#brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics

[mysteryhat21art]

LETS GO ITS ECTOIMPLOSION TIME! Super excited to participate in another DP event and BOY DID I MAKE SOME ART. This is just the first of many that I'll be posting along with my partner in gore crime @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics who wrote an amazing companion fic that inspired about 75% of the extra art I wound up making. You'll want to check out his sick fic on FFN and AO3! And stay tuned for more gore coming up. Make sure to check out all the very cool artists and writers who participated be checking out the ectoimplosion tags there's something for everyone sprinkled in there.

[library-of-cronos]

Help Wanted

Happy Truce  @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics! I liked your “ghosts get a job at Casper High” prompt, so I went with that :)

Ao3

Staffing had always been an issue at Casper High, what with the constant ghost attacks. Teachers quit, classrooms were destroyed, and every other day it seemed like poor Mr. Lancer was teaching a new subject. It was clear the man was stressed out of his mind. It didn’t help that his students cared less and less about the subjects he taught with each passing day.

So, with all of the grace of a man stress-balding and losing so much sleep he could put ghosts to shame, he asked politely (nearly begged on his hands and knees on the floor of the Nasty Burger where he was eating(?) lunch) for the teenage ghost, Phantom, to please please convince some of his less violent friends to come teach classes for even a single day.

Pride be damned, even if he didn’t think it would work, he was willing to try anything for a day off. He hadn’t honestly expected it to work.

"Sure." Phantom said, shrugging and taking another bite of his half-eaten burger. He said this while chewing his meal. "Pretty sure they’d find it funny."

"...Funny?" Mr. Lancer squinted, his eyes red and irritated from the lack of sleep and his stomach burning from the caffeine. "They would find it...amusing?"

"To ‘teach those little brats a lesson’ for a day?" He mocked someone with a higher voice, but quickly went back to normal. "Hell yeah, she’d like that." He took a long, drawn-out sip from his soda, which was nearing its end. "There’s a couple others who would do it, for a price."

"Please." Mr. Lancer choked out, his desperation and sleep deprivation leaking through. "Just for one day. That’s all I ask."

Phantom shrugged nonchalantly, humming in response. "Sure. Don’t worry about showing up tomorrow." He finished the rest of his meal quickly, then threw it all out in the trash before lifting himself off the ground. He turned back to the teacher briefly. "But if you want a good laugh, I’d say stick around."

He vanished after giggling behind his hand and laughing all the way through the ceiling. Mr. Lancer sighed in relief that his plan had worked, and promptly collapsed onto the nearest booth.

Mr. Lancer didn’t have high hopes at first—God knows no one could reason with the likes of even the Box Ghost to stop destroying the town for one day—but he prayed and hoped (and prayed again) for just a mere day off.

He had woken up the next morning with no intent of going to his job and decided that even if Phantom couldn’t pull off the impossible, he would damn the consequences of not showing up for his classes. Of course, after spending approximately twenty extra minutes in bed desperately trying and failing to go back to sleep, his body screamed at him to get up and go to school out of habit.

The actions of getting up, getting dressed, packing up his things, and driving to school were all blurry in his head, but the one thing he noticed was that the streets were devoid of all ghost fights, including the GIW, Red Huntress, and the Fenton’s.

Casper High itself was quiet too. He looked up at the second floor while getting out of his car, half expecting it to be on fire without him. It stood proudly, not on fire, contrary to what he would have believed five minutes ago. He walked in the front door, maybe expecting the inside to lead to a ghost dimension, but it too was normal. The usual receptionist greeted him with a kind smile and a pleasant ‘good morning’.

Shaking his head, and thoroughly confused, he made his way to his first-period history classroom. He heard a single, calm voice behind the walls. The door opened, but he couldn’t have fathomed who was behind it.

A green-skinned ghost in a sky-blue gown, blonde hair held up regally, was floating at the front of the room, in front of a chalked-up blackboard, teaching in his place. A few students glanced over at his entrance, but other than that, every student was watching, listening, and taking notes on her lecture of the Middle Ages.

She glanced at him as well, nodding politely, before going back to her topic. He stood in the middle of the doorway, stunned, mouth agape. In the midst of his moments of staring, he noticed the staff name tag buttoned to her dress.

‘Dora’.

Mr. Lancer didn’t need to know any more. He wasn't going to question how Phantom, the teen-hero and enemy of ghosts, persuaded a ghost the teacher had never seen before to teach in his class at his school.

He walked to the vending machine, and mindlessly got a can of coffee. He spent what must have been the rest of the class ‘enjoying’ that terrible, bitter drink on a bench in the halls. It was the only break he’d gotten in the past month, and he wasn’t going to take it for granted by being suspicious of the ghost who’d given it to him.

The bell rang loudly, startling him. He put a hand over his rapidly beating heart, and took a calming breath, then put the empty can in the recycling bin and traversed the student-filled halls to his next class. For some reason, everyone was in a good mood today (seeing as no one slapped his head or called him silly names).

His second period class was in the computer lab. He had left his suitcase of teaching material somewhere along his journey from the front desk to where he currently stood outside the computer hall, though, and he’d already forgotten what it was supposed to be, so even if he wanted to teach, that was out the window.

Shaking his head and sighing deeply, he slid the door open to another strange scene.

The white-haired, electric-powered ghost that everyone knew by name because he shouted it out at every opportunity (almost rivaling the Box Ghost in that department), stood next to Mr. Baxter, guiding him along a research paper while monologuing about the sizes and fonts proper essays should be in. He would stop his rant to give advice or to praise the student for doing something well, but otherwise he chatted about the beauty of machines and how he decided to leave Phantom alone if it meant he got to be in a room with so many gorgeous electronics.

It was only then that Mr. Lancer noticed a trail of electricity running from his feet to each computer that was in use. If he squinted, the teacher could have sworn he saw a mini Technus displayed on the students’ screens, moving around and guiding them through their headphones.

He left, no one having seen him enter in the first place. The teacher decided to spend the rest of the class collapsed in the empty staff room. His weeks of insomnia were catching up to him, even with the coffee.

"Doin’ alright, teach?" A tiny laugh came from directly above him.

Without opening his eyes, he knew who it belonged to.

"Yes, Phantom." Sighing into his hands, he said. "However, I didn’t realize having the day off would be so stressful."

He snickered giddily, and Mr. Lancer loathed that he could not find this situation as amusing as he and his friends did. "Oh, and you haven’t even seen the best part yet."

"Please do not tell me." He shook his head and sighed again, somehow even more tired than before. "I would prefer to remain unaware for as long as possible."

"You got it, Mr. Lancer." He made a zipping sound, and presumably made the same action across his mouth. "My lips are sealed."

The room went quiet after that, and Mr. Lancer could only assume he had vanished through the ceiling again.

When the bell rang obnoxiously loud some time later, he slowly hoisted himself up from the chair and slugged over to the music room. This time, Mr. Lancer had an idea who would be behind this door. There was really only one ghost who had a music theme, though he had no idea why she would want to teach when the last thing he knew, she was hypnotizing his poor students into doing her bidding.

"Listen punks." Her voice was heard even through the door. It was...surprisingly gentle (considering her bold personality). "It’s 1, 3, 4." Three notes on an electric guitar played slowly. "Then 6, 8, 4, 44." Four more notes played. "Got it?"

Mr. Lancer heard a few affirmations, and the guitar shifted around. After a second, those first three notes played, a bit off-key but still correct. Then the next four, this time better.

"Now, do it all at once." He could hear the pride in her voice.

The student played the whole thing, and Mr. Lancer could hear the lyrics behind the notes. As they played it slowly, he followed along in his head.

You will remember my name.

Ah, of course the music ghost would pass on her favorite song. He actually stayed outside the music room for the rest of class, listening in on Ember's instruction and simply enjoying the pleasant sounds of guitars and cheers whenever a student got something right (cheers from both teacher and friends).

Just before he knew class was going to end, he got up from the floor, brushed himself off, and went back to the staff lounge before lunch began.

As he sat down, he began to get a little worried when he realized Phantom seemed giddy about something he hadn’t seen yet, even though there was seemingly nothing to worry about with Ember teaching his class, but he pushed it out of his thoughts so as to not ruin his break.

He suddenly realized that he had not only left his briefcase somewhere in the corridors, but also his lunch at home. Sighing in disappointment, he left to try and choke down some cafeteria food if he didn’t want to go hungry.

He was about twenty feet away from the closed cafeteria doors when he heard the raucous. He recognized the screams as those of his own students and dashed in, only to be hit in the face with what felt like chocolate pudding, but looked like radioactive waste. He exclaimed in disgust, trying to wipe it off with a nearby napkin, but when the napkin screamed back at him, he dropped it in surprise.

With one eye closed behind some radioactive pudding(?), he finally looked around to find out what was happening.

Inside, if his vision wasn’t failing him, there were definitely more ghosts than the ones teaching today.

While the Box Ghost was lifting boxes of utensils and politely threatening students with them (who were in turn throwing food at him in retaliation), Technus was summoning pictures of food from a stolen computer to lob at a ring of mashed potatoes the students had made as a target. There was a blue dragon huddled in the corner with a bunch of freshmen, all seemingly taking naps. Ember was standing on a table and playing her guitar for a screaming crowd (none of whom were mind controlled, just enjoying the show).

And Mr. Fenton had Skulker in a headlock?

"Heya teach!" He called out from where he was, dragging a complaining Skulker closer. Upon seeing his confused look, he glanced down at the struggling ghost. "Don’t mind this loser. He was trying to ruin our party, so he’s on timeout."

"Right." Mr. Lancer numbly nodded. "Well." He looked around again. There was food everywhere, the tables were flipped haphazardly, the Lunch Lady (when did she get here?) was serving radioactive food, and the bell was going to ring in ten minutes for class to start again.

Then, when class started, poor Mr. Lancer would be left to deal with this unholy mess.

Well, he’d only be left to deal with the consequences if he were here today.

"Good luck with your...party, Mr. Fenton." He decided. "If anyone asks, I was sick today."

When the students smiled, it was almost wicked, with bared teeth and nearly glowing eyes. "I hope you enjoyed your day off, Mr. Lancer."

[dp-marvel94]

Reveal via Clones

Summary: Maddie and Jack walk in on fives clones waiting for Danny in his room.

Word Count: 2,164

Also on AO3

For @lovelyunknown, @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics.

Note: Losely set in my "Life and Death is All Perspective" (ie all the clones come back as full ghosts) Series. My last story for phic phight! Prompts Below: Maddie finds damning evidence in Danny's room. by LovelyUnknown Good Dad Jack identity reveal by Hazama_d20 I saw that first prompt and thought "What more damning evidence than a bunch of clones?" 😂 My original idea was a lot more cracky than what I actually ended up writing. But I'm a serious angst writer so that figures. Enjoy!

Maddie had made up her mind. Tonight was the night. She and Jack were going to talk to Danny about everything. His failing grades, skipping school, missing curfew, getting into fights. 

Ignoring the problem hadn’t worked. Punishing Danny, hoping he would change his behavior, hadn’t work. Talking to Danny, reassuring him that he could tell them anything, even that hadn’t worked. Instead, Danny took to avoiding them.

But the mother had had enough. She was getting answers out of her son tonight. Even if they had to wait in his bedroom all night for him to come home. Her son wouldn’t suffer alone in silence anymore.

As the couple approached Danny’s room, voices rang out through the door.

“Oh! What’s this?” A curious voice with a bit of a lisp asked.

“Ezekial, be careful with that.” A different voice, smoothly sophisticated, gently rebuked.

A crash. “Oops.”

The adults froze at the noise, exchanging worried looks. Jack reached for the door knob.

“That was Danny’s favorite model rocket.” A third spoke, words with a disappointed note.

Maddie’s hand rested on the other adult’s arm, stopping him with a nod of her head.

“Let’s pick it up.” A deeper male voice. “Maybe we can fix it?”

“There’s some glue in the desk.” The third speaker.

Who were these people in Danny’s room? Friends from school?

“Maybe we should wait until Danny gets back.” A pre-teen girl’s voice spoke up, sounding a bit unsure. “I don’t know how this is supposed to go together.”

The woman’s eyes widened. There was something odd about the other voices, compared to the girl who just spoke….

“I think I remember.” The third said. “This one wasn’t really that hard to put together. It was one of his first.”

The eye-roll was almost audible. “Not all of us received memories from our progenitor, Damian.”

Progenitor? What was he talking about?

“That wasn’t my fault, Neil.” A teasing point, presumably from this Damian.

“I’m pretty sure it was.” The girl quipped.

“None of us knew overshadowing could do that.” Another audible eye-roll. 

Overshadowing…. Something only a ghost could do and… A hint of dread settled in Maddie’s stomach. That is what she had been picking up on; every voice but the girl’s had a strange echo….

“Memory stealer.” The lisping voice teased. 

“It’s just copying!” Damian, the object of teasing, argued. “Pro, come on. You’ve gotta defend me. You know I’m your favorite sibling.”

“Nah, Ellie’s my favorite.” The deeper voice joked, the smile audible.

“Yes!” The girl cheered. 

Maddie didn’t understand. The echoes… these were a bunch of ghosts? Of sibling ghosts? How could ghosts even have siblings?

Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time ghosts surprised them. Phantom did, again and again showing that he genuinely wanted to help, hence their truce. Phantom wasn’t a bad ghost but, this group, joking with each other in…

“I’m your favorite brother, at least.” 

“Nah, that’s Danny.” The deeper voiced speaker again teased. “Speaking of, when is he getting back?”

In their boy’s room. Ghost might not have been as bad as she and Jack previously thought. But these were five strangers! Ghosts they’d never even heard before, waiting for their baby in his bedroom. 

With that thought, the mother pulled her ectogun out of her belt. She and Jack met eyes, the man doing the same. A silent count to three and…

The knob was turned, door kicked open. “Eat Fenton Bazzoa, ghosts!”

Maddie’s eyes quickly took in the scene. Four ghosts. One wearing a white cloak, red eyes and green skin. Phantom or… no, somehow she knew (maybe it was the way he held himself or maybe something else) this was a look-alike. Another Phantom look-alike, though all of four feet tall. And a towering ghost, covered in scars.

The woman set her sights on the big one, finger hovering over the trigger. She didn’t want to shot but she was prepared if-

“Mads!” Jack gasped in surprise beside her, his weapon lowering. “Look.”

“Jack!” Her eyes darted to the object of his interest. “What-” She cut herself off, eyes widening. 

The fifth occupant of the room, the pre-teen girl…. She was human, staring at them with wide, frightened eyes. That wasn’t the surprise. But…

The jet black hair and…. those eyes, crystal blue, exactly identical to… 

“Danny?” Maddie asked.

Her head shook. No, she wasn’t Danny, obviously, but…

“Who are you?” Jack asked, voice as numbly shocked as the woman felt.

“Clones of your son.” The Phantom look-alike’s eyes widened, mouth snapping shut as soon as the words left his mouth.

Maddie blinked, her own gun dropping at the surprise. “Excuse me.”

The ghost’s eyes panickedly flickered among the others. “We are all…. Clones of your son, Danny Fenton?” His chests turned green, in a blush(?). “We were created by your college friend, Vlad Masters. He wishes to kill Jack Fenton, blaming you for the accident which killed him and for stealing Madeline from him. He has planned to marry you, Maddie, and claim your son as his heir and apprentice.”

Neither parent reacted, numb with shock. The other ghosts and the girl also stared, jaws dropped and eyes wide with disbelief.

The lack of response seemed to just encourage the ramble. “Danny proved quite, understandably, hostile to this plan, refusing to betray his father. Despite his efforts, Vlad could not achieve his goal of acquiring Danny as a son. Therefore he decided to create his own version of the boy, one who would be amenable to his plans, hence…” He motioned awkwardly. “All of us.”

Maddie… hadn’t registered half of that. Yet her spinning minds caught on one thought. “But…. you’re all ghosts?” The words came out surprisingly quiet.

“We all died before becoming stabilized.” The Phantom (Danny?!) look-alike raised one brow, before motioning to the girl. “Except for Danielle, of course. Besides, Danny himself is half-”

Something in the statement roused the other Phantom look-alike, an elbow to the side cutting off the word. “Dude! You can’t tell them everything!”

The taller’s mouth snapped shut, visibility embarrassed. “I may have committed an error….”

“I’ll say!” The shorter raised his arms. “I thought you were the smart one, Daniel.”

The other look-alike, apparently named Daniel (?!), blinked skeptically. “Why would you think that?”

“You always use long words and…. It’s like you don’t even know what an apostrophe is.”

“Damian, I know what an apostrophe is.”

The shorter, Damian, placed his hands on his hips, an eyebrow raised challengingly. “Then use one.”

“I don’t think I will.” Daniel’s nose turned up. “You are not the boss of me.”

Maddie watched the argument like it was a tennis match. They were… arguing. Like normal siblings. Like… normal kids.

“Mads…” Jack’s uncertain voice beside her. The woman half-tuned out the ensuing argument, turning a tentative eye to him. “Mads. I think he… Daniel’s… telling the truth.” The next words came out more confident. “And if he is, then…” 

The man put down the bazooka, uncertainty still in his eyes but no doubt, the action completely deliberate. He stood, shoulders back as if steeling himself. Then, he calmly stepped forward.

The kids froze, chatter cutting off. All eyes widened with fear.

Jack put his arms out, hand up disarmingly. His gaze fixed on the largest ghost “You’re a big one. Regular chip off the ole block.” A step forward, his expression strangely soft compared to his normal boisterousness. “What’s your name, son?”

The ghost shifted nervously, frantic eyes flickering from each of the other clones to Maddie and finally to Jack. He swallowed. “Um. It’s Prometheus, sir.”

“Prometheus.” The adult tested out the name. “That sounds greek. Isn’t it?”

“It’s uhh…. A long story.” The ghost, Prometheus, rubbed the back of his neck. (And didn’t the gesture look achingly familiar). “And everyone calls me Pro.”

“It’s a good name.” Jack chuckled. “And look at you! Swimmin’ in my end of the gene pool. Those spare hazmats we made for Danny and Jazz definitely won’t go to waste now!”

Pro did not respond, trading a vaguely panicked look with the girl. But the tension didn’t deter the man from continuing. He turned to the Phantom look-alike. “And you’re Daniel. Sharing a name with our Danno, I see.”

“Well. Yes, that is true…” A nervous swallow.

“Mads picked out the name. I wasn’t the biggest fan but she let me pick out Jazzy’s name.” He shrugged. Then, taking in the embarrassed face. (Maddie’s heart ached… it reminded her of a four year old Danny, caught stealing from the cookie jar). “You’re as green as an unripe tomato.” A kind chuckle. “Don’t feel embarrassed, kiddo. You’re not the first Fenton man to panic and say something he shouldn’t. And you probably won’t be the last.”

Daniel traded a look with his shorter look-alike, a silent conversation passing through. (Jazz and Danny had done the same, even this morning. These two… they all really were siblings, weren’t they?). Both relaxed ever so slightly.

“You’re taking this well.” The shortest said cautiously.

“I’m sure it’ll hit me later.” Jack laughed. “And your name was Damain, right?”

The ghost boy, Damian, nodded, puffing out his chest slightly. “I picked that out myself.”

“It’s a good one too. And…” His eyes flickered up, over Damian’s shoulder. “And who’s the quiet one over there?”

The short ghost floated to the side, the cloaked one drifting forward. “He’s Ezekial.” Damian answered.

“Zeke.” The thin figure lisped, spelling out the name with his fingers.

“Zeke.” Jack smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Cautiously, Zeke floated forward, just two feet in front of the man. A tentative hand reached forward. Jack offered, letting the thin fingers brush his for a hand shake. “You are… kinder than I thought.”

Something in the man’s expression cracked. “Oh kiddo…” With gentle squeeze off the fingers, he removed his hand, the motion deliberate, unlike the falling of his shoulders.

Jack turned, finally smiling at the girl. “And you’re Danielle.”

“Ellie.” She shifted nervously. “Sorry for barging into your house.”

“Non-sense, princess.” He waved her off. “You, all of you are….” Maddie saw it, in the moment their eyes met. He was seconds from pulling this kid, all of these kids into his arms. “You're all….” That word, on the tip of his tongue….

“Family.” Maddie could hardly believe the word coming from her mouth. But… “You’re family.”

She knew it was true, like the way her heart ached and her hand shook, the ectogun…. Ectogun…. She should holster that. The weapon returned to her belt, eyes fixed back on the children.

The faces looking back at her… she saw Danny in them, herself and Jack’s features, despite the ghostly glow and…. The woman felt seconds from crying. That ghostly glow… meaning they, most of them, had died. Her own flesh and blood passed away, gone before she even knew about them, much less held them.

No. Not gone.

Maddie stepped forward. “How many clones…” She swallowed. “How many of you are there?”

Ellie’s brow furrowed, eyes on each sibling. “Well, there’s the five of us. And… how many does Percy count as?”

Suddenly a green swirling portal opened. Just when Maddie thought her world couldn’t be turned anymore on its head….

A ghost with four arms floated through. “I heard someone say my name.” The opening closed, leaving a sixth similar-looking figure floating in the room.

“Percy!” The quiet, cloaked ghost exclaimed. “How many do you count as?” The words, again slow and lisping.

One of his hands tapped the new ghost, Percy’s chin. “One or…” The three eyes (he had three eyes?!) blinked, brow furrowed in thought. “Twenty-six. Depending on how I feel.”

Maddie just blinked at the sight, a hand going to her forehead. “We have so much to talk about when Danny gets home….”

Still…. The woman looked over the group of kids, five(?) ghosts and one human. The girl, human and seemingly healthy was a relief. But the others… even if they were ghosts, they were her children. That was as clear as the siblinghood in-between them, an undeniable truth her heart spoke.

Though, something niggled in her mind. Their apparent relationships with Danny. Their origin, created by Vlad. That sounded insane but… her stomach turned. With his obvious obsession with her, his strange interest in Danny, and questionable behavior, it made a sick kind of sense. 

But that comment, about Vlad having… died? And Danny…. Daniel had been about to say something about him.

Her mind was flailing for connections, that familiar ache welling in her chest. That familiar spectral appearance. Phantom look-alikes, she’d thought when she’d first seen Daniel and Damian. There was a resemblance to Danny too. Almost… almost as if….

Just then, Phantom phased through the window. “Sorry that took so long.” A bright white ring of light flared from his middle as soon as he landed, passing over him. “What did I… miss?”

The light disappeared, revealing….

“Danny?!?!!?”

Note: So that's the story. :) I'm uncertain if this will remain canon to the "Life and Death is All Perspective" Series. I'd always pictured Danny choosing to tell his parent about all his clones but this is fun too. So we'll see.

Also, I can't believe that I finally wrote the "Jack and Maddie meet Ellie" story, despite hinting at it a bunch of times in other phics. And this is freaking it. 🤣🤣🤣

[ghostboidanny]

Flowers of truth choking on my secrets

Danny lies sometimes. Of course he does, which teenager doesn't lie occasionally? But lying becomes much more important after he dies, alone, in his parents’ lab, inside a Portal leading into a whole new world. He lies to his family and to his friends, to his classmates and teachers and everyone else he comes across. He lies to himself. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. Because being Phantom is too dangerous and it’s the only way to keep himself his loved ones safe.

Unfortunately, for ghosts lying has consequences. Deadly consequences.

For Phic Phight 2023

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46471852/chapters/117011365

Prompts by: @a-closet-emo @going-dead @grimgrinningghoul @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics @modordracena @amabsis

Chapter 1: I died survived

The story ends like this:

Danny dies. 

He dies alone and scared in the portal that even his parents had given up as a bust. It isn’t supposed to work. Danny doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he and Jazz had been dragged into the basement for the grand activation of a portal into a ‘ghost zone’, so he had been there to witness the portal fail to produce even as much as a spark when activated. It isn’t supposed to work. 

A few days after the failed activation, he’s alone in the basement, performing his weekly chore of cleaning the lab. Jazz has dragged their depressed parents out of the house and Danny thought of inviting his friends over to look at the portal. Before he does that, he wants to clean up the disaster zone that is the lab. 

So he is alone, and the portal is right there and it isn’t supposed to work. 

Blame it on curiosity or teenage stupidity, but Danny stands in the lab and stares at the portal and decides that it can’t hurt to take a closer look. He remembers his basic lab safety and dresses in the hazmat suit his parents has made for him before stepping into the portal. And just like the cat, curiosity will end up being the death of him. 

Dressed in a thin layer of flimsy plastic, he steps into the mouth of the behemoth that is the portal. It is dark and his steps echoes eerily in the enclosed space. Electrical cables slither across the floor like snakes primed to bite a careless foot. To keep his balance, he keeps one hand on the wall of the portal, carefully watching where he steps so he won’t trip. 

Something moves beneath his hand with a soft click. Danny freezes, looks up. Sees a button with ‘on’ written proudly in big letters. A heartbeat passes and Danny breathes out in relief when nothing happens. 

Then.

Electricity bursts from the portal in a wave of freezing heat that burns through his body and freezes every muscle in place with such force that his bones break under the pressure. Locking him in place even as a scream steals his last breath from his body, making all thoughts of escape impossible. 

It burns through him, boiling his body in an instant, the stench of cooking meat in his nose. Every nerve in his body screams out in pain unlike anything he’s felt before. His body is disintegrating just as another force slams into him from the other direction, bringing sweet nothing with it. 

His last thought is: I’m dead and no one knows what happened to me.

Danny dies, only fourteen years old and utterly alone.

The story begins like this: 

Danny dies. 

Danny wakes up alone in the lab, the portal glowing an otherworldly green and casting its eerie light across the floor, bathing Danny in it. Therefore, it takes a second for Danny to realize that the portal isn’t the only thing glowing. His hazmat suit is black and white instead of white and black, the black so dark it seems to suck the light of the room into itself, and despite that his arm is outlined in a white sheen. He’s glowing. 

In the next few moments, Danny discovers he can do much more than just glow now. He can walk through walls, disappear and even fly. He's got no heartbeat, instead there's only a strange humming in his chest, and he doesn't have to breathe.

He's a ghost and to be a ghost he must have died. He's got ghost powers. 

In a panic he flies rushes to the mirror and stares in horror at his reflection. His hair is white and floating in an invisible breeze. His eyes are an eerie, glowing green the same color as the portal that killed him. This can’t be happening to him. It can’t be real. 

It’s not real. He’s dead alive. 

A bright light appears around his waist, and he flinches away from it, but it follows him, seems to be attached to him. The light forms a circle around his waist and then separates into two circles, one traveling up towards his head and one down towards his feet. Danny holds his breath hasn’t been breathing this whole time and closes his eyes, waiting to see what it will do to him if it will finish him off. 

A second passes, another one. Nothing happens. Danny opens his eyes and startles when he sees black hair and blue eyes in the mirror. He’s alive turned back to normal. Danny takes his first breath sighs in relief as his heart starts beating again races in his chest. Whatever just happened, whatever that was, was just a fluke. He’s fine. He flexes his hands there should only be a blackened crisps left of them and they move without pain and he brushes himself off, once more dressed in a white and black hazmat suit. It must have been his imagination, all of it. He’s not fine. 

As he turns, he startles as he sees that the portal is glowing an eerie green. So, it wasn't all his imagination, but it’s still fine. So what if the portal is suddenly working because he died activating it for some reason? At least his parents will be happy. But they will be very worried if they found out he was down here when it activated and the last thing Danny wants is to tell his parents, the ghost hunters, that he died make his parents worried. They don’t have to know what happened down here. 

It’s lucky, truly, that he was alone when the portal activated. No need to worry anyone. No need for anyone to know that he died anything strange happened. Danny can leave this all behind and forget about it. 

Danny walks out of the basement. 

[dipperpineneedles]

“Get to Know You Meme”

Answer the questions and tag nine people you want to get to know better.

Tagged by: @bloggerspam - Thank you for tagging me 🩷

Last Song I listened to: Insanity by CircusP

Currently obsessed with: Pokémon, Miraculous, and Invincible.

Currently Watching: A Sign of Affection.

Tagging - and don’t feel pressured to do this if you don’t want, but I’d love to get to know yall better :)

@focussoup @asideofkimchi @always-tired24-7 @moveovercutiepie @behemothbeastie @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics @frothytherabidcat @ashseadreamer @writedreamlie

[half-deadmagicperson]

Phic Phight Phic 6

Title: Tuesday Night Knitting

AO3

For @phicphight

Words: 1145

Prompt: Danny is forced to get a hobby. By @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics

Summary: Danny is bored. His friends suggested that he get a new hobby. Guess he'll try knitting.

Warnings: Off screen major character death

I know technically no one forced Danny to have a hobby, but his boredom did.

   "Since the ghosts haven't been attacking lately, I've been bored. I never realized just how much time I spent keeping them at bay," young Danny Fenton said to his two best friends before grabbing his Nasty Fries out of the bag. Tucker Foley paused on eating his burger to reply.

  "Maybe you need a new hobby?"

  "You could try gardening!" Sam chimed in.

  "No offense Sam, but that wouldn't work. I kill pretty much any plant I touch."

   "What about programming?" suggested Tucker.

  "Not really my thing. I need to find something nice and relaxing, but also useful.

   "My Grandma Ida knits," his goth friend mentioned as she brought her tofu sandwich to her mouth.

   "Yeah, but knitting is for old ladies," Tucker argued.

   "Knitting and crochet are both relaxing and useful. You could make literally anything. And who knows? Danny might enjoy it!" Sam defended.

   "I mean I suppose I could give it a shot. How hard could it be?"

  "Great! I'll get in touch with Grandma Ida and see when she's available to teach you," Sam replied.

   The trio spent the rest of the evening chowing down on their food and talking about various things and tea from school. Before they departed, Sam told Danny she'd text him the dates and stalked off into the night.

  

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

   The date was set for Danny to head over to Sam's house to see her grandma. Danny's nerves acted up when he arrived at Manson Mansion. Sam's parents still disapproved of him. Thankfully, Ida had picked a day when the Manson's were out on business. He rang the doorbell.

   Sam's grandma answered the door and sweetly beckoned Danny in. She brought him to a cozy sitting room (one of many in the house) and showed him to a chair next to hers. Danny sat down as Ida pulled out needles and yarn. She gave Danny a bluish-grey skein of yarn.

   "Now, what should we make first?" Grandma Ida asked, tapping her chin. She brightened up.

  "I know! How about we make a scarf?"

   She showed Danny how to cast the first stitches onto his needle. After he finished casting on twenty stitches, her frail hands guided his own in the motion of a standard knit. It was a bit hard at first. He would sometimes lose the stitch by pushing it off the needle too early, but Ida patiently helped him and offered bits of advice here or there.

   The afternoon flew by and Danny made a lot of progress! Grandma Ida brought him some tea and a snack from the kitchen. She had started a scarf of her own shortly after she helped Danny, and she was a lot further along. The two of them swapped stories over tea while Danny finished up his scarf. Ida taught him how to close it off and sew in the loose ends.

   He held the scarf up in pride. It was very uneven and had a few holes from missed stitches, but he was happy with it. Grandma Ida smiled and patted his head.

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

   For the past three years, Ida and Danny had been knitting and crocheting over tea every Tuesday. Danny learned that homemade scarves and hats and sweaters make good presents. He also liked to make some to donate to charity.

    One Thursday he got a call from Sam.

    "Hey Danny? I got some news," she started, "Grandma Ida is in the hospital."

   "Is she okay? What happened?"

   "She's fine. She just wasn't feeling too great. The doctors are holding her overnight to run some tests."

   "Okay. Well, I'll go visit her. Love you lots!"

    "Love you too. See ya at school tomorrow."

   "See you then."

   Danny hung up the phone and prepared to drive out to see Ida. He grabbed his coat as well as a small parcel.

  After checking in at the front desk, he walked over to her room.

  "Hi Grandma!"

   "Hello Danny!" Despite her sickness, she was just as cheerful.

   "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I brought you something!"

   "Oh let me see!"

  He handed her the parcel and she unwrapped it. Inside was an uneven, blue-grey scarf with holes in it. She looked over at Danny and smiled.

   "I remember that day," she spoke fondly, "Now, Danny, I need you to take care of something for me. I need you to take these."

   She held out her favorite pair of knitting needles. Danny looked up at her in confusion.

   "Why do you need me to take them? Won't you need them for your projects?"

   "Ah, alas, I fear my time is almost up. And, well, I can't very well leave them to my daughter. She'd just throw them away! I wanted to leave them with someone special who'd actually use them."

   Tears stung Danny's eyes as he responded, "But… How could your time be almost up? Sam said you were fine! You're gonna be fine, right?"

   "I have lived a very long and content life. Eighty-five years is a lot. I'm not scared of death. It was bound to happen at some point. It's part of being human."

   Danny stared at her contemplatively. Ida patted his hand.

   "Besides, I'm sure we can still have tea and knit. It'll just be different. Now, take good care of these needles and take good care of Sam. I always knew you two'd end up together."

   Danny smiled and gently took the needles. He said his final goodbyes and walked out to the car. He sobbed all the way home.

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

   Grandma Ida died in her sleep on Friday night. The following weekend, her funeral was held, and Danny put the scarf he gave her by her grave. Later that day was the reading of her will. Her family, as expected, got most of everything, but there were a few items listed for one Daniel J. Fenton. He was to receive all of Ida's knitting needles, hooks, and yarn, as well as a small parcel with his name on it.

    Danny loaded the yarn hoard into his car. Man, she really had a lot of yarn. He closed the trunk and swung into the driver's seat. In his hands, laid the small parcel with his name scrawled on it. He carefully opened it to reveal a note.

'Incase you get cold'

   Behind the note there was a lime green scarf with the Phantom logo added to it. He cried. It was the same scarf she made the first night they sat for tea while her frail hands guided him into making his own creation.

   The following Tuesday, Phantom walked into the Infinite Realms towards its newest lair. An elderly ghost answered the door and let him in.

   "Now, what should we make today? I know, a scarf!"

    Danny smiled as he pulled out some yarn. The two sat down and began their work.

[shamelesslymkp]

REC: Marsalias - Quit Your School Join My Ghost Band

URL: https://ift.tt/X31OKZe by @five-rivers Prompt by @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics: Danny needs help with his ghostly wail. Ember offers voice lessons. (PR297) (Words: 1,719) Part 6 of Phic Phight 2022 !!!fandom, !!fic, |site:ao3, +fandom:danny.phantom, ::rating:general.audiences, ~author:marsalias, character:danny.fenton, character:ember, character:jazz.fenton, ::category:gen, \no.archive.warnings.apply, ~ao3:traumatic.haircuts

[five-rivers]

Quit Your School, Join My Ghost Band

@brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics

.

Danny screamed into the void.  It screamed back, quite literally, ectoplasm and pseudo-emotional loci echoing the sound and feelings back at him.  The tree next to him was stripped of leaves, but regrew them even before Danny dropped to his knees, gasping.  

He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t breathe.  He curled in on himself, hands grasping at the purple-gray rocks that made up the floating island.  

As a ghost, he didn’t need to breathe.  Shouldn’t need to breathe.  He’d been to space with no oxygen.  He shouldn’t be out of breath, ever.  

Iron and salt coated the back of his tongue and his body shook.  His rings flickered in and out.  He tasted citrus and copper.  He spit, and his saliva was speckled with green and red.  Gross.  

At least he hadn’t transformed this time.  That was good.  Keeping a secret identity didn’t just keep him from being arrested, it kept him from being horribly experimented on by the government.  Or his parents.  Or random ‘ghost hunters.’  Or alien enthusiasts.  Man, those guys were not picky.  Something people should have already figured out from their obsession with ‘probing.’ 

He pushed himself up to sit on his heels.

Having his strongest attack wipe him out like this really wasn’t ideal.  Yeah, it was a last-ditch thing, not something he was going to pull out for just anyone, but what if it didn’t work?  What if he went all in, and his opponent still had fight left, after he’d run out?

He’d die, that’s what.  

Since he wasn’t an idiot, no matter what his grades said, and he didn’t actually have a death wish, no matter what kind of jokes he made, he was practicing.  Because practice made perfect, or at least better, and with the way the ghosts coming through the portal were getting stronger and nastier…

He shook himself.  He’d probably be okay to try again in an hour or so, if he wanted to go the endurance route.  Repeated use should make it easier, right?  That was how things worked.  Or he’d be able to fly home.  

He was highly tempted to fly home.

“Wow, babypop, that sounded pretty wretched.”

Danny jumped and overbalanced, finally getting around to face Ember while crouched on the ground.  It was his luck to run into an enemy while practicing a skill that incapacitated him in an effort to not get incapacitated in front of an enemy.  

Ember, for her part, looked unconcerned.  She blew a bubble in the neon pink gum she was chewing, and popped it.  

“You’re gonna wreck your voice if you keep up like that, you know?”

“What?” rasped Danny.

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to wreck your voice.  You’ll wind up sounding like a fifty-year-old lifelong smoker before you’re twenty if you keep that up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Permanently, I mean, rather than this temporary bit you have going on here.”  She traced a finger over him.  “Have you never heard of vocal warm ups?  Or maybe just not screaming at the top of your lungs?  It’s godawful to listen to.”

“Well, sorry to disturb you, but that’s how my power happens to work,” said Danny, angrily, wincing at how his voice cracked.  

“Are you sure?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Ember rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.  You don’t know squat, do you?”

“H-hey!”

“It’s so painful listening to you.  It makes me want to put holes in my eardrums.”  She flicked her fingers, and a tongue of blue fire appeared between them briefly before dissolving into a small, paper card, which she held out to Danny.  “Look, when you’re done feeling like you just gargled sandpaper, come look me up.  Believe it or not, I do know my way around voice based powers.  And how to scream without destroying your vocal cords.”

Danny stared at her, uncomprehending.  

“It’s a calling card, dweeb.  Medieval, I know, but there aren’t exactly phones or road maps around here.  Not safe ones, anyway.”

“A what?”

“God, you’re a loser.  A calling card.  It’ll show you where to find me, moron.  Have you never been invited anywhere?”

“Not in the Ghost Zone,” said Danny, before grimacing and rubbing his throat.

“I almost feel sorry for you, but honestly I can’t blame them.  You kinda suck.  Try honey.”

“Wha?”

“Honey.  Like from bees.  You have heard of bees, right?”

“I’ve heard of bees.”

“Good for you, babypop,” said Ember, in a falsely sweet voice.  She took her gum out of her mouth and threw it at him.  “Later!”

.

Jazz attacked his hair with brutal efficiency.  

“She said all that, and then stuck ghost gum in your hair?”

“To be fair, to her it’s just gum,” said Danny.  “I’m just hoping it doesn’t gain sentience.  Or, you know, eat all my hair.  How much do you think you’ll have to cut off?”

“Uh,” said Jazz.  “Still working on that.”

“I mean,” said Danny, as Jazz tugged on his hair, “she seemed sincere.  As sincere as Ember ever is, anyway.  She could’ve wasted me by herself just then, too.”

“I suppose that’s true.  It seems a bit… confrontational, though.”

“Yeah, maybe.  But not in terms of, like, other ghosts, if that makes sense?”

The scissors went snik snik near his ear.  “Uh huh.  In that context, sure,” said Jazz.  “But I’m not entirely sure it’s smart to judge ghosts by a completely different behavioral scale than humans.  If someone from Casper High walked up to you and treated you like that, then gave you an invitation to their house, would you go?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

“Really?”

“I mean, I have done that.  I went to Dash’s party, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, you did,” said Jazz.  “But didn’t they also mercilessly mock and demean you?”

“Well,” said Danny.  “Yes.  Yes they did.”

Jazz sighed.  “You’re going to go anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yep.  I mean, hey, worst case scenario is that we fight each other, and we do that every other week, anyway.  Right?”

“I guess,” said Jazz.  She put down the scissors and Danny heard something drop into the trash bin next to them.

“Oh, are you done?  Thanks for–”  Danny ran a hand over his hair.  What was left of it.  He brought his other hand up to check what he was feeling.  “Jazz.”

“Okay, before you get mad, I did tell you that I’d never cut anyone’s hair before and you had a lot of gum in it.”

“It’s gone Jazz!”

“It’ll grow back!  Our family doesn't have a history of male pattern baldness!”

“I have school tomorrow!”

“You can wear a hat!”

“Not all day I can’t!”

“What are you kids–  Oh my,” said Maddie.  She came fully into the room.  “Oh dear.”

Danny put his face in his hands.

.

“It isn’t that funny!” complained Danny.  “You can stand up now.  You don’t even need to breathe!”

Ember did not straighten up.  In fact, she pulled her feet off the ground so she could rotate in the air, laughing.  Gradually, she drifted to the center of the stage that made up the majority of her lair.

“Your hair.  It’s even better than I imagined!  Serves you right for doing it to me!  Ha!”

“You did that on purpose?”

“You were there when I threw the gum, babypop.”

Danny huffed.  “I’m going home.  I don’t have to deal with this.”

Ember grabbed his shoulder.  “No, you’re not.  I’m a ghost of my word, and you really do have atrocious screaming technique, even if you do have a great set of pipes.”

Danny was dubious, but he stopped.  

“Great,” said Ember, “we can get you started on some warm ups.”

.

“You’ve been doing the warm ups every day?”

“Every day,” confirmed Danny.  

“Alright,” said Ember.  “Let’s hear them.  Then you can do one of your screamy things.”

“It’s called the Ghostly Wail.”

“That’s so lame.”

.

“Here, see if you can sing this,” said Ember, shoving a sheet of paper at Danny.  

He looked down at it.  “Uh,” he said, “I can’t read this.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, there aren’t actually any words here.  Just notes.”

“You can’t read music?” asked Ember, in disbelief.  

“Believe it or not, fighting ghosts all the time kind of precludes me from being in band or choir.  Or anything extracurricular, for that matter.”

“Precludes.  You steal that word from your sister?”

“A vocabulary test, actually.”

“God, you’re hopeless.”  She materialized her guitar.  “Sing along with me, loser.”  She strummed a chord.  

“You know, I’m starting to detect an ulterior motive at play here.”

“Shut up and sing.”

.

“I’m not here to learn guitar,” said Danny.  

“Either learn it, or you can say goodbye to my help.  You’ve been able to do your thing without collapsing, right?”

“I guess,” said Danny, a bit sulkily.  He had always wanted to learn to play an instrument.  It was just the method…

“So, hold the neck like this.  No, not like that.  You’ll put a nasty crick in your neck.  You still have all those stupid little bones.”

.

“What’s going on?” asked Danny.  There were a lot more ghosts in Ember’s lair than there usually were, swarming over the stage and the seating in front of it.  

“Oh, good, you’re here.  You’re backup vocals and guitar.”

“I’m what?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” said Ember.  “I know you aren’t deaf.  Speaking of, earplugs are in that jar over there.”  She pointed.  

“So,” said Danny, “this is the ulterior motive.”

“Well, yeah, dipstick.  What do you think we were practicing for?”

.

“I hate you,” said Danny, hoarsely.  

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”  Ember threw a bottle of water at him.  “We have another gig on Tuesday, one o’clock.”

“I have school.  And I’m not part of your band.”

“Quit your school, join my ghost band.”

“... No.”

“Alright, Saturday, then.”

.

Danny stood on a lonely island in the Ghost Zone.  The tree next to him flexed its leaves.  

He took a deep breath, and wailed.  

When he was done, he was still on his feet.  

“See?  I told you it’d pay off,” said Ember.  “Now, this is our playbill for our next gig.”

“I’m still not in your band.”  His throat was a little sore, but it was nothing as compared to what he’d dealt with before Ember’s lessons.

“It’s cute how you still think that, babypop.  Anyway…”

[arisu-artnfics]

I got the honor to participate in the big bang of Danny Phantom this year, thanks to @invisobang for organise it. I worked side to side with @realititrip​ and their amazing art skills and of course @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics​ and his amazing writing skills.  You should go and read the fic: “Night at the High School” by @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics​ on AO3 or here, and see of course @realititrip​‘s arts here and on their twitter as a whole video there.  I also pointing out that, that cloths and specially Danny’s logo is design/done by @realititrip​ who allow me to used that. 

Summary:

Ever since the accident two years ago, Danny has had what some people would call luck when it comes to the paranormal. When he heard that Sam wanted to use that "luck" in help with a class assignment, he knew it was a bad idea.  It was an absolutely terrible idea. And yet, he was gonna go along with this anyways.

Also on: DeviantArt || Facebook  

Tuve el honor de participar en el big bang de Danny Phantom este año, gracias a @invisobang​ por organizarlo.  Trabaje lado a lado con @realititrip​ y their increíbles habilidades artísticas y por supuesto @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics​ y sus increíbles habilidades de escritura. Deberían de ir y leer el fic:  “Night at the High School” por @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics​ en AO3 o aquí, y por supuesto las artes de @realititrip​ aquí y en their twitter como un video allá.      También quisiera apuntar, que las ropas y especialmente el logo de Danny fue diseñado/hecho por @realititrip​ quién me dejó usarlo. 

Resumen (No traducido, ya que la historia sólo está en inglés):

Ever since the accident two years ago, Danny has had what some people would call luck when it comes to the paranormal. When he heard that Sam wanted to use that "luck" in help with a class assignment, he knew it was a bad idea.  It was an absolutely terrible idea. And yet, he was gonna go along with this anyways.

También en: DeviantArt || Facebook

[kinglazrus]

For the Fanfic ask game, 32 and 39?

32. What story do you think showcases your signature style the most?

That is an excellent question and not one I'm sure about the answer to. I'm not great at analyzing my own writing. @ecto-american is better at recognizing my style than I am lol. But since I don't want to leave you hanging, probably whatever my most recent fic is at the time. My writing is constantly influenced by whatever I'm reading at the moment, so whatever I've written most recently would be the most accurate.

Actually right after writing this I thought of the Haunting of Danny Fenton, which I started writing for phic phight 2020. I don't know if it really showcases my style the best of all my fics, but I really love some of my writing in that one.

39. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Does creativity count as an area? Because if there's one thing I think I could do well, it's look at a single prompt and think of a dozen different ways to use it without being repetitive.

fanfic asks

[mysteryhat21art]

Wowzers we are at chapter 8 of Desynced already! Been saving the art for Johnny 13 till both him and Shadow got their debuts. You can find Chapter 8 here on AO3 and FFN! And as always thank you to the incredible @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics for their stellar fic! More art from this AU Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[realititrip]

"Ever since the accident two years ago, Danny has had what some people would call luck when it comes to the paranormal. When he heard that Sam wanted to use that "luck" in help with a class assignment, he knew it was a bad idea. It was an absolutely terrible idea.

And yet, he was gonna go along with this anyway."

– Night at the High School by @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics

my piece for invisobang 2022 📺

@arisu-artnfics and i got the pleasure of making illustrations for @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics 's fic

you can check out arisu's art here

[ghostboidanny]

Flowers of truth choking on my secrets

Chapter 2: I’m not alright

Chapter 1

Ao3 link

Danny lies sometimes. Of course he does, which teenager doesn't lie occasionally? But lying becomes much more important after he dies, alone, in his parents’ lab, inside a Portal leading into a whole new world. He lies to his family and to his friends, to his classmates and teachers and everyone else he comes across. He lies to himself. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. Because being Phantom is too dangerous and it’s the only way to keep himself his loved ones safe.

Unfortunately, for ghosts lying has consequences. Deadly consequences.

For Phic Phight 2023

Prompts by: @a-closet-emo @going-dead @grimgrinningghoul @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics @modordracena @amabsis

Over the next few days, Danny discovers that it's not so easy to forget that he died something happened. Body parts keep turning invisible or intangible at random intervals and he has woken more than one night floating above his bed. Woken by nightmares of being torn apart molecule by molecule. He is forced to admit, at least to himself, that something did happen to him. The portal must have killed him given him ghost powers. 

But luckily his parents are so busy rejoicing over the thing that killed him the portal working, that they don’t notice that anything is wrong with him. He doesn't want the ghost hunters to notice the ghost living under their roof to worry them. Jazz is harder to avoid, having kept an annoyingly worried close eye on him since they were little because their parents didn’t. It took more work, but he mostly managed to dodge her too why couldn’t she see that something was wrong with him? and keep his new powers secret. He just feels very a little bad about the way he had to snap at her for Jazz to stop asking questions and checking in on him. 

His friends are the next challenge. Especially Tucker. He’s known Tucker almost as long as he’s known his family, after all. He used to shares everything with Tucker, even sickness. When he returns to school on Monday, Tucker can immediately tell that something is wrong. Danny tells him a lie half truth. The portal started working and now his parents are so obsessed with it they didn’t notice that he died forgot about him and Jazz again. Tucker believes him. Why doesn't anyone notice that he’s lying? That he needs help? It’s a relief. The last thing he wants is to worry his friends about something that doesn't even matter. He’s fine! His hand turns invisible for a second and he hides it behind his back. 

Sam is the easiest to convince. She’s known him the shortest and when he tells her about the portal working, she’s so interested in it that she forgets about her worry for him just like his parents. She asks him if it really leads into the afterlife. If he’s seen any ghosts. He has, in the mirror every day since he died says no. She is disappointed but drops the subject. 

In the end it's easier to lie to them reassure them that nothing is wrong than he’d thought it would be. Which is good! Nothing is wrong after all! He’s not alright! He’s not fine. He’s dead.

Then the ghosts attack. 

At first there’s only ghost blobs and ectoplasmic octopuses coming through the portal, and he can deal with them easily enough with a small Fentonwork blaster. Maybe he should tell his parents about the ghosts but then he would have to explain why he can feel them they’re not really a threat so he can deal with it himself. No need to worry his parents and draw their attention away from the portal. 

Then Sam makes the school change the menu to a vegetarian one. A ghost appears. A humanoid one. She calls herself the Lunch Lady and at first Danny thinks that she’s harmless. She reminds him of a grandma, and he thinks that maybe his parents are wrong, maybe not all ghosts are monster, maybe he is not a monster he can ask her to go back to the Ghost Zone without a fight. He is wrong. She turns into a meat monster and almost kills Sam. 

Danny transforms. His heart stops, he stops needing to breathe, his body grows cold and his blood turns a toxic green. It’s the only way to save Sam. He fights the Lunch Lady, almost dying again a few times, but in the end, he manages to defeat her and send her back to the Ghost Zone. He is bruised and bleeding green from a few wounds but it's small enough that he can patch himself up. The most important part is that Sam is safe. He saved her. He is a hero and heroes can’t be monsters.

More and more ghosts come through the portal after that. They’re more and more dangerous, harder and harder to defeat. He fights them because no one else can it’s the right thing to do. He fights them alone and he fights them as a ghost Phantom. 

School suffers. Danny doesn't have the time to study for tests or do his homework when the ghosts appear constantly and he has to fight them. He must leave in the middle of class to fight them. He gets detention and has to bail from them too. His grades plummet. He can only watch as his dream to become an astronaut goes down the drain. But it's not alright! He might never become an astronaut, but he is an actual superhero. All kids dream of becoming heroes. There is no use reason to dream of the stars when he is saving his city daily. This is a dream that came true just not for him and he should be is grateful for it.

School isn’t the only thing that suffers. It unfortunately gets harder to come up with excuses to appease his sister and friends. His parents even notice finally that he’s not acting the same, but they’re easier to lie to reassure and their attention is easy to direct towards ghosts or inventions. Sam and Tucker are much harder. They notice the bruises and the bandages, but luckily or so he tells himself they know he gets bullied and only thinks it's gotten worse which it also has. They notice too little much about him. Cutting them out of his life is for the best, really. It’s safer for them since being around him is dangerous because he’s a monster the ghosts keep attacking him. This way he can keep them safe. They don’t understand why he cut them out and got angry about it but that’s not fine. It’s not not like he misses them anyway. He’s not fine with being alone. 

Jazz is the hardest to escape. She too notices the bruises and the bandages. She also notices his empty bed when he sneaks out at night and takes the calls home about his grades. She by far sees the most of his struggles but not enough. Keeping her out of his business is almost impossible but he finds a way. Lashing out at her, pushing her away, being downright mean makes her more suspicious might finally make her realize what’s wrong, but it also keeps her from getting closer. He can’t let her get closer. Being around him is dangerous. 

He’s dangerous. Ghosts are monsters - his parents said it and he’s seen it for himself. And Danny is a ghost. Danny is a monster. Danny died. Alone. Scared. In excruciating pain. And he’s still alone and scared and far too often in pain. Can’t someone notice that he needs help? Can’t someone see through the lies he fabricates? 

It's better this way anyhow. It has to be, or he’ll break.

Danny’s not alright.

[deuynndoodles]

[image id: a digital drawing. it is set in a school gym with a punch table in the center. ember mclain and sam manson hold cups of punch and converse with each other, both wearing formal wear with punk accents. colors are warm and muted, suggesting it's night time. party banners in the background read "the last dance".]

a commission for @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics! its a cover for one of their fics, read it here :]

[hauntedozone]

Artists support artists! Thank you to @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics for entrusting me with this commission, I’m so happy I got to bring your Three Note Chords series to life.

For my Ember phans, show this fic some love! It’s seriously some of the best writing of Ember I’ve seen, and manages to balance humor and angst. If you read it, let me know what you think!! 

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Last video. Rafting

I believe the sign being held on stage said “welcome” in German. They also launched into Auslander when the all landed. If you’ve seen the music video for that song, it’s a great segue.

@gilbirda @brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics