repeat offenders would get another week of thermos time, but in the fridge. He thankfully didn’t have to worry about any ice cores trying to make trouble since Frostbite and his buddies were practically the only ones and knew how to keep the rest in line. He doesn’t really have any other punishment methods than sticking them in the fridge and he’s wayyy too tired to think of any right now.

Danny had a vague feeling that he needed to do something, but mentally shrugged. If it was important, he would’ve remembered.

The last stragglers flew through and Wulf closed the portal on his way in, waving goodbye. Danny yawned through a goodbye of his own and opened a portal to his room. He felt something bite the back of his neck and he scratched at the spot absentmindedly before stepping through and closing it right after. There might have been a few frustrated people trying to ask him what the hell kind of abomination he was, but his hearing became extremely selective the moment he realized he could leave. 

Also, he really didn’t care. 

It was bedtime, fucking sue him.

When Danny saw his bed again, he nearly cried. 

He closed his eyes and jumped atop the bed, floating down slowly before phasing under the covers. Midway down, he changed from Phantom to Fenton and traded form-fitting hazmat that smelled like ash, blood, and decay for a soft pair of blue and white pajamas that smelled of a fresh wash with his favorite constellations hand stitched into the fabric.

Danny had a brief thought to set his alarm for school before remembering it was Saturday and letting out a little sigh of relief. Not even the sun’s warm rays and painting the inside of his eyelids red could stop the way he started to drift.

Oh, that was nice, something blocked out the sun anyway. On the off chance this was Fright Knight coming about something important, Danny squinted through one eye. Then both his eyes flew open in surprise.

Superman was hovering outside his window with Batman held in his arms. Both were staring directly at him, Batman’s hands holding a lock picking set up to the window lock and a holographic screen hovering above his wrist showing a blinking GPS centered on Danny’s house.

Danny groaned, already mourning his precious sleep-in weekend plans. “Ah, fuck. I knew I was forgetting something.”

[sailor-toni]

I Think My Neighbor’s Dead Son is Trying to Talk to Me?

You can also read this on A03, FF.net, or Wattpad

Summary:

Wes Weston has just moved into Amity Park but there is something seriously wrong with the destroyed house next door to him. Espically at night when the wind passed through the rusted Fenton Works sign. (AU Full Ghost Danny) (Phicc Phight prompt fill for kalyke/aggressivelyclueless)

The cold summer’s air blasted itself at the nape of his neck, chilling him to the bone. It was a threat, or a command from above to stop, but Wes saw something in the old Fenton Works, and he had to know whose eyes he saw in the brief flashes of lighting.

It started last week, his father had gotten a news anchor job in a medium size city called Amity Park, which according to the aged and weathered sign, was a great place to live. Was it really that great if they had to both underline and italicize the word? To Wes the strangeness of the sign was a single for the dull dread that was to come from life in Amity Park. 

It rained almost everyday in Amity Park, and when the sun decided to show itself the harsh winds kept everyone in jackets well past winter. The buildings were a mash up of white colonial paint with tall white columns, pointed Victorian roofs, and décor that looked like it belonged in the height of the eighties. All together it created a visual disaster of a town that seemed both lost in time and missing whatever soul it had once had. In short, Wes hated it here. He wanted to go back to Oklahoma where the sunset wasn’t obstructed by something every day, and back to where his friends were. 

Worst of all was the house next to them. It was a three story townhouse with a second metal house (It was a large metal circular structure with satellite dishes and antennas on top,  and random metal poles connecting it to the house below) on top, and a dead neon sign on the side that read Fenton Works. The whole building was abandoned and dilapidated with half the windows broken and the other half bored up. 

And Wes didn’t believe in ghost, he thought the idea was stupid. The dead can’t come back and anyone who told you otherwise was trying to sell you something. But one day at school he heard some of the other students talking. 

“So, Kwan are you in?” Dash, school bully, high school football star, and future used car salesman said.

“No way dude! I’m not about to spend my free night looking for Fenton’s Ghost,” Kwan, the only one on the football team who  had enough smarts go to college, said. 

“Aw, are you scared? Is the Kwan-ster scared of an old house?” 

“I’m not scared. We just don’t know what those people were doing there. What if they left a science experiment out and it gives us all cancer?” 

“You’re being ridiculous man, they probably took everything when they left.”

“You never know dude. I mean… their own son died because of what they were hiding in the basement. They probably didn’t want to carry that reminder with them when they left.”

“But doesn't that make you more curious to check it out? My Mom’s co-worker’s second cousin’s boyfriend said she saw strange lights in the house last halloween. Maybe the Fenton kid is still there as a ghost!” 

“Well, you and the girls can go deal with that. I will be home with fresh food, a warm blanket, and the new COD game.” 

  Wes tuned the rest of their conversation out. Instead writing down what he had hearn in his notebook. He didn’t know someone had died there. He assumed it was some business that lost all their money or something. But that would explain why every night as he looked out his window he swore he felt someone staring back. 

That night as the rainstorm turned nightmarish, he pushed his chair to the window in his room overlooking the old Fenton Works. If someone lived there he could have seen right into their bedroom. What kind of person lived there? He thought. Were they cool? Did they also like video editing and video games? Or were they like Dash and took sick pleasure in shoving peoples heads into the mystery meat specials. Wes was sure he could still smell it. 

BOOM! Lighting passed between the houses, staining everything a blinding white. He ducked his head and shielded his eyes, but in the bright light there was someone across the alleyway, with neon green eyes watching him. No, observing him. No, they looked like they were trying to say something. 

“Who…” The question sat on the tip of his tongue as the eyes faded into the clap of thunder. 

A week later, Wes stood outside the Fenton Works on a gray cloudy evening, Dash and Kwan standing beside him. The muted tones of the sky turned the world around them into shades of muted gray and blues, except the sign on the front door. The orange No Trespassing sign stood out like a neon flame. 

“Are you sure they are coming?” Kwan said. He looked nervous. 

“Yes! Paulina and Star just passed the Nasty Burger, they should be here soon,” Dash said. “Hey Kid.” 

“It’s Wes.” 

“Yeah, whatever, are you sure you saw something here?” 

“Yes, it was as clear as day, there was someone watching me with these neon green flashlight eyes,” Wes began. 

“Well you better be right. If we don’t see anything I’ll pummel your ass to timbuktu and back. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Wes said. He had only mentioned it to them because he didn’t want to go alone. 

“Hey guys!” Paulina yelled. Her and Star ran up to meet them with a bag of goodies. 

“What do you got babe?” Kwan said. 

“My Mom used to go ghost hunting all the time with friends back in New York, so she let me borrow some of her stuff. We have an EVP, flashlights, motion dictators, and this radio the ghost can speak through,” Star said. 

“A ghost is going to talk to us through that little thing?” Dask asked.

“Well, kind of, the ghost will flip through the radio stations and use whatever words are being broadcasted to speak to us. According to my Mom it can be a bit buggy at times.” 

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Wes said. 

“Thanks dude! I think it's amazing. I didn’t know she had all this stuff,” Star said. 

“And what did you bring Paulina?” Kwan asked. 

“My Mom made me bring a cross, a bottle of holy water, and a knife, just in case. God, she is so annoying,” Paulina pulled out a nine inch hunting knife as she said this. 

“Holy Shit! Paulina’s packing!”

“Don’t shout it Kwan! Do you want to get the cops called on us?” Paulina shoved the knife back into her low rise jeans. 

“Sorry.” 

“On that note let’s get in there, Wes you go first,” Dash said. 

“Me? Why me?”

“Cuz’, you saw the ghost first, now go before it tries to rain on us.” Dash pushed Wes forward. 

The inside of the Fenton works was worse than the outside. A pipe had burst some time ago and the carpet smelled of sour mold. There were some lights from the windows but the rest of the home was dark. Their shoes squished on the carpet, and the standing water threatened to fill their shoes. Through the groans of disgust and fake puking the teenager found their way to the staircase. The downstairs had nothing in it besides a broken stove and a fridge that had been locked shut. Dash and Kwan tried to pull on it but the lock hadn’t rusted through yet. 

The upstairs was picked clean as well. The fading sunlight showed spots on the wallpaper where pictures once hung proudly on display, but now there were brightly colored spots along the fading wall. Dash kicked open a door that was stuck and yelled for the rest. This room had everything, a bed, computer, desk, faded space posters, and action figures along the wall. 

“Woah! Do you think this is his room?” Paulina asked. 

“Whose room?” Star said. 

“The Fenton’s son, I think his name was Danny? According to the news he was messing around in his parents lab and suffered a fatal accident,” Kwan said. 

“And his parents left everything behind?” Wes said. He noticed a large window that looked directly into the building next door. 

“Maybe it was too hard. I hear some parents won’t touch anything that belonged to their kids after they pass,” Paulina brushed the dust off the computer monitor. 

“That is… understandable, but they didn’t even take his clothes with them. Apparently the kid wore briefs,” Dash was rummaging through the drawers. 

“That’s fucked up, Danny didn’t deserve this,” Kwan said. 

“Did you know him?” Wes said. 

“Yeah, we were in the third grade together. I wasn’t really friends with him, he was friends with Tucker, the nerd kid. But he was nice. I remember he did his whole show and tell about space and what it took to become an astronaut,” Kwan said. “We didn’t share a fourth grade teacher, but the school had an assembly when he died.”

“That’s rough buddy,” Dash patted his friend on the back. 

“It’s okay. I didn’t really know him too well, but I felt bad for his sister. She was in sixth grade and during the assembly all she did was cry.” 

“I would too. That’s a lot for a kid to go through,” Star said. “But maybe you can talk to Danny one more time with the radio.” The radio turned on with a loud static noise, with garbled speech mixed in as the dial moved back and forth. “DANNY IF YOU ARE HERE PLEASE LET US KNOW!” 

“Do you have to yell?” Paulina said. Wes could only hear her because he was standing next to her. 

“WHAT DID YOU SAY PAULINA?” 

“NOTHING!”

“OKAY!” 

“DANNY IF YOU ARE STILL HERE, MAKE THE RADIO SAY YES!” Star yelled. 

The radio flickered between a few channels “...zzzz…Now…Yes sir!...Home…” 

“KWAN DID YOU HEAR THAT! DANNY IS HERE!” 

“STAR THE RADIO IS TOO LOUD!”” Kwan yelled 

“WHAT!” 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD STAR!” Kwan grabbed the radio and turned down the volume. “Does it have to be that loud?” 

“Yes, we have to make sure the ghost can hear it.” 

“Star the ghost is dead, not deaf,” Dash said. “Here Wes grab the radio and let’s do it again.” 

“Why me?”

“Because you saw the ghost, maybe it left some ghost trace on you that will make the radio work better.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works but whatever,” Wes took the radio from Kwan. “Hey Danny, are you here?” 

The radio flickered, “zzz…YES sir you are getting …. Yes … hello…zzz” 

“Omg did you hear it! He said yes! Quick, someone ask him another question!” Star began to jump with joy. 

“Danny, how old are you?” Paulina asked. 

“zzz…Now for the low price of nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine…zzz”

“Danny, how did you die?” Dash asked. 

“zzz… Supernatural … GHOST! … Home … Man … zzz” 

“What does that mean?” Dash said. 

“I don’t know. Danny, can you try again, we don’t understand?” Paulina said. 

“Zzz… Ghostly ghouls .. you are now entering … ghost! … Twilight Zone …” 

“Did you guys understand that? Paulina said. 

“Nope.” 

“No.” 

“Something about ghosts?” 

“Nah. Try something else, like where did he die?” Wes said. 

“Danny, where did you die?” Paulina asked the box once more. 

“Zzz… deep down below … Dad’s workshop … she opened the basement door … AHHH! ..zzz” 

“It sounds like it was in the basement?’ Wes said. 

“I don’t wanna walk through that carpet again, it’s so gross.” Star said. 

“You don't have much of a choice Star,” Dash said. 

“Here Babe, I’ll carry you,” Kwan scooped her sup in his arms. 

“Awww! Thank you Babe!” 

Paulina looked to Dash. “What?” Dash said. 

“Nothing,” Paulina rolled her eyes. 

The basement smelled of rot and decay, and like Danny’s room it was filled with stuff. Parts of the room had a strange green glow to it. It wasn't bright enough to illuminate anything, but when Wes moved his flashlight he could see it was emitting some light. 

“Okay Danny, what happened here?” Wes asked. 

“Zzz.. Zone … just turn it on and … bright lights of the city … hole deep below…zzz”

“Did you turn one of your parents' experiments on?” Star asked, her arms wrapped around Kwan’s neck. 

“Zzz.. yes.. Pain.. lights … AHHH!...zzz” 

“Omg! Kwan did you hear that?” 

“Yeah, poor Danny.” 

“Danny, why haven’t you left yet?” Wes asked the box. 

“Zzz … Mommy … Daddy … Jazz ha- … alone … zzz” 

“Oh Danny,” Paulina sounded like she was about to start crying soon. 

“Danny, your parents left. Why don’t you follow them?” Wes asked. 

“Wes! You can’t just ask a ghost that?” Star said. 

“Why not?”

“Ghosts are stuck where they die, Danny can’t leave.” 

The radio box sprung to life once again, “zzz… no! … he’s stuck in quicksand … Mommy! …zzz”

“Well can we do anything?” Wes asked Star. 

“We can help him pass on, usually you just have to find out what killed them or tell a relative some dark secret or something. My Mom was telling me that ghosts only stay behind when they have unfinished business.” 

“Okay kid, what do you want?” Dash asked. 

“Zzz… Mommy and Daddy … Jazz hands … Okay! Okay! Okay! … Love you! … zzz” 

“Uhhh kid, we don't know where your parents are, can we do something else?” Dash said. 

“Dash! Don’t be so mean,” Paulina shouted. 

“What, it’s the truth, nobody knows where the Fentons moved to. Plus I heard that the Dad was thrown in prison for child endangerment anyways. We can’t bust him out of prison,” 

The radio box flew out of Wes’s hands, the volume rising as the box did. 

“zzz… Mommy! DADDY! MOMMY! DADDY! … zzz” Junk started flying around them, slamming against the walls and trying to slam against them. 

“Oh shit! Run!” Dash shoved Wes out of the way and b-lined it to the door. Paulina grabbed Wes and they followed Kwan up the stairs. The floor rocking as they ran through the water and mold. Wes slammed the door shut behind them and kept running with the others into the night. He looked behind once to see a pair of eyes watching them.

[five-rivers]

Angelus

For @gamma-radio-dp and @kiinotasha

.

It had been a long time since the last truly quiet night in Amity Park, the last night when the skies were empty of anything but clouds and no alarms, sirens, or ectoplasmic zings filled the air, the last night when all its residents were able to sleep deeply, without it being a ghostly plot.  They took advantage of it and enjoyed it immensely.  

But when they woke up, they had to wonder if they shouldn’t have been at least a little suspicious.

.

Danny had a habit of looking up when he went outside.  This was mostly because of ghost attacks, but also because people looking to mess with the ‘local crackpots’ (or just Danny) used to rig pranks to the door (which had, incidentally, fueled Jack’s tendency to answer the door with a ectogun in hand and blame random things on ghosts).

This meant that he saw the… thing almost immediately.  

He took several steps back.  “What is that?” 

“A ghost?” called Jack from the kitchen.  

“Uh,” said Danny, eyes still fixed on the sky.  “No.”  No, he was fairly certain what he was looking at wasn’t a ghost.  Yes, it was out of range of his ghost sense, but he was still, somehow, absolutely sure it was not a ghost.  Or a half ghost, for that matter, although that thought was ridiculous on the surface of it.  

No.  It wasn’t a ghost.  

Still.  

“You guys had better come see this.”

.

The thing in the sky over Amity Park was huge.  So big it was hard to really comprehend as a thing that was actually there.  It didn’t look real, and not in the way that ghosts sometimes didn’t look real, lacking substance and texture, but more because of the way its edges were sharp but faded from distance, from the way it hung suspended in the air, from its detailing.  

As for its shape…  It was roughly humanoid, with giant feathered white wings alternately wrapped around itself and spread wide.  From Danny’s perspective, he could count at least six, but he thought there might be more.  The rest of its body was covered with a kind of armor that included a featureless mask.  Something like horns spiraled from its helm.  

It was upside down.  Head pointed at Amity Park.

Distantly, Danny could hear people shouting about the apocalypse, shouting about angels and demons and the end of things, shouting about ghosts and about how this was just too much.  

Danny rather agreed with that last one.  This was too much.  

“--the figure in the sky appeared sometime last night, between the hours of two and four AM,” said the TV.  “No one is sure how it arrived, and we have yet to receive any reports of a person seeing it arrive.  Thus far, it hasn’t made any aggressive moves or attempts to communicate.”

He walked back to the couch and sat down.  Jack and Maddie were in the kitchen arguing about whether or not and how to shoot the thing.  Apparently, something the size of a mountain gave even them pause.  

The ticker at the bottom of the TV screen read out the names of schools that had canceled classes.  He watched the band go across rather dispiritedly.  

Danny had done a lot of things for this town.  Vortex, Undergrowth, Nocturne, and Pariah Dark had all been really big, but they’d been, at most, skyscraper big. 

This was a lot bigger, and it wasn’t even a ghost.  

Really, it was too much.

Jazz sat down next to him.  “I was worried you’d sneak out.”

“Still might,” mumbled Danny.  “Just.  You know.  To go up there and see what it wants.”

“You think it wants something?”

“It’s got to, right?”

“Hm,” said Jazz.  “I suppose.  It could also just… be there.  Passing through.”

Danny gave her a look.  “I’m not going to be picking a fight with something that could level the whole town just by falling.  It could probably crush all of downtown with its foot.”  He slouched down.  “Maybe I should just leave it alone.”

“Sadly,” said Jazz, “if you don’t do something, someone else will.”  She tilted her head at the kitchen significantly.  “You know what they’re like, and you know what the GIW are like.  Plus, they have those hovercraft things.  I’m not saying you have to do anything.  I’d actually like it if you didn’t, but…”

But then he’d have to live with the results.  Overall, Danny was action-oriented.  He preferred to do something rather than to not do something.  

“I guess there’s Vlad, too,” said Danny.  “Even as a human, he’s got those helicopters.”

“He’d probably work with you on this,” said Jazz.  

“Yeah, and then he’d ditch me as soon as it got too hard for him.  That’s what he always does.”  He stood up.  “Cover for me?” 

“Always.”

.

As Danny got closer, the thing in the sky got bigger and bigger.  Which was, of course, how perspective worked, but Danny had been hoping it had been closer than it looked and, thus, smaller.  But it was, in fact, farther away than it looked.  

Danny thought this was unfair.  

With his eyes fixed on it as his destination, he also saw how still it was.  It didn’t move or breathe.  The wind didn’t ruffle its feathers.  It added to the air of unreality.  

Speaking of the air, it was also… humming.  No, that was the wrong word for it, but it certainly had some similarities to sound, whatever it was.  An energy that wasn’t physical, but also wasn’t emotion or ectoplasm or anything like that.  

He stopped.  

He was probably within shouting distance now, right?  Assuming this could even hear him.  His voice might be too quiet to make its eardrums vibrate, assuming it had eardrums.  

“HELLO,” he called, the faintest touch of his ghostly wail leaking in.  He paused, waiting to see if there was a response.  

There wasn’t.  At least, there wasn’t a physical, visible response.  Whatever feeling was in the air intensified.  Danny felt uncomfortably aware of his own skin.  Between his back started to itch to the point where he looked around to see if there was anyone behind him.  

There wasn’t.  

He turned back.  

“WE WERE WONDERING WHAT YOU WANTED.”  He paused again, more from uncertainty than anything else.  “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

This time, there was movement.  Movement that looked agonizingly slow, but only by virtue of how big the thing was.  Two of its wings unfurled, freeing a hand that pointed down.  

At the city?

Danny looked down, trying to determine if it meant the city in general, or if it was pointing at some specific building or–

But then the sensation spilling over his body became too much to ignore, and he curled in on himself, his gloves the only things keeping him from digging furrows into his back.  What was this, some kind of supernatural radiation?

Oh, gosh, this was some kind of supernatural radiation.  He should probably leave, like, right now.

He should be flying away right now.  

Why wasn’t he flying away?

He looked up.  

The other thing the hand could possibly be pointing at was him.  

His eyes rolled back in his head.  

.

Phantom’s approach was, of course, filmed and broadcasted.  Vlad watched.  No need to put himself at risk when the boy was perfectly willing to do it for him.  

He watched the tiny, blurry picture of Phantom come to a stop, then seem to shout at the angel-like figure.  He watched as Phantom curled into a tiny ball, then went limp.  

He watched as Phantom fell. 

“Fudge buckets.”  A fall from that height would be unpleasant even if Daniel managed to keep hold of his ghost half.  

If he didn’t…

Vlad was phasing through his ceiling before the wine glass he’d been holding hit the floor.  

.

The eyes of Amity Park were on Phantom as he fell.  Perhaps that’s why no one immediately noticed the giant creature that had been hanging over their heads all day simply vanishing.

But perhaps the true reason was something else, something more related to the being’s nature, whatever it had been.  

It was impossible to tell. 

.

Vlad caught Daniel.  It was a near thing, and Vlad wasn’t experienced with catching people falling from the sky at speed, but he did do it, and Daniel’s back didn’t break or anything.  

He would have to count this incident as something to lord over Daniel in the future.  

In the meantime, Daniel was spasming, as if he was having a seizure.  It was remarkably inconvenient, and also troubling, because Vlad hadn’t thought that half ghosts could have seizures while transformed.  

He adjusted his grip on Daniel and noticed–

Pausing mid-air, he turned Daniel over.  There, on Daniel’s back, small but unmistakable, were six snow-white wings. 

[datawyrms]

During a vacation, Danny learns that the ghost stories of the west aren't just stories- and his aunt knows more than she lets on. In fact, she may even know more than Danny’s parents. One last thing for Phic Phight! enjoy a bit of silly :v @imdeadtiredtm

Really, being off in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly Danny’s idea of a great vacation. Mom and dad might think it was the best thing in the world, but he didn’t get the appeal of bugs, dirt and other random biting critters.

At least Aunt Alica’s cabin was cozy enough when they were actually inside. The main problem was when they were outside with all the nothing to do out there. He chased enough things that wanted to punch him back home, he wasn’t going to do it for fun. Not when the ‘smell’ of nature was just kinda bad.

There was one surprising upside. Aunt Alicia was pretty good at getting his parents to follow the ‘no ghost hunting’ rules. Apparently the wild outdoors helped distract them better? Whatever, it gave him a break from hearing what sort of things ghosts should fear if his parents caught them. Which meant he could sit on the porch and peel potatoes with his aunt in relative peace

“Honestly, I’m so tired of those kids and their camcorders running around going ‘oh we’re gonna find me a sasquatch’ or ‘that bigfoot is a big ape’ nonsense.”

“People still believe in that?” Danny raised an eyebrow, a little curious. Even if it was a bit silly to be skeptical when he was a half dead kid that fought ghosts all the time.

“Mmhm. Not totally wrong, but all their sightings? Hogwash.”

“Wait, you believe there’s Sasquatches out there or something?”

“Believe? No, no. I know there’s fuzzy big things out there.”

“Bears?”

She shook her head with a grin. “Nah, not bears. They aren’t apes either.”

Ah. So the weirdness came from mom’s side of the family. Only instead of ghosts, she wanted to find magical big monster things. “Okay, I’ll bite. What are they then? Ghosts?”

“Might be. Nothin like how your parents talk about ghosts like though. Perfectly sensible critters.”

“Oh.So what are they really like then?” Why not. It was more interesting than hearing about outhouse maintenance. 

“No one ever gets the horns. Got these icy sorta things right on their heads!” She paused her peeling to demonstrate with her hands. “Don’t stick around long, but they’re around.”

“Uh. Like yetis with horns, maybe?” She couldn’t possibly mean?

“Sure! Abominable snowmen, yetis, whatever you wanna call em.”

“And you’ve seen them.”

“Talked to em. Friendly enough once they know you aren’t gonna load em full of buckshot.”

He was absolutely staring at her now. Absolutely not. Surely. “So they talk. And you’ve talked to them.”

“Mhm.”

Would he be way too obvious if he asked about them? If he suggested he might know these yetis she just apparently sees up here in nowheresville Arkansas?  “They say anything interesting?”

“Mighta.”

Danny focused back on the potatoes, taking that as enough of a ‘time to stop’ hint as he was going to get from his gruff relative. 

“Aught to tell your fuzzy friends when you go on vacation though. ‘Sonly polite.”

…He totally didn’t drop the peeler.

[ghostboidanny]

Phic Phight 2022 Summary

My first ever phic phight is over and I had so much fun! I'm really looking forward to reading all the phics everyone published this month!

I ended on a total of 48000 words which was waay beyond what I had anticipated. Before the phight started my goal was to reach 5000 words and I totally blew that out of the water. Almost ten fold! I really look forward to doing this again next year! Now onto dannymay and the invisobang! (Though I might need a short break after all this writing XD)

Here's a list of all the phics (and memes) I did for this phight, so they're all in one place:

You should see me in a crown

Ao3 Tumblr Memes

Danny might have been the one to fight Pariah Dark, but by locking the old King away again, Vlad earned an equal right to the throne as Danny. Vlad has now decided it's time for them to fight for the right to the throne. Except, Clockwork likes to meddle and Vlad is met with a surprise the day of the duel.

Rapprochement (can I help you not to hurt anymore?)

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Danny revealed he was Phantom to his parents and things went well ... until they didn't. He flees from the dissection table to the one person who can help him right now, Vlad Masters.

A Sister's Love

Ao3 Tumblr part 1 part 2 Memes

Oh no, Danny has been kidnapped! Except … these losers seem to be normal kidnappers without any knowledge of ghosts at all. This is hilarious to him and he’s so busy having his fun with them he doesn't even bother trying to escape. But Jazz doesn't find it nearly as amusing when her little brother goes missing and she would do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Pet allergy

Ao3 Tumblr Memes

After months of ghost attacks, most Amity Parkers were used to strange sights. But the student body of Casper High still paused in whatever they were doing when the day after spring break, Daniel “Danny” Fenton, youngest of the notorious ghost hunting family and famously known for being terrified of ghosts, walked into the school trailed by not one, not two, but five blob ghosts.

The universe works in mysterious ways

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Danny was reborn in a rift in Space and Time. Reborn, and then forced away. Then the ghosts attack and of course he fights them, of course he protects his town. It’s what a good person would do and Danny is a good person. But as time goes on he feels more and more empty inside, until one day it comes to its head.

Danny was never meant to be a hero. Luckily, like recognizes like and Time helps him realize his true purpose.

This is OUR hero

Ao3 Tumblr part 1 part 2 part 3 (in progress) Memes

Danny Phantom’s secret identity is a very well kept secret. Not by Danny Fenton, even though he might believe that. Oh no, that boy is awful at keeping secrets. What with yelling “going ghost” in public places and using ghost abilities constantly. But the people of Amity Park … the people are excellent at keeping his secret for him. And they do not like any outsiders trying to hurt their little hero.

A 5+1 story where different Amity Parkers finds out Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton is one and the same and can't do anything to help him. And then one time they can help him.

Dear child of mine

Ao3 Tumblr Art

Maddie and Jack loved their children dearly. They just also loved their work just as much. Luckily, their children were also very interested in their work, especially their little darling Danny and for the first years of his life, Danny spent long swats of time in the lab with them. When Danny was four they completed their crown jewel, The Fenton portal, but it didn’t work. A curious Danny goes to explore the portal and activates it. Moments later, Clockwork finds a newly dead child crying outside their Lair.

Sisters’ day out

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Dani returns to Amity and this time Danny makes sure to introduce her to Jazz. The two girls decide to go on a fun outing together and by the end of the day, Dani gets much more than just a fun day to remember. She gets a family.

[q-gorgeous]

Emergency Contact

Prompt: A quick search at the phone Phantom dropped after a patrol shows Jazz Fenton as an emergancy contact. Maddie's daughter has some explaining to do. (PR307) by @jewishicequeen

Word Count: 719

ao3

ffn

winding down for phic phight im trying to churn out just a little bit more 41 minutes left

Maddie is chasing Phantom through the streets of Amity Park. He had been doing one of his routine patrols and she finally had it mapped out. She thinks she’s got him for sure this time. She has a new weapon that she thinks will finally get him down so they can capture him. 

She aims her gun at him, taking a moment to pause in her running to shoot. A blast of ectoplasm shoots out towards him and hits him in the stomach. His flight falters and something falls from him towards the ground before he straightens himself out and continues flying away. 

Maddie walks up to where whatever Phantom dropped is laying, and when she picks it up she’s shocked. 

It’s a phone.

How in the world would Phantom have gotten a phone? And why would he need one? Did he steal it?

She turns it over and sees that there’s a crack going across the screen. It must’ve broken when it hit the ground. She presses the power button and when the screen turns on her brows draw down. 

The lock screen is a picture of Phantom and Danny’s two friends. 

She opens the phone and starts looking through it. Phantom doesn’t have many contacts. She sees Sam, Tucker, someone called fruit loop? And as she keeps scrolling she sees a contact that says ‘very annoying/ghost getter’. She clicks on it and in the notes it says ‘Jazz Fenton’. At the bottom of the contact profile it says she’s an emergency contact.

Maddie’s blood starts to boil. She could understand Sam and Tucker not knowing better, although they’ve been around the Fenton’s enough by now to have sat in on some lessons and explanations on how ghosts and their weapons work. But Jazz?

They had taught their kids that ghosts are evil and not to be trusted. They raised them better than this. Jazz should know better than this. Why would Jazz of all people be Phantom’s emergency contact?

Maddie shakes it off for now. This is a conversation she would have to have with Jazz later. She could explain herself then. For now, she needed to find Phantom. That was a pretty nasty shot she hit him with. He couldn’t have gotten far. 

She pulls her tracker out and turns it on. It starts beeping and she begins walking in the direction the arrow is pointing in on her screen. When the little dot appears, she stops for a moment. When it doesn’t seem to move for a few moments, Maddie continues walking. 

It seems like Phantom thinks he’s found a place to hide. 

She turns into a dead end alley and when she walks into it, she sees Phantom sitting at the end of it, his back is against the wall and his hands were pressed against his stomach. He appears to be losing a lot of ectoplasm. She pulls up her weapon, charging it for her next shot.

At the sound, Phantom’s head shoots up. His eyes meet her own and they widen in fear. 

Suddenly a white ring appears around Phantom’s waist. She pauses, unsure of what this could be, in case it was a new attack Phantom had. 

“What is that?” She shouts.

“No, no, no.” He says, ignoring her. “Not now.”

Phantom’s face is screwed up in pain and concentration, his eyes squeezed shut. He forces the rings to disappear and Maddie cocks a brow at that. What could that be if it wasn’t an attack? And why didn’t he want it to happen?

Maddie watches as Phantom clearly struggles to keep whatever those rings are at bay. He leans his head back against the bricks, staring up at the sky, like it was taking everything out of him to keep them away. But soon they appear again and he can’t stop them this time. His eyes fall shut and when the rings travel over his body, his jumpsuit disappears and the ectoplasm covering his stomach starts turning red. White hair turns to black and when tired eyes open again and look at her in fear her breath is taken away. She drops her weapon and covers her mouth with one hand. 

Sitting on the ground in front of her is her son. 

That’s why Jazz is Phantom’s emergency contact.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - THE AS SEEN ON TV TOWN

For: @wisecrownvoid

Boy howdy listener/watcher/reader, have I got an offer for you! Tune in to get the lowdown one everything Amity Park might have to offer you!

So you’re bored? Got nothing to do? No place or body to terrorise? Well come on by Amity Park! Lair of Phantom and of the only humans who realise we exist!

Need incentive? Why there’s a doorway directly there just within the BarenLands, and its permanent and always open! So don’t you worry about getting stuck amongst the living, running low on ecto-energy, or just being inescapably bothered by their living ways!

And with the residents knowing about ghosts they won’t right you off as just an hallucination! Or trick of the light! No! They will know to fear you and FLEE! UnlessyouaretheBoxyGhost

But even if you just want a leisurely stroll in the living world! Fear not! While those silly living know to fear us, they only will if you threaten them!

In fact, many of them have made pets of the local ecto-fauna! Why just look at this little old weak frail living creature and how he’s giving frequent Amity Park visitor Johnny thirteen some change for a coffee! Even Cujo, Phantom’s vicious puppy, can be frequently found for lots of happy pats and fetch!

But now what if you’re actually looking for a fight? Why Amity’s got you covered whether you want a true green fisticuffs throw down or just harass the Zone out of someone trying their little living heart out to destroy you! The local ghost hunters couldn’t catch a fly but they will put on one Hell of a show! Happily barging through entire walls and always coming up with new and crazy inventions! Who knows! You might be really lucky like Skulker and get to have a shrunken adventure!

Now for those wanting a real fight, look no farther than Danny Phantom. He is the definition of combative and will come fists blazing! But be prepared to be bested and stuffed inside a thermos! But! That’s all part of the experience of a genuine Phantom fight! A beloved past time of many! And! It’s a very easy trip home. UnlessyouaretheBoxGhostandPhantomisannoyedwithyouLivedExperienceEntertainmentisnotresponsibleforyoubeingburiedinabackyardforfivehours.

Still not sold yet?!? Well let me let you in on a little secret, there isn’t a living or half dead being there that isn’t easily distracted; you can absolutely get away with doing whatever you want so long as you’re careful. Besides! Who doesn’t love a little trickery and sneaking around! A bad ghost! That’s who!

So come on down to Lived Experience Entertainment, located by the hulking mass of carnivorous feathers, and get yourself a guide for your getaway to Amity Park; ghost central of the mortal realm!

Weofferplansfromonehourtotwoweekscheckusoutformoredetails.

…

Danny blinks, leaning back a little as the weird jester-looking man disappeared from the screencast. “You… you have to be fucking kidding me”.

End.

Prompt: Amity Park is seen as a Ghost vacation hotspot. The citizens all know ghosts are real and most of the ghost hunters are harmless, you get to 1 v 1 a fourteen year old, free transport back to the ghost zone in relative comfort if you lose, and you can enact your evil plan to take over the world for like a good week before getting noticed if your subtle enough.

[animationadventures]

For @autisticghostkids‘ prompt:  "Something inside the Foley household keeps making awful thumping/knocking noises. Tucker and/or his parents investigate."

Mystery Noise

Thump!

Tucker and his parents were in the living room, each on their own devices. Tucker was playing a video game, Maurice was watching a sports game, and Angela was on her computer doing extra work. None of them reacted to the noise, thinking it was just the house creaking as it did once in a while.

Thump!

After hearing the noise a second time so soon after the first, they looked away from their screens to glance at each other.

Thump-thump!

“What is that?” Tucker asked. Since he was often out with Danny and Sam or too busy on his electronics, he didn’t know much about their house’s problems.

“It sounds like something is moving around upstairs, but what could it be?” Maurice shared a grim expression with his wife. “If it was something like a mouse, I could understand but it wouldn’t make that much noise.”

Angela cringed. “I hope it’s not a bat. Having ghosts around town is bad enough already.”

Thump!

Clunk!

“That’s it, I’m getting a rolling pin.” Putting her computer aside, Angela got off the couch and went into the kitchen.

Maurice and Tucker both rose from their seats as well. “Get me the frying pan while you’re in there,” Maurice said as he and his son went over to the stairs.

Angela met them there, handing her husband the requested pan while she held the pin. Not wanting to be left without a weapon, Tucker quickly returned to the living room to grab a heavy-looking book. The family of three cautiously ascended the stairs, hearing another noise as they went. At the top of the stairs, they stopped to listen and figure out which direction it was coming from. The only rooms up there were the bathroom, Tucker’s bedroom, the parents’ bedroom, and the closet if you counted that as a room.

Thump-thump!

Clunk!

“It sounds like it’s coming from Tucker’s room,” Maurice said, looking in the direction of his son’s room.

Tucker tensed alarmingly. “My room?! My stuff!”

Cautiously, the three Foleys approached his door with their weapons ready. Taking the lead, Angela grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open.

They were prepared for a mouse. A bat. Or something else relatively normal.

They were not prepared for a little, green dog running around Tucker’s room, playing with what appeared to be a dog toy. Evidently, it was his running around that was making the noise considering a bunch of Tucker’s things were knocked over in some way.

“Cujo?!” Tucker couldn’t help exclaiming.

The canine stopped playing, ears pricking up at the sound of his name. He looked over at the door, and began barking and panting excitedly. The puppy dropped his toy and charged at Tucker.

The Foleys yelped as Cujo pounced on Tucker, knocking him down onto the hallway floor.

“H-hey! Get off me, boy! Get off!” Tucker tried to stop himself from laughing at the constant licking and slobber from the dog.

Maurice and Angela stared at their son, stunned. “Tucker, you know this dog?” Maurice questioned, glancing back in his room. “How’d that dog even get up here?”

“What an unusual fur color…” Angela observed as Tucker finally managed to sit upright and get Cujo to stop. Something in Angela’s brain clicked and she sighed. “Green fur…? Don’t tell me it’s a ghost.”

“He kinda is. Remember that attack at Axion Labs that cost Valerie’s dad his job?” Tucker said, scratching under Cujo’s chin. “That was all this little guy.”

Maurice raised an eyebrow. “He did that? Hmm, if he’s a ghost, that would explain how he got up here without touching the first floor…”

“But that doesn’t explain how you know him, or how HE knows YOU,” Angela pointed out.

Tucker stood, holding Cujo in his arms. “Well, that’s a bit complicated. You see-.”

Before Tucker could try to come up with a cover story, none other than Phantom himself phased into Tucker’s bedroom from outside. The ghost hero looked around. “Cujo? Here, boy…” He trailed off upon seeing the Foleys all looking at him. Chuckling awkwardly, he raised a hand in greeting. “Hi there?”

Cujo started yipping happily again, and squirmed out of Tucker’s arms to scamper over to his master. Phantom touched down on the floor and kneeled to gather his pet.

“Sorry if he was any trouble,” Phantom apologized to the Foleys. He threw an exasperated gaze down at his dog. “Really, Cujo? I told you to go hide while I fought Skulker, and this is where you chose to hide?”

“To be honest, he wasn’t doing much hiding,” Tucker quipped, folding his arms and pointing at the mess Cujo had made.

Phantom finally noticed how untidy the room was, and winced. “Sorry about that. Dogs, what are you going to do?” He shrugged sheepishly. “I’ll just take Cujo and get out of here. Sorry for the disruption.” Holding his pet close, he flew out of the bedroom.

The Foley family stood in the doorway, blankly gawking at where the ghost hero and his dog vanished. Tucker broke the silence, and started going around his room to pick up his stuff and get everything back in order.

His parents stayed by the doorway, exchanging puzzled gazes.

“Since when does Phantom have a dog?” Maurice asked his wife.

The End

[darthfrodophantom]

Alone in the Ghost Zone (with You) - Chapter 1

Summary: Danny wakes up tied up and abandoned in the Ghost Zone with no memory of how he got there, but his quick ideas for an escape are complicated by the presence of Jazz and his parents. With no idea which ghost kidnapped him or even where he is in the Ghost Zone, he has to work with his parents to navigate the perils of the Ghost Zone, but can he escape with his family and secret still intact?

Well, originally this idea was going to be my attempt at writing a longfic for Phic Phight instead of the oneshots I’ve been doing since I came back. I’d planned to submit all 4 of these chapters during Phic Phight but…that clearly didn’t happen. I was lucky to finish this one in time!

I’ve been wanting to do a “field trip to the Ghost Zone” for a long time, and this prompt was the perfect excuse! Please ignore some of my attempts at making the Ghost Zone scientifically make sense (seriously, we know so little about the science behind Ghost Zone it’s awesome and frustrating at the same time). This is my first time actually spending a lot of time in the Ghost Zone, so don’t mind me as I figure out some of my own headcanons about the place as I go!

I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Danny wakes up on a small floating island in the middle of the Zone. The last thing he remembers is sitting down to eat dinner with his parents and his sister. How did he get here? (PR115) - for @idiot-onion

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38711061/chapters/96789075

Chapter 1: Otherness

Danny’s vision swam sickeningly as soon as he opened his eyes. He shut them immediately, but he could still feel the vertigo mixed with nausea impact even the black behind his eyelids. His head pounded sharply behind his eyebrows and his body felt stiff and unresponsive. What happened? Dinner hadn’t been that bad.

The longer he kept his eyes closed, the better his nausea felt, but he did not like how stiff he felt. Almost like he couldn’t move. He tried to open his eyes again, but everything still spun around him.

No…the world wasn’t spinning, it was swirling. Sickeningly green swirls that shifted and glowed.

Ghost Zone.

He was in the Ghost Zone.

Panic flooded his body because he couldn’t remember going into the Ghost Zone. He had been…wait what had he been doing? Why did his head hurt so much every time he tried to think about what he did right before waking up? He was…dinner. He was eating dinner in his kitchen. So how did he get into the Ghost Zone?

He tried to move, to get a better look at his surroundings, but he could feel something stopping him, trapping him. He could feel the hard chill of metal along his back, and he noticed he was resting in some kind of metal pod. He finally looked down and saw bindings across his chest, arms, abdomen, and legs. He also noticed jeans and a t-shirt, which meant he wasn’t in his ghost form. That made no sense. He wouldn’t have gone into the Ghost Zone in his human form. Something was wrong.

He struggled against the secure bonds, but they held him tight and he could barely budge. He didn’t like this. He remembered eating dinner and now he was tied up into some strange contraption as a human in an unfamiliar part of the Ghost Zone with no memory of how that happened. He still couldn’t think through that fog without a sharp pain behind his eyebrows and a churn of nausea in his gut.

Being a human in the Ghost Zone just felt…wrong. It left him vulnerable and on edge, and he didn’t like it. He could also feel this pull, like the ghostly parts of him knew that he should be a ghost right now. Almost like he didn’t belong as a human in this world, but he could belong as a ghost. He noticed it the few occasions he’d ventured into the Ghost Zone as a human, but for some reason that feeling of ‘otherness’ as a human felt even more pronounced now. Well, no point in staying human, not when his ghost form gave him a better chance to escape and protect himself. He pulled on that strong push to be a ghost, and the bright rings of light formed around his waist.

“Danny!” he heard a voice hiss in warning off to his side. “No.”

He immediately stopped the transformation and the rings disappeared. That voice…it almost sounded like…

“Mom, Dad, are you awake?” the voice - Jazz’s voice - called out in a suspiciously loud timber. Mom and Dad. Oh no.

He craned his neck out of the pod as much as he could to see three other pods to his right. He could barely make out the bright orange spandex of his dad’s jumpsuit. His whole family was here, trapped in the same pods as him. That complicated things. That complicated things a lot. If it was just himself or just himself and Jazz, he could transform and fly them out of there no problem. But trying to get everyone out of the Ghost Zone with his parents here…this was going to be difficult. He’d have to play this very, very safe. Thank god Jazz warned him.

Jack and Maddie groaned as Jazz’s call shook them awake. Jack’s large frame shifted in his pod. “Wha—?” Jack asked, his voice slurred and groggy. “Where’s my dinner?”

“Where-where are we?” Maddie questioned. He could hear his mom’s pod shift and creak as she tried to get a good look around her. “This place doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before. And the air has an odd taste like…like citrus. Almost like–” She gasped loudly. “Are we in the Ghost Zone?!” she shrieked.

“Now now Mads, calm down,” Jack comforted, though Danny could tell it didn’t work well since he could hear his mom struggling to escape. “That’s just silly talk! We all know the Ghost Zone isn’t safe for humans. So we can’t possibly be in the–” His dad stopped talking as all four of them noticed a large serpentine ghost slither through the swirling sky in the distance. “Well, guess we’re in the Ghost Zone.” Jack deadpanned.

Danny could feel the tension emanating from his parents’ direction. He could feel them freaking out without even needing to see them. They had run so many tests on the Ghost Zone through the portal to determine if the place was safe, and despite their curiosity they still couldn’t decide whether it was safe enough to venture inside. What they didn’t know was the portal itself messed with their readings, but it wasn’t like he had ever been able to explain that to them.

“How are we supposed to breathe?” Maddie cried out. “We never confirmed there was oxygen in here!”

“Well we’re talking right now so–” Jack tried to reason, but Maddie cut him off.

“What about radiation? Ecto-contamination? Temperature control and regulation? Hazardous fumes?”

“I don’t know Mads but–”

“Jack, are we ghosts?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupted loudly, which finally stunned his parents into silence. This had gone far enough. If any of them were going to get out of here, he needed his parents to calm down and start thinking clearly. “Can you both stop freaking out for five minutes and realize we all seem to be okay?”

He’d get his parents calmed down, find a way to convince them the Ghost Zone was safe, and then they could start working together to–

“Danny?!” his mom shrieked in alarm. “You’re here too?” She craned her head out of the pod to see the three other pods that held her family. “And Jazz too! Jack, our children are in danger!”

Well, that didn’t turn out the way he’d hoped.

“Kids, are you okay?” Jack asked, and even though he tried to sound strong, Danny could hear worry creep into his voice.

“We’re fine,” Jazz assured them. “I’ve been awake for a few minutes and other than feeling a little groggy I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Maddie pressed. “Are you feeling any nausea? Headache? Confusion? Burning of your eyes or your throat? Dizziness? Fever - don’t know how you’ll check that one tied up in a pod but–”

“Mom! I need you to pull yourself together!” Danny yelled. His tone was almost a little too demanding, and honestly sounded more like something he would say as Phantom. He’d have to be careful of that. That transition to his Phantom persona was a little too natural, though it probably had something to do with being in the Ghost Zone. “We’re fine. We’re going to be fine. Aside from being full of ghosts, the Ghost Zone is safe for humans.”

“Danny…” Jazz muttered in warning.

“What do you mean the Ghost Zone is safe?” Jack asked. “We’ve never told either of you that.”

“I uh, may have figured it out on my own?” Danny tried. He knew it was safe. He’d done all the necessary checks after Tucker and Sam ended up in the Ghost Zone the first time. He used all his parents’ devices and the Specter Speeder to make sure that it would be safe for Tucker and Sam to return in the future. As far as they could tell with their rising ectology knowledge, the Ghost Zone didn’t pose any greater threat to humans.

“And how is that young man?” Maddie asked sternly.

Danny licked his lips nervously. “Tucker, Sam, and I may…have fallen in here at some point,” he said in a rush as the last few words all blended together. He could almost feel Jazz shake her head with disapproval.

“You what?!” Jack and Maddie cried out in unison.

“It was an accident!” Danny defended.

“And you never told us?” Maddie asked.

“Because we knew we’d be in trouble! But we didn’t do it on purpose!” Danny insisted. And really…the first time it was an accident, so he wasn’t lying all that much. “We were playing around in the Specter Speeder - I know, we’re not supposed to - and then next thing we know something activated and it surged forward into the Ghost Zone. But the speeder got all kinds of data while we were in there - no radiation or contamination or anything hazardous. It’s fine.”

“But…wait, the instruments on the speeder haven’t ever shown any kind of readings,” Jack pointed out.

“Well…I may have had Tucker wipe it so you wouldn’t find out,” Danny admitted as he bit his lip. Actually, they’d saved and wiped the data many times. They amassed a large amount of data on how the Ghost Zone changed (or more accurately, didn’t) over time. His parents would kill for that data…which is exactly what he was afraid of.

“Daniel James Fenton, you are going to be grounded when we get back home!” Maddie threatened, and Danny winced from her tone. “And that’s just to start!”

“Shouldn’t it count for something that I risked being in trouble to tell you this right now?” he tried.

“No,” his parents both said firmly.

“Worth a shot,” Jazz murmured to Danny.

“Well, you can’t ground me while I’m stuck in the Ghost Zone,” Danny quipped. “So, how about you just trust me that it’s safe and instead of panicking about why we’re safe, we figure out how we ended up here and how we get out.” Maybe keeping his mom’s mind on something else would help calm her down. He knew this wasn’t an ideal scenario, but his mom usually had a cooler head than this. He remembered when Vlad orchestrated the plane crash in the mountains, and she leapt to action and knew exactly what to do. Something about being in the Ghost Zone was making her more anxious than usual and it was a bit unsettling.

“No, you’re right,” Maddie sighed. “Whether it’s safe or not doesn’t really matter if we can’t get out of these pods or figure out how to get out. Jack, help me inspect these things we’re trapped in.”

Danny could hear his parents talking about the metal of the pod and any structural weaknesses (he was pretty sure he heard his sister exclaim in disgust that their father licked the metal casing to determine what type of metal it was), but he wasn’t really paying attention. He knew he should be keeping a better focus on his parents, especially when he was a half-ghost pretending to deny the ghostly part of him while he was surrounded by ghosts, but something about the bindings bothered him.

The leather bindings didn’t glow. Why weren’t they glowing? Anything ghost-proofed would glow in the presence of a ghost, and any ghost who orchestrated this would know who he was. These were real-world objects, which meant they were brought here special for them…so why weren’t they built to keep him in? And if he wasn’t trapped in a ghost-proofed prison then… He risked turning his hand intangible and pulled it cleanly through one of the bindings. No shocks. No barriers. No pain. That was…easy. Almost too easy.

He pulled his other hand free and got to work on releasing the other bindings. He traced the leather straps to find a latch on the metal base and unhooked it. They were simple, almost too simple, but they would be impossible to undo without a free hand. He could have phased through all of them, but his parents might see and he needed to make it look like he escaped normally.

He stepped free from his prison and finally got a good look around him. The four pods containing him and his family stood in the middle of a small rock that was barely large enough to hold all of them. He didn’t notice any other indication that this rock belonged in the lair of another ghost and he didn’t get the sense of trespassing he usually did once he strayed into another ghost’s lair. Which meant either they were in an unclaimed part of the Ghost Zone, or he wasn’t trespassing and was actually wanted here…

He looked at the rest of the Ghost Zone behind him as he tried to pinpoint where they were. He’d spent so many hours mapping the Ghost Zone and trying to find familiar monuments and way points so he could navigate the maze that was the Ghost Zone, but nothing here looked familiar. Since he couldn’t recognize anything, he had a couple guesses where they could be, but guesses weren’t helpful right now.

He caught Jazz’s eye and she looked at him in panic. She mouthed something to him, but he couldn’t figure it out. He never learned to lip read! She should know that! “Jazz I don’t know what you’re saying,” he said. Jazz threw her head back against the metal pod in frustration while Jack and Maddie turned to look at their children.

“What? Danny? How did you get free?” Maddie asked, her voice tinged with suspicion and shock.

Oh, that’s what Jazz must have been trying to warn him about. Well, they’d have to find out some time if he was going to get them out. “Oh, they must have gotten lazy when they tied me up,” he lied. God, those lies just came so easy. “Managed to get one hand free.”

“That’s my Danny!” Jack boasted. Jazz just groaned.

He walked over to his mom and unhooked the bindings around her wrists. He could feel her suspicious glare on him and he shuffled his foot nervously as he worked. “That’s pretty convenient,” she said.

Danny shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well maybe whoever trapped us here wanted us to get out? See what we would do?” he suggested as he moved over to free his dad’s wrists. “Either way, we should take advantage of it.”

“You know, that does sound like something Phantom would do,” Maddie remarked.

Danny rolled his eyes and ignored both his parents as they talked about how the “dastardly and devious Phantom” could absolutely rig this. Instead he moved over to Jazz’s pod and helped release her bindings.

“That was reckless Danny,” Jazz warned in a whisper.

“Yeah, well we had to get out of these somehow, and I didn’t hear the wonder twins over there coming up with any better suggestions,” Danny retorted as he moved down to help Jazz free her feet while she worked on the ones on her chest.

“You’ve got to be careful about showing off while you’re in here with them,” she advised him.

“Showing off?” Danny asked. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. That was a weird choice of words.

Jazz groaned. “You know what I mean. Keep your powers and mention of anything you know about the Ghost Zone at a minimum.”

“Uh duh, thank you Captain Obvious,” Danny snapped.

“I’m just trying to help,” Jazz assured him. “I know you’re not used to being a human in the Ghost Zone, and it’s going to be tempting to use your powers or knowledge, but just…be careful in how you do it or Mom and Dad are going to find out.”

Man, even Jazz was picking up on how strange it felt to be stuck as a human in here. Was he just radiating that energy? Would his parents pick up on it? Maybe she was right, maybe he did need to be more careful…

“Would you look at this place…” Maddie breathed as she finally took in her surroundings. Danny thought she would make herself dizzy the way she spun around looking at the swirling mess of the Ghost Zone. “Jack, do you think these clouds are meant to resemble some kind of atmosphere?”

Jack stopped examining the ground and looked up at the clouds as he stroked his chin in thought. “Hmm, looks like. Could be that–”

“It must be why the air tastes like ectoplasm,” Maddie continued, interrupting Jack as soon as he confirmed her hypothesis. A flash of irritation crossed over Jack’s face before he focused on examining the rock beneath them again. “This realm must be full of aerosolized ectoplasm. Maybe it’s suspended in oxygen and/or nitrogen, which is why we can breathe, though why it would need to do that makes no sense because ghosts don’t breathe,” she pondered as she paced across the small rock. “Unless aerosolizing it helps with the ambient absorption of the ectoplasm around them to help rejuvenate and heal them. Jack we need to study this and–”

“And figure out how to get out of here,” Danny snapped. “Look, Mom, I’m sure this is exciting for you and all, but honestly, we don’t care how it works. We just want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Danny’s got a point,” Jazz agreed.

Maddie sighed as her shoulders sagged. “You’re right. It was probably just an incorrect theory anyways. But you’re right, we need to focus on getting out of here.”

“Well then, let’s find a way off this rock!” Jack suggested as he pumped a fist into the air.

“Not yet Jack!” Maddie disagreed, and Jack visibly deflated. “We need to see what resources we have first. What does everyone have on them?”

The Fenton family rummaged through their pockets. Danny didn’t really have much to report; he never kept much in his pockets. Of course his real resource wasn’t found in any pocket. His ghost powers could get them out of here in a snap, but that was a resource they unfortunately wouldn’t be able to tap into, not unless he could separate himself from his parents, and that wasn’t going to happen. He had a feeling whatever ghost orchestrated this knew that too, and specifically brought his parents to be a foil to his ghost powers. Well if that was the plan, it was working.

Danny did find his cell phone in his pocket, and while he knew it wouldn’t work in here, it might be able to provide useful context. The internal clock on the phone still worked in the Ghost Zone, which meant that they’d been knocked out for about two hours based on when he knew he sat down to dinner. He unlocked his phone and noticed he was halfway through typing a text to Sam and Tucker when he must have stopped using his phone. Sadly the text didn’t say anything helpful like “It’s Skulker, send help!” or any clues like that. He had been continuing a conversation about the new Doomed DLC when he stopped. But something happened that made him put the phone back into his pocket and not on the table even though his text wasn’t finished. Something tugged at the back of his mind…something caught his attention and he slid his phone into his pocket so he wasn’t distracted or so it was kept safe, but what was it?

“Danny? Do you have something?” Maddie asked, and he shook himself out of his thoughts. “On your phone?”

“Oh, no. Just no service,” he said as he shook the device. “But if time still works the same way, it’s been about two hours since dinner.” He knew it did, but his parents couldn’t know that he knew that it did.

“I have a pen and a notepad,” Jazz offered as she pulled the pink striped mini-notebook from her pocket.

Danny turned to look at her, his face scrunched up in disbelief. “A notebook? Why the hell do you have a notebook in your pocket?”

“Language,” his father warned, but Danny just rolled his eyes.

“You never know when you might need to take notes,” she explained with a satisfied smile.

Danny opened his mouth to argue but his mom cut him off. “Well it looks like most of our weapons are gone. I know we had some on us at dinner because we’d just gotten back from hunting Phantom.” Danny subtly slid his hand to his ribs where he could still feel the tender sting of the ectoblast they grazed him with earlier. “So whoever kidnapped us must have taken them.”

“But they didn’t find this baby!” Jack boasted as he held up the handle of what Danny immediately recognized as the Jack o’ Nine Tails.

“I do not want to know where you hid that,” Danny grimaced.

“Oh grow up Danny,” Jazz groaned.

“They didn’t grab this one either,” Maddie commented as she held up the handle of her double-bladed ecto-sword. “I had it on my belt under a ghost-proof latch, which confirms a ghost took us.”

“So we have two ghost weapons (one more useful than another), a notepad and pen, and a useless phone?” Jazz summarized. “And no food or water? That’s not much to go on.”

“And our knowledge of ghosts!” Jack offered.

“That’s still not much to go on,” Jazz said, and Jack’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Alright, let’s take a closer look at those weapons.”

While Jazz convened with her parents to inspect some of the inner workings of the weapons, Danny walked to the edge of the small rock they found themselves trapped on and studied the Ghost Zone around them. Being around ghost weapons didn’t seem like that great of an idea, and he really didn’t want to hear his dad lament at Jazz’s suggestion to deconstruct the Jack o’ Nine Tails. He still couldn’t get a good read on where he was in the Ghost Zone and it made him uneasy. What new ghostly threat could be around the corner? Were they invading another ghost’s lair? Would a ghost he knew come around at any moment and talk to him like they were so used to doing and blow his cover? He felt so raw and exposed and he hated it. They needed to get out.

He surveyed the area around them, but unfortunately he couldn’t really see any clear paths to the nearest rock. But if he looked in the distance, he could see almost a trail of rocks leading to a larger platform. It was probably a trap. It was definitely a trap. But it was really their only option, if they could just figure out how to close the gap to that next closest rock.

“I wouldn’t take that apart just yet,” Danny interrupted and they all looked at him curiously.

“Finally seeing the uses of the Jack o’ Nine Tails as an effective ghost hunting invention?” Jack asked as he puffed out his chest.

“Uh…not quite,” Danny replied. “How long is the range on that thing?”

Jack screwed up his face in thought. “Never really tested the range now that I think about it. I supercoiled as much extendable rope into this baby as I could so it could keep going and going and going until it reached the next closest ghostly object.”

Danny pointed to the rock he spotted in the distance. “Like that rock? You said everything in here is made up of ectoplasm, so that rock should be too, right? So if we had something to transport us in, could that thing carry us to that platform?”

Jack tapped his chin in thought while Maddie looked up as if she was trying to do the necessary calculations and equations in her head to make the idea work. Jazz however shot Danny a warning look and he knew why - he was ‘showing off’ again and attracting attention to his knowledge of the Ghost Zone. He understood her concern, but someone had to get them off this rock.

“You know, if we use the containment pods we might be able to fashion them together into a makeshift transport,” Maddie mused. “We could try to attach the Jack o’ Nine Tails onto it and see if it will pull us to that platform. I’m not sure if it’ll work, but it's worth a shot. Jack, come help me break these down.”

Danny stepped to the side to give his parents space to work. He didn’t know how they were going to take apart the pods, especially without any tools, but when his dad pulled out a wallet-sized toolkit from some deep recesses in his jumpsuit (seriously, where was he hiding all of that?) their job looked to be a little easier.

Jazz joined Danny over near the ledge, shaking her head as Maddie reprimanded Jack for not listing the toolkit amongst their assets earlier.

“How are you holding up?” she asked Danny in a hushed voice.

He hiked an eyebrow in her direction. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m used to being in here, but you’re not.”

“Used to being here when you have your powers,” she pointed out. “It’s different now.”

“I still have them,” he bristled. “I just…have to be careful how I use them.”

Jazz shook her head. “Danny, I know it’s going to be tempting to use them, but for your own safety I’d recommend not even trying it. It’s not like it is at home: Mom and Dad are on edge and they’re going to notice things.”

“You don’t think I’m on edge?” he snapped. “Almost everything in here can react to me, so I think I’m just as alert and aware as they are. Don’t worry Jazz, I’m being careful.”

“You are?” Jazz asked as she gestured towards their mother. She had moved on to his pod and closely inspected the bindings that had been around his wrists…bindings that were still tightly latched after he intangibly slid his way through them. Maddie looked over towards him and he purposefully avoided her gaze, but he could feel the suspicion in her piercing stare before she looked back at the pod. Darn it…he’d forgotten to undo those straps. He’d thought about it, but he just got distracted by other things.

“You were saying?” Jazz asked quietly.

Danny ground his teeth as his sister just rubbed it in further. “Okay fine, that was a mistake, and of course you noticed it just when I was assuring you that I’m being careful, but it’s not like they can use it to prove anything.”

“I’m just worried about you Danny,” Jazz told him as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got this. Mom and I were kidnapped by Vlad and I managed to keep anything ghostly out of her notice, remember? I’ve got this,” he assured her.

“Pretty sure that was more luck than skill,” Jazz teased. Danny could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but given their predicament it didn’t really work. They fell silent for a few moments as they stared off in the distance. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

“No,” Danny sighed. He pulled out his phone and clicked on the app Tucker developed. It was Tucker’s pride and joy: an interactive map of the Ghost Zone that didn’t require internet to use. The whole app was a Team Phantom effort: Danny scouted it out and took pictures, Sam helped triangulate everything and keep it all to scale, and Tucker programmed everything. The app was a huge resource, but it was far from complete. “The Ghost Zone is huge Jazz. We’ve flown for hours in the Specter Speeder and there doesn’t seem to be an end to it. I doubt we’ve even covered a fraction of it.”

“But you said we’ve been asleep for two hours, so we can’t be that far from the portal,” Jazz offered.

“Right. So based on that, and the way the clouds are swirling, I’m thinking we’re somewhere in this dark zone here,” Danny mentioned as he pointed to a black zone on the app.

“The way the clouds are swirling?” Jazz asked as she raised an eyebrow.

Danny sighed. “Look, I spend a lot of time in here, okay? Just trust me on this. So if this is the Ghost Zone equivalent of North - and no, don’t ask me how I know that, I just do - then taking this path should take us closer to Skulker’s lair and I know how to get home from there.”

“What are you two talking about?” Maddie asked from behind them.

Danny quickly stashed his phone in his pocket as they both turned around to face her. “Oh, just thinking about where that path might lead,” Jazz lied smoothly.

“Well hopefully closer to the portal,” Maddie said. “We’re almost done, if you want to help us hold some of the metal plates together.”

Jazz and Danny nodded and joined their parents around the pieces that would become their makeshift transport between the rocks of the Ghost Zone. While the worked, Danny could feel his mom’s eyes on him, and he tried to ignore it, but he could feel his skin crawling with anxiety. Did his mom feel like something was different about him in here? He rarely ventured into the Ghost Zone as a human, so he actually had no idea if some of his more ghostly features became more pronounced surrounded by so much ectoplasm. He found himself checking his skin to make sure it wasn’t glowing, or catching Jazz’s eyes to see if she would notice any glow or color change. So far he didn’t notice any physical changes, but something felt different with how he interacted with his parents, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It set him even more on edge and gave him one more thing he’d have to pay attention to while they were stuck here.

They worked quietly, each person focused on the task at hand, and together the four Fentons worked to turn their former prisons into something that could hopefully help them escape the solitary rock they found themselves stranded on.

[mr-lancers-english-class]

Blood Magic and Ghost Kings: Paulina Sanchez's Guide to Winning Friends and Influencing Politics: Chapter 2

ao3

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She managed to make her escape from Dash less than ten minutes later. He tried to make a move on her (again), she turned him down citing her eternal love for Phantom and only Phantom (again), he tried to insult her intelligence subtly and failed spectacularly (again), she giggled and considered cursing all of his door hinges to screech like a demonic beast of hell no matter how much WD-40 he applied (again), and then she left with a wave and a smile and an overly excited “see you at school” as if she didn’t want to curdle all of his milk for the rest of time (again).

Paulina thought she deserved more credit for not cursing her peers and classmates (not friends, they didn’t deserve that honor) with mild inconveniences and annoyances on a daily basis. But alas, only her mama and papí knew about her little dabbling with magic. Mama was so proud that Paulina took after her grandmother and was bringing back their little family tradition. Papí had been terrified she would get hurt right up until the ghosts started coming through, then he was just relieved she would be protected. But even from the first time she had tried to use magic, both of them had made it very clear that she could not share this secret of hers with anyone else. Paulina could work with that, though that begrudging acceptance never stopped the daydreams of imparting itchy left socks and electrical outlets that never quite seemed to line up with your first guess upon the buffoons she had to endure at school.

When she got home, Paulina said a quick hello to her mama who was on a business call, gave her papí a kiss on the cheek as he was also on a business call while whipping up chicken stir fry for dinner, and then disappeared into her room to consult her new grimoire.

It was beautiful .

The leather binding was worn smooth and soft from centuries of use. The gold filigree, lightly faded, was just the right level of subtle for a spellbook, catching the light as Paulina tilted it this way and that. The pages crinkled as she opened it to the middle. The soft smell of paper and lavender filled the air, and Paulina took a deep inhale. Lavender was older than humanity’s use of magic, and had been part of protections against evil spirits for centuries. That was a good sign. Olimpia must have had something in her book about ghosts if she felt the need to layer such strong wards on it.

Paulina flipped through the pages, slower than she would have liked. The writing inside was much harder to read than the cover. Not impossible, just hard. The same hodge-podge alphabet was used, but whatever care Olimpia had put into the title font had not been shown to the rest of her work. It was small, cramped, curving across the page in varying sizes from letter to letter, and definitely in code. Paulina got that much, at least. Quite a few witches she knew of had written their grimoires in code to protect their secrets from each other as much as to keep the magic within out of the hands of those for which it would be too dangerous to weild. Her own fledgling grimoire was in a similar state, after all.

The code used might have once been top of the line, but it took Paulina an hour, tops, to break it down to more than ninety five percent accuracy. Cryptography had progressed in leaps and bounds since the mid 16th century when Olimpia had crafted her work, and Paulina’s own grasp of Latin, Greek, and Italian made the actual translations quite simple. Then, it was just a matter of finding the right spells.

That took much, much longer.

It was almost midnight before Paulina found anything even related to ghosts, in a short section near the end containing three spells, written in the same cramped code as everything else though with ink that was distinctly redder than the rest of the grimoire. Huh. So Dash was right about the whole “written in blood” thing. Imagine that.

The first spell in the section was nothing Paulina hadn’t seen before; a quick and easy power-channeling built around ectoplasm. Simple, straightforward way to boost the potency of another spell. Paulina had a couple of her own versions, one of them also built around ectoplasm though less refined than Olimpia’s version. She’d definitely look into that further. The second spell was absolutely brutal but not what Paulina was looking for. It was a rather complex spell, supposedly used to bind a foe’s spirit to death. She had to sit back for a minute to think that one through. It didn’t kill living people, but she was like 97% sure that Olimpia had either figured out a way to destroy a ghost, or prevent it from forming in the first place. Paulina wasn’t sure which one scared her more.

The third spell though, that one was golden. Almost exactly what Paulina was looking for. And definitely close enough that she could work with it. She might not get Phantom on the first try, but she’d get someone who could help her get closer.

“Dios mío,” Paulina whispered with reverence. “Voy a invocar al rey de la muerte.”

She set to work.

The spell was almost too easy. A pentagram drawn on the floor in chalk, a few symbols in an alphabet Paulina didn’t recognize written in ectoplasm between the sides of the star, lavender beeswax candles at the five points, and then a short chant. Paulina read through the instructions three more times after she’d set it all up just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. But no, it was all there, laid out on the floor of her bedroom exactly as Olimpia had written it.

Paulina was going to summon the King of the Dead to her bedroom at two in the morning on a Wednesday. Sure. Why not. Wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened in the past few years.

Sitting in front of the pentagram with the book in her lap, Paulina began to read the invocation.

She wasn’t entirely sure what all the words were, as it kept switching from Classical to Vulgar to Medieval Latin and back again faster than she could keep up, but the phonetics were easy enough. Besides, she didn’t really need to know exactly what it was saying. Spells like this worked on intent more than the soundwaves one used to bring that intent into the world. Paulina didn’t know definitions, but she knew what the words meant . That would have to be good enough.

The spell began to crescendo. She could feel it in the rhythm of her voice, the words speeding up even as she read at the same pace. The air around the pentagram began to crackle and spark with energy, bursts of green flaring and fizzling as the taste of ozone and sulfur filled Paulina’s senses. Ugh, ectoplasm. She’d had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much.

The sparks were getting bigger and brighter. The air felt sharper. Paulina could barely read fast enough, words spewing out of her mouth before she’d finished finding them on the page. The pentagram began to glow. Wind whipped around her room, papers from her desk flying off and bursting into flames when they were struck by a stray beam of green light.

The wind screamed, blowing out the candles, as Paulina got to the last line of the spell. With a sudden, painful clarity, she knew exactly what it meant.

“I summon you, king of the ghosts!”

The wind roared, whipping Paulina’s hair across her face. A bright flash of light burst across the room, and as Paulina blinked her eyes into refocusing, a small thump sounded from inside the circle. 

“What the– Paulina?!?”

Paulina stared. Standing in her summoning circle in a black tank top and red boxers, hair a bedheaded mess and eyes sunken and tired, was none other than–

“Fenton?!?”

“Uh, hi?”

[camels-pen]

Cozy Cats Cafe

Summary: Vlad loses his cat. He finds her in paradise.

based on @uwuplasmiusuwu's prompt "Vlad isn’t a cat boy, he’s a middle aged cat man. (Do your worst.)" and @catmiint's prompt "Maddie the Cat goes missing after Vlad's ghost portal was left open. The most sensible thing for Vlad to do is freak out and tear apart the Ghost Zone looking for her." and @catalystofthesoul's prompt "Kitties, cats, purrs and meows!"

Ao3 Link

~

“Maddie! Maaaaddie!”

Vlad called and called, but his little angel never answered. It’d been hours and he’s been looking all over for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Not for the first time, he was severely regretting letting her drag her cat bed near his ghost portal. 

Oh, but how could he resist her desire to stay near him? Now, if only human Maddie was the same he’d be living a much better life.

Currently, he was instead slamming a feathered ghost into a wall against a stall in a ghostly strip mall.

He shook the ghost like a ragdoll and yelled, “HAVE YOU SEEN MY BABY?!”

The ghost trembled in his grasp. “Your- your wife?”

Vlad growled, his fangs purposefully peeking out from his lips. “My cat.”

The ghost chuckled nervously. “What does it look like?”

“She is of the finest lineage of Persian cats in the state of Wisconsin and my one and only precious little girl.” Ellie notwithstanding. “Now,” Vlad pulled the ghost up higher against the wall, letting his eyes glow a bright red, his furry black ears lay flat against his head as his black furred tail lashed angrily behind him. “Where. Is. She,” he said, leaning close enough that he was nearly nose to nose with the ghost.

The ghost made a small noise of fear before squeaking out, “I think there’s a cat cafe just a few stores down that way?” They pointed down the sidewalk. “They tend to pick up any strays they find, living or dead.” 

Vlad narrowed his eyes, but dropped the ghost. They took a moment to sag against the wall and drop back on their ass, holding their hand over their core, feathers puffed up from fear. 

Vlad leaned down to loom over them. “If I find out you lied to me, expect consequences.”

The ghost merely whimpered as Vlad turned away, marching towards the Cozy Cats Cafe a few stores down.

He slammed open the door, eyes scanning his surroundings before his eyes locked onto his baby.

Curled in the corner of a couch and being petted by some insignificant ghost that Vlad has already tossed out the door. 

He kneeled down in front of the couch and took her face into his gloved hands. “My dear Maddie, I’m so glad I found you.” She nuzzled into his hands and purred. Vlad automatically answered her with one of his own before pausing, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why on Earth would you stay here? Surely you could’ve found a way home or alerted me somehow—”

He cut himself off when he turned and took in the cafe properly. Now that his drive to find his cat was gone, he allowed himself to pay attention to his surroundings again and he purred louder at what he saw.

Soft rugs on the floor that were perfect to knead between paws, pillows and blankets assorted into napping and play areas with all kinds of toys strewn about, a bin of larger toys off to the side and tucked between a plush chair and low table. There were many of those comfy looking chairs and low tables scattered in circles around the play and nap areas, distanced just far enough for the people to still see and play with the cats, but not too close for the cats to feel crowded. There were a few cat trees, multiple scratching posts, and even shelves lined high up on the walls to allow the cats to perch and people watch from above.

It was paradise.

“Oh, oh this place is—!” Vlad paused, a wide smile growing on his face as he took in the decor and layout and fine furry friends lounging about. A swell of pure joy filled his chest and he smoothly picked up Maddie from the floor, cradling her in his arms and giving her a large heaping of kisses all over her face. Maddie purred at the kisses. “My dear baby, you have found a most beautiful establishment. I truly can’t thank you enough.”

“Um, sir, you can’t just throw people out. We’re going to have to ask you to—” Vlad hardly paid attention as he kicked a ghost wearing a paw print apron out the door.

“So my dear,” Vlad said, placing Maddie back down on the couch and staring intently into her eyes. “What shall we do first?”

[sailor-toni]

The Evil Ghost Tyrant wants to Make Me His Heir? But I’m a sixteen year-old halfa!

You can also read this on A03, FF.NET, and Wattpad.

Chapter 2: Time to call for backup!

  The students at Casper High could not fathom what they had seen at lunch that day, and many were weary of their classmate. Danny on the other hand wished for death. The gazes of the school bore holes through his skin, and peeled the frays like hangnails. The teachers watched him with wide dinner plate eyes, their bodies tense like mice before a cat. This must have been a dream for Wes who ran through the halls cheering and hollering. And Paulina would not stop staring at him. He should like this, she was a very pretty lady after all but this wasn’t a stare someone gave their crush. It was the stare of an obsessive fangirl being close to her idol. Her pink I-phone was tucked under desk , probably recording him or she might have been taking photos of him for her fan twitter account. 

    This stance was broken by Dash and Kwan. The knuckleheads blocked the hallway with their steroid fueled bodies, arms crossed and faces stitched into frowns. He wanted to phase through them and fly home, but the two suddenly fell to their knees thanking him for saving them, their parents, their friends, and the school. Kwan had paper ready for an autograph from Danny. This started the title wave of fans chasing him. 

    Sam and Tucker tried their best, but their brave efforts were in vain. Tucker was the first to slip under the trodding feet of his classmates, his voice was muffled by the scream of fangirls and fanboys alike. Sam was next, she sacrificed herself for the greater good. Her strong arms held the classroom door shut. The old wood cracked and rumbled against the horde of hormones behind it. Danny saluted her before he took off to the skies. The roar of a crashing door faded into the Amity Park skyline. 

    He sailed through the air, letting the wind roll off his body with the day’s stress. Up ahead he could see the large Fenton Works sign in its gaudy neon glory. Maybe today was all a dream, and as soon as he opened the door his alarm clock would scream in his ears and wake him up from this chaos. 

    Behind his front door, Danny saw his parents waiting for him in their living room. His mother’s eyes were red and his father looked like he was about to strangle someone. It was a very cruel way reality chose to remind him that everything was in fact real. 

“Danny, sit down. We heard what happened at school today,” His Mother’s tone was a death sentence. 

“Wait, I can explain everything,” Danny said. 

“Can you explain why you’ve been lying to us for more than two years?” His father asked in that tone that parents do when it's not really a question. But, Danny could explain why he hid everything. Why he lied, and snuck out of the house, and threw himself in danger every day, but the reasoning would hurt his folks even more. So, Danny chose silence. 

“Danny I don’t understand why you would hide this from us? We didn’t know that was you in the at night flying to who knows where! We could’ve killed you. Our weapons aren’t toys, they can do actual harm Danny,” Maddie said. 

“I know. I’ve been using them to hunt ghost,” 

“I told you It wasn’t me losing them!” Jack said. Danny didn’t see the look Mother shot his Father. But whatever it was, his father chose silence. 

“If we knew you were interested in ghost hunting we would’ve helped you,” Maddie said. 

“I wasn’t really interested until the accident and then I -” 

“What accident?” 

“Oh um two years ago I was messing around with the portal and iImighthaveturneditonewhileIwasstillinside,” Danny stammered.

“You WHAT?” His Father yelled. “Danny, that portal blasts enough ectoplasm to destroy a person! You should be dead!” 

“Well I’m half dead so you're half right?” 

“This is just like Vlad all over again. Son, we need to get you to a hospital pronto!” Jack began to gather items for a hospital trip. “Maddie! Where are the insurance cards?” 

“No! It has been two years and I’m fine! I mostly mastered my powers and I even stabilized my core, so it's all good.”

“Humans shouldn’t have ghost cores,” Maddie said.

“Hey can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to watch Tedtalk,” Jazz yelled from her room. 

“Jazz Fenton get down here!” Maddie yelled. 

“What’s going on?” Jazz asked, her hair and clothes were a complete mess from all night college study sessions. A sticky note that read STUDY HARDER was stuck to her forehead, and a coffee stain spread from her blue tank top to her gray sweatpants. 

“Jazz, did you know your brother was a half ghost?” 

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh OH! Danny! Oh no Danny how could this have happened to you! Who would do such a thing to my precious baby brother!” Jazz worked up her best acting skills, which were razzie worthy. 

“Jazz you knew! You should’ve told us!” Jack yelled. 

“WHY! You were the ones stomping around the dinner table saying Oh  I’ll catch that Ghost boy and rip him apart molecule by molecule! Explain how I was supposed to tell you anything about Danny when you're making threats like that Dad,” Jazz said. 

“I never said that! but , if I did, I never meant it!” Jack said. He then leaned down to his wife and asked “Did I really say that?” 

“Honey I have to be honest I don’t remember half the things you say.” 

“And to be honest, I don’t either.”  

“Dad we are right here, we can hear you,” Jazz said. “Also! Danny, Sam just texted me saying the Ghost King is back? When did that happen? Did you fight? Are you okay?” 

“Do Sam and Tucker know? How many did you tell before you thought to tell us?”Jack said. 

“Well, to quote Jazz’s words I thought you two would kill me if I told you!” Danny said. 

“We would never kill you!” Maddie said. 

“You held a gun to my head at city hall!” 

“We didn’t know that was you! Which is why you should’ve told us!”

“Batman figured it out in a day!” 

“YOU TOLD BATMAN BEFORE YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS!” Jack said. “Batman must think we are terrible parents!” 

“To be honest Danny didn’t tell me, I figured it out all on my own,” Jazz said. 

“You didn’t even tell your sister!?” Jack said.

“I thought she was going to tell you!” Danny said. 

“And I was, until Dad threatened to kill Danny over dinner!” Jazz said. 

“I have no memory of that.” 

    The house around them shook, but not from the family fighting. Picture frames fell from the walls and dishes flew from their cabinets. Jazz ran to the windows while Jack tackled Danny to the floor, their large metal chandelier missing the two by hair’s breath. 

“Oh, thank Dad.” Danny said. 

“Don’t thank me, I’m just doing my job. By the way, I was joking about the molecule thing.” Jack said. 

“I thought you didn’t remember that?” 

“Remember what?”

“Oh never mind.” 

“Uhhh Danny, he’s here,” Jazz pointed through the opening in the blinds. The whole family moved to the window, to see Pariah Dark standing on top of the neighboring rooftop with a pair of binoculars. The Fright Knight stood behind him in a firm stance. His metal armor sent blinding reflections right into their eyes. Pariah waved to them. 

“Oh for christ sake,” Danny rubbed his eyes. He could feel the headache grow ever larger behind his eyes. 

“What does he want?” Jazz asked. 

“He wants to adopt me or something,” 

“Ghost King or not I will not allow anyone to adopt my son while I’m still kicking! Maddie get the guns,” Jack said. 

“Wait, I have a better idea, Dad and Jazz, can you distract him?” Danny asked.

“Yes, but first explain,” Jazz said. 

“You and Dad will distract those two while Mom and I get Clockwork. By the way, Clockwork is the ghost of time and he was once married to Pariah Dark. I think Clockwork would be willing to reign him back in,” Danny said. 

“Wait, they were married? Why? That Pariah guy looks gross,” Jazz said. 

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.” Danny said proudly. 

“Okay… we will go along with your plan but only if you tell me everything that has happened on the ghost ride to this Clockwork fella,” Maddie said. 

“It’s a deal!” 

    The Fenton world explorer parked its shiny metal carcass on the edge of Clockwork’s tower. Maddie and Danny exit the vehicle, with Danny mid speech. 

“And you remember the giant plant ghost, his name was Undergrowth and I don’t think you remember much as you and everyone else was brainwashed, but it was during that fight that I found out I had an ice coe and I almost froze to death trying to save everyone. But I managed to escape back to the Ghost Zone where I met ghost Ice Yetis who were kind enough to train me on how I could control my powers and - Mom? Mom, are you okay?”

“One second Danny, I just need a moment.” Maddie took a seat on the steps of the tower, her hands ran through her hair and pale face. “Danny.” She said, her eyes wore weariness like a coat. 

“Yes Mom?” 

“If you ever lie about anything this big again, I will rip your sorry ass from module to module. You understand?” 

“Yes Mom.”

“I took you out of this world and I can take you out, you understand?”

“Yes Mom.” 

“Good, now let’s meet this Clockwork person and get this over with. Once we get home your Father and I will discuss your punishment.” 

“I saved the world countless times you can’t-” His Mother shot him a look, and Danny made the smart choice of silence. 

“Are you guys also here to see Clockwork?” A female voice asked. 

Behind them, floating in the miasma of the Ghost Zone was a pale yellow ghost with long blonde hair that whipped around her body like a spectral trail. 

“Yes, but who are you?” Maddie said. 

“My name is Celeste, and I’m here to see my husband. Does Clocky know you’re coming?” Celeste said. 

“Danny, I thought you said he was married to the Ghost King?” Maddie said. 

“That’s what he told me. But I don’t know who this woman is. I’ve never heard him mention Celeste before,” Danny said.  

“Excuse me! He’s never mentioned me before! After everything we’ve been through!” Celeste cracked voiced cracked as she spoke. “Maybe I’ve been gone for too long.” 

    The door to the tower slammed open, sending the purple metal door flying into the void of the Ghost Zone, and Clockwork hurried out. 

“Celeste, my love! How great it is to see you again!” Clockwork yelled quickly floating over to her side. 

“Is it? Apparently you don’t tell anyone about me,” She said. 

“That is because I only tell those worthy about you. I can’t have someone trying to steal you from me,” He said. 

“You old fool, there is only room in my heart for two people. You and the sleeping giant. I could never make room for any more suitors.” 

“I do know this my dear, but is it too much if I want to keep you to myself?” 

“Oh you sly fox, you know one day he's gonna break out of that box, and you’ll have to learn how to share again.” 

“And when that day comes you will have to learn how to share me.” 

“With how busy the Observants have you I feel as though I am already sharing with you.” 

“Danny what is going on?” Maddie whispered.

“I don’t know, I think they are flirting?” Danny said. 

“I know that much, but who is this woman? Who are the Observants? Is this man reliable?”  

“The Observants were eyeball freaks who watch everything that happens in the world, and -” Danny began. 

“Danny, let me formally introduce my wife to you,” Clockwork said. Celeste had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and was kissing his quickly aging face. “This is my wife Celeste, the former Queen of the Ghost Zone and currently its only historian.” 

“Is this the boy you were telling me about last time? The one with the evil version locked up in your home?” She asked. Clockwork nodded. “Well it’s very nice to meet you young Phantom.” Danny shook her outstretched hand. 

“I didn’t know the Ghost Zone had a historian, or a queen?” Danny asked. 

“Yes, while Clocky here can see eons into the past, he is really bad at writing it down for future generations of ghosts to learn from. So, I have been going through the Ghost Zone and recording all traces of history down,” Celeste said. 

“But he said you were queen once? Why not?” Maddie asked. 

“I have no desire to rule. Do you know how hard it is to rule the afterlife? There are always new ghosts trying to steal the throne from you, and every ghost expects you to solve their issues, and if you address someone with the wrong title they get upset and try to overthrow you. Plus you have to manage what few resources the Ghost Zone actually has, and create an economy, and stop every wayward human who tries to get in, and and and! UGH! It's horrible, I only did it because Pariah was terrible at diplomacy! What is the new phrase, he saw every problem as a nail ?” She looked towards her husband for confirmation. He nodded. “He’s lucky that I loved him enough to do that for three thousands years.” 

“What happened? Did you stop loving him or something? I mean why did he get locked in the sarcophagus of forever sleep?” Danny said. 

“He went too far and tried to conquer our allies in the Far Frozen. He wouldn’ listen to reason, so Clocky and I started a tiny rebellion.” 

“So you left Pariah for Clockwork?” Clockwork and Celeste both burst out laughing at Danny’s comment. 

“Oh no, technically the three of us are still married to each other. We have been since we first met in the Ghost Zone,” Celeste said. 

“OH!” Danny said. 

“In that case can you help my son here, your husband broke out of his box and is now wreaking havoc on earth. The man is trying to adopt my son.” Maddie said. 

“Pariah’s out? Since when?” Celeste said. 

“Two days ago. I was watching him to see if he did anything,” Clockwork said. 

“So, you saw him come to my school and you did nothing?” Danny said. 

“I was too busy laughing. For a moment I thought it was a mirage in the time stream.”

“Well, can you stop him? I already have a set of parent’s and no offense I don’t need another one.” 

“Yes, we can stop him, but we will need that Fenton fishing pole.” 

“Umm…okay?” 

    A crowd had gathered outside of Fenton Works, confused at the sight before them. Jack Fenton and his daughter were engaged in a heated battle with the King of Ghost and his ever loyal Knight. The four stood around a plastic folding table, the urge to kill deep in their eyes. Jazz made the first move, quickly sliding a card from the table before slamming it upon the building piple of casualties. 

“Draw four and I change the color to blue!” Jazz said. 

“You are making your own father draw cards?” Pariah scoffed. 

“Think again bucko, for I have this in my hand!” Jack slammed down a blue draw two card onto the table. “Draw six Fright Knight!” 

“I am sorry your Highness, but I can not afford to gain anymore cards,” Fright Knight did not look his master in the eye as he lightly set down a blue draw two card. “Draw eight your Highness.” 

“Fright Knight! You betray me again! I will make you pay for this!” Pariah Dark added eight uno cards to his hand. 

“That makes twenty cards in your hand your Highness, at this rate you’ll never win Danny’s birth certificate,” Jazz mocked. 

“There must be some trick to this! You two are cheating!” Pariah said. 

“Nope, you just suck at Uno,” Jack laughed. “Jazz baby, it’s your turn again.” 

“Right.” Jazz said, laying down a blue nine card. “Uno!”

“No!” Pariah slammed his first on the table. 

“Yes! Once I put this card down, I will win. Got anything in that hand of yours that can stop me?” Jazz said. 

“I could kill you all where you stand!” Pariah yelled.

“That is called cheating your kingly-ness,” Jack said. 

“You two are the ones who have been cheating! I will just take the boy by force!” 

“But sir, the book!” Fright Knight cried. 

“DAMN THE BOOK!” The King withdrew his glowing sword and sliced the table clean through. 

    Jack and Jazz withdrew their weapons and took aim at Pariah. When a spear made of light sliced through the air and knocked the sword from Pariah’s hand. Up in the sky was a pale yellow Ghost with long blonde hair descended from the sku. 

“PARIAH DARK WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?” She screamed. 

“Your Highness I believe that is your wife,” Fright Knight said, inching closer to the Fentons. 

“Celeste Darling, the star of my night, what has brought you here?” Pariah’s voice reached a level of softness no living human had heard before, but Fright Knight knew it was a signal of the end. 

“Would you like me to list my grievances in alphabetical order or by severity?” Celeste threatened.  

“My love I did not mean to hide from you, it was going to be a surprise for both you and Clockwork.” 

“Who surprises someone with a sixteen year old child?” 

“Well you have always mentioned creating a family.” 

“Not like this! Now to save face the three of us are going to go back to castle dark and have a discussion about consent and why forced adoption is wrong.” 

“Wait, the three of us?”

“Time in,” Clockwork said, appearing behind Pariah with the Fenton ghost fishing pole in hand. The neon green fishing line was sung around Pariah’s wrist and feet, leaving him helpless. 

“Clockwork!” 

“Hello dear husband, I believe we have a few things to talk about,” Clockwork said. 

“You two can’t do this to me again!” 

“I’m sorry who attacked the Far Frozen, destroyed the biggest natural portal between the living and the dead, …” Celeste began to ramble on and on about every misdeed Pariah had done. From massive destruction and barren lands, to the minor items, like her 12th century shoes being ruined. Clockwork dragged the two of them away, waving goodbye to the Fenton family as they entered the Fenton home. 

“And I thought our family was bad,” Danny said. 

“You have no idea,” Fright Knight said. In his metal hands was the entire uno deck, “Do you mind if I borrow this?” 

“Only if you agree to go back to the Ghost Zone,” Jack said. 

“A deal made sir,” Fright Knight shook Jack’s hand, before skipping into the Fenton home. 

“Well, now that this is over, I have a test to study for. See you guys later!” Jazz took her weapon back into the home. The Study harder sticky note still on her forehead. 

“I think I have a test too! And look at the time, I better go inside to study,” Danny backed away slowly, inching towards the front door. 

“Perfect Danny, and when your done make sure to bring down your TV, cell phone, gaming console, computer, and every single item of Fenton tech that you have,” Maddie said. “Wait what now?” 

“Son, did you really think we wouldn’t ground you for lying to us for over two years? Also Sam and Tucker are not allowed at our home until they apologize for lying to us,” Jack said. 

“You know Batman wouldn’t do this to his kids,” Danny grumbled.

[aggressivelyclueless]

@lexosaurus yall want some dissecc? :)

words: 23,946

warning: gross. blood/guts. needles. teeth. drugs. angst. gore. the works, man.

k so this was supposed to be one (1) bonus chapter/whatever bc im overhauling wes’ wonderful life of doom rn but then i got carried away and it’s Oops! All Ghost Science! so it’s kinda speculative; kinda continuous; kinda not. whatever of this ends up on ao3 will do so as part of wwlod when i get it finished. idk when that will be. so.

[emeraldsandamethyst]

Nurse and Blob (927 words) by EmeraldsAndAmethyst

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Maria Hernandez (OC), Maria Hernandez (Original Character), Original Characters

Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Phic Phight (Danny Phantom), Phic Phight 2022 (Danny Phantom), Phic Phight: Team Ghost (Danny Phantom)

Series: Part 27 of Ghost Biology is Weird, Part 6 of Phic Phight 2022

Summary: Nurse Hernandez was not looking for a pet. A pet finds her anyways. (title might change)

[idiot-cheesehead-archenemy]

Every Time

Word Count: 10,620

Prompts: Danny dies, goes to hell, and comes back without a scratch (by @ninjysworld) /// Okay everybody hated the 'ghosts are actually just aliens nobody is dead people' take, but like... are ALL ghosts dead people? Including Box Lunch? What about Youngblood's Parrot? The Behemoth? Pariah's Skeleton army? Fright Knight's horse Nightmare? If yes, explain some of the non-human, mindless, or other strange circumstances. If no... well, what makes a ghost a 'ghost'? (by @ghostlyhabato)

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

“You again?”

“Me again?”

“What the heck did you do? It’s been like an hour on Earth.”

“Since … the accident? That sounds about right. Or since I woke up from the accident, I guess. They said I’d been out for a bit.”

“Since the last time you died, yeah.”

“I … Oh. I guess I did die. Kind of.”

“Uh-huh. We had a long conversation about it. Yes, I know you don’t remember. That’s how it works, you don’t get to keep your memories when you come back from the dead, that would spoil everything.”

“Could you maybe summarise it for me?” 

“You died, you somehow still technically had a living body, there was also some confusion about you possibly having an ectoplasmic body which shouldn’t be possible for a few reasons, you ended up here because we get all the weirdos, blah blah blah, we eventually decided to cut our losses and send you back to life on Earth.”

“Oh. Huh. Yeah, that … didn’t exactly take.”

“Evidently.”

“No, I mean, I was a ghost when I woke up.”

“What? In the Ghost Zone, you mean? Or on Earth?”

“On Earth.”

“Shucks. That wasn’t supposed to happen. You woke up as a ghost where you died?”

“Yeah.”

“Dang. … But I can see here that you definitely still have a living body. I don’t think you were a ghost.”

“I looked like a ghost. I was flying and turning intangible. I don’t think humans can do that.”

“Not normally, no, but … I just don’t see how you could have been a ghost. Even if some wires got crossed and your soul got sent into an ectoplasmic body, you wouldn’t have ended up back here when you died. You must’ve just been … partially ectoplasmic. I don’t know. It’s the only explanation I can think of.”

“Like, half-ghost, half-human.”

“That’s not … well, maybe. This isn’t my area of expertise.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Because my day was going too well.”

“You know, my day is not going swimmingly either.”

“Touché.”

“So … are you going to send me back again?”

“What else can I do? You shouldn’t be here. I don’t even know why you are here right now. Did you get shot or something?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Well, like I said, you’re technically still alive, so I’m just going to send you back now. Hopefully I never see you again.”

“Same to you.”

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

“Really, dude? What is your deal?”

“I … don’t know? Where am I? Who are you?”

“Hell, and someone who doesn’t get paid enough for this.”

“Oh, cool, great. Hell. Fun.”

“Not today, apparently.”

“Hell is normally fun?”

“For us, yeah. Even on gate duty, it’s not that bad. A lot of people say it’s boring, and yeah, it’s not the most exciting most days, but there is a special joy in those first few moments. Seeing someone’s face when they realise what’s happening, listening to them tell their story, messing with them because they don’t know how things work yet, you know. But then some days, you don’t get that. Some rare days, you get a real dang puzzle. Apparently today is one of those days.” 

“So what I’m hearing is that I’m not actually in Hell because I’ve been damned to eternal suffering as punishment for my sins in life.”

“No, unfortunately not.”

“Uh-huh. Instead, I’m here because my situation is some manner of puzzle, potentially of the dang variety.”

“Seems that way.”

“Are you not allowed to swear or something?”

“I can say whatever the fuck I want.”

“... Right. So …”

“How? How did you die again? And why are you still not dead? What is happening?”

“I wish I had a good answer for you here, but I don’t remember dying a second time.”

“Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. And I suppose by the laws of mathematics, that means you don’t remember dying a third time either, right?”

“No? Sorry, how many times have I been here?”

“This is your third. You got electrocuted, then I tried to re-ensoul your apparently still-living body, you somehow ended up as something that resembled but was not strictly speaking a ghost, then an hour later you were back here, I re-ensouled you again, and now you’re here again not ten minutes later. Earth minutes, you understand.”

“Sure, sure. The flow of time is convoluted … Right, ok. I got electrocuted, then I was a ghost, then I figured out how to turn human again -”

“Gonna have to stop you there, buddy. Wanna explain that one?”

“I’m not sure I understand it better than you do, but I was a ghost, and then I … stopped being a ghost. And I was human again. And alive.”

“You … possessed your corpse?”

“No. No, there was no corpse.”

“There was no corpse or you didn’t see a corpse?”

“There wasn’t one. My friends were there, they saw me become a ghost. It was just me the whole time. It was a human body then it was a ghost body and then it was a human body again. And that’s how I experienced it, too.” 

“And you didn’t think to mention that last time you were here?”

“I … guess not? I don’t know. It seems like I would have. It was a pretty significant and weird thing.”

“Yeah, seems like the kind of thing you would mention. It does sort of explain things, at least, though it raises a lot of questions I don’t know the answers to. … So you were human again, mission accomplished. Then you died again.”

“I don’t remember dying, exactly. I did become a ghost again, though.”

“Ok, so I suppose I can’t expect you to know this, but when a human becomes a ghost, we in the business typically call that ‘dying.’” 

“Were you this sarcastic the other two times I was here?”

“No, the first time I was polite but aloof, and the second time I was extremely friendly, bordering on inappropriate. I like to mix it up. But finish your story. I won’t interrupt again.” 

“Not much more to it, I don’t think. I was trying to figure out what happened, and then I became a ghost again … an hour later you said? That sounds right. And then I became human again a few minutes later, and then ghost again, just now. I was trying to see if I could do it on command. I think I can.”

“I’ve got to hand it to you - pretty much everyone can die on command, but most can’t do it multiple times.”

“I really died when I did that? I guess it did hurt a lot, but only for a second, and then I was just - well, it felt like I was just a ghost, then, like it was a smooth transition. Apparently because I don’t remember the step in between. But it was basically the same process when I turned human, except in the other direction.”

“So not the same.”

“No, I guess not the same. … I don’t really know what to do with this.”

“Oh, I would that there was anything for you to do. Gosh and golly do I wish this was something for you, and not me, to deal with. … Don’t suppose you’re going to stop messing with your own death anytime soon?”

“Stop turning into a ghost you mean? I don’t know; I’m not sure it’s totally in my control.”

“If it was in your control, would you stop?”

“... Maybe? It does seem pretty dangerous to be a ghost. Kinda cool, too, but … wait, I won’t remember any of this, right?”

“Yep. I know you’re not going to stop just because I asked you nicely. I’m wondering whether you were planning to stop, once you got it under control, assuming such a thing were possible.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Of course not. This is probably going to suck, then.”

“For who?”

“Mostly me.”

“Oh, good.”

“I can make it suck for you too, you know. Don’t forget where you are. Don’t forget that you don’t get to go back until I send you back, and that I can keep you here as long as I want and still send you back to the instant you left. I can do that every time.”

“... Jesus Christ.”

“Doesn’t matter, though, does it? You will forget. I guess I’ll see you in a few of your minutes.”

“I guess so.”

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

“Hello?”

“Yeah, give me a minute, I’m sending you back.”

“... Back … where am I?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Humour me?”

“You’re going to forget, it doesn’t matter.”

“Have I been here before, then?”

“Why would you ask? After I just said you’re going to forget?”

“Just curious.”

“Well, stop being curious.”

“Ok, sure dude. … So how long do I have to wait?”

“A minute.”

“Ok.  … Wait, does this have any, like, long term consequences?” 

“What? Like what?”

“I don’t know, like some lasting effect on my body even though my mind is wiped every time.”

“No. You’re not even in your body, how would that work?”

“See, the fact that I am not in my body is news to me.”

“I cannot do this every time. You cannot expect me to explain the whole thing every time.”

“Every time what? How often do I come here?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget. Now.”

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

“Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m sending you back, just be quiet for one minute.”

“... Back … where -”

“You’re going to forget this. You forget every time.”

“Every time? How many -”

“I don’t know, six? Doesn’t matter. Just let me do this.”

“Do what?”

“I have to … I don’t think you would understand it. Think of it like, I don’t know, paperwork. I can’t just send you back to life without -”

“Back to life? I’m dead?”

“Kind of, but not really, apparently, not enough, which is why I have to do this. Can you just be quiet?”

“... sure.” 

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

“Just be quiet for one minute, I’m sending you back, it doesn’t matter where you are, you’re going to forget this conversation.”

“Have I -”

“Yes, you have. Be quiet.”

“Wait, how -”

“Many times? How many times have you become a ghost? That many. Now shush.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“That’s … unsettling.”

“I’ll bet. Hush.”

“... so every time -”

“Yes, every time.”

“But you don’t forget.”

“Obviously not.”

“I’ll bet that gets annoying.”

“I am only just beginning to appreciate exactly how annoying this is going to be.”

“... For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are. Doesn’t matter, though, does it? Won’t change anything.”

“I don’t really know what else I can say.”

“Nothing. Say nothing.”

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

“Hello? … Hello? Can you see me? … Hello? … Ok, I’m … gonna go then.”

“No, you have to stay here.”

“So you can hear me.”

“Yep. Was hoping maybe if I pretended not to you would just stop talking. Apparently not. Lesson learned.”

“Where am I?”

“Hell.”

“I … what?”

“Every time you become a ghost, you die, and you come here, and I have to deal with you, because apparently no one else has the time. You know, I don’t buy that, that nobody else has the time. I refuse to believe that we’re the least popular destination. There are dozens of tiny religions, some with only one member. I know they sort of bundle together the admin duties for most of those, but still, how many cases can they possibly be getting on a given day? No, you know what I think? I’ve been thinking about this. I think we deserve it. I think I deserve it. That has to be it. Because that’s how it works, right? That’s the whole point. I’m in Hell. I’m literally in Hell. And probably somewhere in Heaven, there’s some angel who just loves this kind of nonsense, and I bet they’re getting it too. And they probably think they’re the only one, and they feel so lucky and special, and they’re thinking, ‘I’m in Heaven.’ You see? It’s all one thing, the whole dang system, and we’re all inside of it.”

“... That is … something, all right.” 

“Yeah, you don’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t care, I just don’t really know what to say. I’m sorry, I guess?”

“I would love it if you said you were going to stop doing this.”

“What, turning into a ghost? I don’t know - I think there’s a chance I’ll be doing that for the rest of my life.”

“But doing it every few minutes like this, that has to stop soon, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, probably. Once I’m sure I can do it on-command.”

“Soon?”

“I get the feeling time passes differently here, but as far as Earth time, yes. I think I’ve more or less got it.”

“A few more times, maybe?”

“Probably.”

“Good to know.”

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

“Hello?”

“We don’t need to talk. You can just be quiet.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“Nothing.”

“Where am I?”

“Nowhere. I know more than you; just trust me that it doesn’t matter.”

“Why should I?”

“Because shut up.”

“Ok, I’m gonna go then.”

“No, stay there. I can’t send you back if you leave this area.”

“Oh, good, so you’re sending me back, then. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because I already tried leading with that and it didn’t make you stop talking. But I kind of doubt there’s anything I can say that will make you not talk, so I suppose I’ll go back to that.”

“That doesn’t seem right. There must be some combination of words that would result in me not talking. Have you tried just telling me not to talk for … however long this takes?”

“Yep.”

“Hm. I don’t know then.”

“Appreciate the help.”

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

“Just be quiet for one minute, I’m sending you back, it doesn’t matter where you are, you’re going to forget this conversation.”

“Uh. Have I been here before?”

“What part of … what do I need to say to make you not talk?”

“You could answer the question.”

“No, because then you’ll just ask follow-up questions.”

“Then I don’t know. Why am I not supposed to talk?”

“How about because you’re distracting me, and I’ll be able to send you back quicker if you don’t talk?”

“Yeah, I suppose that would be a good reason not to talk.”

“Great, then that.”

“Ok.” 

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

“Just be quiet for one minute, I’m sending you back, I’ll work faster without you distracting me.”

“Uh, ok. … Can I ask -”

“What did I just say?”

“Sorry. Just curious what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget this.”

“Oh. Have I b-

“Been here before, yes. Now shush.”

“How many times before?”

“Why? Why do you insist … I don’t understand. I don’t know what to do. Are you done messing around with this yet? It’s been three in the past thirty seconds. Your seconds.”

“I … wait, because I’ve been turning into a ghost?”

“Yes. You come here every time you turn into a ghost. Are you about done with that? At least the doing it every few seconds part?”

“Maybe? If I knew this would happen every time I would probably stop, but you said I’m going to forget.”

“Yeah. Just wondering what the plan is. How long do I need to keep my schedule clear for?”

“I don’t know. A few minutes maybe? I’ll probably get tired of it soon. It hurts every time I do it, so I don’t think I’ll keep doing it so much. Just getting used to it right now.” 

“Great. But like, what, a dozen more times?”

“Maybe? I doubt that many. But I don’t know.”

“Ok, yeah, I have no interest in dealing with that. I’m gonna make a sign. It’s Daniel Fenton, right?”

“I go by Danny.”

“Ok. Hang on. … There.

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

Yes, this happens every time you turn into a ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

Does that basically answer your questions? Would that make you not want to talk when you appeared?”

“I guess? It seems like you would be the expert on which questions I usually ask, but I think that covers it.”

“Great.”

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

Yes, this happens every time you turn into a ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

“... If I’m going to forget anyway, why bother with a sign?”

“Oh, for the love of … What do I need to put on the sign to make you not talk?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s a genuine question.”

“I don’t know. You could add a line about why you bothered with the sign, maybe?”

“It really seems self explanatory, but fine.”

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

Yes, this happens every time you turn into a ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

I made the sign so you wouldn’t talk.

“...” 

“...”

“...”

“Oh thank goodness.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Bye.” 

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

***

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

Yes, this happens every time you turn into a ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

I made the sign so you wouldn’t talk.

“...” 

“Oh hey, been a while.”

“Uh. Yeah, I … this is a lot to take in.”

“Right, right.”

“Are you working on sending me back?”

“Sure, of course. You know when you go back, no time will have passed for you. Doesn’t really matter how long you stay here.”

“I got the impression you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I didn’t when I made the sign, or since. But I’ve been bored, and I’m curious. You haven’t died in almost a week. Usually it’s at least once a day.”

“Sorry, I’m dead?”

“Oh, that’s not on the sign, is it? I can’t remember what I wrote.”

“It’s definitely not.”

“Anyway, what’s up?”

“So I die and come … what is this, the afterlife?”

“One of them. Probably not yours, though. You’re just here because … well, I don’t really know.”

“Reassuring.”

“For what it’s worth, if I had reassurance, I would give it to you.”

“Thanks. And this happens every time I go ghost?”

“‘Go ghost’? That’s what you call it?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of battle-cry. Actually, the cry is ‘I’m going ghost!’”

“Fun. Should I change the sign?”

“If you want?”

“I think I will. And yes, every time. Though it was much more of a hassle at first. I’ve since found a way to more-or-less automate the process of returning you to your body. I just interrupted it this time because, like I said, I was curious. You don’t really have to answer though.”

“I’ll forget all this?”

“It will be exactly like all the other times.”

“I guess I can hang out for a bit then. It’s partially that I just haven’t had much reason to go ghost lately. At first it was just for fun, you know, learning about my powers - hang on, have we had this conversation before?”

“No, this is the first time I’ve asked you anything about your life, since the first time you … went ghost? Is that the past tense?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Since the first time you went ghost, when I was trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“Ok, so I’m half-ghost, half-human. I have ghost powers even in my human form, but I can also turn into a ghost at will and then I can fly and my other powers are more, uh, powerful. I’ve been going ghost to practice, mostly, get my powers more under control, but then I realised ghosts have been coming through my parents’ portal and causing trouble, so I’ve also been fighting them, which involves going ghost. But it’s been quiet lately, and I managed to get a pretty nasty burn the other day from messing with one of my parents’ anti-ghost weapons, so I figured I should just take some time to heal as long as nothing dire came up, and nothing did, until now.”

“Huh. Sucks about the burn.”

“It could be worse. But yeah.”

“What do you mean that ghosts have been causing trouble? Like what?”

“Mostly just harassing me or my parents or other random people if they get that far. I try to catch them before they leave the house and throw them back into the Ghost Zone.” 

“So you’re a ghost hunter now? Last time we talked, it seemed like you didn’t want anything to do with the family business.”

“I didn’t, but it’s sort of become my business now.”

“I’ll bet your parents are happy about that, at least.”

“Haha, no. They have no idea I’m doing any of this. I have my ghost-hunting activities and they have theirs.”

“Seems inefficient.”

“If you knew the calibre of ghost hunters they are, you probably wouldn't think so.”

“But why not work with them? I would think, if you wanted to fight ghosts, or if ghosts wanted to fight you, your abilities plus your parents’ research would make for a better team than you alone.”

“I’m not alone, I do have a couple friends who help me. But to answer your question, mostly because my parents still don’t know I’m half-ghost and I want to keep it that way. I’m pretty sure they would kill me at best, vivisect me - or I guess technically dissect me - at worst. They’re hunters, but also scientists. Primarily scientists, really. They want to know what makes ghosts tick, and the best way to find out is to look inside them while they’re still ticking.”

“I can see the logic. But you really think they would vivisect their own son? I know not all parents love their children, but that seems extreme.”

“It’s not that they don’t love me - they do. At least, they love their son. It depends - I hope it depends - on whether or not they would still see me as their son. They might think I’m just an evil ghost pretending to be their son, at which point vivisection would be fair game.”

“Why would they think you’re evil?”

“All ghosts are evil, don’t you know? That’s what they’re always saying. To be fair to them, I suppose most ghosts do seem to be evil, or at least most seem to be trouble.”

“Not in my experience.”

“Do you have a lot of experience with ghosts?”

“No, not really. But I do know what a ghost is, which is a soul reincarnated into an ectoplasmic body. As likely to be evil or good or some combination thereof as any other ensouled being. Why wouldn’t that be the case? What do your parents think ghosts are?”

“Just … evil. Like they’re created out of malice or something. To be honest, I always used to tune it out when they would blather on about ghosts, and nowadays I try to avoid the subject as much as possible.”

“But you think most ghosts are evil, too.”

“I’m going with what I’ve seen. If most ghosts aren’t evil, then either I’m the unluckiest person in the world or that portal is cursed, because just about every ghost that comes through it is immediately trying to attack someone.”

“Are they? Or are you immediately being aggressive and they’re just responding to that?”

“No, they’re definitely being aggressive. … Ok maybe sometimes technically I’m the one starting it, but I’m telling you, I have good reason to assume the worst.”

“Maybe they know your family are ghost hunters somehow?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they just know to expect that, when they come through this particular portal, they’re not likely to get very far if they don’t fight their way past me. But still, why do they need to come through the portal at all? Isn’t it, I don’t know, more comfortable for them in the Ghost Zone? What’s here for them?” 

“Have you asked?”

“A few times. Once the ghost of an old lunch lady came to our school because my friend Sam changed the menu. Honestly, if she hadn’t started attacking us, I’d probably have been on her side. But mostly they don’t talk, they just attack.”

“Maybe they don’t speak English.”

“Probably. But what can I do? If they attack, I’m going to fight back.”

“Fair enough. Is that why you’re going ghost now? Is something attacking?”

“Yeah, these stupid ectopusses again. They’ve been here before, apparently for no other reason than to attack me or my parents. I don’t know what their problem is.”

“Must be some kind of grudge, right?”

“This time, probably, but the first time? My parents had never even seen a ghost before.”

“Weird. And they’re octopuses?”

“They look like octopuses, yeah.”

“Huh. I don’t know why the ghost of an octopus would be so aggressive. Could be shapeshifters, maybe.”

“Is that a thing? Ghost shapeshifters?”

“Some ectoplasmic beings can shapeshift, yes. I think any of them could, actually, but most never do. Maybe it’s difficult or uncomfortable, or maybe they’re just attached to their current appearance.”

“Can I shapeshift?”

“No idea. You apparently have an ectoplasmic body, but it’s also your human body, sort of, right?”

“I guess?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up. We’re pretty firmly in the territory of guessing here. Maybe someday you’ll see an ectoplasmic being shapeshift and you’ll think to try it for yourself, and then you’ll have an answer.”

“Could I try now?”

“You’re not in your body right now. Either of them.”

“I’m, like, a disembodied soul, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Isn’t that what a ghost is?”

“What? You’ve been fighting ghosts, haven’t you? How could you do that if they were disembodied souls?”

“I don’t know. You’re the expert on souls here.”

“A soul isn’t a physical thing. You can’t touch it, light doesn’t reflect off it, none of that.”

“Ghosts can turn invisible and intangible.”

“From your perspective, sometimes, sure, because ectoplasmic beings subscribe to a slightly different set of physical laws than material beings - that is, beings made of the kinds of matter human physicists study. But ghosts do subscribe to physical laws, because they - along with all ectoplasmic beings, ensouled or otherwise - have physical bodies.”

“Wait, sorry, not all ectoplasmic beings are ghosts?”

“No. A ghost is just a soul that was reincarnated into an ectoplasmic body, like I said.”

“And other people are reincarnated into … material bodies?”

“Yes.”

“But those people aren’t ghosts.”

“No, ghosts are specifically ectoplasmic beings whose souls used to inhabit a different body.”

“How does that happen?”

“They choose it. Everyone more or less gets to choose what happens after they die, though there’s nuance to it, and as a rule they lose the memory of making the choice. With ghosts, it usually happens when someone can’t stand the idea of not getting to interact with the living world anymore, nor the idea of continuing to live without their memories.”

“Seems like a pretty good deal. And they get superpowers as a bonus. Why doesn’t everyone do that? Or do they?”

“Most people like the afterlife they end up in, for one thing. And not everyone wants to keep their memories. But also, the same thing that allows ghosts to keep their memories - the peculiar relationship between an ectoplasmic body and its animating soul - means that when the body is destroyed, the soul is too.”

“Oh. That’s … terrifying.”

“For some, of course, that’s the appeal. Not everyone wants to live forever. But you’re, what, fourteen? Yeah, I can’t imagine you’re ready to end it all just yet.”

“Is that gonna happen to me? If I get killed in my ghost form, will I just … stop existing?”

“I don’t know, kid.”

“I … Can you send me back now? I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

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

***

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

I made the sign so you wouldn’t talk.

“... Huh. Does Vlad come here too?”

“What?”

“I only see the one sign, so I was just wondering if Vlad Masters comes here when he goes ghost too.”

“I have no idea who that is. Another half ghost?”

“Yeah.” 

“I didn’t think there were other half ghosts.”

“Neither did I, but apparently there’s been another one for 20 years. I guess he doesn’t then.”

“No, not that I know of. What’s he like?”

“Like a seriously crazed-up frootloop.”

“Does he see himself as evil?”

“I don’t know. Apparently he doesn’t see himself as ‘good,’ but I get the feeling he thinks the world owes him something, and that justifies acting evil.”

“Hm. Not our type, then. Of course, neither are you. Kind of confirms what I was thinking, though. We don’t get all the weird and overflow cases; some of them go somewhere else, and there’s some arcane process for deciding who goes where.”

“Sorry, your type? Weird cases? Where am I exactly?”

“Where do you think?”

“Some kind of afterlife, maybe?”

“Got it in one. You don’t seem as bothered as you normally do when I tell you that.”

“I guess I’ve gotten used to the fact that I’m partially dead. You meet enough dead people and it starts to feel mundane.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“I’m sure you can. What is it you do, if you don’t mind me asking? You mentioned ‘our type’ - what’s ‘our type’?” 

“What I, specifically, do is this - I watch the gate. Sometimes I have to deal with weird situations like this, but mostly I just greet newcomers, figure out why they’re here, mess with them a little because I have to take my fun where I can get it, and then set them up with someone to … handle their case.”

“You mess with the recently deceased for your own amusement? That sounds pretty not-cool.”

“Eh, probably. But see, ‘our type’ are people that really believe they’ve earned some kind of punishment. Everyone calls it Hell, officially, but it really is more like purgatory.”

“I’m in Hell right now?”

“If it makes you feel any better, so am I.”

“... Uh-huh.”

“Point is, they couldn’t really appreciate a happy afterlife because they would just feel guilty and unworthy. So they come here and suffer instead. Most of them leave eventually. But the thing is, if we’re supposed to be making them suffer, and the reason they don’t go to Heaven or something like that is because they would be unhappy there … you see where I’m going with this?”

“You tell them they’re in Heaven?”

“More or less. They give their whole sob story about all the terrible awful unforgivable things they’ve done, and I just respond, real polite, ‘No, you must be mistaken, that’s not a sin.’ It tears them up. ‘But, but what about -’ ‘Yes, we know about that. It’s perfectly fine.’ ‘But all of the -’ ‘What about them? I’m just failing to see your argument here. Nothing you’ve done sounds like a punishable offence to me.’ They get so confused and upset. It’s always funny.”

“Wow, that is … twisted. This whole thing sounds twisted. I’m not sure I like this afterlife. Or whoever set it up.”

“Look on the bright side - you may not have to deal with it eventually.”

“What?”

“Right, you don’t know that. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worrying about it.”

“You’ll forget when you go back.”

“So what’s the harm in telling me?”

“How did I end up having this conversation again? Fine, ghosts stop existing when they die. You may or may not be enough of a ghost for that to apply to you.”

“... I’m not sure whether that’s more or less horrifying than potentially ending up in Hell because I can admit when I’ve done something wrong.”

“Now who’s twisting things - that’s not what I said at all. If you wouldn’t want to end up in Hell, then you wouldn’t. People go where they want. Is that really a bad thing?”

“When they want to end up in Hell, yeah, it is.”

“What would you do with them?”

“I don’t know … Explain to them that they’re really not terrible people and they do deserve Heaven?”

“And if they don’t? If they really are terrible people?”

“I don’t think terrible people generally think that they’re terrible.”

“In my experience, I would say that most terrible people don’t think they’re terrible, but most people who think they’re terrible are right. Mind you, I can only judge based on, at best, the prevailing wisdom of a given person’s culture. I don’t really have a sense of right and wrong myself.”

“So the preceding statement was meaningless, then.”

“As meaningless as any statement about morality, yes.”

“Wow, the devil is lecturing me about how morality is relative and-slash-or fake. What a shock. I’m going to rethink everything now.”

“I’m not the devil, and I’m not saying you need to rethink anything. It is relative, though, isn’t it? If your position in the afterlife is going to depend on moral rules, who’s moral rules? Is it fair to judge, say, a 20th century Peruvian textile artist by the standards of a 15th century French aristocrat?”

“Well, no, but the aristocrat is probably going to have some messed up ideas about justice and stuff.”

“Messed up by whose standards? Not their own, obviously.”

“Just … objectively.”

“Ah, of course. Morality is objective. And let me guess, these objective moral rules that have always existed and have no relation to any cultures just so happen to line up with exactly the moral rules you endorse, yes?”

“No, probably not. I’m sure I’m wrong about some things. And there’s plenty that I’ve never even thought of. But some of it, yeah. The golden rule, stuff like that. The rules that basically everyone agrees on, yeah, I think those are objectively right.”

“Probably not as universal as you're assuming. Or at least, not applied universally. Even your own parents - they believe in the golden rule, don’t they?”

“They do.”

“But not for ghosts, right? The golden rule only covers people, and ghosts aren’t people.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that the rule isn’t good, it just means people have different definitions of ‘person.’ But that’s objective too. And no, I’m not claiming I know the correct definition of ‘person’ to use. I’m just saying there is one.”

“Do you think your parents are evil?”

“Yeah, no, I’m done talking to you now. I’d like to go back.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

“I’m getting the sense that you aren’t either.”

“Maybe I’ll convince you otherwise next time.”

“Whatever.”

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

***

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

This is the afterlife.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

No, I’ve never met Vlad.

I made the sign so you wouldn’t talk.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry, I’m shutting up now.”

“No, it’s … I realise the sign comes across as aggressive, but you can talk if you want. I just hated repeating the same conversation every time you came here.”

“No, I’m good. What’s the point? I’ll forget anything you say.”

“True enough. But I won’t forget, and I am curious.”

“Oh, right, I guess I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“Why would you? So what were you getting upset about before? I’ve never seen quite that reaction from you.”

“Ugh, It’s just … more time fuckery. In the middle of the already very fuckery time. Yeah, I know that doesn’t make sense. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Clockwork?”

“I’m familiar with the word, but it sounds like you mean something or someone named Clockwork, in which case, no.”

“He’s a ghost, I think, calls himself the Master of Time, whatever that means. And basically he wants to kill me because in the future I become evil. Which is just. So unfair, right? I think punishing someone for something they haven’t done yet is technically a war crime.”

“I’ll have to take your … wait no, I don’t have to take your word for that. That doesn’t sound true.”

“Maybe it should be. Anyway, you should probably send me back so I can deal with this.”

“Sure. Good Luck.”

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

Do not distract me by talking.

This is the afterlife.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

No, I’ve never met Vlad.

I made the sign so you wouldn’t talk.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

“... What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry, I’m shutting up now.”

“You … were just here two seconds ago. And said the exact same thing.”

“Deja vu, right? I was just thinking that.”

“... Master of Time, you say?”

“I don’t think I did. Oh, you mean last time I was … huh. This is … hurting my brain. This is a lot of time fuckery to process all at once.”

“If I may add to it, just for fun, from what I’m seeing here, it wasn’t two seconds ago. No time passed in the Ghost Zone between this time and last time you went ghost. Which I would say is impossible if not for the context you provided. Still odd though.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“So he, what, rewound time?”

“I wouldn’t think I would notice if he did. Shouldn’t the second time just feel like the first time because it was actually the first time?”

“Maybe Clockwork can choose whether you notice, and he was intentionally messing with you.”

“What a jerk.”

“You said he was also trying to kill you for something you hadn’t done yet.”

“Yeah, that too. … Why did you specify before that you meant how much time had passed in the Ghost Zone? Does time pass differently there than on Earth?”

“Of course. The speed of time depends on gravity and velocity. Do you not know about relativity? I thought Americans in your time learned about relativity in high school.”

“I’ve heard of it. I’m only a freshman, though. But then, why only specify the Ghost Zone and not the actual location in the Ghost Zone?”

“Because the specifics don’t really matter. If you’d been on Earth, I’d have said Earth. I could have said the mortal realm and it would have been the same difference, because I actually just meant as opposed to local time.”

“Wait, the Ghost Zone is part of the mortal realm? I always figured it was basically the afterlife. Or one afterlife, anyway.”

“No. Well … sure, kind of, insofar as it is a place where some people go after they die. But this, here, is a different thing. Less … moored to time as a physical constant. I don’t think I could explain it in a way you would understand.”

“You sound like Clockwork.”

“I’m not trying to be rude; it’s just how it is. Time is too essential a part of your being for you to imagine a different sort of relationship to it.”

“And your being? What are you, anyway?”

“My being is … capable of experiencing time the way you do, and in fact I do so by default, but I’m not moored to it. I can be differently in relation to time. Or not. … That’s not an explanation, is it? As for what I am, you can think of me as a bouncer, if you want. I let in the people who are supposed to be here and I kick out the people like you.”

“Why am I here? If I’m not supposed to be?”

“No idea. Some kind of improbable edge case, apparently. You technically die every time you go ghost, but you’re not dead afterward; you still have a living body.”

“What would happen if you never sent me back?”

“You would stay dead. But only if I actually never sent you back. You could stay here for a thousand years local time and go back to the moment you left. Or a billion years, or whatever large number you care to name. There’s no meaningful difference between any two finite numbers, but if you stayed here for an infinite amount of time, an eternity, yes, you would just be dead.”

“Wait, so all deaths are, what, conditional? Anyone could be sent back to life sometime in the past? Like, right now, from your perspective, you could send, say, Nikola Tesla back to life, and he just wouldn’t have died when he did? Or, I don’t know, Franz Ferdinand? You could completely alter history?”

“History is a mutable concept, yes.”

“That’s … That’s … I …”

“Like I said, I don’t expect you to be able to understand. You don’t have to try.”

“... Fine. Fine. I think I’m ready to forget about this now.”

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

This is the afterlife.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

No, I’ve never met Vlad. 

I made the sign so we wouldn’t keep having the same conversation.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

“Still dealing with Clockwork?”

“Sort of.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice that ten years have passed since the last time you went ghost. Which doesn’t seem right.”

“I went to the future to escape from Clockwork, but then I met my evil future self, and now he’s gone back … wait, it’s been ten years since I’ve gone ghost? Meaning, it never happens in the intervening ten years? Which means I never make it back?”

“I wouldn’t assume that’s what it means, no. Right now … that’s not the right way to put it, but I don’t know what else to say. Right now, you never go ghost in those ten years, but that could change. History is mutable.”

“Oh. Of course. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? Or none of this would be happening. Like I was saying, my evil future self has gone back in time to make sure that the stuff happens that makes me turn into him. Which I won’t, even if he succeeds, because I can do that, I can change his history.”

“Love the confidence. And I agree, that does sound at least possible.”

“Thanks. But first I need to get out of this … the rope that my body in the Ghost Zone is tied up in. And then I need to figure out how to get this stupid medallion out of my body. The good news is that it doesn’t really matter how long it takes me to figure it out, because as soon as I do I’ll pop right back into the time I need to be in. I … think. I hope. Unless the time runs parallel? Like my own internal clock continues running forward so that the time I get sent back to is the one I’d be in if I had spent all that time in the original time … ugh. This is so annoying.”

“Did you say you went to the future to escape from Clockwork?”

“Yeah. There weren’t a lot of options.”

“But how does that work? He’s the Master of Time. Why couldn’t he just follow you? Or already be there when you arrived?”

“... Huh. … I didn’t think about that.”

“Wasn’t he trying to kill you?”

“I thought so.”

“And now you’re trapped ten years in the future. Maybe that’s close enough for him?”

“But my evil future self is in my present now. That’s what Clockwork was trying to prevent. It doesn’t help at all to just have that future version of me exist ten years earlier.”

“Unless he doesn’t. Maybe he made a mistake by stranding you in the future. Maybe he doesn’t exist anymore at all.”

“Oh. … Bleak.”

“Not necessarily. You could have died. Getting sent ten years into the future is getting off pretty light, comparatively.”

“... I’d still like to get back to my own time, though.”

“Naturally.”

“Hang on. Time here passes differently than it does on Earth, or in the Ghost Zone, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Can you by any chance send me back in time?”

“To what? I can only send your soul back into your body. There’s only one point in .. technically two points in time where your body lacks a soul, but obviously only the one that I would actually send you back to.”

“The other one being the time when I actually die?”

“Yes. Actually, I suppose there’s one in the womb, too, but that would get crowded.”

“Wait, so souls do actually enter the body while it’s still a fetus?”

“In the case of reincarnation they do. Normally a soul doesn’t really enter a body but grows from it. But yes, that also happens in the womb for humans.” 

“That’s … uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Because of abortion, mostly.”

“Oh, that. It’s not really a big deal. Most plants have souls too, and you don’t think twice about killing them.”

“Plants have … What’s a soul?”

“I don’t think I could begin to explain the nature or properties of a soul, but basically it’s the part of you that makes decisions.”

“What’s a decision, in this context?”

“What it sounds like. When there are multiple things you could do, and you decide which of those things to actually do.”

“Computers make decisions.”

“Some computers have souls.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“I’m not. Maybe they don’t in your time and place, in which case they also don’t make decisions, but some computers that exist at some points do have souls.”

“... But there are different kinds of souls.”

“Obviously.”

“And so they have different … you know what, nevermind. So you can’t send me back in time? What if you just sent my soul, not into my body but just on its own? I’d just be a ghost then, right?”

“No. For several reasons, no, that would not work.”

“I’m just trying to problem-solve here.”

“But that’s exactly it; you can’t problem-solve here. I’m sorry, but nothing you do here affects your life there. I enjoy these conversations, at least some of the time, but they can’t do anything for you.”

“That’s kind of …”

“Unsettling?”

    “Yeah. Reminds me of the black hole information paradox. I guess the information isn’t really being destroyed, because you remember, but still.”

“Aren’t you trying to erase ten years of history right now? Does that not constitute destroying information?”

“What? No, I’m … I mean, kind of, from the perspective of the future, I guess … But it was a bad ten years, so …”

“No need to defend yourself; I don’t care.”

“But by that logic, am I erasing an eternity of future history with every decision I make? Because I’m preventing the future where I made a different decision?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“... Maybe you should just send me back now.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a higher tolerance for this kind of stuff. You accepted being half-dead so easily.”

“It wasn’t that easy. And this is a completely different ballpark.”

“If you say so.”

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

This is the afterlife.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

No, I’ve never met Vlad. 

I made the sign so we wouldn’t keep having the same conversation.

“Of course.”

“Oh, hey, it’s been negative ten years since you were here. Does that mean it all worked out?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I guess I told you about the time travel and my evil future self and everything already?”

“Yes. Last I heard you were trapped in the future.”

“Yeah, a future version of my archnemesis helped me get back.”

“Nice of them.”

“I think he was trying to kill me, but he doesn’t exist anymore, or never did, or will … so I’m not sure what the rules are on speaking ill of him. Anyway, he got the medallion out, and then … long story short, it turned out Clockwork had it all planned. I think. He didn’t say that, exactly, but I think he was trying to teach me a lesson or something. I wish there had been a less traumatic way to do that, though.”

“But the thing about trauma is that it buries itself deep in your psyche, your very sense of self even, so in that way it’s a great tool for teaching lessons that you want to stick.”

“I guess there's that. Speaking of deep-seated psychological issues, I found out that Jazz has known I’m half-ghost for ages, so that’s fun.”

“Jazz?”

“My sister.”

“Oh, right. Did she take it well?”

“Really well, yeah. Looking back, she’s even been covering for me. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, she never shared our parents’ feelings about ghosts, but still, it’s a relief.”

“That’s great. Sorry about all the trauma, but I’m glad things seem to be looking up for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Ready to go back?”

“If you don’t mind.” 

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

***

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

Is your name Danny Fenton?

I will send you back in a minute.

This is the afterlife.

Yes, this happens every time you go ghost.

Yes, you will forget this.

No, I’ve never met Vlad. 

I made the sign so we wouldn’t keep having the same conversation.

“Hey, question. The answer’s not on the sign.”

“Shoot.”

“I recently had … an encounter ... with a bunch of clones. And they … died. Most of them. I was wondering, did they end up here?”

“Oh, golly, I don’t think I have the answers you’re looking for. This is only one of many afterlives, really, and it’s not a popular one. Maybe I should put that on the sign. It seemed like too much to explain … maybe it should be a pamphlet or something … anyway, I don’t think I’ve seen who you’re talking about, but that doesn’t mean much. They were clones of you?”

“Yeah. Most of them didn’t look anything like me, though. One of them was just a skeleton, another was a sort of Frankenstein’s monster …”

“No, haven’t seen anybody like that.”

“But, you’re an expert on these things, right? Do you think … they had souls? They were ghosts, at least partially, so I guess they would have had to …”

“They were made of ectoplasm, you mean?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“No, just … not my department. Sorry.”

“Oh, right. …”

“... Hey, are you … ok?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not as such. But you seem sort of distracted. We can talk about it if you want. Though, no, you won’t remember, and it won’t help when you do go back, if that’s what you meant.”

“... And I could stay here as long as I wanted? Because the flow of time is convoluted?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You’ve said it that way before, you know, those exact words. Do they mean something?”

“Oh, ha, not really. It’s a line from a video game. I guess you don’t have a lot of video games down here, huh? Or is it up here?”

“No, can’t say I’ve seen a video game here, though I do know what that is. Are you sure you want me to answer the second question?”

“When you put it that way, I’ll pass.”

“So do you want to go back now? Or not yet?”

“It’s weird, I do want to hang out here for a bit. Maybe even talk about … stuff. But why? If I won’t remember, if the time won’t even have passed, if it will make no difference to me?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“It’s a … psychology question, I guess. Maybe Jazz would know. But of course, I can’t ask her. … This is so weird.”

“Can’t argue with that. But if it’s a psychology question, maybe the answer is just that your psychology isn’t built for this kind of thing. You instinctively want to stop and rest, and it doesn’t matter that this will turn out not to have any long-term benefit precisely because it’s an instinctual thing, not a rational decision.”

“Huh. I could buy that, yeah. Do you know a lot about psychology? Does that come with the job?”

“Eh, not really? I know how a pretty specific kind of person thinks about a fairly narrow range of topics. Not really applicable here.”

“What are you? Sorry, that came out ruder than I meant. I meant, are you a human, or used to be human, or an angel or, I don’t know, an AI?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that. Not human, no. I’ve always been what I am. Which is … an agent of the system. I have a job. I’ve had a few jobs, actually. Right now I’m working the gate. I probably won’t be doing this forever. I suppose the closest of the things you listed would be an angel. But no, I’m not an angel.”

“A devil, then?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know?”

“I decided it doesn’t matter.”

“More like a devil, then, yes.”

“So this is Hell?”

“I’m gonna have to make a pamphlet.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“... Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

“You said ghosts aren’t your department.”

“Oh. Yes, I did. I can give it a shot, though, if you’d like. I know the basics.”

“I just … I thought ghosts were souls. Or had souls, at least. And then my ghost half got cloned, and … some of them looked like me, and some didn’t, and Danielle really just seems like her own person entirely. What’s the connection? What got cloned? Do I have a soul? Does she? What about the perfect clone? I guess I must have a soul if I’m here, but Danielle … and then, what about Cujo? Do dogs have souls? What is a ghost, really?”

“I can answer some of those. I think I will make a pamphlet. A ghost is created when a soul gets reincarnated into an ectoplasmic body. If this Cujo is something like an ectoplasmic dog, I’d say it’s probably the ghost of a dog, yes. They do have souls. A lot more things have souls than you probably assumed. It sounds like these clones were ectoplasmic beings but not ghosts, not the way I use the word. But as for what got cloned … that’s a more complicated question. Ectoplasmic beings certainly don’t have DNA, at least not usually. Maybe you’re an exception. I’m not enough of an expert to say for sure, and I don’t know that it would be helpful to guess.”

“... Ok. That’s … So you do think Danielle has a soul? Even though she’s a clone?”

“Sure, why not? Cloned material beings have souls. A cloned ectoplasmic being probably would too, or at least it should be possible.”

“What is a soul?”

“I’ve tried to answer that before, but I don’t think I did a good job. You were still confused.”

“What did you say? You can summarise.”

“It was already short; I just said a soul is what makes decisions.”

“Like free will?”

“More or less.”

“That doesn’t seem that hard to understand.”

“No? I wonder what was confusing about it last time.”

“No idea. Can I ask another question?”

“I’m here all day.”

“Where do most ectoplasmic beings, the ones that aren’t ghosts, come from? I only know of how it works with ghosts, and not even really that. But there are some, like Box Lunch, she’s the daughter of two ghosts I know, so how does that work? And blob gho- … blob ectoplasmic beings, I guess. How do they … come into existence?”

“How do material beings come into existence? It varies. Think about the diversity in carbon-based lifeforms alone.”

“Are there material beings that aren’t carbon-based?”

“Of course. I’m counting all beings here, including stars and the like. If you’re asking whether there are ensouled beings in that category, also yes, but I believe it’s comparatively rare.” 

“And do they come here too?”

“Here specifically? No, they have their own afterlives, I imagine. I’m not privy to the workings of the whole system.”

“Not gonna lie dude, I’m kind of concerned by how little you know about all of this.”

“You and me both, kid.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“I’m used to it. Actually, I was used to it. But then you came along and now I wish all over again that anyone told me what was going on anywhere ever.”

“Again, just filled with comfort that this is how the people who decide where I go when I die run their ship.” 

“At least you don’t have to work for them.”

“True. And at least I get to forget what I currently know about them, so I won’t lose any sleep over it.”

“True. Hm. I wonder whether you could sleep here.”

“I don’t especially feel like trying.”

“It would be interesting, wouldn’t it? As an experiment.”

“Oh, don’t you start. I already have my parents going on about wanting to experiment on me. Technically on Phantom, but still. And Vlad … I don’t even want to think about his experiments.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know. So you didn’t really explain about ectoplasmic beings, though.”

“About how they come into existence? It’s a very broad question.”

“Ok, what about Box Lunch specifically? Daughter of the Box Ghost and the Lunch Lady, both dead people, I think. Or reincarnated, anyway.”

“Again, I’m really not an expert, but if she’s their daughter, I suppose they combined some of their ectoplasm into a new being, and it had enough … consciousness, if you will, to develop a soul of its own. That’s a terrible explanation - consciousness doesn’t precede the soul. The soul is … kind of emergent? But that term implies supervenience, which isn’t accurate … None of this is helping, is it?”

“I wouldn’t be offended if you used smaller words.”

“I think in this case, as in most cases, the body precedes the soul. The soul … I don’t really want to say that it grows out of the body, because then you’ll picture it wrong, but it’s something like that. Given the names, I take it this Box Lunch exhibits traits of her parents? Abilities, personality, that sort of thing?”

“Definitely.”

“That makes sense. For ectoplasmic beings, there’s a much closer relationship between soul and body than for the material beings you’re familiar with. If her body has a lot in common with the bodies of her parents, which it would if it was created from them, inevitably her soul will also be similar. Whereas, say, a human could have an identical twin and have almost nothing in common with them in terms of personality and so forth. Although, in general, they would still have more in common than two unrelated humans, because the soul is still shaped to some extent by the body that … produced it. I don’t like that word either.”

“Ok. And what about an army of skeletons serving the ghost king?”

“Can you give any more description than that?”

“They look like skeletons, and they don’t seem to make decisions, just follow orders.”

“Sounds like they don’t have souls, then.”

“But what are they? Are they undead? Why are they skeletons?”

“Maybe whoever made them wanted them to look like skeletons. Or maybe they are skeletons that are being puppeted by this ghost king.”

“Skeletons of what? Do ghosts have - do ectoplasmic beings have skeletons?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t know. Why do so many of them look so much like us? Humans and animals and stuff?” 

“There’s a good chance a lot of the ectoplasmic beings you’ve met are just ghosts.”

“But what about Frostbite? He’s - oh. He does have a skeleton. But, anyway, he looks kind of like a human, kind of like a bear. Shouldn’t ectoplasmic beings be more, you know, alien? Why shouldn’t they be all tentacles and non-euclidean geometry?”

“Some of them are. Maybe you’ve encountered some like that and didn’t even recognize what they were. Maybe every ectoplasmic being you’ve noticed looked like you because, when they don’t look like you, you don’t notice them.”

“... No, I think there must be more to it than that.”

“Probably, yeah. There’s also the possibility of cross-contamination. You’re living proof that a being can be both ectoplasmic and material. Maybe this Frostbite is part human and part bear, and only mostly ectoplasmic. Why not?” 

“How the heck would that happen?”

“I have no idea. How the heck did you happen? … I suppose he could also be descended from a ghost human and a ghost bear. That might make more sense.”

“I’m not super comfortable with that possibility.”

“Or, if you prefer, a ghost human and a different ghost human who decided to look like a bear. Some ectoplasmic beings can do that.”

“That does seem moderately better.”

“I suppose by that logic, a bear could also have taken the shape of a human …”

“And this conversation is over now.”

“Ok, new topic. If you don’t mind my asking, when I send you back, what will you be going back to?”

“You can’t see that?”

“Not by default. I could if I went out of my way.”

“What can you see by default?”

“Very little. They leave us pretty much to our own devices here.”

“... Ok not even going to bother commenting. I was going into the Ghost Zone, to work on a map I’ve been making.”

“You’re an inquisitive kid, aren’t you?”

“I think being raised by scientists, even crackpot scientists, will do that. Jazz - my sister - is the same. I usually use the word ‘nosy,’ but ‘inquisitive’ applies too.”

“She annoys you?”

“She … she’s a good sister. She tries really hard, and she loves me a lot. I love her too.”

“Good. That’s good to hear.”

“It occurs to me … It’s a little weird that you remember everything I say and I don’t. I don’t like the idea that I could impulsively say something that I wish I could take back, and then later I wouldn’t even know that you’d heard it.”

“I can’t tell anyone.”

“No, but … still. Do you think you could remind me of that, later? If I started to say something, like complaining about Jazz because I was angry, for example, that seemed like the kind of thing I would regret saying, would you remind me that I didn’t want to say things like that to you?”

“Uh. … Maybe.”

“Is that a no? You won’t remind me? You’ll just let me say whatever, even if you know I’ll regret it?”

“You won’t regret it. Not for long, anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Well, like I said, maybe. If I remember, and if I feel like it, then I’ll remind you of that particular principle.” 

“Really? Can’t even commit to the betrayal?”

“Is it a betrayal?”

“Yes.”

“You think in absolutes, sometimes, you know that?”

“Believe it or not, I have heard that before.”

“From Jazz?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s pretty insightful.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’ve upset you again.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Sometimes. The good news is that I have a reset button.”

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

[q-gorgeous]

He Was Free

Prompt: It would’ve been nice if Danny had gotten the beautiful grave and memorial that he deserved. Instead, no one even found his body. (from danphanwritingprompts) (PR285) @gilbirda

Word Count: 1028

ao3

ffn

ahhhhdvcjshbdjhvhgkd

Danny sat inside of his new cell. They had just finished transferring him to a new room. It was further down under the complex, a higher restriction area. Somewhere that only a select few people could get into. Where no one would know where he was. 

He wished that he could have gotten the beautiful grave and memorial that he deserved. Instead, no one even found his body. It was floating in a tube in the room that was on the other side of the glass. 

No one even knew he was dead. 

He wishes that he could have said goodbye to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. He wishes he would have been able to grow up with them. But that was something that was no longer possible. 

He was so angry. He was so angry that his parents believed these terrible, terrible people over him. That they hadn’t believed they were hurting him. All they cared about was whether or not they could get rid of Phantom. They didn’t even listen to him when he said that he and Phantom were one in the same. 

The GIW agents knew that. They knew there was no difference between him and his ghost half, that there was nothing that had corrupted Danny. That all that had happened was that he died but didn’t. 

He could hear the GIW talking to his parents outside of his original room one day. That Phantom had escaped, had taken their son. They hadn’t been able to separate them. His mom had been crying, his dad had been silent. 

The GIW couldn’t tell them that they had killed their son. That he hadn’t just run away. All they cared about was killing ghosts and they did that in whatever way possible. 

It had been a month since Danny died. He was weak at first but he could feel his power growing, going back to what it was and getting even stronger than before. He wondered if that was because he was a full ghost now. Maybe. 

He sat in his cell, staring at the door, waiting. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Anything. Nothing. Something. 

Then he could hear the door in the outer room opening. He looked up through the viewing glass to see the agent walking in and shutting the door behind him. He holds up a clipboard, taking notes as he studies Danny’s body as it floats in the tube. 

“Physical generation is still progressing nicely, even without a ghost present inside the body. Almost all the scars inflicted on the subject have healed. Some are even disappearing.”

Danny’s brows furrowed. He thought they killed him. That his body was dead. He thought they were keeping his there to study his insides or something but if it was still regenerating then it must be some sort of alive.

Right?

Danny watched as the agent took more notes on his clipboard, scratching his pencil across the paper. He looked up from his notes and met Danny’s eyes. 

“You’ll be proud to know your body is doing much in the way of progressing science.” The agent walked up to the window. “Even for sciences outside of ectology.” 

“Fuck you.”

“And our studies on how to make the perfect hybrid soldiers are progressing even better. With the regeneration your body utilizes, it would be perfect for those looking to enlist. The government would love to know we could make soldiers that could never die.” 

The agent pauses. 

“Well. It’d be very hard to kill them.” He said. “You put up quite the fight.”

“How is my body still alive?” Danny asked, ignoring him. “I thought you killed me?”

“We’ve been storing it in this ectoplasm filled vat. Because of exactly what you are, it’s utilizing the ectoplasm to keep itself alive. Even without you in it.”

“Does that mean you’ll eventually let me go?”

The agent barks out a laugh. “Of course not! You’re too valuable of a specimen. Why would we ever let go of the first halfa we’ve ever gotten our hands on? That’d be ludicrous.”

“Because you’ll never get out. Our security is top notch and everything is powered by an anti-ghost generator. You can’t get through anything.”

“And if the generator goes out?” 

The agent scoffs. “The generator will never go-”

The lights shut off, and the electric humming of the lights and machinery around them stop. 

Danny stands up. This is his chance. He flies through the door. He tenses for a moment, expecting to hit it, but he passes straight through. He turns towards the tube that his body is floating in and takes a deep breath. 

He phases through the tube and into his body. It feels sort of like he’s overshadowing someone, but instead of simply laying on top of their mind, everything clicks back into place and he blinks open his eyes. 

He’s turning intangible and falling through the tube onto the floor. Everything is so heavy, he hasn’t felt the pull of gravity in over a month. He’s struggling to get up, get to his feet. A hand grabs his shoulder and before he can even think he shoots an ectoblast in the direction the hand is coming from. He hears a shout and before he’s grabbed again Danny is transforming and flying through the ceiling. 

Soon he’s flying through the ceiling and he’s looking at the night sky. At the stars. Tears start to well in his eyes and he flies in the direction that he thinks Amity Park is in. 

He didn’t know how he got out. He didn’t know who was pulling the strings there. Tucker maybe? But he couldn’t help but think he got unbelievably lucky today. He thought he would have been stuck there forever. He thought he was dead, that his body was just being kept for study. Not that he’d ever get out with a living breathing body again.

He didn’t know where he’d go. He’d probably crash at Tucker’s house. Hide out in his attic. He didn’t think he could face his parents again. Not for a long time. 

But for now, he was free.