#scary fentonworks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aenxiome · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11 (most likely part one):

Is this friend behavior ? NoPe

I end up wandering around for the rest of lunch. I don’t know what anyone else heard of our conversation, and I’m not interested in finding out. With timing and invisibility, it’s easy to avoid everybody. Nevertheless, my mind keeps going to their accusation. It echoes through my mind, “..dragging us into your messes!” Anger, I feel nothing but anger. How could they think that! What started all this in the first place was Sam. She just couldn’t take no for an answer, “ It’s just one picture, Danny; what’s the hurt?” The hurt, oh, nothing much, just around one million watts of electricity.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t go against them. Peer pressure can be a bitch like that sometimes, but I tried to do it safely. I wore a hazmat suit, rubber sole shoes, and all; not that it made a difference.

There is still a massive hole leading to the afterlife in the FENTONWORKS™ basement. They've complained about the outcome enough for me to understand their feelings. The ghosts are “ annoying, an inconvenience, scary,” but the abilities that come with being one? Apparently, to them, my “Superpowers” are fun. Something to be used as entertainment, for playing the “Hero.” Not what I’d call what this is, but they’re not really superpowers now, are they? I thought they understood what this meant to me.

I thought I was their friend, but nowadays, it seems like I’m nothing but “ some creepy little boy with creepy little powers," not that I can tell anyone the truth. It’s one thing to think it to myself, to think of the possibility that what Spectra had said all that time ago to be true.

But nowadays, accepting the implications of what’s happened seems closer to fact than anything else. So far, I've only ever tentatively brought this stuff up to Frostbite and Clockwork, and from the looks of it, what's going on isn’t good. Or at least not good for a human.

I don’t look any older since the accident. I haven't grown a millimeter. All the clothes Jazz thought I could grow into are still baggy on me, and my shoes still have room to grow into. I’m practically swimming in them. Not to mention my voice. Everyone elses’ has started to change. The girls no longer sound like they are imitating Barbie or Minny Mouse, and the guys' voices are beginning to crack and become lower and smother. In comparison, I sound like Micky Mouse on helium.

Frostbite said I need to spend more time in the realms, not just when I feel the need, but for relaxation and leisure. That it’s not healthy for my core– I’m probably going to need to spend more time there since my core type has changed, damn– that it needs the heavy, rich ectoplasm to be healthy. Not just that either; he’s even suggested that I try to start eating some of it. Not that it's ever turned out great doing that unintentionally in the past. Jazz can verify that she still remembers the turkey incident of 20XX.

I'm not what I was before. Which just doesn't make sense. Vlad has aged since the time he was in college. So why is it that my body has practically become frozen in time, but changes, aging, have continued for him?

Why does—

I lose my train of thought as the school bell shrieks, releasing everyone to the next class. I go and hide in the bathroom, then once it’s clear, I release my invisibility. Releasing the ability gives my core relief that I did not know I needed. Almost as if I was catching my breath after a marathon. I check my phone for any messages when I notice the time. It's been about 20 minutes since our fight in the cafeteria, meaning I kept up invisibility for almost 20 minutes. We’ve measured things like strength of ectoblasts and flight speed, but we never tested endurance for invisibility and intangibility.

What else can I can do?

Now isn’t the time to think about this. I leave the bathroom and walk slowly toward my next class. I’m almost there when an announcement comes over the PA, “ Daniel Fenton to the office. I repeat Daniel Fenton to the office.” I make my way there, and once I enter, I get directed to Mr. Lancer's office.

I knock a couple times on the door until I get a signal to come in. The office is still as dingey and outdated as the last time I was here. He motions for me to take a seat, and we are encased in silence once I do. He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me as if a secret message is hidden in my appearance. Finally, he lets out a huff before asking, “ Why do you think you're here today, Mr. Fenton?”

I can't help but stare at the wall, “ if I had to guess, it’s because of the cafeteria. We were a bit loud,” I admit.

He snorts, “ loud is a bit of an understatement.” He waits until he can catch my eye as he continues, “ We understand you kids get loud, and arguments happen, but one of the comments we heard has given us some cause for concern.” I brace for the inevitable for Tuckers' words, “... first the superpowers,” to come to light. Then, for our connection to Phantom, myself to come up with, “it’s not like I pushed a thermos into your hands and forced you into anything!”

He looks disappointed in me as he says,“ we have to check. Have you been drinking alcohol on school grounds?”

What, “ no, of course not, Mr. Lancer.” He doesn’t look convinced, “ Then, in that case, you wouldn’t mind showing me the thermos in question.” I shrug and dig through my bag, looking for a thermos. Once Jazz learned about it being a capture device, she advised me to keep a spare on me to use as an extra. I never thought I would have to use it like this. Once I find the right one, I hand it over to Mr.Lancer for him to inspect it. He opens it to see what I know to be just plain water and smells it.

He immediately closes it, then hands it back, “ I'm sorry for the confusion, but I hope you understand I had to make sure.” I reassured him that I understood why and was dismissed from his office.

I go straight to class and do my best to ignore Sam and Tucker for the rest of the day. When the final bell shrieks to release us, I rush to gather my things and make my way out of the building. It only takes me a moment to spot Jazz's car and even less for me to phase into it. I start getting incoming calls and texts from the two of them, but I ignore them all And wait for Jazz to come. The parking lot is about empty when she comes out of the building. Trailing behind her are Sam and Tucker talking to her about something, probably our argument . Before they can spot me, I turn invisible and shoot Jazz a text, ‘ Plz don't give them a ride home.’ I can see her confused face the moment she sees it but goes along with my request.

She tells them goodbye and then gets in the car.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost #child of the underworld #danny

9 notes · View notes

half-deadmagicperson · 1 year

Text

And He Answered

Chapter 5

For @phicphight

Words for this chapter: 1447

Prompt: Mermaid AU, where instead of being ectobiologists, Jack and Maddie Fenton study wildlife from under the sea— specifically mermaids. Amity Park is next to multiples large lakes and rivers, the Ghost Zone is underwater, all the ghosts are mers, and Danny is struggling to find a way to explain his sudden aversion to any things water. (By @erebecula )

No warnings that I can think of for this chapter!

First | Prev | Next | AO3

Danny walked up to the staple restaurant of Amity Park, Nasty Burger. Formally called Tasty Burger (before some classic vandalism), Nasty Burger is the best place for a quick meal. It was also the chosen spot for Danny and his friends to hang out.

The youngest Fenton emerged from his sister's car to greet his friends. A pale goth, accompanied by a darker skinned geek in a barret, walked over to Danny.

"Hey dude! Glad you could make it!" The geek, Tucker, greeted.

"Me too! Did you guys claim our spot?" Danny asked. He turned over to the goth. Sam nodded her head with a smile.

"We should probably order before they kick us out for loitering," the girl mentioned, and they entered the restaurant.

Danny went to order his usual when he noticed a fish fry sandwich on the menu. Fish sounded good. Really, really good. Despite his former distaste for seafood, Danny ordered the fish. Sam and Tucker looked at him with matching eyebrows. They've known him long enough to know that a month ago, Danny would never even consider eating anything with fins.

Any suspicion the two had was worn away when the trio sat at the booth and talked till long after their food was consumed. Conversation flowed from their lips as the trio enjoyed the company of their friendship.

The three of them have been practically joined at the hip since sixth grade and never had any secrets, which is why Danny currently felt like shit. The guilt that came with his new secret was sickening. Jazz told him it was a good idea to tell them about his situation, but he was kinda scared to. Who would want a part-fish freak for a best friend?

His thoughts were interrupted when a wild gesture from Tucker knocked some water onto his arm. Danny immediately grabbed a bunch of napkins. In his panicked state, he ran to the restroom to dry off. He couldn't let them see. Black scales had sprouted from his skin, and the tan on his arm turned a sickly, pale-green.

Hectically, he dabbed the napkins against his arm. Dry up. Dry up. The bathroom door swung open, followed by the form of Tucker. Danny quickly hid his arm behind his back.

"Hey, you good, dude? We were kinda worried when you left us hanging there," his friend asked. Concern was evident on Tucker's face.

"Oh yeah! I was just drying off my arm!"

"Okay. Whatever you say man. You just kinda freaked out, and we wanted to make sure you were good."

"Thanks. Yeah. I'm fine. Unexpected water gets me a little antsy because of the whole…drowning thing."

At this Tucker came closer to Danny, causing him to tuck his arm further behind his back. The geek pulled Danny into a hug.

"I know what happened to you was scary, even if you don't remember it. And if you ever want to talk, Sam and I will always be here for you. And if you don't ever want to mention it, we won't! We care about you, Danny. Don't you forget it."

Danny smiled and returned the hug.

"Thank you. I'm glad to have you guys as friends."

Tucker looked over from behind Danny's shoulder and noticed a dark spot on his friend's arm. It must've been a trick of the light, because after the pair separated, it was gone. Weird. The two buddies walked out to meet Sam and said their goodbyes. Danny waved to his friends and turned towards the direction of his house.

The cool night breeze felt good on his neck. Danny followed the light from the Fentonworks sign in the distance. The walk was calm as he rounded the corner towards his street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hit suddenly. A tremor filled his bones. Danny clenched his chest. He could feel a wave of urgency rush over him. Something happened. Something big. The ground around him started shaking. The pavement cracked open in the rumble. The throbbing in Danny's chest intensified. He had to go.

He ran to the lake as fast as his legs could carry him. He texted Jazz before throwing his phone onto the sand. Danny scrambled into the water at full speed. Once his tail fully formed, he took off towards the arch.

The water's current was violent and tossed Danny like a ragdoll. Cujo had taken shelter under his ledge. There shouldn't be riptides like this in a lake. Finally, the mer made it to the gate. Danny grabbed the side like a lifeline and waited for the whirlpool to appear.

Danny took the portal to the dome. A large crowd of mer had gathered. It appeared they were waiting for something. Danny approached the crowd and swam up next to a blue mer with long, teal hair. He heard her speak to a guy on the other side of her.

"I hope they give us some answers soon. I was in the middle of serenading these cute rich boys on a yacht before I felt the summons," she huffed. Her companion turned towards her, giving Danny a better look at him. He was kinda scary, not gonna lie. The dude was jacked. His lime green hair was formed into a mohawk. Scars littered his grey arms which complimented his intense glare.

"You better not be attracting some 'cute rich boys' or they might meet my new spear," the man's gruff voice stated. Ah, so they were dating. The buff dude's eyes turned over to Danny.

"What are you looking at, whelp?"

"Nothing!" Danny defended, "I was just wondering if anyone knew what's going on."

"You and me both, Babypop," the blue girl chimed in. Her black tail flicked in annoyance. Danny liked the colors of her tail fins. They shimmered with bits of magenta, purple, and a light blue and contrasted her scales nicely. Anyways, he was getting distracted. He turned over to watch several figures swim in front of the crowd. Dorothea stoof off to the side of the stage. This must be big.

A giant woman silenced the crowd by lifting one of her four hands. Her confident demeanor clued Danny in that she was someone important.

"Citizens of the Seven Seas and beyond," her voice boomed, "we are gathered here today to address a serious issue: the Bermuda Gate has been opened."

Panic and outrage spread through the crowd before the lady silenced them again.

"Believe us, we know, and we are trying to resolve this situation as we speak. In the meantime, nowhere is safe. The only thing protecting us now is the magic surrounding this dome. The Ancients have done our best to accommodate as many people as we can. All whirlpool travel is to be suspended after high noon tomorrow. Gather your important belongings, gather your loved ones, and come back to the dome before then. This is a scary time. Many know of the Bermuda Prophecy that was given to us millennia ago. The prophecy mentioned the opening of the Bermuda Gate, but it also mentioned something else: one of you is destined to save us."

The crowd murmured and speculated over who it could be. A brave young gentleman rose up from the crowd.

"I'll do it!" He proclaimed in confidence that could rival Jack Fenton. The important lady raised an eyebrow before replying.

"Thank you, Aragon, but that is not how it works. The chosen one will be the one who can remove this sword from this volcanic rock cluster."

Important Lady gestured over to where a giant ass rock sat with a shiny handle sticking out of it. A hoard of mer swarmed the rock and waited for their turn to lift the sword. None had succeeded.

The crowds parted and went towards their respective portals. In the end, it was just Danny staring at the rock. He didn't realize how long he had been staring at it until he looked up at the empty room. He felt drawn to it. The hilt's reflection glistened in the water. Much stronger mer had failed to release it, but what was the harm in trying?

The young boy approached the rock and tentatively reached a hand out. He gripped firmly on the hilt and pulled. Blue light erupted from the stone as he pulled the blade out of its prison. A wave of energy pulsed from the sword as he released it. He inspected his new weapon. It was perfectly made for Danny. He was the one in the prophecy. He was supposed to save these people. Welp, the world's screwed.

" When land and sea's need is great,

One will answer the call."

#danny phantom #dp #phic phight 2023 #and he answered #phic phight #fanfiction #not beta read #not beta'd

6 notes · View notes

tumbling-darkling · 2 years

Text

Alien/Ghost Support Groups

Steven had been traveling a lot, he wanted to see the world, find a new place in it for him. After saving it for so long and dealing with the repercussions of that, he found himself enjoying the peaceful towns or busy cities, and generally the people that all lived there. He had made so many new friends, friends he would hope to see again and friends he still stayed in contact with over the phone.

The best part of it all was just seeing how vastly different everything around him was. How much people could range from town to town, the little quirks in each town that only those passing through could notice, the ones that made each place special in its own way.

The next town on his map was a little town called ‘Amity Park’, which was apparently the most haunted place on the planet. All the articles he could find on the town emphasized this, he had to admit a ghost gimmick would make any town quite popular during the fall season. He doubted there were any real ghosts though, despite the town claiming to be haunted, there weren’t a lot of stories to back it up. Not a lot of tragic history or stories, it’s past was pretty normal. They just picked up the gimmick nearly two years ago and haven’t dropped it.

As Steven drove into the town, he noticed how quaint it was. It wasn’t too small of a town, housing a mall, hospital, and fairly large neighborhood. But it wasn’t a city either. He decided to take a look around town to se did he could find a hotel or something to stay in for the night, then jolted as he turned the corner. Across the street was a MASSIVE neon sign that hung off what looked to be a modified house, the sign labeled ‘FENTONWORKS’ then shaped an arrow towards the building in question. Steven didn’t even want to know all the building laws broken regarding whatever was built on the roof of the building.

Glancing out the window, he noticed a teen around his age walking past, and quickly took the opportunity to roll down his window and call out, “excuse me! What’s with the building with the neon sign?”

The teen froze, slowly looking over with the most exhausted expression Steven had ever seen, even he didn’t have bags that dark under his eyes during the worst of his endeavours. “That’s the Fenton’s, so called ‘ghost experts’,” the kid hummed sarcastically. “You’re from out of town?”

Steven nodded and offered a bright smile, “yep! Came to see what the most haunted town in North America has to offer!”

“Let me give you some advice,” the kid slowly leaned towards Stevens car. “Run.”

Steven blinked, “p-pardon?”

The kid grinned, and Steven couldn’t help but notice his sharper canines, “Best to run while you still can, Ghost’s don’t like new things.”

The kid then turned and walked away… then walked into the FentonWorks house.

… what.

Was.

That.

Steven took a moment to collect himself before he did a legal u-turn, carefully parked along the street, and walked up to the house himself. He could play this game. He had a very strong urge to befriend the scary boy, so by the gems he was going to do so!

He knocked on the door and bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for someone to answer. He did manage to hear yelling coming from inside before the loudest sigh was heard and dragging feet. Then the door swung open to reveal the boy, who looked up Steven up and down, “didn’t I tell you that this town sucks?”

Steven smiled and offered his hand, “my name is Steven! I’d love to learn more about this town and it’s ghosts and seeing that you live with the ghost experts, I’m sure you can tell me a few things!”

The kid eyed his hand, the icy gaze slowly rising up to Steven’s face. Something about it sent chills down the half gems spine.

Then the kid took his hand and shook it, which was freezing cold. “Danny. Might as well invite you inside,” he shrugged and turned around, sauntering into the house. “So why are you interested in Ghosts? Want to hunt them down and tear them apart, molecule by molecule?”

Steven jolted as he walked in, “what?! Why would anyone want to do that?!”

Danny turned around again, walking backwards with his eyes wide, “wow, you really are fresh into town, aren’t you? You probably haven’t even seen a ghost yet, have you?”

“Are they really such a common sight here? Like events and such?”

“Events. Sure,” Danny rolled his eyes as he flopped on a couch, gesturing to a seat near him. “Gonna give you a heads up before you wander in the middle of crossfire. The ghosts here are very real, and when you see one, walk in the other direction. Do not go towards it with your mouth wide open, that’s how you get buildings dropped on you.”

“… seriously?” Steven asked.

“As serious as one who lives in a town constantly under attack by dead people who love to make sure nobody gets more than 3 hours of sleep.”

“That sounds… not very great.”

“Ha! We survive,” Danny hummed, “so where shall we start, the place where ghosts come from, the ghosts themselves, or that Phantom weirdo?”

Stevens mind was reeling, “the- wha- Phantom weirdo?”

“Oh don’t get me started, dude shows up one day and suddenly ghosts are everywhere. He’s so annoying too always breaking his back saving stupid tourists. Never gets thanked, cares way too much for a town that barely gives him the time of day, and then gets blamed for the problems he fixes! What a menace.”

Everything Danny said contradicted itself.

“I am… extremely confused.”

“Welcome to Amity Park!” Danny laughed.

He looked ready to say something else what a small gasp escaped him and he muttered something that sounded like ‘of course they have the worse timing.’

Right before Steven could ask, something flew from the floor, something glowing and magic and supernaturally coloured.

“BEWARE FOR I-!”

Steven acted before he could think, jumping to his feet and throwing up a bubble around him and Danny and pushing the glowing blue man across the room. Danny sputtered behind, “wha- WHAT THE FUCK-?”

The glowing man wasn’t injured, but he glared at Stevens bubble, “HOW DARE YOU USE A CIRCULAR OBJECT TO DEFY ME, THE BOX GHOST! MASTER OF ALL THINGS CUBULAR! I WILL SHOW YOU MY BOXED WRATH!” The glowing man lifted his arms and every box shaped thing in the room flew at Stevens bubble! But harmlessly bounced off it. “IMPOSSIBLE!”

“Hey, maybe we can talk about this?” Steven asked.

“I CANNOT TALK TO ONE WHO FAVOURS THE CIRCLE OVER THE SUPERIOR SQUARE!”

“Boxy,” Danny spoke behind Steven, causing him to glance over his shoulder in surprise, “go back the ghost zone.” He was rubbing his eyes, looking like he had gone years without sleep.

“But… my boxtacular takeover-,” the ghost stuttered, which Danny looked up with a glare, eyes flashing a toxic green that cause Steven to jump and drop his bubble in surprise.

“Ghost Zone. Now.”

The self proclaimed Box Ghost disappeared back into the floorboards in a blink of an eye. Steven was blinking at Danny, and Danny was staring back at Steven.

“Are you a Gem?”

“Are you a Ghost?”

“I’m sorry, What?”

————————————

The two sat on the roof of Danny’s house.

“You’re telling me… you’re half alien?”

“How is that crazier than being half dead?”

“You’re half alien! From like- from space! Half your family is from space! In the stars and on other planets and shit! That’s amazing!” Danny seemed to have stars in his eyes, his personality completely changing at the mention of Stevens alien heritage.

“Well, it’s not as amazing when you find out that they were conquerors that destroy life on various other planets before you managed, at the age of 14, to convince them that maybe killing is bad. Then is left with trauma from constantly being in life threatening danger when only 14, that when everything is finally safe and peaceful you have survival reactions to small things like not being able to help your friends repot a plant over the weekend.”

“… dude… you should talk to my sister, she could totally help you through that.”

Steven laughed a little, “oh, I already have a therapist! They’ve really been helping me work through these things.”

“Must be nice talking to someone about daily life or death battles that isn’t trying to psychoanalyze you or talk about dissecting your alter ego.”

Steven stared at Danny for a moment, “you… don’t have a therapist?”

Danny laughed, “of course not! I can’t even tell my parents I’m part ghost in fear that they will vivisect me! I can’t walk into a therapists office and be like: I died when I was 14 but not all the way and my guilt over opening the portal and letting the ghosts in town has me put my own health on hold in favour of protecting a town from my stupid mistakes!” Danny said it all too casually, but Steven could see the glisten of watery eyes, the hunched shoulders, avoiding eye contact as the other teen stared off over the city. “I thought about it before though,” He said quietly, “but after Spectra… they all will just think I’m some freak. Run away, get mad, or just pretend to care. I just got to keep moving forward. I’ll should be fine.”

Steven was already typing the numbers into his phone.

Danny heard the tapping and looked over, “what… what are you doing?”

“I’m booking you an appointment with my therapist.”

“WHAT NO YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Danny lunged for Stevens phone but he managed to hold it out of reach.

“They deal with super-powered teens saving the world at young ages and dealing with trauma later in life! It’s all confidential, nothing gets out! And it helps! It’s a support system! Ben can vouch for me!”

“Who the heck is Ben?!”

“A kid who got alien powers at the age of 10!”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE GET ALIEN POWERS AND ALL I GET IS HALF DEATH?!”

181 notes · View notes

ecto-american · 5 years

Text

I was doing some research for a fanfiction, and remembered this line from Reality Trip, which got my criminal justice self all excited because of the implications. So have some analysis from a rambling autistic with a criminal justice degree.

“Daniel Fenton, in accordance with the Federal Anti-Ecto Control Act, Article 1, Section 1, Sub-section A, you're under arrest.”

Y'all, this is kinda wack? It means, on some level, there has been a federal judgment within the world of Danny Phantom that not only acknowledges that ghosts exist, but has an entire fucking act describing specifically the course of action in a sense. Lots of acts will kind of be this vague overarching thing with various random acts thrown into it, but the name along with the article one, section one subsection a dealio implies that this entire act focuses on ghosts. I say act and not law btw, because those terms are not necessarily synonyms.

Not only does this confirm that there are acts (at least one anyway) in Danny Phantom that specifically talk about ghosts, but kind of really and truly cements that the Guys in White are actually a federal government agency, rather than them simply acting as one but really being a private company of sorts or being some local state government program.

And with laws about ghosts, it means that legally, the government had to define what exactly a ghost is as well as their rights and lack of rights, and that they legally acknowledge, as a nation, that ghosts exists. While, of course, we don’t really ever get to see this act, and as far as I know, it’s literally Never talked about again, this scene means that this act applies to Danny. For a quick refresher, this happens after Danny is exposed, and so this act still applies to Danny despite him being outted as a half ghost. A scary sidenote is before this scene and line of dialogue, the agents told Danny that he was coming in for questioning and experiments.

So what might it possibly say? If there are any acts that we can potentially base what this act possibly would say, I would probably guess it’d be similar to the acts used for minorities within the United States. And I say these kinds of acts because they’re specifically acts that discriminate towards a group, and that have used various reasons to justify how they are not human, citizens or have any legal rights. If the agents’ lines were correct, these acts probably gave them justification for doing inhumanly cruel things to Danny.

Of course, Danny could be arrest for something totally different and not for some anti-ghost reasons. At this point in time, he’s still kind of half-loved, half-hated publicly as people are shown to still believe that he stole during the events of Control Freaks and the mayor incident of Public Enemies, but if he was under arrest for any of those crimes, the agents would have said that. And I refuse to believe this is an oversight of the writers, because they would have found any nitpicky thing and made it a funny situation where the agents went on and on and on about this endless list of crimes that the ghost boy has committed until Danny roundhouse kicked somebody. And no, it’s likely not because the Guys in White are only interested in Ghost Crimes. As federal officials, which they are confirmed to be, they would have arrested him for everything and have to basically fistfight the other government agencies investigating his Non Ghost Crimes.

So what exactly is he under arrest for? No clue obviously, and it’s hard to really even guess. Article 1, Section 1, Sub-section A for most acts are basically describing what the act’s going to be before it moves on to detail that. I think this is an oversight of the DP writers, lord knows we get enough of them, but it could also potentially highlight the Dumb factor of the Guys in White that we would see them sometimes exhibit, where instead of properly referencing the piece of legislation he’s under arrest for, they just blurt out the first section of that law.

And who wrote this act? It could be anybody, of course. Anybody within politics. It also begs the question as to exactly when this act was written and when it was put into effect. I’d wager it heavily depends on when the Guys in White came into effect, as they are clearly acting under these laws. Which begs the question: how many pieces of anti-ghost legislation are there? Who’s writing them? There’s potential that there are literally lawyers who are literally experts in ghost law. Keep in mind that in the beginning of the series, there was a lot of skepticism that ghosts even exist.

This honestly leads me to propose a new headcanon: The Guys in White are a very new government organization that spawned after the events of Public Enemies. To preface this and clarify, in order, the Guys in White appear in only five episodes: Million Dollar Ghost, Double Cross My Heart, Reality Trip, Eye for an Eye, and Livin’ Large.

Evidence to support this theory:

They only show up four episodes later in their first appearance in Million Dollar Ghost. Public Enemies seems to also be the first episode in the series that shows a massive onslaught of ghost attacks. I would guess that this is the ghostly event that probably spawned the act in question, which may have called for the organization of the Guys in White. Prior to this, ghosts were basically shown that they’re unconfirmed to exist on a public level. Even Jack, our lovable and excitable ghost hunter who’s been doing this since his college years admits in Mystery Meat that he’s never seen a ghost until that point. Jazz mentions that Harriet Chin in Bitter Reunions lost her job for writing an article about ghosts because she was laughed for writing about something that was more for “the national enquirer”, a conspiracy theory newspaper that nobody really takes seriously.

Why are they there during the events of Million Dollar Ghost anyway? If they’re a new organization, they may need that money or are cashing in on the publicity of the event to spread their name, or they’re just starting out and have no real clue where else to go. Only two of them even showed up anyway. The only other groups there are very small ghost hunting groups: literally two young adults on scooters, another set of young adults with a tiger fueled by anxiety and a van, and FentonWorks. And while they, out of all of them, clearly have the most advanced technology, they’re about on the same skill level as the other ghost hunters (getting captured and tricked and such just as easily). Danny even was just as “haha” about them as he was the other hunters who had showed up.

Their technology in Million Dollar ghost is nothing in comparison to the literal jetpacks and planes and four wheelers and armor they get several episodes later. Their funding increased when they proved ghosts exist and more ghostly events happened, and they likely proved their competence in some way. Especially when we see that they have been catching other ghosts (like Skulker in Double Cross My Heart and Lydia in Reality Trip) and gathering important information on ghostly artifacts (Reality Trip).

It would explain why they don’t really show up that often in the series, especially during major ghost events where they really should be there, such as the ghost king invasion of Reign Storm. They may have not secured the funding or manpower to really do anything just yet. Note that Reign Storm happened in between Million Dollar Ghost and Double Cross My Heart, which is almost a 20 episode gap. Their skills, knowledge, ability, technology and apparent funding jumped massively between these episodes, and it kind of stays about the same consistency for the rest of the show.

They really only seem to have one department, and they have really low employee numbers for a government agency. There’s no talk or implications or having multiple departments or anything, such as research or technology. Even during the SWAT invasion during Reality Trip, there’s only like twenty or so agents there. In Livin’ Large, there’s only about seven there, and two are the Agent K and O that we know. They play a lot of roles, from researching, questioning, gathering information, tracking down criminals, getting information from the Fenton’s lab, technology things in FentonWorks, etc. Of course, this is a staple for many law enforcement jobs where you have many tasks, but they seem to be playing the role of detective, computer analysis, and police officer at minimum given the wide variety of things we see them do. As somebody who’s worked in three situations where the company/program was very new, it’s incredibly common for a new company that’s still finding it’s groundings to have a very blurred job line. Or they’re heavily underfunded, but look at the goddamn jetpacks they get, look me in the eye and tell me they’re underfunded.

The lack of basic ghost information. In Livin’ Large, they want to destroy the Ghost Zone. It’s apparently very obvious that you Can’t Do That, but the Guys in White seem oblivious. While you can argue that they’re just fucking dumb, it may be more reasonable to assume that they simply just don’t know.

There’s no dialogue (that I can find) prior to Million Dollar Ghost to suggest they exist. There’s also no dialogue from Vlad, who would have known and been wary of such an organization had it been around for years, to suggest that they’ve been around a while. Jack, who also is open about how much he admires them, would have likely said something to. But I am willing to chalk this entire part up to simply poor writing.

“But Danny knew who the Guys in White were when they showed up in Million Dollar Ghost!” Yeah. He also knew who the other people were, and I heavily doubt that they’d be as big of a deal or name as the Official government branch. It’s very likely that they all introduced themselves when they showed up.

#show analysis #nick talks #danny phantom #guys in white

1K notes · View notes

danphanwritingprompts · 5 years

Text

Danny has been given the go ahead by his parents to turn FentonWorks into a haunted house. Ghost themed even!

But this time, Danny’s going to do his research, and everything in the house will be controlled by him overshadowing it.

Time to prove to those other ghosts he can be scary! If he can, that is.

#prompts:submitted #prompts #submissions #submission #browa123 #unfilled:danny fenton

60 notes · View notes

aggressivelyclueless · 5 years

Text

The Lonely Ghost

prompted by @inky-interest "Full ghost Danny AU - his entire family dies in the Portal accident but he is the only one who sticks around FentonWorks to haunt the house. Eventually Sam & Tucker come in, following the rumors of a ghost haunting said house." Words: 6050 Warning: death, very feelsy

"Sam, do you really think this is a good idea?" "Tucker," she sighed, "I told you all about this, remember? One year ago exactly - and we've got a full moon going for us. Our chances are as good as they're going to get." Tucker slumped a little. "Yeah, but it sounded a lot cooler in theory. I'm getting the creeps already just looking at the place." He turned and gave the structure before them a long stare. It had been a house once; the front door lay on the steps, having been blasted off its hinges, and scars from the fire clawed outward from the doorframe and the empty windows. An old corroded sign had been propped up against the bricks by the steps. It had lit up before the tragedy, but after a year of neglect it just read F nt n ork. Sam gave the charred second-story window a glance. "Tucker. That's the point. You think I'd miss the chance to see a real ghost actually manifest? C'mon." Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him up the steps into the ruined house. Most of the floorboards had broken toward the back of the room, and even the first few groaned unhappily as the trespassers made their way inside. A gutted staircase went upwards to the left, the hand railing long gone but one stumpy post of the banister standing in stubborn refusal to quit. The collapsed frame of the living-room sofa sat to the right, covered in ash and dust. The end-table hadn't fared so badly; Sam stepped carefully over to it, minding the weakened floorboards, and coaxed the drawer open with one hand. The other reached out behind her. "Tucker - flashlight?" Tucker pulled one out of his backpack, handing it to Sam and peering over one shoulder. "Is it important?" Sam turned briefly back to him with a shrug. "Does it matter?" She turned the beam down into the opened drawer, rifling through its contents. An old deck of playing cards, one corner of which had burned away to ash; a little silver thing that looked like it might have, at one point, been lipstick; part of an old and disused rat's nest; a fragment of an old Casper High report card. Sam held the little silver thing up and twisted the cap open. "Lime green lipstick? Score." "Sam," said Tucker, "You think that's really sanitary?" "Whether I wear it or not - we're finding cool junk in here already. Wonder if any of this stuff is haunted? C'mon. I'm gonna check upstairs." Tucker hesitated. Why did I agree to go along with this? He didn't like the dark, and he didn't like ghosts; he'd really rather be at home, or at the movies, or anyplace except here. He told himself to remind Sam that she owed him one for this. Sam turned the beam of her flashlight to the staircase. It would be tricky - especially in combat boots - but she thought she could make it up without a problem. She tiptoed carefully up the first few jutting steps, pausing to throw a glance back over her shoulder and make sure Tucker would follow her. He looked like he didn't want to, but stayed behind her anyway. She knew she'd have to make this up to him later; this had been her idea in the first place, after all, and she had a feeling that Tucker might bail later on anyway if things started to get intense. She'd stuffed her backpack with the essentials anyway - ouija board, EVP recorder, infrared camera borrowed courtesy of Tucker's dad - in the hopes that they might have some decent luck. They hadn't lately, and she'd started to wonder if they'd have any at all. She'd agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to give the ghosthunting a break if they didn't find anything tonight. She still had her hopes up, though. The upstairs landing was unsteady at best. She held out one hand to keep Tucker back, crept slowly across until it felt more solid, and then gave him a nod. The beam from her flashlight had landed on the door at the near end of the hall, and she gave Tucker a little grin. "I brought that ouija board. Wanna give it a go? See if we get anything tonight?" Tucker's heart sank, but he nodded anyway. "Sure, Sam." Sam led him slowly into one of the bedrooms. Despite the layer of smoke and ash that had settled over every surface in the room, it was remarkably intact. The queen bed sat in one corner, and the bedside table and dresser shared the space under the window. The door of the closet hung ajar, and just for a second she swore she saw something move inside. Her eyes widened, and she jabbed Tucker with her elbow. "Hey - d'you see that?" "No," he whispered with a shake of his head. Sam crept up to the closet anyway, flashlight trained on the thin line left by the open door. She slowly nudged it open, breath held, and peered inside. She crossed her fingers - please be a ghost please be a ghost please be a ghost - but the closet was vacant. Old clothes lined the sides, and a small pile of shoes had been left in the back corner, but there were no ghosts. Sam let all her breath out in disappointment. "I don't think we should be here," said Tucker. Sam turned to see that he'd taken a seat on the edge of the bed, and he had both hands clamped over each other in his lap. "This place really gives me the creeps. I mean - people died here, Sam. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want us poking around - " Sam scoffed. "Tucker, listen. Ghosts can't actually hurt people. Besides, we haven't even seen any yet. I know I keep dragging you out on all these ghost hunts, but I swear I'll make it up to you - you know that, right? I always do." "Yeah," said Tucker, "That's kinda the only reason I'm still even here. Just saying." Sam gave him a little smile. "Thanks." Tucker gave her a little smile back. She turned back to the abandoned bedroom, the beam from her flashlight sweeping across walls and furniture alike. A forgotten jewelry display stood on one side of the dresser, and she kept the flashlight on it as she went to investigate; a modest handful of bracelets, a few pendants, and three pairs of earrings sat dully under their cover of ash and dust, and Sam pulled one of the pendants up and examined it. It was a little petunia, studded in the center by a single pink gemstone, and Sam scrubbed at it with the corner of her top to restore any luster that it might once have had. "Tucker - check this out. How cool is that?" Tucker hesitated. "I don't know, Sam - you think the ghosts'll be happy when you go and root through their stuff?" "It's not like they'll ever use it again," Sam shrugged halfheartedly, but set the pendant back anyway. "I'm just admiring it. That's all." Something from the next room over clunked suddenly, making both of them jump. Sam's heart skipped a beat, and the flashlight turned immediately to the wall separating the two rooms. After a moment of silence, she turned back to Tucker; her voice was just the barest whisper. "C'mon." Tucker hated to go and investigate strange noises in abandoned burned-up houses, but he hated even more the thought of standing by himself in an abandoned burned-up house, and he followed Sam back into the hall. The longer they stayed, the worse he felt. Part of him still wanted to bail, but he had a feeling that Sam would take him out for a movie tomorrow - two, if things got really scary - so he stuck with her. The second bedroom was in much worse shape. The bed in the corner was still recognizable, but most of the furniture had been scarred by the fire. The carpet had melted, solidifying afterwards in hard uneven clumps, and the feet of the dresser and bookshelf had sunk an inch into the fibers and been eaten up. About two-thirds of an old stuffed bear sat on the window - it was missing a leg and part of its body, and Sam picked it up and turned it over once in her hands. "I think her name was Jasmine," said Sam with a frown, "Maybe it was Jessamine." "Jasmine," said Tucker vaguely, having occupied himself with any of the titles on the bookshelf that were still readable. Most of them weren't. His foot absently found one on the floor in front of the shelf, and he picked it up. "I think this is what fell." He handed it to her. Sam gave the book a brief inspection. Most of the pages were charred beyond recognition, but part of the front was still readable. Psyc- A Gui- minds of-. The rest of the title had been destroyed. She frowned. "I vaguely remember her from school. Wasn't she a prep?" Tucker shrugged; he and Jasmine had never met. Sam tossed the destroyed book aside, peering briefly through the most-intact portions of the room. The closet was almost completely incinerated; the drywall had crumbled, taking the shelving down with it. All that remained was a pile of ashen debris on the floor, and a couple of drywall screws that jutted out from the support beams as if they might still serve any coherent purpose. Sam stepped gingerly into the space, shining the flashlight for a moment up at the ruined ceiling, but decided against it when the floorboards protested a little too loudly for her comfort. She turned back to Tucker. "You wanna try the last room on the end?" Tucker swallowed. "Not really," he said, following her regardless. Sam tiptoed back out into the hall. The weak spot on the floor was at the top of the staircase, and she skirted around the edge of it as best she could to access the last room at the end. She waved Tucker over when she was done, and turned her attention to the blackened door before them. She meant to push it open, but the frame gave out at the slightest touch; the door teetered for a second and then fell flat, sending up a cloud of ashes and dust and making them both cough. When the dust settled, Sam gasped. The room at the end of the hall had suffered horribly; two ends of the bedframe had collapsed, piling on each other in the middle, and the support beams holding the drywall up had been completely destroyed. The drywall itself had fallen, although it had been burned only partially; most of the bare wooden floorboards had given out, and the remnants of the bedside table and the desk had collapsed downwards. Apart from the bedframe, and the fallen drywall, there was surprisingly little debris. Most of it, Sam guessed, had been incinerated completely. She swept her flashlight across the room, almost breathless. The beam flickered for a moment in the center, and just for a fraction of a second she spotted it: a translucent shadow, standing very clearly in the center of the space. She brought the light back around to fixate on it, but the shadow had vanished. Her breath hitched, and for a long moment she was silent. "Tucker," she mouthed finally, "Did you see that?" Tucker had, most definitely, seen it. He found himself shaking his head anyway, hoping that Sam would be dissuaded and opt to call it a night, but most of him knew better. Sam turned the flashlight about the room again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the anomaly, but found nothing. "That's it," she decided, shoving the flashlight into Tucker's hands and sliding the backpack off her shoulders. "Infra time." "Sam," Tucker protested quietly, "Do we have to - ?" "Yes," Sam hissed through her teeth, "We do. That's why we came out here in the first place, remember?" She pulled the infrared camera out of her backpack, waiting for a moment as it powered up, and then kept her eyes on the screen as she turned slowly about the room. She could see Tucker's outline clearly - he lit up a pleasant red-orange - and could easily make out the few details to the room that remained. Most of it was an easier green-teal, and when the wind swept through the empty windows she could see it swirl in a cooler blue. She turned to where she'd seen the shadow, hoping it was still there. It didn't appear to be, but she could clearly see where it had been standing; two deep purple footprints could be seen on the bare floorboards, their edges already blurring back toward the blue-teal of the surrounding space. "Tucker, take a look at this." Tucker gingerly took the camera from her. He was always extra careful with things that he'd borrowed, especially if they were electronics of any sort, and turned it back to the fading footprints in the center of the room. His gut wrenched. "Sam, I really don't think we should be here - " "What, and miss this? Tucker, we know there's a ghost here now. We're not shooting blind anymore. I bet we could even communicate with it - maybe there's more than one. Maybe all four of them are here - and how are we gonna find out about it if we don't ask?" Tucker was silent. Figures Sam would be really excited about this. He supposed he'd be excited too, if only they'd come in the daylight. Sam carefully plopped down on the floor, and unzipped the top of her backpack again. "You wanna try this ouija thing? I heard about it from Felicity from third-period. You met her once, right?" Tucker hadn't, but nodded anyway. Sam pulled the board out of her backpack and unfolded it so that it lay flat. "She said it works better the more people you have, but seeing as how it's just us two - I'm not sure if we're going to get anything. Worth a shot, though, right? We can always try for an EVP or two later." The knot of dread in Tucker's gut hardened, but he nodded anyway. Sam unzipped the smaller compartment of the backpack, pulling out the little wooden puck that Felicity-from-third-period had lent her along with the board. She turned it over in her hands a few times, noticing the little hole bored through the center, and then placed it down on the board. She gave Tucker an expectant look; he descended onto the floor opposite her. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly set his first two fingers on the side of the puck. "Sam, I really don't have a good feeling about this." "I know," said Sam, "Me neither. Tell you what, though - stick with me until the end and I'll take you tomorrow night for a double feature." Tucker weighed the offer in his mind briefly, but then nodded. "Yeah." Sam took a deep breath, turning her attention back to the puck under her fingers. "You think it'll answer?" She had meant it as a somewhat rhetorical question to Tucker, but almost immediately the puck slid anyway: YES. Sam's eyes widened. "Tucker - " "Real funny, Sam," said Tucker, shifting uncomfortably in place. "That wasn't me," she whispered, holding his stare. She glanced for just a second back down at the board, and gave him an excited smile. "I knew we'd be able to communicate." Tucker pulled his hand away and wrapped both his arms around his knees. "I really don't like this - " "Tucker, come on," Sam pressed, "It won't work if we're not both - " The puck slid out from under her fingers, skittering off the board and coming to a halt at the edge of one of the charred floorboards. After a pause, it turned slowly to point at her. Sam was silent, and she gave Tucker a wide-eyed look. After a moment, she slowly reached over to retrieve the puck, careful not to disturb the uneven floorboards more than she had to. She hated to reach out that far - she could feel them tipping slightly under her weight - and she brushed against the puck with her fingers, grabbed it, and pulled it back to the sturdier part where she and Tucker were sitting. She held it for a moment, running one thumb along its edge, and then set it back on the board. Maybe Felicity-from-third-period was wrong, the thought with a little frown. Maybe we don't need to be touching it at all. "I'm gonna try something." "Don't," said Tucker, but made no move to stop her. Sam stared down at the puck, a determined frown on her face, and then asked quietly, "Are you the only spirit here with us tonight?" There was a long silence as nothing happened. Sam was almost about to reach out and touch it again, but the puck slid slowly over: YES. Sam could hardly believe it. After all the places around town they'd swept with Tucker's dad's infra, and all the empty EVP sessions even when they were certain they'd find results, the husk of FentonWorks had been there the whole time. She turned to Tucker. "You wanna ask it anything?" Tucker shook his head. "I wanna go home." Sam turned back down to the board before her. The puck still rested over YES as if it hadn't moved at all. She kept her voice a whisper, but could hardly contain her excitement. "Do you mean us harm?" Again, the puck was still for a moment, but this time it slid faster: I DON'T KNOW. Sam frowned. "You don't know?" She thought to herself for a moment, and almost missed the first movement of the puck as it crawled across the board again. The letters read clearly: THIEF. As if to make a point, it rested on F for a moment before rotating to indicate Sam's backpack. Sam's eyes followed its direction, and she frowned. Remembering the lipstick, she dug it out of the backpack and held it up. Sure enough, the pointing end of the puck followed it like the needle of a compass, and only sat still when she set it down over by the charred doorframe. "Told you you should have left it alone," said Tucker quietly. Sam shot him a look. “Shut up.” She repositioned herself, turned back to the board, and asked: "What's your name, spirit?" The puck was still. Sam stared down expectantly, but even after a minute it hadn't moved. She and Tucker exchanged glances; after a tense silence, she whispered, "You think it's gone?" "No way," Tucker shook his head, "You feel how cold it got all of a sudden?" Sam paused. The infrared camera had been left at Tucker's side, and she grabbed it again. It wasn't just him; the green-teal of the room had shifted to a light blue to indicate the drop in temperature. She turned it about the room once, hoping to locate the mysterious spirit, and found only a fading wisp of blue-purple over the floorboards. She thought for a moment before scooting carefully to the edge of the boards and peering downwards. The camera, unfortunately, didn't pick up much through the darkness below. "You think it lives down there?" Tucker had no comment. Sam glanced over her shoulder at him. "You wanna go down and find out?" She heard the puck snap loudly against the board, and she and Tucker both jumped. She turned, scrambling back from the edge of the dark hole, and set the camera down on the floor by her backpack. She refused to say anything about it, but her mouth went dry just then, and all of a sudden she was aware just how cold it had gotten. She glanced down; the puck rested firmly on the board: NO. Tucker had frozen up. He'd pulled his hat down over his ears, and was trying to convince himself that there wasn't a ghost, or at least that it wasn't out to get them. It wasn't working. He gave up trying to block everything out and instead looked helplessly over at Sam. "Can we please go home?" Sam hesitated. Her eyes remained affixed to the puck on the board before her. Part of her wanted to listen to Tucker and call it a night; no, she told herself, we came out here to see ghosts, and we're finally seeing them. It was just because she'd never actually talked to one before - that's why she was jumpy. That must be it. She gave herself a little nod, as if the matter was settled, and turned back to the board. The puck remained still - what had she said? She'd asked Tucker if he'd wanted to take a look down the hole and see what they'd find. She guessed they'd end up in the kitchen downstairs - she'd seen it when they'd come in, although they hadn't investigated it yet - but the spirit, apparently, was against the notion. Well, she reasoned, they didn't really belong here. If anyone did, it was the ghost. She asked quietly, "Why are you with us, spirit?" The puck slid partway across the board, paused for a moment, and then backtracked: I DON'T KNOW. Tucker stiffened. "Sam," he whispered, as if somehow the entity wouldn't overhear him if he was quiet enough, "You think it even knows it's dead - ?" The puck on the board was moving again. YES. A spike of fear pierced him. Dread had hung over him since he and Sam had stepped foot in the remains of the house, and had grown into a knot in his gut when she'd pulled the ouija board out; seeing the spirit respond directly to him was almost too much. He turned to Sam again, his voice high. "What does it want - tell it to go away - " Sam gave him a disapproving look. "Tucker," she said slowly, voicing her thought process as it was happening, "It knows it's a ghost. It's self-aware - hey, wait a second." She leaned over the board a little. "What if it really doesn't know why it's here? What if it needs our help to move on?" "Move on?" Tucker echoed, "Sam, this is serious - !" "I am serious!" Sam snapped, crossing her arms, "Go and sit in the hall, then. I'm gonna keep talking to it." "Split up? Are you out of your mind? That's what gets us both killed!" "Stop it," Sam hissed through her teeth, trying her best to sound demanding in the hopes that it would mask her uncertainty. Despite what she kept telling herself, part of her did believe Tucker; spirits were dangerous, and the only thing worse than provoking one and making it angry was finding out that it had followed her home an made itself comfortable. Although it took some effort, she managed to keep her breaths steady. This was your idea, you know. You said it would be fun. She was determined to see it through. That, and Tucker wouldn't let her hear the end of it if she changed her mind now. She settled back on her haunches again, keeping Tucker's eyes. "Are you bailing or not?" Tucker hesitated. Most of him really wanted to, but he shook his head. "Not." "That's what I thought," she whispered. Relief swept over her; she had fully expected him to leave her by herself, and she wondered briefly whether she would have stayed if he had. Despite the fact that Tucker was scared of a great many things, it was still better to have him around. Her attention turned back to the board. Her flashlight, plopped on top of her backpack, had kept it lit so that they could see. "What d'you think we should ask it?" Tucker fidgeted. "I don't know, man." "Thanks. Love your input." Tucker thought for a moment. "Ask it what it wants. Maybe we'll get lucky and it won't say it's gonna murder us for coming into its house." "You know it can hear you say that, right?" said Sam, "Why don't you ask it that yourself?" Tucker didn't. Sam scoffed, but looked back down at the board anyway. "Spirit," she paused, knowing there was a more proper way she was supposed to ask things (according to Felicity-from-third-period, anyhow), "Is there something keeping you tethered here - something you're still looking for?" There was a long silence before the faint scraping of the puck across the board. It got as far as ALO- before it skittered off the board completely. Sam caught it before it could disappear through the gaps in the floorboards or down into the ruined kitchen, and set it back on the board. After a moment, it tried again: LONELY. "Tucker," Sam whispered, wide eyes fixed on the puck, "I wonder if it's the only one still around?" "You mean only one ghost instead of a whole family of them? Yeah, that makes me feel so much better." The puck was still moving: FOLLOW. Sam opened her mouth to question what it meant, but the puck came suddenly upwards, hanging for a moment in the air. It set itself down in the palm of her hand at the same instant that she was wracked by an uncontrollable shiver; the sensation passed, but the puck in her hand was like ice. It turned slowly to point down the hall. "Tucker," she breathed, "Did you see that?" He nodded. "That's not good, man." Sam got slowly up to her feet, keeping her movements slow and even. Her hands had finally quit trembling; her fingers had gone mostly numb, but it hardly registered. She followed the direction she was given, and peered out into the hall. "Sam - hey, wait!" Tucker scrambled after her, shoving the infra back into her backpack and tucking the board under one arm. He paused at the top of the stairs; she was already partway down, careful not to touch anything that might give way under her. He propped the flashlight briefly in the corner of his neck so that he had his hands free to sling the backpack over one shoulder, and went down after her. He caught up to her at the landing, the flashlight in his hand surprisingly steady. Sam turned to him, and he swore he caught a glint of green in her eye. "Gimme that," she took the flashlight from him, and turned it about the room. The wall separating the living-room from the kitchen was in a sorry state. The shapes of flames that had overtaken it were still visible, outlined in charcoal-black, and part of it had crumbled completely. Her footsteps were careful, but under the empty foorframe on the far side was where the floor gave out completely. This did not stop her from coming all the way up to the edge and peering down into the hole. She glanced down at the puck, which was still in her hand; it pointed ahead. The flashlight illuminated, a little at a time, the space below. There was - at least, there had been at one point - a basement down there. It was littered with charred furniture and debris; burned beams and plaster had collapsed from the level above, and anything that might otherwise have survived the fire was crushed. The remains of two metal work-tables jutted out from under the debris in the corner of the room. The metal walls had bowed outwards, and the near end where there had once been stairs was now a mangled wreck. "Tucker, she whispered, "I think this is where it started." Tucker peered over her shoulder. "You're not seriously gonna go down there. Please tell me you're not - " Sam turned to him. "Why not? There's no way we're not getting better results down there - " "Because, Sam!" Tucker exclaimed, "Hello! Scary basement in a house you already know is haunted? Don't you think that's got bad idea written all over it? That's where you go to die!" "It can't be that - " "Don't say it! Don't! Even! Say it! That's malarkey and you know it!" Tucker grabbed her wrist, taking a step back toward the front door. "Come on, Sam, please let's just go home, I promise we'll be alive for so much longer - " "Tucker, quit it!" Sam snapped. She yanked herself free of him, taking one step back in an effort to counterbalance herself. The floorboard splintered underneath her; she toppled back, landing with a hard thud on the cold floor of the basement and momentarily losing her focus. She stood, shaking the dizziness out of her head, and glanced around for the flashlight. It had come to rest on a fallen pile of burned wood and gone out, and she gave it a few smacks with the heel of her hand in the hopes it would light up again. It didn't. "Sam?" came Tucker's voice from above. She looked up; she could make out his outline against the opening of the stairs, but the stairs themselves were gone. "Sam, are you okay?" "Yeah," she called back, "I'm good." "I told you we should have gone home." Sam sighed. "Look, I'm gonna see if I can find a big box or something I can stand on to get back up. Just hold still for a sec, would you?" She thought she heard him grumble something along the lines of "I bet you'll stay down there as long as you want" but ignored it. She turned to the wreck of the basement with a shiver - it was much colder down here than it had been upstairs - but she was unable to make out many details in the dark. The only thing that she could see for sure was some big shadowy thing on the far end of the room - she guessed it was mounted to the wall, and she didn't give it another thought until the little red light at the top blinked to life. She paused, her heart beginning to race. What was that? There couldn't possibly still be power here, could there? The little red light indicated otherwise. She watched, silent, as the thing on the wall groaned. Two massive metal plates began to part before her, screeching from a year of neglect, and an unearthly mist crawled from behind them. It settled in pools between piles of rubble, and a swirl of unfathomable energy cast a ghastly green light across the space. Sam's breath caught in her chest. She knew she was trembling, and not just from the sudden cold - despite herself, she couldn't take her eyes away from the crooked circle of light. In the near-complete darkness, it was almost blinding, and she brought one hand up over her eyes to shield herself. "Sam? What's going on down there?" came Tucker's voice, but it seemed distant. A second later, he came down after her; she hardly noticed. "Sam - ?" Sam carefully crept closer. She traced the outline of the portal with her gaze; she could feel the energy that wafted from it, and her skin broke out in goosebumps. She could see that the metal frame of the thing was completely intact, almost as if there hadn't been a fire at all, and another piece clicked into place in her mind. "Tucker," she whispered, only daring to glance over at him for an instant, "This is it. This is what caused it." Tucker couldn't seem to take his eyes off the thing either, but remained silent. The off-lime glow began to dim slowly, and Sam and Tucker both took a step back. Wisps of concentrated energy swirled together in the center, taking shape; it was the shadow that Sam had caught in the beam of her flashlight earlier, floating almost in the center of the room. Its strength was fuller here, and it was able to manifest more clearly: its hands and feet faded from blackened shadow to foggy white wisps, and its eyes began to glow a softer green. It kept its head low, as if afraid to look at them directly. Sam was the first to take a step forward. Her heart was pounding but her mind had all but ground to a halt - an actual for-real ghost! - and she had gone almost completely numb. She kept her eyes on the apparition, certain that it would vanish if she looked away for even an instant, and one hand slowly came out to see if she could touch it. The spirit flinched, floating back from her for a moment, but then paused. It regarded her, unblinking, and one of its hands hesitantly came out to meet hers. It spoke not aloud but as an echo in her mind: (lonely) She brushed its fingertips with hers. Only then did she begin to process again, and she blinked a few times in an effort to keep her thoughts from scattering in all directions at once. "I..." What could she even have said? What did she really want to tell it? There weren't any answers for that, and she let herself go quiet again. The spirit floated lower, holding its shape but declining to solidify into a solid mass. Its touch was like ice, but it held its fingers against hers. It finally met her gaze. (scared?) Sam realized slowly that its question was directed at her. Her mouth had run dry, and so she just nodded slowly. (Me too) "Sam," Tucker whispered, "We really shouldn't be here - " (Don't go) Sam turned slowly. "Don't you get it," she said hoarsely, almost unable to speak at all. She turned back to the ghost so that Tucker wouldn't see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "He's been stuck down here this whole time. He's the only one stuck down here. I can't even imagine..." The spirit reached out a little further, taking Sam's hand. Its touch was careful, as if it was afraid it might hurt her, and it drifted slowly downwards to be level with her. Sam swiped at the tears with the back of her other hand. "You've been by yourself down here since you died, haven't you?" (Yes) Something in her stomach twinged. She couldn't bear to think of it - being caught in some disaster, losing everything and everyone, and being forced to stay behind and wander the little that's left - it made her sick. "I'm so sorry..." The spirit swayed a little in place. (Please stay) Sam found herself nodding before she had even thought about it. "Of course we'll stay - " (we? Tucker asked from behind her) " - you don't have anyone to talk to anymore - you poor ghost, you must be heartbroken - " (Yeah, kinda) Tucker shifted in place. Part of him still wanted to leave this whole house behind, but he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He admitted, somewhat reluctantly to himself, that he'd probably be miserable too if anything like that had happened to him. Maybe he wasn't going to turn his back on the spirit, but for the moment he'd keep his mouth shut. Sam still had the spirit's hand. The cold had faded; an electric pins-and-needles sensation was in its place, and she did her best to ignore it. She glanced briefly back at Tucker, as if she'd needed his permission for anything they'd done that night, and asked: "Were you still going to bail?" Tucker shuffled his feet. "I guess not." She turned back to the spirit before her. "We can't stay too long - but I promise we'll be back tomorrow. Soon as the sun goes down. We can talk then, right?" (I'll still be here) Sam gave the ghost a little nod. She could still hardly believe it - she'd just made friends with an actual ghost! She took a deep breath, and asked quietly: "You have a name, ghost? Mine's Sam." The spirit's glowing green eyes turned slightly upwards. (Mine's Danny. I'll see you tomorrow) and just like that he vanished as the portal behind him powered down.

#danny phantom #phic phight 19 #phic phight #team ghost

112 notes · View notes

mr-lancers-english-class · 5 years

Text

Bringing a Ghost Hunter to a Laser Tag Fight

Phic Phight Entry! Prompt by @confusedandghostly: Valerie is questioned after a round of lazer tag with some friends because of her ridiculously good aim.

Word Count: 1368

AO3

It wasn’t until they all made it back home that they began to actually think about it. It was meant to be a fun Friday night, what with Valerie back in the group. All the A-Listers out to celebrate Starr’s birthday. Something fun and stupid and cheap. Laser tag. It wasn’t until they all thought about it that something seemed off.

Dash realized when he was watching Casablanca the next night, at home with his sister. The way Rick held the gun at the end had no confidence. It was the way people hold their first gun: just a bit wary. Admittedly, Dash thought to himself, movies from the 1940s are a whole lot different than now. That’s just how they held fake prop guns back then. So what if she held it better than that? It took another couple of seconds before he realized the she he was referring to was definitely Valerie, and another couple of minutes to dissuade himself of the idea that she knew what she was doing the last night. But his quiet reassurances couldn’t stop the little questioning thought in the back of his head.

Kwan realized the next day when he was throwing a frisbee with his dog. Having hit three trees, his own car, the car next to his car, another dog, and two pedestrians, he muttered to himself “Valerie would never miss the dog. She’d never hit a car or a person, and I’m the one on the football team.” He threw the frisbee two more times before the absurdity of his statement hit him, and was about to release it a third time when he knew for certain that what he had said was, without a doubt, true. His dog barked, so he threw the disc into a picnic table on accident, and thought back to the laser tag game.

Paulina took a week to even begin thinking about the fake guns and their little light shows. It was only watching the Red Huntress weave and dodge Skulker while fighting Phantom that she started comparing the ecto weapons to the laser guns, and it was only after Skulker was gone and the Huntress had no distractions from Phantom that she began to realize just how smooth and natural Valerie was in the game. Nobody should be good at laser tag without cheating, and Paulina was pretty sure she’d never seen Valerie so much as stumble in the dark arena.

While Dash, Kwan, and Paulina were happy and carefree until they started thinking too much, Starr noticed immediately. She had invited Valerie, despite her fall from the social ladder freshman year. They’d always been friends, closer than people thought, and as seniors now, Starr just didn’t care about publicly hanging out with the “right” friends. So when Valerie won the first game by almost a thousand points, Starr paid attention. When Valerie won the next game by double her own score, Starr became wary. After attempting to follow Valerie in the third game and losing her in less than a minute, then watching as she once again placed first, Starr wanted answers. For the fourth game, Starr didn’t even bother trying to find Valerie; she specifically tried to get surrounded in the hopes that Valerie would find her. It worked, and watching Valerie snipe half the enemies and then evade and destroy the other half actually began to make Starr frightened by her classmate. Being a black belt meant Valerie was skilled and strong, but only real life experience could lead to her comfort in the dark, smoky, flashy arena and her comfort with the little laser pistols. After the fifth game, Starr finally managed to corner Valerie at the food counter.

“Hey Val.”

“Starr! This has been so fun. I needed a night off.”

“Well, I’m glad. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, it has,” Valerie smiled. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Val,” Starr sat down at the counter, and motioned for Valerie to join her. “You want anything? My parents have a tab or whatever it’s called here, and even if you order something big, they’ll blame it on Dash or Kwan. They eat a lot.” Valerie laughed.

“Yeah, they do. Remember, in fifth grade, when they each tried to eat a whole pizza?”

“That was hilarious.” Starr turned back to look at the overpriced menu. Be subtle, Starr. Ask, but don’t make it obvious. “So, Val, you’re really good at laser tag. How often do you play?”

“Not enough. My dad used to take me here, back before we moved. It was our father-daughter thing. He was always really good.”

“What about you? When did you get good?” Starr glanced at Valerie.

“Well, probably, uh, when I started working out on my own,” Valerie trailed off. Starr had always been good with people, she could read them like books. Right now, her friend was hiding something. It was obvious, to the point that she bet Paulina would have seen it if she were here.

“That makes sense. You were pretty fast in there.”

“Thanks. You were good too,” Valerie said. Starr laughed.

“Not really. Not like you.” Before either of them could say anything else, someone came to get their orders. Valerie got a personal cheese pizza, a large salad, and a large drink. Starr got a hotdog and a small drink.

“What were you saying? I don’t remember.”

“You were really good. Like, scary good. And I have a feeling it’s more than just working out more. Val, no one is good at laser tag without cheating, but you weren’t cheating. So how’d you do it?”

“Do what?” Valerie had gotten sharp and defensive.

“Everything. Everything you did in that maze. I mean, you sniped a bunch of them, you took a bunch out on the ground, you even got the ones who had the vests on over their vests. You got both vests. On all of them. How?”

“I told you, I’ve been working out-”

“Please, Val. Working out only gets you so far. You were comfortable in there. You used the little pistols like you knew what you were doing.”

“My dad’s taught me how to use guns. For his job. He’s a security guard.” Valerie’s eyes were flitting everywhere.

“Please stop lying to me,” Starr sighed. “You’re my best friend Valerie. You’ve been my best friend for years. You don’t need to lie to me.”

“I though Paulina-”

“Paulina’s okay. She’s nice enough, but I don’t trust her, not like I trust you. She’s more worried about her social status than anything else.” Starr paused. “So please, Val, you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

Valerie had stopped looking for an escape. Her eyes were locked on Starr, and her gaze was intense. Starr had to physically stop herself from shrinking away. “I’ll tell you, Starr. Not here, not now, but I’ll tell you. You’re my best friend too, and I do trust you.”

Their food arrived then, and Valerie looked away quickly.

“Thank you, Valerie.”

“I can come over tonight, after Dash and Kwan and Paulina leave. Does that work?”

“Yeah, of course.” The two seniors turned the conversation to lighter topics, and finished their meals. They played one more game with the other A-Listers before everyone went their separate ways.

Dash, Kwan, and Paulina spent a few hours at Starr’s house, playing Truth or Dare and watching cheesy horror movies. Valerie went on an extended patrol. She barely even looked for ghosts, instead thinking about how to explain her extra job as the actually good ghost-hunting human to her friend. Starr spent the rest of the evening waiting. She knew she hadn’t been there for Valerie as much as she should have, but she also knew that, starting right then and there, she would be. Valerie was her friend, and she would do anything to be able to help her, especially with whatever her secret was.

As she stared out the window in her room, taking in the stars and the Amity Park skyline, with the bright green sign illuminating Fentonworks and the occasional flash from little ghosts, Starr had a feeling she knew what Valerie was going to tell her.

#valerie gray #starr #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #a-listers #danny phantom #paulina sanchez #dash baxter #kwan #friendship #bonding

41 notes · View notes

shinobicyrus · 6 years

Text

“Spiders”

A bit late, but here’s Ectober’s Prompt for October 29th: Spiders. I did the best I could to stay on topic (ie poorly). Warnings for copious nerdy-references.

“I always forget that you guys can do that,” Sam said, unable to look away.

Danielle, walking along the ceiling of Sam’s basement in her homemade Halloween Costume, continued to sing off-key. “Spider-Dan, Spider-Dan, does whatever a Spider-Dan does.”

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, we don’t really need to use it really often, what with the flying and all.”

“Can she swing, from a web? Even better: she can fly.”

“This is painful to listen to,” Danny informed her.

“More painful than the Amazing Spider Man 2?” Danielle asked.

“I thought we swore a clone-cousin blood pact to never speak of that again.”

“Y’know,” Sam said. “As hilarious as the thought of one of my nosy parents seeing you and having a heart attack, you should probably come down eventually.”

She flapped a dismissive hand. “Psht, relax, Sam. I know how to-”

Everyone turned to the the footsteps pounding down the stairs by twos. Sam exhaled with relief as Tucker hopped down the last two steps, grinning proudly in his crisp Starfleet Uniform. “’Sup, local lifeforms.”

“Oh my God,” Sam gaped. “Just when I thought he couldn’t be any more of a nerd, he’s boldly nerding where no one has nerded before.”

“That joke really doesn’t help your case, Sam,” Danny said.

Tucker put his hands on his hips in mock affront. “Hey yeah, glass houses, Sam!” He looked admiringly around the Manson’s fully decked out basement. “Even ridiculously expensive imported glass houses.”

“Point taken.”

Tucker kept glancing around the basement. “Hey Danny, wasn’t Elle supposed to be-”

“HI TUCKER,” she reappeared on the ceiling, two inches from his face.

Tucker shrieked and jumped back, nearly falling in his panic. Sam quietly noted just eerily similar Danielle and Danny’s cackles were.

“Ha-Ha very funny.” Tucker adjusted his uniform. “Hey Elle. What’s up.”

Even through the mask, it was obvious she was grinning. “Me.”

“I keep forgetting you and Danny can do the ghost-wall walk thing.” He nudged his glasses back up his nose. “Is that a Scarlet Spider costume? Nice.”

“Thank you!” Danielle threw up her arms. Or down, depending on perspective. “See, Danny? Tucker knew!”

The costume itself was a red Fentonworks jumpsuit, a mask, and one of Danielle’s ratty old blue hoodies, sleeves cut and decaled with a black spider emblem on the chest and back.

“Hey, I love Spider-Man as much as the next guy-”

“Just not as much as the next girl, it looks like,” Sam smirked.

“Seriously, dude?” Tucker looked almost pained. “Scarlet Spider? Spider-Man’s clone? Doesn’t ring any bells?”

“How are we even related?” Danielle shook her head sadly.

“Mad science gone too far.”

She pulled up (down?) her mask, flashing green eyes and wolfish smile all the more disturbing for being upside down. “Or not far enough. Muhahahaha.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Danny conceded. “You win Danielle, I am the inferior ghost-cousin when it comes to Spider-Man. Happy?”

She had to consider it. “Yes.”

“Great. Can we start the scary movie marathon, yet?”

“Not yet, we’re still missing one more,” Sam checked her phone. “I invited Valerie over too. She said she was on her way.”

“I saw her flying in,” Tucker said. “Think she was just looking for a place to land discreetly.”

Upstairs, the doorbell rang.

“I’M NOT HERE.” Danielle pulled down her mask and went invisible again.

“Ugh, why didn’t she call instead of ringing the doorbell,” Sam scowled. “Now my mother is going to answer the door instead.”

“Actually, it was your grandma,” Valerie’s footfalls were lighter on the stairs than Tucker’s had been. “Hell of a lady. Said she ‘accidentally’ ran over some toes to get to the door first.”

“Heh. Yeah, that sounds like Bubbeh, alright. Happy Halloween, Numbah 5.”

Valerie titled her red Gatsby cap in a solute. “Thanks for the invite, Princess.”

“That’s Firelord to you, peasant.”

“Fenton.” Valerie stared at Danny, looking utterly appalled. “What the hell are you wearing?”

He posed dramatically. “I’m Danny Phantom!”

“Yes to my eternal regret but what are you wearing.”

“I’ll have you know I worked very hard on this Danny Phantom costume. Finding the right cheap wig was the hardest part.”

“I still can’t believe you got away with that,” Tucker marveled.

“The best part is I managed to convince people that I was Wes,” Danny’s wicked smile was downright gleeful.

Valerie crossed her arms. “What is it with you two, anyway? Half the time I think you’re trying to drive him legit crazy, the other half it’s almost like you’re almost fl-”

“HI VAL!”

“Oh,” Valerie said, barely raising an eyebrow. “There you are.”

Danielle pulled her mask down to her forehead and whined. “Aww man! Didn’t I scare you even a little bit?”

“Sure, Elle. Just look at me,” Valerie said, her face a stony mask. “I’m so scared.”

“Spoilsport.”

“What the hell, I call hax!” Tucker crowed.

“Foley, I had this little gremlin living in my apartment for a year. At this point I’m immune.”

“Hey Danielle,” Sam called, voice teasing. “It looks like you two are about to do a Spider-Man kiss from here.”

Valerie snorted. Something like a squeak came from Danielle’s throat and she stumble-fell onto the carpeting at Valerie’s feet, who calmly watched her all the way down.

Danny chortled and said something in ghost-speak that had Danielle more red-faced and sputtering than she already was. “I wasn’t tryin’ ta- we weren’t...I-”

“Get your costumes straight, Manson.” Valerie said. “She’s the Scarlet Spider, not Spider-Man.”

“Oh come on!” Danny threw up his arms in abject outrage. “Now Valerie’s a bigger Spider-Man fan than me?”

“Only because she hasn’t shut up about the costume for the past two months,” Valerie rolled her eyes. “Unclench, Fenton.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Danny said.

“Gee, thanks for the permission.”

“Not what I- ugh,” he huffed a frustrated breath of cold. “No offense, Elle, but it’s still a weird choice for a costume.”

Pulling herself to her feet, Danielle pointed at the spider-logo on her chest. “Listen cuz, do you know how many non-evil clones there are in comic books and TV?”

Danny shrugged. “Uh...Superboy?”

Tucker suggested. “X-23?”

“Spider-Woman,” Sam said.

Tucker asked. “Jessica Drew or April Parker?”

“Yes.”

Danny snapped his fingers. “Oh! The Clone Troopers in Star Wars!”

“Kinda iffy since they worked for the Empire and killed all the Jedi,” Dani gestured a flimsy middle ground. “But yeah I was this close to being Captain Rex, instead.”

“Ya’ll are nerds.” Valerie told them. “For real. And you forgot the entire cast of Orphan Black.”

“Orphan Black!” The entire room echoed.

“I get what you mean,” Sam nodded. “You’re embracing your clone-heritage and railing against all the negative anti-clone stereotypes the media peddles out.”

“I mean...kinda?” Danielle shrugged. “It’s not like I can go on an internet message boards and tell people: hey I’m a clone and I found Supergirl’s evil clone Galatea super-offensive?”

“The invisible minority,” Tucker shook his head sadly.

“I forget: which one was Galatea?” Sam said.

Danny, Tucker, and Danielle chorused: “Boob window.”

“Oh, right.”

Valerie sighed. “Sayin’ again: Nerds.”

Tucker puffed out his chest. “And proud.”

“Hey Elle,” Danny asked tentatively. “You wanna...maybe do Star Wars next year? Like...together?”

“Hell yeah, clone pride!” Danielle whooped. “Anyone up for a super-nerdy Halloween next year?”

“I’m game,” Tucker said.

“Ohh,” Sam smirked evilly. “I could totally do Asajj Ventress.”

“Okay, first Azula and now Ventress?” Tucker asked.

“What? I like strong female characters in all-black.”

“How about you Val?” Danielle looked up at her hopefully. “I’m sure there’s at least one Star Wars character you’ll like.”

“Sorry, not really my scene.” She said. “I was kind of already planning to be my favorite Disney Princess next year.”

“Dare I ask?” Tucker still asked anyway.

Valerie put her hands in her pockets and looked over at something in the corner of the room. “Uh...y’know. The Warrior-Queen from that Atlantis Movie.”

“You mean Kida?!” Danielle blurted.

“What?” Valerie shuffled her feet. “I...always thought she was cool.”

“You would be too,” Tucker waggled his eyebrows. “In that outfit.”

“YoushouldtotallydoitI’llhelpyoushop,” Danielle whispered breathlessly.

“Hey guys,” Sam called over from the basement’s shelves. “Aren’t we forgetting why we’re all down here in the first place?”

“Not now Sam,” Danielle hissed.

“Silence, peasant, the Firelord has spoken,” Sam held up a stack of DVD cases. “Now, to start our spooky all-hallows marathon: Poltergeist...or Eight-Legged-Freaks?”

#Ectober Week 2017 #Danny Phantom #Dani Phantom #Scarlet Spider #Spider Man #Halloween #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Valerie Gray #I did way too much research on both clones #and the voice-cast of Danny Phantom #to make those nerdy-ass references #it *kind of* has spiders in it right?#proofread later #my writing #my fanfiction #Danielle is very invested in her Clone Pride #and seeing Valerie dressed as Kida #both are very important to her

254 notes · View notes