#wes weston: ranting about danny being phantom

[starry-bi-sky]

More clone^2 snippets

Snippet 12: hands

Lancer: dear god, Mr. Fenton, what happened to your hands!?

Danny, had a run in with Damian’s katana and both of his hands have stitches: um… cooking… accident. I can’t use them that much currently

Lancer, pale: right, yes, of course. You may have one of your friends right you notes until they are properly healed

————

Snippet 13: more hands (and dash is a dick)

Dash: I bet Fenturd’s just faking his hand injury to get out of doing class work. Getting out of classwork is my thing! I’ll show him.

Danny, minding his own business:

Dash, yanks on his fingers harshly: Freak! Did you think you could copy me and het away with it?

Danny, his stitches torn from the way Dash grabbed him: you’re the last person I’d want to copy Dash, let go.

Dash: we all know you’re faking the hand injury, there’s no way you’d— you’d—

(Danny’s hands are bleeding, and starting to smear on Dash’s hands.)

Danny, (fake) calmly: you were saying, Dash?

Dash: I - uh—

Danny: thanks for opening them up, jerk.

—————

Snippet 14: Danny is Bruce’s Clone and Bruce Wayne has been hottest man alive for many consecutive years

The A-Lister Girls are at a sleepover

Star: Never have I ever had a crush on Danny Fenton

All girls (including Star): puts a finger down

A-List Girl: Paulina put your finger down

Paulina, begrudgingly putting a finger down: he shouldn’t count - he’s a loser!

A-List Girl: he’s still the cutest boy in our grade. Put your damn finger down.

—————

Snippet 15: unstoppable force vs immovable object

(In the Clone Danny Au, since Danny is not a ghost Valerie doesn’t see Phantom as the guy who ruined her life, but a very exhausted vigilante trying his best. They’re allies with conflicting ideologies on how to handle ghosts.)

Red Huntress: are you kidding me, Phantom? You dragged a kid in with you to fight ghosts? I thought you were better than that

Wraith, offended: *opening his mouth*

Phantom, tiredly putting a hand over Damian’s mouth: *in ASL + one hand* you don’t think I tried to stop him?

Red Huntress: he’s a child, Phantom, how hard could it be?

Phantom: looks down at Wraith

Wraith: looks up at Phantom with the eyes of a hundred enraged bulls

Phantom, kneeling down to Wraith and pulling his mask up to show his mouth: *whispering inaudibly*

Wraith: *takes off in the opposite direction*

Phantom, standing up to Red: *ASL* well? go get him

————

Snippet 16: identity

(Danny and Damian are sitting on a rooftop, in the middle of a break from patrol. Damian sits between Danny’s legs and Danny is slumped over Damian’s back.)

Damian, playing with Danny’s fingers:

Danny: who are you?

Damian: Damian.

Danny: who are you not?

Damian: Damian Wayne.

Danny: do you have to be?

Damian: no.

Danny: who do you have to be?

Damian: I just have to be me.

Danny: who are you?

Damian: I’m Damian.

Danny: good.

Damian:

Danny:

Damian: who are you?

Danny, smiling: Danny

—————

Snippet 17: long hair

(In the Clone Danny Au, Danny’s hair goes to his shoulders. I was in a GNC mood at the time the au was made and it passed on to Danny.)

Tucker: are you going to cut your hair, Danny? It’s getting long.

Danny, laying against the bed frame with Sam doing his hair: probably to get the dead ends cut off. I like it long.

Sam: I like it long too.

Tucker: you like it long because he lets you do whatever you want to it

Sam: it’s also a stand against the oppressive stereotype that men can’t have long hair and must always have it short in order to appear masculine! Danny’s showing individuality and sticking it to the patriarchy at the same time!

Danny: and because I let you do whatever you want to it.

Sam, making a punk hairdo for danny: yea that too

——————

Snippet 18: Danny is Bruce Wayne’s clone and Bruce——

Danny, getting stuff from his locker: my parents have a new ‘Fenton anti-ghost sticky bomb’ they’re working on and—

Student with a photography camera: Hey, Fenton!

Danny, looking over: what?

Student: *snaps a photo* thanks!

Student walks away

Danny:

Tucker:

Sam:

Danny: so… um…. Is that- is that another Wes? Should I be worried?

Sam: you should be angry! He just took your picture without your consent! That’s a violation of your bodily autonomy.

Danny: we can keep an eye on it, Sam, and if it becomes an issue then I’ll report it to a teacher.

Danny: and as I was saying, I can’t wait to have to make sure that that doesn’t hurt anyone.

Danny: i love having to stay up late sabotaging my parents’ inventions. Yay…

—————

Snippet 19: Danny is Bruce’s clone and—

Wes: ranting about how Phantom = Danny and how there’s proof and he has it and—

Random Student from his photography club: you wanna kiss him so bad it makes you look stupid.

Wes: I do nOT

Student: Its okay Wes, so does literally everyone else.

—————

Snippet 20: Lookalike

Danny: the only good thing about being Bruce Wayne’s clone is that my Brucie Wayne Impression is spot on

Damian: what??

Danny: my Brucie Wayne impression. It shouldn’t be as fun as it is doing it

[ordinarydoodles]

Wes would upload either the most amazing or most horrible videos ever, with absolutely no in-between.

[a-closet-emo]

Phic Phight 2k20

Team Ghost

Title: Fenton, the Theory.

Prompt: Wes forms a Conspiracy Club or something similar. A couple people join because they're interested, but it's really just a cover for Wes to rage about how Fenton is Phantom... except he actually convinces at least one person.

Prompt by: @babyhedgehog-cutebutdeadly

Word Count: 1411

Warnings: Gore

Edward Lancer strode down the empty halls of Casper High, cup of coffee in hand and clipboard in the other. It was a Saturday, and the school’s building was a ghost town (well, a ghost town in the more traditional sense), almost completely devoid of life. Today was not the first time he had taken an extra shift to make a little extra cash, and he was in charge of overseeing the clubs that held meetings on weekends and the students who had to take make-up tests.

He passed by the classrooms being used by the clubs, peeking in every now and then. The science club, the drama club, the anime club…. Lancer yawned and took a sip from his coffee. Everything was business as usual. He slowed down as he approached a classroom where a few teens were standing in the doorway. This club wasn’t familiar to Lancer and he looked at the list on his clipboard. Hmmm, let’s see, classroom 5B was scheduled to be used by… the Conspiracy Club? That’s new.

“—whenever he runs off, Phantom shows up!” Wes exclaimed.

“But haven't they been seen in the same room?” one student said as another interjected, “Save it for when the club meeting actually begins, Weston.”

Wes smacked a hand to his forehead and went on, ignoring the latter student. “Ghosts can duplicate! He obviously did that to save his sorry hide from being found out!” the redhead insisted.

This earned Wes a few skeptical stares. “Look, I bet you a couple - no, five - bucks that Fenton’ll come charging out of that classroom,” he said pointing at Lancer’s destination, “ any minute now, saying that he needs to use the bathroom or some other poorly concocted excuse.”

Lancer moved on, shaking his head. Another glance at his list told him that Wes was the club’s president. Of course he would form such a club. Oh well, the boy’s been too worked up lately. It would be good for him to have a healthy outlet to discuss an interest shared by others in an organized and calm setting rather than shrieking his theories at the top of his lungs standing on a table in the cafeteria. Lancer shook his head and moved on. By The Screwtape Letters, he would not forget that eventful lunch.

As he made his way to the classroom where the makeup tests were being held, the only student scheduled to take the tests today burst out the door, sprinting toward Lancer.

“Oliver Twist! Mr. Fenton, what are you—!”

“Sorry, Mr. Lancer, but I really gotta use the bathroom—,” Danny called over his shoulder, the boy already past Lancer. “—super quick I forgot to go earlier and now my bladder is acting up it’s really bad is that cool? Ok bye!”

Lancer stood speechless as Danny spewed out the last part while already sprinting down the hallway in the opposite direction of the nearest toilet.

Nearby, two kids lost ten bucks to Wes.

——

Lancer made his way back to the classroom where Danny was supposed to be taking the makeup tests, his spirits low. He had looked everywhere for the boy. He had gone in the direction Danny had sprinted away, he’d checked all the bathrooms on the floor and the one below it, he’d explored classroom after classroom, he’d gone on the intercom, but the boy seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Lancer sighed deeply. He knew the teen was bright and had lots of potential, if only he would attend class. By this point, he had missed so many classes he was at risk of being held back or even being expelled. Especially now, he just couldn’t understand why the young man was evading a makeup test he had even arrived early for, seeing as how he had been in the classroom before Lancer had even arrived at the school.

It was a shame, really.

As Lancer passed the classrooms currently in use, he heard muffled shouts coming from one of the clubs.

He stopped in front of the Conspiracy Club’s door and sighed. He hoped against hope that the commotion had nothing to do with Wes. He peeked through the door’s window, eavesdropping in case intervention on his part was necessary.

“—AAAND ANOTHER THING!” Wes said, pacing the room and making agitated gestures with his hands. He must have been relishing the only audience he’s had in months.“He always comes back or shows up with mysterious injuries! Cuts, bruises, hell, he even showed up to gym one time limping!—“

A brunette wearing glasses spoke up, “Wes, we know you’re president, but you’ve gotta give us a chance to talk here.”

Wes, however, went on. “—And once, I caught on on video Manson and Foley RESETTING HIS SHOULDER in the boys’ locker room! Of course Fenton later broke my camera, but how can everyone ignore all the other blatant evidence I’ve collected—“

Lancer shook his head as he moved forward, and the sounds of the club were replaced by the silence of the empty halls. The Rats of Nimh, that boy did not stop. He would have a word with Mr. Weston about spreading rumors later.

He finally made it to the classroom where Danny was supposed to be. He stopped in front of his classroom’s built-in window, and was surprised to see the boy already there. He moved to enter the classroom, but something stopped him.

The boy was at his desk, but the lights were dimmed and flickering, the curtains drawn. He was cradling his right arm, and Lancer peered closer through the window, brows furrowing in concern.

Then Danny stretched out his arm, and Lancer paled. The limb was peppered up and down with cuts and bruises, colored green and red by the malfunctioning lights. The arm itself was bent completely in the wrong direction, the lower half of it perpendicular to the floor in a way it never should be. He felt sick, but he stood transfixed, hand on the doorknob, and watched as Danny gritted his teeth and brought his other hand (also covered in scrapes) over to the injured one. There was a split second as Danny grasped his injured arm at the broken area that gave Lancer time to realize what the boy was doing. Then Danny quickly and forcefully pushed his bones into their proper positions, making terrible snapping sounds as he went.

Lancer let out a small whimper. Suddenly, the teen looked directly at Lancer, their eyes locking for a split second before the room’s flickering lights went out. That split second, however, had been enough for Lancer to doubt that the toxic green eyes he had seen were a trick of the light.

He backed away from the door, trembling.

Meanwhile nearby, a classroom door slammed open, and Wes stormed out.

——

“I can’t believe this! I’m the president of this club! I started it! How dare you form a conspiracy to depose me?” the redhead pointed accusingly at the brunette with glasses whose name he had forgotten. She was now standing at the front of the classroom, with the rest of the club standing literally and figuratively by her side.

“Wes, admit it, you made this club just so you could rant about your crazy theory.”

“I-“

“-Which,” she continued, “we wouldn’t have minded so much if you’d simply given everyone else a chance to share their theories and conspiracies. This is a community, and you completely ignored that.” The small crowd around her nodded and murmured their agreement. Someone in the crowd added, “Your theory is dumb, anyway!”

Wes spluttered, looking for a defense. Looking around, however, he realized he was defeated. So he held his head high, turned on his heel, flipped the bird, and marched out of the classroom slamming the door open as he went.

——

The young man stalked past Lancer, mumbling a few insults and curses.

“The theory’s not dumb,” Wes said to no one. “And it’s not a theory! Fenton didn’t even come up with a clever name! Phantom and Fenton sound the same!”

Then he noticed Lancer, whose back was against the wall.

“Uhh, Mr. Lancer?” the boy asked, waving his hand in front of Lancer’s face. With the man unresponsive, Wes shrugged and moved on, thoughts still on his recent kicking from his own club.

——

There was no way Wes was actually right, was there?

Moby Dick, Lancer needed a drink.

[gearsforyears]

Prompt Request: Danny and friends discovering an in-universe phansite dedicated to speculating about the local ghost boy and his shenanigans.

This??? Was so??? Much fun??? To write?????? Thank you so much for the prompt!!! ;w;

“Danny! You have to see this!”

Said halfa in question groaned; he, Sam, and Tucker were busy trying to get homework done before patrol that night. And with the way his grades are currently? Yeah, getting distracted was something he didn’t need at the moment. But Tucker stretched his arms way above his head, letting loose a groan as Danny heard his bones pop, “Hey, you guys up for a five minute break?”

Sam curled her toes to get some feeling back into them before standing up, “Yep. How about you, Danny?”

Despite the urge to do his homework like he was determined to do, Danny had to admit that a break sounded amazing. They had been doing Precalculus for a good hour, and his brain needed rest, “Sure. But we should get this finished before patrol…” He warned.

“Oh, c’mon Danny; we’ll get it all done before tonight,” Tucker rolled his eyes. Sam was walking out the door already with her arms above her head, fitted comfortably in Danny’s sweatshirt and a pair of Tucker’s cargo pants. The technofreak still had no clue how she got a hold of their clothes when they weren’t looking, but he dismissed the suspicions to keep talking, “Besides, Jazz sounded excited about something.”

Sam looked over her shoulder, “Let’s just hope it’s not a new psychology therapy session theory she wants to try out on us.” She shivered before continuing, “I still remember the last time she tried something in those college books of hers on us.”

It was Danny’s turn to roll his eyes at his friends before ushering them out into the hallway and hurriedly making their way into Jazz’s overly pink room. Said sister was curled up in her chair in front of her computer screen, her face red and a smile plastered on her face. Danny wasn’t sure what was making her convulse in the manner she was, but after a moment realized that his sister was laughing.

She pulled her orange hair up into a tight bun and wiped any stray tears from her eyes before leaning out of the chair to stand up, “Y-You guys have at it. I need to get something to calm me down…” She let out a laugh behind a hand, “By the Ancients, the comments are hilarious.”

Danny raised an eyebrow at the curse, recognizing as something that he says too often for his own good. But the surprise quickly went away as he saw the black, white, and green background of Jazz’s computer screen. He sat down in the chair and read the blog title, ‘The Phantom Conspiracy!’

Tucker let out a small breath he wasn’t sure he was holding before jumping into Danny’s lap to see the computer better, to which Danny groaned at the unexpected weight, “You’re too heavy, get off.”

“Stop whining!” Tucker cheekily smiled, “Besides, I’m not that heavy, and you have super strength.”

“Get used to it, Danny,” Sam smirked before collapsing on top of both of them, making the two of them groan beneath her, “Either you make room, or you deal with the two of us.” She popped her gum loudly to make her point, earning her a glare from the two boys below her.

They settled into the chair quickly, Danny supporting both friends’ weight on his legs. As they all found a comfortable position, the three juniors read a few of the articles to themselves.

“Danny, Danny, click on that one! It’s all fanfiction about you!” Tucker pointed and practically yelled. A click later, and the techie was guffawing, getting himself drunk on the giggles that the new page produced, “People ship you with other ghosts! Look, even with our infamous Red Huntress! And Box Ghost!”

Danny rolled his eyes and clicked away from the page, not wanting to have Tucker beg him to read some of the more smutty stories on the site. How was that even allowed on a public internet server? He wasn’t even human! Sam leaned over the two of them and pointed to a tab that Danny clicked, “The Phantom Experience? Why does this sound like a spa treatment?”

He gave out a sigh as he clicked on the page, already feeling slightly uncomfortable with the entire website. Danny vaguely wondered who would even start a blog like this, and how the hell was it so popular?! “Is this… An origin story?”

“WHAT?!” Danny and Tucker leaned in closer, and Tuck read the article out loud for everyone to listen to, “‘Danny Phantom, the mysterious ghost boy, had appeared almost two years ago to save the residents of Amity Park. But where did this ghost come from? There aren’t any reported deaths of people who look exactly like the ghost-’ Dude! This is totally an origin story!”

“Well? What does it say?” Danny asked, with a newfound fervor. With all the other supers in the world, he didn’t want people to think he had a lame origin. What if the freaking Batman found out if he had a horrible backstory? (Although, Danny still wasn’t too impressed that he him having half-died is his origin, seeing as Superman came from an entirely different planet, but he could deal with it).

Sam scanned the page quickly, and pointed near the end, drawing their attention to a hand drawn picture of the halfa with a section under it, “It says here that you died thousands of years ago!”“That doesn’t make any sense!” Danny exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. A groan escaped his lips as he covered his face with a hand, feeling his cheeks and ears flame up a bit at the inaccuracies, “What feasible proof is there?”

“Remember ol’ Vladdie man taking the Infimap from the Far Frozen clan?” Danny looked up, slightly horrified that someone traced him back that far, “Looks like someone in Rome wrote about you, and same in ancient China, and again in Salem. People seem to think you liked to lay low then, but now feel a duty to protect this place in particular because of all the ghost attacks.”

“Why would anyone want to know my history that badly?” He murmured. Danny had to admit that he felt almost violated at the blogger’s want to find out more about him. He looked at the author and saw a familiar name, “Paulina?!”

Sam nodded, taking the mouse and clicking on a few other articles, “Seems like she’s written a majority of these, actually.” The goth leaned in closer to the screen, “She’s not that bad a a writer. Huh.”

“Can we get back on topic here?” Danny practically groaned, rubbing his temples. He was going to need so much aspirin to get rid of the headaches this was giving him, “I thought this was supposed to be funny, not mortifying.”

A few clicks, and Tucker got them to the comment section of the origin story that Paulina had written out. Said technofreak slipped off of the armrest and landed directly in the center of Danny’s lap, making him cringe while Tucker stared at the screen in awe, “Oh. My. God. Wes posted about you being Phantom online!”

Sam leaned closer as well, deciding to ruin Danny’s night more by falling into Tucker’s lap so the both of them were once again crushing Danny beneath them. A majority of the messages were from Wes Weston, the brat that was constantly trying to get Danny in trouble and casually spread his secret around like the common cold. But she had to admit, the conversations in the comments were hilarious.

WWeston: Phantom isn’t that old! He’s fucking 16! It’s Danny Fenton, you guys are all idiots!

Beauty Queen: Wes can i post one thing on this blog without you claiming this every time?

StarQuarterback: theres??? proof??? in the article??? about phantom being in rome? wes can you stfu

WWeston: I have literally seEN FENTON TURN INTO PHANTOM HES NOT THAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT HE DOESNT CARE IF YOU SEE HIM

Beauty Queen: Are you just jealous because Phantom was crowned honorary homecoming King and you werent?

WWeston: 1, YOU GAVE THE CROWN TO PHANTOM and 2, I WOULDNT BE JEALOUS OF A FENTON

KwanL: God, wes, just let it go.

Beauty Queen: He’s totally jealous of Phantom, someone make some fanfiction of these two omfg

WWeston: HES FENTON AND IM NOT FUCKIN GAY

StarQuarterback: It’s not gay if he’s dead, bro. We got you a tshirt about it man

WWeston: I burned it. I’m not wearing anything involving that half-ghost freak! And it’s stILL GAY

KwanL: What the hell are you talking about???? Phantom is a ghost, it’s impossible for a half-ghost to exist. Get your ass out of fairytale land mr.basketball

Now was when Danny had finally found the entire endeavor of reading these worth his time away from homework. Wes had an account on a Danny Phantom blog to rant to others about how he was half-ghost, and the best part was no one believed him. How stupid could people get?

And Mr. Basketball? Danny had to remember to use that line next time he saw the redhead approach him with his newest conspiracy about him. He looked over to see Sam on the floor, clutching her stomach, and Tucker, who was still seated in Danny’s lap, was halfway out of the chair, tears streaming down his face. A knock resounded in the room, and Jazz came back in with cups of tea for everyone, “T-To soothe your throats from… pffft… the laughing.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Basketball,” Tuck’s statement sent everyone into another round of laughter, and Danny had to admit. Sometimes, it was good to take a break.