#should I still tag it phic phight?

[kinglazrus]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Chapter Two: Unusual Clients

Word count: 2403 | [ffn] [ao3] | [previous] [next]

Tucker guides Valerie to a viewing gallery that overlooks the floor two storeys below. The door clunks and hisses as it closes behind them, sealed tight. Glass encases the gallery. The windows are angled outward so you can peer down without sticking your cheek to the glass. There's a slight distortion to it. Not much, but enough that Valerie knows the windows are thick and strong, built to take damage.

Tucker beckons her over to a door in the gallery's short wall, holding it open for her. It leads out onto an open balcony with a bulky safety rail along the edge, curving along the wall, only to dip into a set of stairs that winds all the way down to the bottom floor.

A loud bang startles Valerie. Instinctively, she lashes out, the dark bracer on her wrist expanding into an armoured glove. A compact gun pops out of the top, a bright red light building inside the barrel as it whines.

Tucker holds up his hands. "Whoa. A little jumpy, aren't you?"

Valerie huffs, masking her embarrassment with annoyance, and lowers her arm. The glove retracts, slithering over her arm, condensing back into a bracer. "I need to have good reaction times in my line of work."

"You and everyone else in Amity Park." Tucker leans over the balcony rail and calls out, "You all good down there?"

"Just dandy, kiddo! Thanks for asking!" Valerie immediately recognizes Jack Fenton's booming voice. He is, by far, the most vocal of all the Fentons.

"Let's go. I want to see what blew up."

As they walk down the stairs, Valerie scans the bottom floor. Two figures occupy the middle of the room: Jack Fenton, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit as neon as the sign outside, and Maddie Fenton, who boasts a much subtler, more pleasing blue. Along with their jumpsuits, they wear protective goggles, gloves, and boots. A smoking crater stretches between them.

Maddie pushes her goggles up and sighs in dismay. "Looks like another no good batch, honey."

"Damn. I'll pack it away with the others." Jack bends down to an open metal case at his feet. Nine glowing green vials rest inside, embedded in protective foam padding. The tenth slot is empty. Jack closes the case and tromps over to a rack against the wall, sliding it into an empty space next to dozens of identical cases.

When Tucker and Valerie reach the ground floor, the first thing she notices is a wide metal door tucked underneath the stairs, lurking in the corner of her eye. "Why did we take an elevator up and stairs down when there's a door right there?" Valerie glares at Tucker.

"Safety procedures. If the Boom Room is occupied, you have to enter through the top door," Tucker explains.

"Boom Room?" Valerie asks. The receptionist, Octavia, called the room the same thing.

"It's where we test our more volatile inventions." Maddie drags down her hood, shaking out her short auburn hair, and smiles at Valerie. "You must be the Red Huntress. I'm Maddie Fenton, but Maddie is fine." She holds out her hand.

Valerie takes it, giving it a firm squeeze and a shake. "You can just call me Valerie. Why do you test in here?"

"Well, it's not called the Boom Room for nothing!" Jack bounds over. Without even shaking Valerie's hand, or introducing himself first, he grabs her shoulder and turns her bodily toward the heavy doors. "All doors into the room are blast resistant. We only have these babies down here for hauling in the big buns, or when we're testing out ecto-powered engines. Can't exactly fit those through that tiny thing up there." Jack jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing back up the stairs. "But that's not the only thing! You see, when we built this place, we–"

"Jack, dear. Could you start the unlocking procedure? I think we've done enough testing for today," Maddie interrupts, gently touching Jack's shoulder.

"You got it, Mads!" He scampers toward the doors without a second thought. Valerie watched him go, her eyebrows knitting together as she puzzled over the sudden dismissal.

"Good call, Mrs. F," Tucker, hovering at Valerie's shoulder, says. "I don't want to miss dinner again. It's pot roast tonight." That only makes Valerie more confused.

"Sorry about that, dear. If you let Jack get going, he won't stop lecturing for anything." Maddie smiles softly. "As much as I love hearing my husband talk, I know not all people do."

"Oh, uh. No, it's fine. I actually am curious about the room." Valerie gives the metal panels stretching twenty feet up the wall a pointed look.

Valerie's statement ignites and eager glean in Maddie's gaze. "Oh! Isn't that just fantastic? In that case," she points over Valerie's shoulder, "do you see those vents on the wall behind you?"

Valerie turns and looks up. The first three vents rest inches above the metal panels. From there to the ceiling, a new row of vents digs into the wall at five-foot intervals, all the way to the top.

"Everything below those first vents is blast-proof, even the stairs. It keeps the rest of the building safe. To prevent the other walls from blowing out, those vents lead directly outside, into a courtyard in the middle of the facility. Up there," Maddie points to the ceiling, which is a wide skylight, "the windows can be opened using a control pad by the door. If a big enough explosion goes off, it gets directed up and out rather than through the rest of the building."

Valerie is impressed. Very impressed. She also thinks the Fentons are insane. "What are you making that could cause that big of an explosion?"

"Nothing, usually." Maddie's charming smile feels very out of place in this situation. "But right now we're working on an ectoplasm based strength enhancer."

Valerie wrinkles her nose. "You want to make ghosts stronger?"

Maddie laughs. "Don't be silly! This is for humans. We're just having trouble making a batch that won't explode when agitated." She gestures to the rack of briefcases. "There's no way to safely dispose of them, yet, so we keep it all here for now."

Thinking about it all, Valerie feels lightheaded. They're in the middle of the city. If all those cases explode at once, it will blow up half the block. Suddenly, she isn't so eager to explore Fenton Works anymore. In fact, she would like very much to leave the building now, thank you. But Jack's not finished with the doors. With few other options, Valerie pushes on

"You want to make... some kind of super-soldier serum?" she asks.

"Oh, dear, no. It's not for anything like that." Valerie waits for Maddie to elaborate, but all she gets is that same pleasant smile. It's sweet. Too sweet for how much pain she sees in Maddie's eyes. Valerie wants to ask more about the project, but that severe smile beats her curiosity back.

A loud siren rips through the room, one long shriek, accompanied by a flash of red light. Startled, Valerie whirls around, although she manages to keep her weapons at bay this time. At the doors, Jack has his hand on a biometric scanner. Something within the door clunks, the sound followed by a low hiss.

Valerie shuffles her feet as the door swings wide, edging away from Maddie and closer to Tucker. Nudging him, she grabs his attention and subtly tilts her head toward Maddie.

"It's a sore spot," Tucker whispers under his breath.

Valerie nods.

"I think it's about time we head home. Danny should be waiting for us, and I'm sure you want to know the details of the job," Maddie says.

Valerie nods again, too nervous to say anything. The Fentons aren't like any client she's had before. She's used to her richer clients being stuffy snobs, spoiled kids who heard something go bump in the night and got spooked. Sometimes there are genuine concerns. Malevolent ghosts that won't leave them alone. Lost souls lingering in places they shouldn’t be. It's always a humbling experience for her clients. Ghosts don't care how much money you have; they do whatever they want. And if Valerie wasn't there to save their asses, well... they're lucky she's there.

But the most glaring difference between the Fentons and any past jobs is skill. The Fentons are ghost hunters by trade. They dedicate themselves to outfitting people with personal ghost protection, be it basic defences or actual weaponry. They make guns and vehicles. They teach classes about ghosts. They're at the forefront of Ghost Zone exploration. Anything Valerie can do, the Fentons already do better.

Which is why she doesn't understand what they need her for. Surely whatever is going on with their son, they can protect him far better than she can.

—

Sitting in the living room of the original Fenton Works building, Valerie marvels at how homey it is. For fifteen years, this place housed what is now a world-famous company. Not even the whole building, but the basement. The rest of it looks like any other house—which makes sense because it is their house. But knowing that scientific history was made in the room below her feet makes Valerie giddy.

She bounces her knee and resists the urge to get up and pace. Right now, more than anything, she wants to go downstairs and see the original lab. Science had never been her forte in high school, and she barely understands that side of ghost hunting, but it fascinates her to no end.

A loud creak down the hall has her head snapping up. She starts to rise, then sits back down, driving her fist into her knee to keep her leg still. She wants to look professional and courteous, although by this point that image is already ruined. Tucker shattered all formal pretenses when he picked her up. Still, Valerie wants to try. So she sits up straight, setting her shoulders and raising her chin, and watches the corner expectantly.

Maddie and Jack step into view, but only them.

"Danny will be along in a moment. Things have been rough for him, recently," Maddie explains. She and Jack move to the opposite side of the room, stopping on either side of a comfortable looking armchair.

"While we're waiting for him, can I ask what exactly the job is? Your request was vague." Not just vague, it had been devoid of all useful information. Two days ago, Valerie got a call inquiring about her services, how much she charges, and how long she would be available. The voice on the other end hadn't been Maddie's or Jack's. Now that she thinks about it, it was probably Octavia calling on their behalf.

"For a few months now, Danny has been experiencing a minor haunting," Maddie states bluntly.

Valerie's blood runs cold. "A haunting?"

Jack nods, his expression grave.

"For months?" Valerie continues. "But that's..." Completely unprecedented. The longest haunting on record is thirty-four days. In Valerie's two years of official work, and her four years of unofficial experience before that, she only witnessed two hauntings. The first victim lasted a week before they were possessed. The second barely lasted a day.

"We've got good defences here, but they're designed for more tangible ghosts," Maddie says, an ironic twist in her grim smile. "Haunting Shades are much harder to keep out."

"And you can't drive it off?" Valerie asks. "You of all people should be able to. If you can just find the Shade the next time it visits–"

Jack silences her with a cold look. "You think we haven't tried that?"

Right. World famous-ghost hunters. Anything she can do, they have already done better. She's confident in her skills, worked hard to get where she is today, and, from time to time, deserves a little of the arrogance she feels. Sometimes, however, that means she forgets some people have worked much harder and gone much farther than her.

Maddie and Jack Fenton are two of those people

"Sorry," Valerie says quietly. Who is she, who has never been able to fight off a Shade before, to shame the Fentons for the same fault?

"No need to apologize. We've all got our moments." Jack beams. Valerie almost has whiplash from the complete three-sixty in personality. "This Shade's a slippery one. Even when it's here, we can't find it."

Maddie takes over for her husband. "We've got people working on that. Before Danny's haunting started, we were already working on a new ghost deterrent aimed at Shades. A business partner of ours has been heading the project. That's why we need you."

"For what, exactly?" Valerie asks.

"There's a week-long conference Jack and I need to attend. If all goes well, we could make a breakthrough in the anti-Shade project. But we can't bring Danny with us. Long trips aggravate his condition."

Valerie barely resists the urge to ask about said condition. She will see his condition for herself in a few minutes, but she can't help it. Danny doesn't photograph well, and the few pictures of him post-accident reveal very little about his person. The same morbid curiosity that grabs hold of you when you see the aftermath of disaster takes her now. She's not proud of it, but she feels it, nonetheless.

"We want you here as insurance. We don't think anything will happen, but we'd rather not leave Danny alone with everything that's going on," Maddie finishes.

Distantly, the stairs creak.

Valerie nods slowly. "Okay. I understand. I'll take the job."

"It'll be like a vacation for you! Our Danny's a lot stronger than some ghost. He's putting up a hell of a fight." Jack punches the air. There's a familiar glint in his eye, the same look Valerie gets from her father whenever he talks about how far she's come. Seeing it makes her smile.

"What does Danny–" Someone clears their throat, interrupting Valerie. Her head snaps toward the noise, her eyes finding the newcomer immediately. Pallid skin, sunken eyes, slouched against Tucker, Danny Fenton stares back at her.

"Hey. Valerie, right?" His voice is faint and hoarse.

Doubt pools in Valerie's gut. The smile vanishes from her face. Whatever confidence Jack has in his son, she doesn't share it. Forget surviving the week, she doesn't think he'll live through the night.

[bubblegumbeech]

Bee’s 2021 Fic Review

I was inspired by @floralflowerpower to join the Phandom this year with the event Invisobang.

Stole the format from @aj-itated and @kawaiijohn

Works: 51

Danny Phantom Works: 49

Other Works: 2

Crossovers: 5

Word Count: 202,837 

Events: Invisobang | Phic Phight | Dannymay | EctoberHaunt

Here’s my  fics/series cause I cant do all of them as separate fics I’d die.

Lost Memories and How to Find Them (Phic Phight and Ectober) 3 work Series | Gen, Wc: 13,969, T+ | Danny wakes up from a coma, luckily his parents are there since he doesn’t seem to have many memories. And the ones that he does have? Well they don’t make any sense...

Haunted Towers and Hidden Truths (Phic Phight) Fic | Gen, Wc: 7,262, G |  After everything Danny and his friends have been through, sneaking into the haunted clock tower that's been a constant presence in Danny's dreams should be a cakewalk.

A Darker Age (Phic Phight and Ectober) 3 work Series | Dark Ages, Wc: 28,002, T+ | Pariah was chosen because he was the Ideal King. He was powerful, fearsome, and Duty-bound. It was a shame what happened next.

Exploring the Zone  (Phic Phight, Dannymay, and Ectober) 13 work Series | Minor Dark Ages, Lost Time, Wc: 12,882, T+ | Even the Ghost Zone has its cryptids, stories of beings that sound fascinating but can't be real, at least not with any sort of proof. So how did Danny find one accidentally?! (Some crossover fics)

Housewife (Dannymay) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 3,539, M | Fluff <3 (With the caveat that this description is sarcastic. Please head the tags.)

What use is a Memory Compared to a Future?  (Dannymay) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 2,028, T+ | He doesn't know who he is, but he sure as hell knows what he wants.

Wish Away (Dannymay) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 404, G | She made a portal.

Distracted (Dannymay) Fic | Implied Dark Ages, Wc: 314, G | It happens sometimes, when he looks at the stars. 

A Collection of Things (Dannymay and Ectober) 2 work Series | Dark Ages and Lost Time, Wc 3,233, T+ | Would you heed a mother's warning? For how long?

Closer  (Dannymay) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 313, T+ | Gravity doesn't work on ghosts, the inevitable pull that you can't escape no matter how hard you try nor how long you attempt to put it off. Clockwork though, has an inkling of what it might be like, a human caught in earth's gravity.

Conversation (Dannymay) Fic | Gen, Wc: 69, G | What is a core but a ghost's foundation?

Can you Not (Dannymay) Fic | Gen, Wc: 754, G | Human's have a bad habit of not understanding boundaries

Fairytales aren't real  (Dannymay and Ectober) 3 work Series | Dark Ages, Wc 4,453, T+ | Clockwork kept an eye on the time throughout the dance, he'd wanted it to last as long as possible while still giving him time to flee.  (A Collection of retold Fairytales)

Birthmarks  (Dannymay) Fic | Gen, Wc: 256, T+ | Every ghost has a scar

SPR and Co (Invisobang and Ectober) 2 work Series | Gen, Wc: 47,671 M | Danny and Jazz are visiting Japan to work on Jazz's thesis, "The Psychology Behind the Paranormal and Those most likely to Experience Prolonged or Repeated Interactions" Mai, for her part, is excited to finally not be the child of the group. Danny? He's just trying to not get exorcised. (Ghost Hunt and Danny Phantom Crossover)

The Librarian's Trick (Ectober) Fic | implied Dark Ages, Wc: 2,455 G | Five times Wes tried to prove Cassius Dark was a ghost and the one time he still couldn’t prove it because he’s a modern day Cassandra and his life sucks.

All that Glitters is Nothing to You (Ectober) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 1,204 G | Pariah wants to get a gift for Clockwork. In general Pariah fashion.

Are You the Abyss or Are You Lost in It? (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 6,515 T+ | Sung Jinwoo finds the place between. (Solo Leveling and Danny Phantom Crossover)

Two's a crowd (Ectober) Fic | Amethyst Ocean, Wc: 605 T+ | Something's wrong with Sam.

A Different Deck (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 1,011 G | These cards were different, Constantine had been pretty sure of that. They were certainly creepy. (DC comics and Danny Phantom Crossover)

Dinner Date (Ectober) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 243 G | Pariah visits often, Clockwork rather wishes he'd be left alone.

Last Song (Ectober) Fic | Amethyst Ocean, Wc: 280 T+ |  It's an ancient Tradition, but Sam's grandmother would probably be mad that Sam beat her to it.

Pieces of Time (Phic Phight and Ectober) Fic | Lost Time and Background Dark Ages, Wc: 8,901 T+ | Some questions don't have answers, some answers aren't worth having and some make you wonder where the truth is being hidden. Danny asks Clockwork a question, now, what about the answer?

Real or Myth? (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 379, G | Sometimes Sam and Tucker ask Danny what legends they know are real. It's starting to get a bit out of control. 

Beyond (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 306, G | Sometimes, he dreams of the sky... 

Monthly Routine (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 421, G | Every month its the same thing. Danny’s starting to think he got the shorter end of the stick.

A Repeating Mistake (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 3,037, T+ | She had to save him. She had to. It was the only reason she got up in the mornings, to fix her mistake. Based off the Manhwa "If you Touch my Little Brother, you're all Dead" for the "They knew Each Other while alive" AU

Secret Keeper (Ectober) Fic | Gen, Wc: 501, G | Sam and Tucker aren't allowed to have plans before consulting with Danny anymore...

Reach for the Stars, and Pluck Them from the Sky (Ectober) Fic | Dark Ages, Wc: 11,584, E | It's only fair, that if Pariah was going to dedicate himself entirely to his Goddess, that his Goddess should look only at him. Right?

Non DP Fics

Beneath Different Stars (Star Wars) Fic | The Mandalorian/Corin The Stormtrooper, Wc: 2,962 of 38,981, T+ |  A role-reversal that has Dynn Jaren, a stormtrooper with an attitude problem running away with a stolen asset. And Corin, a Mandalorian bounty hunter that’s supposed to be hunting him down for the good of his clan. Except, what happens when the “asset” isn’t what he thought it was? And the “stormtrooper” he was chasing packs a bit of a punch?

Beaten Heart  (The Magnus Archives) Fic | Gen, Wc: 1,265, M | You won't tell anyone right? What Carra did? I don't think I could forgive myself if anyone found out about it from me...

[going-dead]

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking​

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.

[five-rivers]

I'm new to the danny Phandom and i was wondering if you could give me some pointers to navigate? General vibe of the phandom? Do we acknowledge the movie thing and all "secret identity/revealed" fics take place in that nebulous space before the movie or does it not exit and we don't talk abt it

(2/2) follow up to my previous ask, i've really only seen canon from stove-is-on-fire and the associated fic

Stove is certainly a good place to start!  Their art is so nice.  Canon is dead to us anyway.  

But?  Movie?  What are you talking about?

More seriously, most of us like to pretend Phantom Planet doesn’t exist.  99% of DP phanphic should be tagged cannon divergence just for that, but... we don’t.  Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure I’ve ever actually seen a phic get tagged with canon divergence.  The most I’ve seen is just the alternate universe tag.  

Going backwards, I’d say our general vibe is pretty friendly.  At least here on tumblr.  I don’t think I’ve ever really seen someone being outright mean before and I’ve been here a couple of years.  Even though we have a lot of fanon, we’re pretty accepting and respectful of all headcanons.  There’s very little we take as actually absolute.  I mean, we’re split on whether Danny’s alive, dead, half-dead (whatever that means), or simply dead inside, like every other teen.

But we’re also sort of high-key lawful-chaotic.  As in, we currently have a planned, scheduled, sh*tposting contest which takes place behind a virtual Denny’s.  With brackets.  If it happens this year, it’ll be the third year.  

Further evidence: The only discourse we regularly have is food discourse.  Occasionally we will make parody blogs to impersonate each other.  We trend every year on the anniversary of the first episode air date because of the Dannypocalypse (aka we paste a cursed screenshot of Danny’s face onto everything).  We phrequently replace leading ‘f’s with ‘ph’s (I started doing this as a joke, but sometimes I read a word and can’t tell the difference).

Speaking of events, we have a lot.  Currently, we’re in the midst of our Secret Santa event, which we call either the Christmas Truce or the Holiday Truce after a in-universe event in the show.  I think the next big event is the Phight Club (aforementioned sh*tposting contest), then we have the Phic Phight (we split into teams and write phanphic at each other to see who can do the most), the Dannypocalypse, Dannymay (month-long prompt calendar challenge), and Ectober (another prompt calendar, but there are like three of them done by three different people; the one I do is the one week one).  Occasionally someone will make a new one out of nowhere, but I believe that all of these have taken place at least twice and their creators/hosts are still active.  

Blogs you should check out:

@lexosaurus:  Unofficial cult leader.  Cause of most phandom chaos, but also highly involved in planning events.  Blog is made of jokes.  Phics are high-grade angst.  Truly, an enigma.  

@reallydumbdannyphantomaus:  Also called Bug.  Not 100% sure why.  The source of many jokes.  Exactly What It Says On The Tin.  

@ceciliaspen:  Exceptional art.  Mostly DP, but her OCs and original comic look great.  

@coffeecakecafe:  Same.  Her headcanons and redesigns are super cool, too.  

@gally-hin-phantom:  Nice, soft, cute art.  Also runs the @danphan-trading-board.

@ecto-american:  Involved in a lot of phandom events.  Excellent phics.  

@bibliophilea:  Just...  Super nice?  Is one of the Phic Phight mods.  

@dannyphandump:  This is Tali.  Seems to be involved in everything, somehow.  I see them all the time.  

@kinglazrus:  Everyone’s aunt.  

@guardianrex:  Curates cool meta, headcanon, and speculation posts.  

@dp-marvel94:  Good running library of phics.  Also has some super cool phics about the Danny clones.  

There are others I should probably tag, but this is who I can think of at the moment.  

I hope this helps!  Welcome to the phandom!  You aren’t getting back out.  

[ghostgothgeek]

Pull.

My first for the Phic Phight! 1,685 words.

Danny's been summoned. But not by who you'd expect. In fact, not by an actual person. Prompt by Greyheartwriter.

-----

Danny had been summoned before. Or rather, Phantom has. Usually by Sam, with Tucker occasionally tagging along. Typically when he was grounded. His two best friends always got a kick out of it. Grounded or not, they were going to hang out with their friend, especially when he insisted he should probably stay home “just in case”. He hadn’t gotten caught yet, but there have been a few close calls. Regardless, summoning Phantom was one of the rare moments the trio had to goof off and be regular teenagers. Well, regular enough anyway. 

Danny sat with his elbows on the desk, hands gripping his hair in frustration. Falluca had assigned a large problem set to be done overnight. Like Danny didn’t have anything better to do - rest, catch ghosts, nap, hang with his friends, sleep. At 10:30 pm, he was almost done, he was just stuck on this one problem. He thought about calling Sam and asking for help, but he really wanted to try getting this on his own first. 

He grabbed his pencil and tried writing out the problem for the 400th time when he felt the pull. “Oh no,” Danny muttered and looked around his room before trying extra hard to focus on his math homework and not the pull. It always failed, but he had been trying to train himself to ignore the pull. “Not. Now.” 

Danny put his face closer to his paper and tried to focus, but the pull was getting stronger now. Ugh, why him? Why can’t people summon other ghosts? Well, that could get ugly and dangerous real fast, but come on! He was gonna kill Tucker and Sam. Or maybe…

Maybe his friends were struggling with the same problem as him and they wanted to put all their brain power together. But they could have just called. Regardless, he was still resisting the pull. 

The pull was just a feeling of needing to be physically somewhere else. Or it started out that way, anyway. It was like holding your breath and forcing yourself to not hiccup again. You could try to deal with it absentmindedly, but usually it was all you could focus on until you were satisfied. And that’s where Danny was at now, the pull was beginning to consume all of his thoughts, it was beginning to cloud his brain of anything else. He gripped his desk as he felt another strong pull. Whoever was calling him had done it at least 3 times now. Again, Danny tried to focus on his paper. 

Another pull, and Danny’s vision became cloudy. He felt anxious. He needed to be somewhere. What about math homework? That was supposed to be his top priority, they had a test on Friday. He gently started shaking as he tried to refrain. 

He fell out of his chair at another pull, another call. Fuck it. He couldn’t hold on anymore. 

He sighed, took a deep breath, and focused on the pull. He felt immediate relief as he answered. He felt the familiar feeling of following the call, like riding a waterslide or a rollercoaster in the dark. You had no idea where you were going, you couldn’t see anything in front of you. You didn’t know how long the ride would last and you had zero control. You were just being forced in a different direction, sometimes feeling the whiplash of the unexpected. 

He could feel his core becoming colder. He felt his transformation into Phantom, and soon enough, the blackness was beginning to fade, and he tried to gather his surroundings. “Sam, Tucker, if it’s you I swear I’m gonna-” 

Oh, OH. This was new. Danny didn’t even know that this was possible. He guessed it made sense though. Maybe Ouija boards were like cell phones in the Ghost Zone. Ghosts had to get a hold of each other somehow. 

He turned his body as he slowly looked around. He didn’t know this part of the Ghost Zone. He didn’t even see any ghosts around. He started to panic. He didn’t know where he was, or who called him, or if anyone even actually called him at all. Was this some new stupid ghost power he had to learn to controll again? He just figured out how to keep his pants from falling down when he tried to flirt with girls. Not important right now, he reminded himself. He formed a small ectoball of energy in his hand, preparing himself for any attack. 

But no attack came. Instead, he just felt a little nudge at his feet. Looking down, he sighed and dropped his ectoball. “Really?” He glanced down at his caller. “First of all, how did you even learn to do that?!” 

Headbutting his ankle was the small green fluffball nicknamed Cujo, in his puppy form. To answer Danny’s question, he used his nose to nudge the planchette on the board, moving it around until Danny began to feel the pull again, though this time the pull wasn’t as strong because he was already in his destination. 

Danny chuckled and scratched the pup’s ear. “What’s up buddy? I gotta finish my homework.” 

Cujo barked and wagged his tail ferociously, sticking his butt up towards the air as he bounced around. Eventually, the dog dragged his squeaky toy towards the halfa and barked again. 

“I can’t play! I have to finish my homework so I can try to get a few hours of sleep in a row tonight. Sorry dude, but no.” 

The puppy’s excitement level deteriorated quickly. He let out a little whine, and gave Danny his best puppy dog eyes. Danny sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. Cujo was adamant on playing, that much was clear. He called him 6 times already, what was going to stop the pooch from doing it again until he got what he wanted? Maybe just for a few minutes…

Cujo’s tail began wagging again as he could see Danny caving in. “Alright, alright. I needed a break anyways.” He formed another ectoball and threw it as hard as he could. “Go long, Cuj!” He smiled as the pup darted after the ball at lightning speed and stretched his muscles for the few seconds it took for Cujo to return with the ball. The pup barked excitedly. 

Danny smiled, he always wanted a dog anyway. He threw the ball for Cujo for another few minutes, before playing tug of war and teasing the dog with the squeaky toy. “Who’s a good boy?” Danny said in a voice only reserved for Cujo and other animals (except for Sam’s pet snake...he couldn’t use his little baby voice on that thing, it was too weird). He rubbed the dog’s belly, laughing when Cujo’s back leg would twitch in response to the belly rubs. 

The phantom yawned as he laid down on the ground next to the pup, using one hand to prop his head up and the other to scratch Cujo’s chin. “I’ll admit, you are making me feel more relaxed.” 

Soon enough, Danny was snoozing with the little puppy curled up into his side, snoring softly. Though, the moment of peace didn’t last more than 15 minutes as Danny woke up to the feeling of being pulled again. He groaned, gave Cujo a little kiss on his head, and answered the new call. 

Sure enough, he was in the middle of Sam’s room, falling to her rug as he was still too drowsy to make a better landing. He heard Tucker’s laugh and jolted up, shaking the remaining grogginess out of his head. Danny groaned, “what?!” 

“Look who woke up on the wrong side of the...rug…” Tucker tried. Danny could feel Sam rolling her eyes as she offered him a hand so he could stand up. 

Danny couldn’t help but let out a low growl, “Tucker…” 

“We’ve been trying to call you for 25 minutes already! Guess you didn’t have your phone on you. Thank the goddesses for Ouija boards,” Sam stated as she straightened out her skirt. 

“Why? What’s wrong? Is there a ghost?” Danny examined her room, making a face at the snake that he swore was glaring at him. 

“School starts in 4 minutes, dude,” Tucker explained as he grabbed his backpack. 

“You gotta fly us to your house to get your stuff then fly us to school, and maybe we won’t get detention this time,” Sam put her backpack on as well. 

“Ah, fuck,” Danny quickly grabbed his friends’ arms and flew as quickly as he could to his room, grabbing his backpack and flying to school. His parents were already in the lab working on stuff, and Danny doubted they even noticed he was missing and almost late for school. A bomb could go off in the town and they would be so immersed in their work that they wouldn’t hear it. His overattentive sister, on the other hand, had apparently been trying to get a hold of him for an hour now, only stopping when Sam texted Jazz that they had Danny with them. 

The trio landed in the bush as the first warning bell rang. Danny transformed and they ran into the school together, making it to their homeroom late, but for once luck was on their side as the teacher wasn’t paying attention...her car alarm mysteriously went off. 

Danny pulled out his notebook and realized he still had to finish that math problem. Shit. 

He turned as Sam tapped his shoulder, handing him her homework. He smiled gratefully. 

“Don’t worry, Tucker had to copy mine too. That problem took me 5 hours to solve. You both owe me.” 

Danny sighed in relief and nodded. He had 10 minutes to copy this down, and it was two pages long. It should be a crime to assign problems that long. He pulled out his pencil and started scribbling down the solution when he felt it. 

Another pull. Damn that dog. No, he loved Cujo. Damn that Ouija board. “Remind me to find Cujo a puppy friend,” the halfa muttered to his friends.

[darks-ink]

Reversal

Sometimes Valerie wished she could show Phantom what it was like to be her. She doubted that he would care--the ghost only thought about himself--but the roleswap would at least annoy him, surely.

Prompt: Valerie, as the Red Huntress, is chasing Phantom and they end up both accidentally flying through the Fenton Ghost Catcher together. This causes Danny to end up with the hunter suit and Valerie to end up with ghost powers. (Optional: When Val goes ghost she still looks exactly like Phantom.) Prompt by: @echoghost1 (who I can’t seem to tag?) Word count: 3,846

[AO3] [FFN] [more Phic Phight fics]

---

“Phantom!” she snarled, tugging on the mental connection between her and her hoverboard, trying to push just a little more speed out of it.

Ahead of her, Phantom’s tail inched further and further from her grasp. No matter how hard she pushed, he managed to be just a tad faster than her.

Infuriating is what it was. Sometimes she wished she could show him what it was like.

Not that he would care, of course. Despite his little hero act, Valerie knew that Phantom didn’t care about anyone but himself. The only thing a roleswap would do was annoy him. And that was if she followed the common assumption that ghosts could feel emotion at all, which she honestly kind of doubted.

The ghost dove, suddenly, and Valerie growled to herself. Trusting her suit to keep her locked onto the hoverboard, she leaned back, angling herself into a rolling movement to follow Phantom down the alley he’d disappeared into. This was her chance. In a straight flight she couldn’t catch Phantom, but in tight maneuvers she stood a chance.

Well, until he remembered he could go intangible, anyway.

Their chase continued through several more alleys, Phantom managing to keep frustratingly far ahead of her—they were too close in speed and maneuverability—until he seemingly disappeared. Or, that had clearly been his plan. At the far end of the alley Valerie entered, she could see him pressed flat against the wall, practically radiating ectoplasmic contamination.

Ha, and he thought his invisibility would save him here. Well, Valerie would let him believe that, if just for a moment longer. She kept flying towards him, not drawing back her speed; Phantom would assume that she was still chasing him down.

And, in a way, she was.

She kept herself turned forward, kept up the pretense that she couldn’t see him, until she was within a bodylength of him. And then…

Valerie lunged.

Her board retracted into the soles of her shoes, its engines giving her just that little boost she needed, and she collided with Phantom at full speed. Her arms, covered in the hard plating of her upgraded suit, wrapped around him, fingers digging into his soft ectoplasmic flesh.

Too often he’d gotten away from her, but now, now she knew how to catch him. No injury ever stopped him, but her armor? Her armor was phase-proof. As long as she held onto him, he couldn’t get away from her.

With one arm wrapped around Phantom’s neck, the other digging for purchase on his upper arm, Valerie went ahead and wrapped her legs around his waist too, making sure he couldn’t buck her off. For a moment, she was glad for the fact that it was the middle of the night, if only so no one could see the Red Huntress clinging onto Phantom’s back like a monkey.

And then they were falling.

“Val!” Phantom hissed, white-gloved fingers scrabbling over the arm around his throat even as he turned intangible. “Let go!”

“Fat chance, spook!” she snarled back, tightening her hold on him even further as they careened towards the ground. “I’ve finally got you!”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice strained, as they closed the last of the distance to the ground— and then kept going.

Shit. Intangibility carried over.

“What was—” was all Phantom managed before they broke through the soil again, and Valerie caught a short glimpse of an underground room clad in shiny metal, before they hit their next obstacle.

Which, in hindsight, was probably the first clue that something was massively wrong. They hit an obstacle. While intangible.

This time, they hit the ground hard, Phantom wheezing out a grunt when she landed on top of him. She deliberated her hold on him for a moment, then rolled off, keeping just one hand wrapped around his upper arm.

Instead, she took a longer moment to look around the room Phantom had dragged them into. And, more importantly, the object they had flown through before they had hit the ground.

Her first impression of the room proved true, as it was, indeed, clad in shiny metal plates. As was the ceiling, and the solid floor they had hit. Most of the floorspace seemed to be taken up by equally metal tables, and it took only a moment for her to place them. Lab tables. They were in an underground lab.

Jerking her eyes back to the object they had phased through, Valerie grimaced. Yep, that looked like Fentonworks tech alright. A huge metal standard, topped off with a ring large enough for her and Phantom to fit through—as they obviously had—which was webbed with ecto-green netting. It must’ve shut down Phantom’s powers when he flew through it.

Great. Just great. Now she was down in the Fentons’ lab, forced to either attempt to stealthily break out without anyone noticing her, or let them claim Phantom—because they absolutely wouldn’t let her leave with him, and like hell she was giving up her catch to them.

Dammit, her best option was probably to get Phantom to phase them out of the lab again. He probably wanted to be here even less than her. Maybe the shorting out of his powers was just a brief thing.

Mind made up, she turned to confront him. And found herself staring straight into her own helmet.

“Uh,” she managed, blinking at the shiny visor she was faced with.

“Yeah,” Phantom agreed, his voice oddly distorted by the helmet. And… lacking the usual echo?

Valerie tore her eyes away from the helmet, instead moving them over his chest, down to where she was still holding his upper arm. She hadn’t noticed at first—black was black—but he seemed to be wearing her suit, now, instead of his usual jumpsuit.

“What the hell,” she managed, and then caught sight of the white gloved hand wrapped around Phantom’s upper arm. “What the hell.”

“Yeah,” Phantom agreed, the helmet tilting like he was cocking his head at her. “I, uh. Didn’t think this was something the Ghost Catcher could do.”

“The what?” she asked, despite herself, then immediately shook her head. “No, never mind, I don’t want to know. What the hell happened, Phantom?”

“You’re asking me?” He sounded incredulous, pressing his free hand against his chest. “I’m hurt, Val.”

He paused, looking around them in a way that almost seemed meaningful, before turning the visor back to her. “And we should probably leave first, before we talk any of this through.”

“What, afraid of getting caught by the Fentons?” she scoffed, even if that had been her plan as well.

The helmet facing her turned down, slowly but meaningfully casting over her body before stopping back on her face. “Sure,” Phantom allowed, finally, drawing the word out. “And so should you.”

Before she could say anything to that, he pushed himself up, forcing her to get up as well. “Come on, before they realize we’re here.”

Instead of answering that—how would they know?—she hummed, willing to follow his lead for the moment. She wasn’t sure how accurate the rumors were that Phantom regularly broke into the Fentonworks lab, but he did carry their equipment, and it wasn’t like she knew any better.

They made their way to the staircase, dodging around the half-finished (or half-broken?) equipment scattered around the lab. There, at the bottom of the stairs, Phantom paused again, turning to look at the hand clamped around his upper arm.

It was so weird to see him dressed in her armored suit. Because it clearly was him, wearing it, the suit shaped to fit him much like his jumpsuit usually would.

She really, really hoped that he was wearing clothes underneath it.

Scratch that. She really hoped she was still wearing underwear underneath the jumpsuit she’d received in trade for her armor.

“Are you going to let go of me?” Phantom asked her, in a low hiss.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “And let you run away with my suit? No way.”

He answered with an odd rolling motion of his helmet, and she got the distinct feeling he’d just rolled his eyes at her. “Fine,” he grunted, twisting his arm and sticking out his hand at her. “Let’s at least hold hands? That’s slightly more convenient while moving around.”

Valerie narrowed her eyes at him, but, well. He kind of had a point there. Begrudgingly she slid her hand down his arm, ignoring the way her stomach fluttered at the sight of Phantom’s white gloves trailing down her black-and-red armor. He caught her hand when it reached his, twining his fingers with hers. Now neither of them could get away.

Was this some kind of weird power play? Phantom was just odd enough to try it, she thought, then immediately shoved the thought away as not useful.

Phantom kept his helmeted head turned towards her for a moment longer before turning back to the stairs, finally climbing them. Valerie turned her own gaze towards their tangled fingers, then shook her head and followed him up. Something here was wrong, but it could wait until they were away from this place.

The staircase ended in a door, which Phantom opened without hesitation, and which led into… a kitchen?

What the hell, Fentons? Did they really have an unlocked door to their ghost lab in their kitchen?

Phantom’s helmeted head turned to the right, and Valerie followed his gaze to a door. The windows next to it had their blinds shut, but it probably led out to the backyard. She stepped towards it, but made it no more than two steps before realizing that Phantom hadn’t moved.

He shook his head, then hissed, low, “It’ll be locked, this time of night.”

Ugh, yeah, probably. She paused to take him in instead, for a brief moment, and realized something she hadn’t before: Phantom stood as if he was grounded.

Sure, there had been moments before when Phantom had landed, had walked with his boots on the ground, but he always moved like gravity didn’t quite affect him. Like he was just one moment away from floating off.

Not now. This whole time, he’d been moving like gravity pressed down on him, like it would on anyone else.

So that was a no on ghost powers, then. She moved closer to him, dropping her voice in a whisper as well, “And how do you plan on getting out, then? Breaking a window?”

He paused, like he was mulling over his words. “Well…” he finally whispered back, “Danny never locks his window?”

“Danny should also be in his bed,” she snarled back, as quiet as she could, “asleep.”

“So you’d prefer to break a window and set off the defense systems?” Phantom cocked his head at her, something distinctly challenging about the motion, “Because it’ll be your grave, not mine.”

“That’s because you’re already dead, spook.” Damn that ghost. How would he even know whether Danny Fenton locked his window or not? “Besides, how do you plan on getting to Danny’s room without running into anyone else?”

Phantom visibly stilled at that, like he hadn’t considered that.

“Not so easy without ghost powers, huh?”

“I…” He sighed, his shoulders visibly heaving. “No.”

Unfortunately, that left them with few options. They could try a window, but that would absolutely cause a stir, and with Phantom wearing her armor, that left her identity completely unprotected. Not to mention whatever security system the Fentons might have, which very well could target her just for wearing Phantom’s jumpsuit. The thing was probably seeping with ectoplasmic contamination.

Ugh. She shoved the thought away as something she didn’t want to think about, now or ever.

So that left two options. They could try searching the house for some keys, risk getting caught as burglars, and hope that the security system didn’t require separate deactivation.

Or they could try Danny’s room, upstairs, and hope they could somehow sneak past him—and everyone else asleep in the house—to escape through that window. Curse her for even considering it, but…

“So what are the chances we could get to Danny’s room unnoticed?”

Phantom hummed, quietly, then tilted his head like he was listening. “I don’t hear footsteps, so the Fentons are probably asleep. Either we didn’t set off their alarm, or they forgot to activate it.”

“That seems… oddly lucky.” She strained her hearing, but couldn’t hear anything either. Not that you needed to strain to hear Jack Fenton’s footsteps, but Maddie would probably be far quieter—and far more problematic. “How do you plan on getting past Danny?”

“He’s probably not even here,” Phantom said, something… odd about his voice. Something Valerie couldn’t place. “He sneaks out a lot. Why do you think I know about his window?”

“I honestly didn’t want to think about it,” she admitted dryly, before shaking her head. “Fuck, fine, we’ll go for Danny’s room. If he’s there…” She paused, weighing that. “I know him. We’re… We’ve dated. He’s a good kid. I think we can play it off.”

Phantom’s gaze on her was heavy, but after a long moment he nodded. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” she bit back, but it lacked venom. “I assume you know the way, for some godforsaken reason?”

He snorted but nodded, leading her towards the doorway to the left, pulling on the hand he still held. “You don’t have to assume the worst of everyone, Val.”

“I don’t assume the worst of everyone,” she snapped back, quietly. “Only of ghosts.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes it much better,” he agreed airily, before freezing suddenly. Valerie froze as well, straining her ears… still nothing.

It seemed that Phantom agreed, because not a moment later, he started moving again. They were heading towards another set of stairs, these ones—not very surprisingly—much cozier than the ones down in the lab.

For now, she was content to follow Phantom’s path, watching him carefully sneak through the Fenton’s living room and then up the stairs. It was… odd. She never saw Phantom really walk, like a human, yet he seemed to have no trouble adjusting to it now. Hell, he even stepped carefully, moving around parts of the stairs that threatened to be creaky.

How would a ghost like him know what bits of the stairs tended to be the loudest? What point could that knowledge possibly have, for a ghost that could just float over them entirely?

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Phantom pressed a finger to the front of his helmet—like Valerie needed the clue to be quiet—and then pointed towards one of the doors in the hallway. Danny’s room, presumably.

At her sharp nod, Phantom sneaked closer, Valerie right on his heel. They paused in front of the door but, failing to hear any signs of Danny being awake behind it, quickly opened it.

Phantom pulled her inside before she could hesitate, closing the door behind her while she took in the room.

Empty.

Well, not empty. There was plenty of stuff in the room itself, most of it space-related. Not entirely surprising, considering what she knew of Danny, but still.

No, it was empty of life. Danny Fenton wasn’t there at all.

“See, no problem,” Phantom hissed at her, tugging her over to the window. “He’s not even here.”

Valerie stopped, forcing Phantom to stop as well, just before he could reach the window. “Are you for fucking real, Phantom?”

“What?” the ghost snapped back, helmet jerking in her direction. He immediately dropped back into a quieter voice. “What did I do now?”

“Danny Fenton is not in his room, and none of the lights in any of the other rooms were on, so he’s not in the bathroom either.”

“Yeah?” Phantom tilted his helmet. “So?”

“So?” she hissed back, angrily. “So? Where the fuck is he?”

Phantom shrugged, but the motion looked awkward. “How am I supposed to know? He must’ve snuck out, like he usually does!”

“With his window still closed?” she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “There’s something suspicious going on here, Phantom, and I want to know what.”

“You’re really gonna do this here?” He gestured wildly with his free hand at the room they were in. “Really, Val?”

She grimaced, then shook her head. “Fine. I’m adding it to the list of things we’re discussing the moment we’re out of this, got it?”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” He sighed, then turned to the window, and she let him guide them to it. “We can get out via this window and then fly to some nearby rooftop to talk, if that’s alright with you?”

“How do you plan on flying out? I figured your ghost powers were out of the question.”

He hummed, grabbing onto the window’s handle with his free hand and cautiously opening it, probably wary of it creaking. “Your suit has a hoverboard, doesn’t it?”

“You think you can use that?” She scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, worst come to worst you can probably steer it while I try not to overbalance it.” He shrugged, leaning out of the now-open window. “Looks like the coast is clear.”

Valerie closed the remaining distance to the window, peering outside it while Phantom sat down on its edge, swinging his legs outside. He seemed… oddly cautious not to crush her hand against the windowsill.

“So, uh…” Phantom swung his armored feet meaningfully. “How, exactly, do you summon the hoverboard?”

“You just— Urgh. I don’t know, I just do it.” She gestured vaguely, biting down the frustration. “I just tell it what to do via my mind, I guess.”

Phantom stared straight into her eyes then nodded, suddenly, jerkily. “Alright, I think I can do that.”

She made to snap a reply at him, but was cut short by the sound of metal shifting, her hoverboard bursting free from the boots on Phantom’s feet. He held it vertical, parallel to the wall, and shifted to the side slightly.

Valerie took the motion for what it was and sat down next to him, letting her own legs dangle outside the window as well—and ignoring the black jumpsuit and white boots she saw from her peripherals. She really was not gonna think about any of this shit until they were away from here.

“So now we just gotta…” Phantom fell quiet, trying to maneuver the hoverboard underneath the window. It took him a few moments before he had pulled it off, parallel to the ground without hitting the wall. “Uh.”

Ignoring any protests he might put up, she hooked her shoulder behind Phantom’s and shoved him out of the window. The hoverboard caught him—as she had expected it to—and he barely dropped at all. She was even willing to ignore the yelp and the way he’d crushed her hand in the split-second he’d spent falling.

“You good?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Phantom grunted, and she jumped out of the window as well, landing neatly on the hoverboard, distinctly missing the clicking sound of her boots connecting to the board.

“Now, I assume— Woah!” Phantom flinched as the hoverboard jerked underneath them, and Valerie found her free hand clutching onto Phantom’s upper arm quite against her will. “Okay, no, I think I got it. Val?”

“Just go,” she hissed, shifting her feet slightly as she stood behind him.

“Going,” he said, voice tight. And, true to his word, the hoverboard lifted, starting to glide forward surprisingly smoothly.

Within moments they were above the roofs of Amity Park, and Phantom relaxed slightly, tension leaking from him. “Okay, I think I got it. It’s not so different from ghost flight after all.”

She snorted despite herself. “Well, good for you. Put us down somewhere so we can talk this shit through already.”

“Bossy,” Phantom snarked back, but the hoverboard started dropping before he’d finished the word.

They came to a stop just above an otherwise-unreachable rooftop, the hoverboard almost grazing its surface. “Here’s your stop, my lady,” Phantom said, waving their still-linked hand.

Valerie rolled her eyes, releasing her grip on his upper arm and stepping off of the hoverboard. A moment later the thing retreated back into the soles of Phantom’s boots and he, too, touched down on the ground.

“So, uh… About what happened,” Phantom started, shifting his hand and then flinching when he realized it was the one he had linked with Valerie’s. “So the Fentons have this thing they call the Fenton Ghost Catcher…”

“The dreamcatcher-looking thing, right.” She nodded at him to continue.

“Now, I think they designed it to decontaminate stuff?” He shrugged, awkwardly, and then moved his free hand to rub his neck. “Like, it’s supposed to purge ghostly contamination from stuff. I’ve used it before to pull overshadowing ghosts from their hosts without harming either.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So what the hell was supposed to happen if just a ghost went through it?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. But…” Phantom paused for a moment, like he was weighing his words, then marched on. “That’s not what happened. We went through it together, and it must’ve tried to purge the contamination from both of us at once, and somehow stuff got mixed up in the process.”

“You’re saying my suit was ecto-contamination?” she snarled, ignoring the implication that Phantom had contamination to purge—that he wasn’t just 100% pure ghost.

“You did get it from Technus, didn’t you?” he pointed out, almost casually. The hand in his neck stilled, fingers hooking into the edge of the helmet. “And, uh. Well…”

And, in one swift motion, Phantom took the helmet off.

“Hi, Valerie,” Danny Fenton said, his hair undeniably black and his eyes dull blue in the little light they had on their rooftop.

Valerie felt something in her stop, stutter and skip a beat. Her first thought was that it was her heart, but the feeling was wrong, it was—

She didn’t know what it was.

Light flashed, blinding her, and she automatically let go of Phantom’s—Danny’s—hand to rub in her eyes.

She could hear Danny groan in front of her, could almost imagine the echo that separated his voice from Phantom’s. “Why is that so much worse when it’s not me!”

Hands still pressed against her eyes, she bit at him, “What the hell, Danny!”

“What?” he snapped back. “What are you blaming me for now?”

Dropping her hands, she glared at him. “What the fuck was that flash of light?!”

He grinned at her, somehow looking both pleased and awkward. “Uh. My equivalent to taking off the suit?”

She blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then dropped her gaze to her hands. No longer dressed in Phantom’s suit.

Only now did she realize that her hands had been shaped wrong under the gloves.

Valerie jerked her eyes back to Danny, who once more raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Uh,” he muttered. “Surprise?”

[phantomphangphucker]

Why Am I The Confused One Here? - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @deredereart  Prompt: Valerie is questioned after a round of lazer tag with some friends because of her ridiculously good aim. Summary: Laser Tag has never had a weirder ending

No warnings apply

I can’t help my smirk as I look at the scoreboard, it’s no surprise to me that I have the most points but otherwise I’m damn surprised. Literally, all of us did damn well, I was kind of expecting to do drastically better than them instead of just marginally better. Who came in last is definitely no surprise though, he’s probably the most unfit person in our class.

That’s made even more obvious by his out of breath remark, “hey Val! That was weirdly good”

“Yeah! You hit nearly every shot you took. You do this a lot or something?”

Turning my head around to my friends, I blink and clue in that maybe, just maybe, actually trying wasn’t the greatest idea. Deciding to just run with the excuse she practically gave me, “well I needed something to do and take my anger out on after that dog shit”. Sam rolls her eyes at me, “yeah sure that’s totally the reason”, I can practically feel the sarcasm in her voice. Whelp, too late to change my story now.

“Heh, if you want we can have a one on one match. See who’s truly better, being the two higher scores”, I can’t help but smirk at Danny’s cocky challenge. I’m not too surprised he did the best of my friends, no way his parents haven’t forced target practice on him; what with their undying love for ghost hunting.

Tucker wheezes hard as he catches up to the three of us, “well it better stay one on one, cause I’m fucking out”. As if to prove his point, he animatedly flops on the ground, while we all snicker at him. “Tuck, you really are awfully out of shape”, Tucker only shrugs at Sam’s dig before turning to me, “seriously though, your aim is something else and you dodge damn good too. Unlike a certain someone”.

“Hey, you don’t need to dodge if you bury your opponent before they can shoot or shoot much anyway”, honestly Danny? What kind of strategy is that? No wonder I got you so damn much.

“That doesn’t work in laser tag Danny”, Sam rolls her eyes at him but he just sticks his tongue out her. “Well maybe we should have a paintball match then”, Tucker immediately starts waving his hands back and forth while shaking his head. “Hell no dude, you don’t even flinch from being hit. That shit ain’t fair”

Danny’s now sticking his tongue out at Tucker and man it’s obvious they’ve known each other forever. Kind of weird butting into a well-established group of friends but to hell with it, they’re lucky to have me. Even if I’m busy most of the time.

“So why are you actually good at this? Because you just taking the excuse I gave you pretty much proves it’s something sketchy or some shit”, Sam leans into me and smiles wickedly, “so spill”. Oh well, fuck that was really damn sneaky of her, impressive though. Now, what the hell am I supposed to say? “Fine, not much else to do other than paper toss and bouncing little kid balls off the walls. Happy?”, please just accept the excuse, would you?

Sam lounges against the wall, inspecting her nails as she talks, “ah the old, give ‘em an embarrassing excuse so they’ll assume you’re telling the truth because why would you make up something embarrassing? Care to try again?”, what? Wow ok, I guess I shouldn’t be shocked, pretty sure Sam sneaks around near constantly.

“Well maybe I like to have some secrets ok?”, I’ve really got nothing else to offer. And I’m almost annoyed that Danny laughs, he’s the most damn secretive person I’ve ever met!

“You could have pulled at least three more different excuses there. Heck, I can think of four off the top of my head”, I glare at Danny, because really? You’re laughing at me because I didn’t lie more? Seriously? “I’m not super big on lying Danny. Unlike you, I’m not a walking secret”. Apparently, my more or less good-natured insult, needed to be more insulting because he’s just laughing harder now. I opt to just glare at him.

Tucker pats me on the shoulder, “you should know by now that Danny takes near nothing seriously and is basically insult immune. We just rag him cause it’s fun”. I watch as Danny finger-guns at Tucker and blows imaginary smoke off his fingertip.

Danny, turning to me, “even if I’m Mr. Secretive, the weirdo trio are probably the three people you could trust most with any secret really. Even if we told, no one would believe our shit”.

Sam nods, “that may be partly because off all the crazy shit we tell teachers. I mean come on Danny, you could have just said you cut your hair up in a dare but no, instead you tell him that toothpaste ate it”. Um, what? Turning to Danny, “I mean I guess points for creativity but really? Why would anyone believe that”.

Danny snickers, “and the great thing? I wasn’t even lying. My parents make some weird shit”. Oh, you have got to be kidding me? He’s actually serious, and I thought my injuries and what not were hard to explain. Maybe they do have a bit of a point but I’m still not going to spout my shit just cause they want me too. Danny sticks his finger in the air, “however I was lying when I blamed my colour changing shirt on my dad’s latest invention”. Now I’m just confused though Sam and Tucker both look slightly angry with him. Oh, he lied to them, wow. Ok, I guess I can’t really talk but he’s super close to them, “did you really just admit you lied to them? Just like that? No prompting, nothing? That’s pretty gutsy”

“Danny knows no fear. That and he rarely cares about anything”

“Hey now, I care about you guys you ass”, Danny tilts his head to me, “it doesn’t matter if they know now since the times past. And frankly, they probably knew I was lying but just accepted it because that’s how it works with me. If I’m lying to them then they know it’s something they don’t want me to tell the truth about”. That is really messed up and makes me feel like way less of a dick for lying myself. “Well, what about my shit? So that accepting a lie only applies to you”.

Tucker rolls his eyes at me, “we always eventually get the truth from him so it’s different. That or we actually know what he’s lying about as he’s lying” Um what, “doesn’t that defeat the purpose of lying?”.

Danny shakes his head, “naw, that’s just me lying to make them feel better and so they know not to worry”. Man, even when he’s lying his being all self-sacrificial about it. “You really are too good of a guy Danny”.

Danny rubs his neck bashfully as the other two round on me again, “so obviously we’re trustworthy and skilled at secret keeping. So really, spill it”. Something tells me I’m really not going to be able to get out of this. But seriously my hunter shit is a secret for a reason, the last thing I want is them getting caught up in this crap. Sure I wouldn’t trade it for the world now, but I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I mean hell, Danny would get involved in a heartbeat to protect his friends, and that includes me, fearful of ghost or not.

But also, we’re all adults now. My friends aren’t some dumb kids getting in over their heads like I was. Hell, just being my friend gets them involved in a way. “Why do you even want to know so bad?”

“Because Sam’s nosey?”

Sam glares at Tucker before looking to me, “because we’re supposed to be friends”. Ok ouch, that was just kind of mean but I do get it a little.

“Because the two of them are heading off to college and want you to finally admit it before they fuck off. Not that I really approve of them borderline forcing whatever it is out of you”, I blink at Danny a bit because damn that’s a hell of a point. And I guess of all people, it would be the embodiment of secrets that doesn’t support forcing others secrets into the light.

Sam rolls her eyes at Danny, “we really shouldn’t have to force anything Danny. We’re friends and even if things were pretty rocky in the beginning, she’s nearly a part of the weirdo gang”.

Danny snickers, “well Tuck’s still the weirdest one”. Uh, you sure about that? Tucker seems pretty normal compared to all of your weird goings-on. Danny can clearly see I’m judging him, “hey now, I’m weird by default. Those two are weird by choice. Tuck’s just extra weird, aren’t you Mr. Meat sense”.

What? Ok there’s a story there. Danny turns his head back to me after sneering at Tucker, “we’ve all got our weird and weird is far more tolerant of weird”.

Sam nods and shrugs a bit, “I don’t think any of us could actually be friends with someone totally not weird”. Honestly, she’s pretty darn right and even I’ll admit, hanging out with average Joe’s is actually really awkward. Even with the questioning, this isn’t really awkward, and I’m starting to feel like a bit of an ass. Crap, something tells me that if I don’t own up, I’ll probably wreck any genuine friendship I’ve got going on here. “You guys aren’t going to trust me very much if I don’t tell you, are you?”, judging by Sam’s smirk, I’m completely right. 

You know what? The hell with it. I know what it’s like to have fake friends and this ain’t it; this hunter shit has already cost me a lot. I deserve genuine friends and I guess that means not being a closed off wall. Heck, Danny is a closed off wall and he obviously tells them his shit. Tells them, not me. “How about this, give a secret get a secret”, I nod at Danny to make my intentions clear. Even if he’s not the one being pushy, he’s also clearly not opposed either. Sam and Tucker both eye Danny, well at least they’re leaving it up to him, while Danny shrugs, “well duh, knowing my shit is the initiation. Can’t be one of the weirdos without it, though Jazz is only an honorary member”. Oh, OH. Ok, there’s more going on here I think, “well fine then, you sure have a weird way of establishing a true friendship though. Which I guess is a bit expected”.

Crossing my arms at them a bit, fully expecting a bit of a freakout. “I hunt ghosts alright. The red-suited one with a board. Don’t go getting invol-”, I cut myself off as I notice none of them look even slightly surprised. If anything, they’re all smirking. Squinting at them, “you already knew you asses! Didn’t you?”. Both Danny and Tucker laugh lightheartedly while Sam actually responds, “well finally and yeah. I recognised your voice on the very first day, V”. 

WHAT!? I know my mouth is gaping open so I snap it shut before opening it again to speak, “THE WHOLE TIME!?”. How the hell haven’t they called me out before? What? Tucker’s basically wheezing and sits on the ground, Danny gives me a goofy thumbs up, “yup, It’s pretty damn hard for anyone to actually keep secrets from the three of us”. Tucker laughs even harder, “dude! That makes us sound like some creepy all seeing eye”. Danny looks to Tucker judgingly, “Tuck pal, you literally hacked the navy while eating grapes this morning”. Um what?

Danny snickers at my confusion, “Tuck’s a bit of a menace”. Sam rolls her eyes at him, “last I checked, you’re the only one who’s officially called a menace, Danny. Well, at least until Tuck gets himself on a watch list”. Danny puts his hands on his hips mockingly, “hey now, the government only tries to murder me on occasion and they really suck at it”. Um what? I don’t know if he’s kidding or not. He better be because that’s, that’s just absurd.

Danny smirks at me, which I guess means my confusion is damn obvious again, “Val. My very existence is illegal in the eyes of the gov. I don’t have secrets, I am the secret”. Sam snickers, “yeah, the biggest damn one in the fucking country”. Tucker laughs, “More like the world!”.

Watching Danny blush I realise they’re being serious here, what the hell?

“See Val. This shit is why there are not really secrets in with the weirdos. There’s no damn point. Hell, for all accounts and purposes being a damn good hunter, which you are, loses its weight around what’s effectively a bunch of royalty”. What? Are they just going out of their way to confuse me now? To get back at me for lying for years, when they already damn knew?

Gaping at Danny, “what is even going on here? I mean if your goal was to confuse the hell out of me and thus distract me from the whole, you guys knew the entire time but never damn called me out, then congrats on a job well done. The hell?”.

Danny actually looks like he feels a bit bad, “our lives are a mess and weird is our norm. And Val, don’t worry about us getting involved in your ghost shit. We’re more involved than you are and for longer”, what? Well, I guess for Danny that makes some sense. Ghost hunters for family and all but still, what? Danny chuckles and continues, “you’re talking with the only humans who are actually regarded highly by ghosts. In their eyes, we’re princess,  pharaoh, and king. Bunch of ghost royalty, and yes there are long stories behind all of that”. WHAT? That doesn’t even make sense? What? I probably look like my brain is melting or something. Which it kind of is, none of this makes sense.

Sam rolls her eyes at Danny, “I think you best just let her in before she has an aneurysm or something”. Part of me says it’s way too late but yeah, explain away.

Danny shrugs animatedly, “not really sure how that will actually help, finding out your friend is practically his own unique species is more of a sure fire way to achieve brain melt”.

“Ok? Just spit it out you ass”, both Sam and Tucker glare at me for that, which I guess fine. I beat around the bush and tried to wiggle my way out of this so fairs fair I guess. But I’m not even sure what Danny’s saying at this point, this is a mental cluster fuck of dog shit proportions.

Danny laughs, “blunt corpse spilling it is”. Danny stares straight at me, which is a little unnerving, “I’m Phantom. The world’s one true halfa”.

“WHAT? I mean what?! I, you ass! You let me hunt you and then befriended me? The fuck a wrong with you?! You insane idiot!”, I can’t really help but smile though. Even if my friend is clearly a loon but hey, I’ve got a nanobot suit in my veins; that’s pretty loony too. And-HOLY SHIT! OK! I officially don’t think anything will ever shock me again after just watching Danny freaking transform into Phantom.

Danny god damn Phantom laughs as he claps his hand on my shocked shoulder, “welcome to the weirdo gang aka Team Phantom, we’re all fucked”.

End.

[gottacatchghosts]

Frame by Frame

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

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

Word count: 3360

Prompt by: @five-rivers​

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

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

Extra notes: this was a fun prompt omg

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

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

There’s something wrong with Danny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Danny laughs. “I won’t!”

He keeps the oddities to himself after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That gives Danny pause. “About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jazz smiles back. “Anytime.”

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

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

After all, the doors were open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lunagalemaster]

Faulty Shield

This was for Phic Phight! I forgot I didn’t post it to tumblr, so here it is! Trigger warnings and general ones are in the tags. Enjoy~

Setting: Obsessed AU

Title: Faulty Shield

Prompt:  Start and end the fic with the same sentence, the first time it's positive and happy. The second time it's chilling and foreboding.

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Danny will always be there to protect his family.

It’s not a task, not just a job. It’s even more than his duty as a hero! Sometimes it’s overwhelming, but making sure that nothing comes to harm the town feels like the most important thing in the world. Sure, sometimes he would like to play games with his friends, and sure, he’s tired all the time, and maybe his grades are absolutely abysmal, but really at the end of the day, these are mere annoyances.

To see them safe and sound? That satisfaction is worth more than any ‘A’ in the world. Rain or shine. Day or night. He’s ready to fight for their lives. His friends worry, like they always do. And then he’ll get stronger to make sure they don’t have to. And then he’ll be frustrated when there’s yet another really powerful ghost that just happens to know how to fight him. And then his friends try to counsel him again, that he should be more careful.

It’s a cycle, a really really frustrating one. It always seems like there’s another ghost trying to test his resolve. You’d think that after all this time, they’d get the picture, but no. Nuisances always found their way to crawl back and bug him again.

Which, he’d do. Again. And again. It doesn’t matter if he’s broken until there’s nothing left but a bloody mess, he’ll find a way to rise up and crush anyone who dares to stand between him and his family. At the end of the day, each fight is for them, to make sure they can live happily. Danny doesn’t have anything to give back other than this. As a human he’s useless. He’s just a stargazing loser with nothing better than to do than waste his life taking each day for granted.

He’s only worth as much as each smile gained from the passing days.

So he’s a hero, and that’s what he’ll always be. He’ll protect Amity Park doing what he knows best, crushing ghosts with a witty remark and an ectoblast to the face.

Because this is his town.

His family’s town.

This town is theirs. It’s why patrolling is so important. If a random ghost appeared out of the middle of nowhere and decided that hey, let’s crush this human, and that human just so happened to be one of Danny’s, and Danny was doing homework instead of fighting it, he’d never forgive himself. Instead of letting that heartache happen, it’s best to patrol. Keep the grounds from being too infested.

You know, safe.

Jazz doesn’t explore too much. She has a path she takes and she takes it often. To the school, to the library, and back home. The order of where she goes and how she gets there changes every once in awhile, but keeping three places from being ghost infested isn’t so difficult. Sometimes she goes to the grocery store or the mall, but that’s not generally an issue. It’s easy to find out when she’s going.

Jazz doesn’t have any friends outside of classes. It makes it easier.

Mom and Dad are a different story. They don’t socialize but they tend to go everywhere. Rolling up and down every narrows alleyway in their in the Fenton RV, Danny can’t keep track of where they’ll be let alone how to keep ghosts from launching a sneak attack. The best he can do is attack any vile thing that attempts to get near his parents and let that lesson sink in so far into their ectoplasmic skulls that they’ll know not to come near Amity Park ever again if they know what’s good for them.

Still, Danny tries not to worry too much. Things tend to keep away from his parents. Humans and ghosts alike disperse on sight. More than once he’s seen a little ghost dart into an alleyway when they run down the street. Plus, it’s nice that they have a reputation for potential dissection.

They’ve sworn off experimentation since Danny’s revealed that he’s Phantom, but it’s not like he’s going to tell the ghosts that. There are some secrets best kept close.

And then there’s Sam and Tucker. His lovely best friends who only want to protect him and keep him safe. He loves them with all his heart but he swears they try to give him heart attacks. Each fight, each scrape and bruise; they pile up like a quilt of pain and disappointment. They say they’re fine, but it can’t be true. If they’re fine, then Danny wouldn’t need to protect them; they wouldn’t get hurt in the first place. He tries to train them to be faster, stronger, and just plain aim better, but that damn cycle keeps coming back and bringing in more and more enemies that just want to make him and everything he loves suffer from their wrath.

His friends’ schedules depend on his. While he can keep and eye on his family at home, the same can’t be said of Tucker and Sam. Try as he might, trying to keep them consistent just leads them running into battles at an attempt of helping.

He makes due, but he wishes he doesn’t have to.

Jazz, Dad, Mom, Tucker, and Sam. They’re the most important things in his life, his reason why he keeps going. It’s scary how much this purpose torments him, but the pure joy created from their happiness is too much of a temptation to lose. Before the accident, everything felt like a mystery, like the world pulling him in every direction, turning him around and pushing him back until all he could do is look up and see the stars for a hope that something out there could give him purpose.

But these powers. They gave him, give him a reason to push forward, and he can’t afford to lose that. Not ever.

The idea of losing any of them strikes a deep fear in his heart. Trying to imagine it feels like the world stops turning and a deep rage suddenly silents any extraneous thoughts until all that’s left is a hollow void filled with only the word, “mine”.

Because they are his. To protect. To care for.

He won’t let anyone touch them.

If this meant chasing off any nobody who tried to befriend Jazz for some odd reason then he’d keep her oblivious in perfect isolation as long as he could have it and listen through every psychology lecture with an excited nod.  

If this meant sabotaging inventions to keep his parents stuck in the lab days at a time with only his and Jazz’s company, then he’d break a thousand Fenton gadgets a thousand times over and bring them dinner downstairs without a crack in his smile.

If this meant terrifying bullies or chasing girls away to keep Tucker from getting hurt by their fists or rejections then he’d be his friends shield and take all of Dash’s punches just for the chance to see those deep bruises gone forever.

If this meant dating Sam and keeping her to himself, so no filthy bug could come in and put their hands on her, then he’d hold her close, kiss her sweetly, and be everything she’d ever need even if he himself would be just content to watch the way her split ends shimmer in her hazy bedroom lights.

There’s some things Danny can’t control, people who do things illogically and make a mess of everything. No matter how many times he warns some people they always tend to crawl back and try to stick their noses where they don’t belong. It’s maddening how much he can’t seem to make his world perfect for them to live in. Or at least, as perfect as he can make it for them. Even as he tries to take every burden, there always seems to be something he misses, something he can’t keep away and it just leads to more pain and suffering.

But he’s trying. He’ll always try. Danny will keep any of his suffering silent just to keep them happy and away from all the troubles in the world. Despite every hardship thrown at them, he’ll make sure he’s there to block the worst of it. Because no matter what, the world leads to one simple truth. 

Danny will always be there to protect his family.

[darks-ink]

Dog Days

Prompt: Jack Fenton thought that all ghosts were evil, until he met a certain ghost dog. Prompt by: @purpleillusn Word count: 3,896

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

If there was one thing that Jack had been taught by his parents, it was that ghosts were evil. Every single specter, every single ectoplasmic being, they were all evil beyond salvation. Malevolent or sometimes just too thoughtless to know better, every single ghost was dangerous and harmful. There were no exceptions to this.

Dutifully, every member of the family told the rest. Parents told their children, grandparents told their grandchildren, and even aunts and uncles told their nephews and nieces. No one in the Fenton family went untold – and it was told many, many times over.

Even if life seemed intent on proving this old family knowledge wrong, Jack knew better. Even if Phantom continued to brainwash the town and the other citizens into believing him to be a protector, Jack knew better.

The small dog sitting in front of him barked. Its tail, a green flare not even connected to its body, was wagging so quickly that Jack couldn’t even track it properly. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, which was stretched wide in a doggy smile.

It was an animalistic ghost. It was too feral to do anything but act on its impulses. It should be acting on its ghostly instincts.

It should be attacking him.

It wasn’t.

It was just… behaving like a dog. Like a regular living dog.

Jack crouched, slowly to avoid spooking the ghostly dog. But it remained seated, wagging up a storm.

Frowning, Jack extended a gloved hand towards the ghost. Still, it didn’t move. Not even when his hand landed on the ghost’s head.

Why wasn’t it attacking? Especially now that he was touching it? Shouldn’t the ghost’s protective instincts kick in now? Not that Jack wanted to be mauled by a dog far smaller than him, but… it was weird. It went against all his knowledge, all his expectations.

Slowly, haltingly, Jack started moving his hand over the dog’s head. Ruffling its fur. The dog, in turn, squinted its eyes closed in pleasure. Its tongue lolled out even further.

Jack moved his hand, tickling the dog under its chin. The dog started scratching along with its hind leg.

It really was acting just like a regular dog. But its fur was green, and its eyes, before it had closed them, had been empty and red.

It was a mystery. And Jack… Well, Jack loved mysteries. Especially ghostly mysteries. How exciting! And this ghost, for whatever reason, was fine with his touching. Maybe he could research it without getting attacked!

Grinning to himself, Jack scooped up the small green canine. It fit into his arms easily, and Jack carried it pressed against his chest, leaving his right arm free so he could drive the GAV back home. And sure, maybe driving with one hand was dangerous, but his driving didn’t seem any worse than usual. He didn’t hear more honking, anyway.

“Mads?” he called, throwing open the door to FentonWorks. He made sure to raise his volume enough so she could hear him in the lab, but no answer came.

He moved closer to the lab, still carrying the ghost in his arms. “Mads?” he tried again. Still no answer.

Once he had thumped down the stairs, Jack realized that Maddie wasn’t there at all. Frowning, he moved over to one of the nearby tables, where he found… Ah, a note!

Oh. Maddie was out getting groceries. Hopefully she would remember to bring him some fudge. They could celebrate the new discoveries he was about to make thanks to this ghost dog!

Surprisingly gently, he put down the green canine on one of the examination tables. The dog, still panting and wagging its tail, sat down immediately.

Jack ran a hand over the dog, starting at its forehead and following the line of its spine. Then he frowned and repeated the motion, stopping at the neck. He dug his fingers into the plush fur, pushing it aside to reveal a spiked black collar.

He followed the line of the collar to the front, where a small round tag hung off it. Ducking down and hooking a finger underneath the tag to raise it up as well, Jack inspected it. The tag was made out of metal and primarily gray, but with a large blue A on it. Surrounding the A where two crossing rings, with four small blue dots on them.

Was this… the Axion Labs logo? Why would a ghost have such a logo on it, especially an animal like this one?

Unless… Unless it came from Axion Labs? Was it a guard dog before it died?

Jack shook off the macabre thoughts. It would do him no good to dwell on such things. He had to focus on the more important questions. Like why the ghost was acting like a regular dog instead of, well, a ghost.

An hour later, Jack still hadn’t figured out anything. There was nothing about this ghost that separated it from normal ghosts. The readings he was getting from its core were, if anything, higher than normal, rather than lower like he expected. The ghost was powerful for its small posture, but didn’t seem inclined to act on it.

It even let Jack handle it without trouble. He hadn’t done anything inhumane – insisted to himself that he didn’t want to risk damaging a valuable specimen, not that he had grown fond of the ghost – but still. Most ghosts wouldn’t have let a human touch them, never mind the in-depth tests that Jack had run on it. He had even taken a saliva sample from the ghost!

Turns out that it produced a diluted form of ectoplasm! From its mouth! To mimic a regular bodily function it had no right to express! How incredible! Even the act of panting, which was how Jack had thought to check for saliva in the first place, was something that the ghost shouldn’t be doing. After all, panting was a form of breathing – and ghosts didn’t breathe.

Well, Phantom did sometimes, but it was fond of pretending to be more human than it really was. Part of its nefarious plan to trick the city, surely. After all, if the people of Amity Park saw it as human, ghost hunters like Jack and his wife were harder pressed to stop it. Random civilians would reprimand them for hurting something so human, completely ignoring that it wasn’t.

He eyed the ghost dog speculatively. It was still sitting right where he had left it, big red eyes focused on him. It had stopped panting, and its wagging tail had slowed somewhat. It was better behaved than most living dogs, Jack thought. Maybe… Maybe he could train it?

Although it was a little small. Even if the measurements suggested that it was a moderately powerful ghost, stronger than most animalistic ghosts and the weaker humanoids, it didn’t seem that way. Did it have some sort of hidden ability?

A door slammed upstairs, snapping Jack out of his thoughts.

“Jack, honey, are you home yet?” his wife called. Jack brightened up immediately. He couldn’t wait to show Maddie the bizarre canine he had found.

“I’m in the lab!” he shouted back, unnecessarily loud. The green dog, which had looked towards the stairs when it heard Maddie, focused back on him. Its blinked at him for a moment, the empty red eyes unreadable… and then it started wagging its tail again.

“I bought you some fudge,” Maddie said as she came down the stairs, “But you can’t have it until after dinner, okay honey? Did you catch any—”

She fell silent when she saw the ghost sitting on the table in front of him. The dog had set its red gaze on her as well.

“Well,” Jack started saying. Before he could continue, however, the dog growled.

Then it barked, low and echoing. It lowered its chest to the table, raising the hind end – its tail completely still and flaring straight up.

“Jack-” The single word sounded reprimanding, but Maddie didn’t get to finish her sentence either.

The ghostly canine leapt off the table, looking like it was attempting to bowl Maddie over. It didn’t look particularly threatening, since the dog was barely tall enough to come up to her knees.

Except that it somehow grew in size. Mid-air.

By the time it hit Maddie, the ghostly canine was so large that Maddie barely reached its chest. And it was coming at her with a quite frankly terrifying speed.

Suddenly Jack understood why the ghost had measured so highly on the strength scale. But why had it suddenly turned aggressive?

He ran over to the canine, pushing against the furry side. “Stop!” he yelled, more for the idea than out of the expectation that the ghost would listen.

But it halted, lips pulled back and teeth bared. Its head was tilted towards him slightly, as if it were listening to him. Would it listen to commands still?

“Get off her!” he commanded, sternly.

The ghost hesitated for a moment. Then, unbearably slowly, it lifted its enormous paws off of Maddie. It took a few steps away from the two humans.

“Sit,” Jack demanded. And, with a thud, the enormous ghostly canine sat down.

Maddie pushed herself partly upright, leaning on her hands. “Jack,” she said, stressing the one word.

But Jack ignored her, moving closer to the canine ghost. He didn’t understand. The ghost had been perfectly docile the whole time! Why did it lash out now, of all times? Had Maddie startled it somehow?

Would it still be possible to train it?

Cautiously, he reached out towards the dog with a single hand. It was dwarfed by the ghost now, barely the size of its eye.

It didn’t move. Not even when Jack laid his hand on the ghost’s muzzle. He bit his lip, then scratched the dog under its chin.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then the dog’s tongue lolled out of its mouth again as its tail started thumping against the floor. Moments later it started scratching with its hind leg too.

Then with a pop, it returned to its smaller size.

Maddie, having gotten off of the floor while Jack was distracted, stepped next to him. The dog stiffened momentarily, but relaxed again when Jack patted it.

“Jack,” she repeated once more. Then, because she wasn’t interrupted by a canine cannonball this time, she continued, “We can’t keep it.”

“But Mads,” Jack grabbed the dog and held it up to her face, “It’s totally obedient. It would make such a great hunting dog!”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Jack. It’s a ghost.”

“Exactly! It can chase after the other ghosts, into places where we can’t get as easily!”

An even less impressed glare. “It’s a ghost. It’s a violent malevolent being. You can’t train it, and you definitely can’t keep it.” Then she brightened up a little. “Except for experimenting, of course.”

He gasped, offended, and pulled the ghost against his chest. “I’ve already done experiments on it! It was very well-behaved! And,” he ducked down and put the dog back onto the floor, “it’s obviously trained already.”

“It also attacked me the moment it saw me,” Maddie reminded him, crossing her arms.

Well, that he couldn’t deny. “Maybe… Maybe you startled it?” He offered her a sheepish grin. “Or maybe it was already a little put-off from being in the lab?”

Maddie’s sharp gaze lingered for a moment longer. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping down. “Why don’t we continue this conversation upstairs, then?”

Jack nodded his approval, moving to the stairs. The ghost dog hesitated for a moment, then trailed after him. Maddie lingered for a little longer, then followed the other two up the stairs.

“I don’t understand why you took it home in the first place,” Maddie said as she entered the living room. “Besides for studying, of course.”

“Well… That was kind of what I was doing,” Jack confessed, grinning a little. “I ran into it while hunting, and it didn’t behave like normal ghosts. So I took it here to study it.”

He grabbed the small dog off of the floor and put it onto his lap, patting it with one massive hand. “I noticed that it behaved like a plain old dog, instead of as a ghost. But none of its results came out any different!”

“So then there is no guarantee that it is any different.” Maddie crossed her arms, sitting down in an armchair rather than next to Jack on the couch. He would feel offended, but he was pretty sure she was avoiding the ghost, not him. “Or that it can be trained to behave differently.”

“Well, no-” Jack started saying, but he broke off when the dog leapt off of his lap and onto the floor. It stood still for a long moment.

Then its ears perked up, as if it had heard something outside. Its tail started wagging up a storm again.

“Mads,” Jack interrupted the incoming rant from his wife, “Look at the dog.”

She snapped her mouth shut and turned to look. The green canine now stood crouched, its upper body lowered to the ground. Its tail was still moving wildly, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. It barked once, sharp and… excited?

“What is it responding to?” she asked, or started to ask. But the door opened and the dog shot off like a bullet from a gun.

Jack, and based on her reaction Maddie as well, immediately thought back to the lab earlier. They got out of their seats, ready to pull the dog off of their child-

But they stopped when they heard laughter, of all things.

“C-Cujo?” Danny’s voice rang out, in-between chuckles. “What’re you doing here, boy?”

Jack moved in closer, and could now see that the dog had remained small. It had tackled Danny flat onto his back, and stood on his chest, wagging up a storm. It was also liberally covering Danny’s face with ectoplasmic drool. Jack was glad that he had researched that, so he knew that it was safe.

“Danny-boy!” he boomed instead. “Do you know that little rascal?”

Danny shot upright, eyes big as he looked at Jack, then Maddie, and then finally at the small green dog which he now held in his hands. “I, uh…”

Maddie sighed, heavy and weary. “Like father like son, I suppose.” Then she shook her head and set a harsh glare on their son. “But you should know better than to associate with ghosts, young man.”

Danny grinned sheepishly, setting down the dog on the floor next to him. As he stood up, he said, “Cujo didn’t exactly give me a choice. He keeps coming to me. At least if I keep an eye on him, I can make sure that he doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Her gaze lingered for a moment longer, then the tension leaked from her shoulders again. “I guess I can’t punish you for it if your father did the same.”

Danny’s face brightened, and he scooped the dog off of the floor again. What had he called the ghost? Cujo? “Thanks mom.” Then he seemed to process the rest of the sentence, as he frowned. “Wait, what do you mean ‘dad did the same’? How did Cujo even get here?”

“Ah.” Jack scratched his cheek, uneasy now that both Danny and Maddie were looked at him, gazes expectant. “I, uh. Ran into him while ghost hunting.”

“And you didn’t shoot him/it?” Danny and Maddie questioned simultaneously. Then they shot each other a look, before turning back to him again.

“Yes, well. No, I mean.” Jack was feeling increasingly nervous under the watchful eyes of his son and his wife. “I noticed that its behavior was off before I got a chance to. And then I was curious as to why it was so different, so I took it back to the lab.”

Danny stiffened, eyes flicking down to the dog in his hands. “You studied him?” he asked, horrified.

Jack flapped a dismissive hand. “Nothing invasive. And it didn’t mind, I don’t think. It certainly didn’t try to attack until your mom came in.”

“Oh.” Danny held out the dog to glare at it. “Cujo,” he said with a reprimanding tone, “No attacking humans! I keep telling you this.”

The dog continued to wag his tail, yipping in answer. Danny sighed, pulling the dog closer to his chest again.

“Does it ever listen?” Maddie wondered, looking intrigued at the display. “Or can it not be trained?”

Shifting the dog into one arm, Danny used his other to make a so-so motion. “He usually listens, although sometimes it takes some repeating before he remembers. But he always listens if you tell him to stop.”

“Like in the lab, then.” Maddie turned to look at Jack, calculating. “And you say that it can be trained?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny shifted from one foot to another, uncomfortable now that he was in the spotlight again. “Although he is already trained in some of the basics. I’m pretty sure that he was a guard dog before he died, or trained to be one, at least.”

“That’s right!” Jack perked up at the mention, remember the tag on the dog’s collar. “I saw the tag. Axion Labs, right?”

But Maddie shook her head dismissively. “Why would one of their guard dogs die, let alone become a ghost?”

“Uh, because Axion put down all their dogs when they got a new security system?” Danny frowned, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “I dunno why Cujo became a ghost, specifically, but I know that that was a thing.” He didn’t explain how he knew.

Jack would’ve questioned him about it, but he got distracted by the proof that the ectoplasmic canine could be trained. “See, Mads,” he boomed, smiling widely, “Just like I said! It could make a fantastic ghost-hunting hound!”

“Or a pet,” Danny grumbled under his breath, cradling the ghost to his chest.

“Nonsense.” Jack scooped the dog from Danny’s arms, holding out towards Maddie. “Besides, you’ve already seen its potential. I can’t wait to see Phantom’s expression when this ghost catches it!”

“Actually,” Danny interrupted, stepped closer as if thinking about grabbing the dog back. “I don’t think that that will be happening. He likes Phantom.”

Maddie’s eyes snapped from the ghostly canine in front of her to Danny. The boy in question flinched back a step. “How would you know that?”

“Cujo keeps following me, and Phantom hunts down every ghost in the city.” Danny thew up his hands in exasperation. “Of course I’ve run into him!”

She eyed him for a moment longer. Jack slowly put down the dog, careful not to draw her attention – or her ire. “Fine. But you’re wearing a Specter Deflector to make sure Phantom stays away from you.”

“What?” Danny’s eyed widened, and he took another step back. “No! Phantom is harmless, and he never tried anything to hurt me or Cujo! Quite the opposite – he’s the reason why Cujo wasn’t constantly following me around!”

“But you should know better than to associate with ghosts,” Maddie insisted, crossing her arms. “And they’re clearly influencing you already – you of all people should know that Phantom isn’t a he but an it.”

Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t answer.

After that, the silence turned awkward. It lingered for what felt like an eternity.

And then the door opened again.

The ghost dog shot off of the floor again, launching itself at whoever was in the door opening. Jazz, probably, since no one but their family walked straight in. Well, Sam and Tucker did sometimes, but usually they were with Danny when they did that.

Jazz screeched, but managed to catch the dog in her arms before she went down. Jack involuntarily let out an impressed whistle.

“Good catch,” Danny complimented, blinking away his surprise. His sister just grumbled out an incomprehensible answer as her face was slathered in ectoplasmic drool.

“No worries, Jazzy-pants,” Jack comforted as he moved to pick the dog out of her arms. “It’s not dangerous.”

Jazz shot Danny a glare, then turned to her dad. “The dog or the drool?”

“Both,” Danny said, as Maddie simultaneously answered, “Neither.” They shot each other a glance again, Danny’s expression sheepish while Maddie looked tired. Or angry. Maybe both.

“The drool,” Jack affirmed, taking the ghost into his own arms. “And arguably the dog, too. We were still talking about getting it trained to hunt ghosts.”

“Really?” Jazz quirked an eyebrow, unsure. “You want to train a ghost to hunt other ghosts? But when Phantom does it, it’s a sign of dishonesty and evil plans?”

“Well, yeah.” He raised the dog up, as if he was showing it off. “Because this is gonna be a ghost that is following the instructions of its human masters. Phantom is a rogue spirit.”

“What if he wasn’t?” Danny licked his lips, nervous as the other three turned their attention to him. “What if… What if a human was instructing Phantom to protect Amity from other ghosts?”

Maddie snorted. “Then they would be borrowing trouble. Sooner or later, Phantom will turn on them – and the town. You can’t control a ghost.”

Aggravated, Danny waved a hand at Jack and the ghostly canine in his arms. Maddie rolled her eyes. “Yes, even that one. As I’ve been saying, Jack, we can’t keep it.”

“Aww.” He lowered the ghost again, holding it at chest level. “But imagine how much it could help with ghost hunting!”

“No,” Maddie repeated, firmly. Her eyes were steely, sharp and cutting. “Either it goes into the Ghost Zone, or I’m taking it down to the lab for examination.”

Danny gasped, and Jazz winced. “Fine,” Jack sighed, cradling it closer to his chest.

Maddie’s eyes lingered on the spectral canine, committing it to memory. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that she would recognize it, if it ever returned. And, if Danny had been telling the truth, it likely would.

He walked back into the lab, his footsteps echoing in the silent room. More footsteps, quieter, followed him. He turned, expecting to see Maddie. Instead he saw his son, who shrugged under his father’s watchful eye.

“Just wanted to make sure you actually let him go,” the boy confessed. Then, after a moment, “And to make sure he doesn’t immediately come back. I think he digs through the Portal doors, somehow.”

“Ah.” That explained it. Danny was worried about the canine. He was always a bit of a hero. Protector of those who couldn’t do it themselves. It made sense that he stood up for the ghost.

It made sense that he defended Phantom. He saw himself in the spirit.

And maybe… Maybe his son had a point.

Jack looked at the small ghost in his hand. It panted at him, wagging its flame-like tail. If this animalistic ghost defied its nature, why couldn’t a more humanoid one?

Danny opened the Portal as Jack stood in front of it. Once the doors were fully opened, Jack carefully took the dog towards the swirling green mass.

“Goodbye Cujo,” he said, as the ghost was drawn back into its home dimension.

He had a lot to think about.