#phandom little pop

[ace-s-fav-dp-posts]

If you're sick of the current popular trope/story prompt in the Phandom or DPxDC fandom you just need to ignore it

I feel like the fans in the Phandom and DPxDC minifandom that's popped up, who are really grossed/creeped out by the genre of fic popular right now.

Where the set up is some variation of Outsider POV and the plot is based around the assumption that Vlad SAed Danny in order to create Dan and Danielle, are people who haven't been around that long.

Especially when they try to whine about none of it being based in canon. And how they don't like the shipping of Vlad and Danny (even though the people who write these kinds of fics are very obviously not shipping Vlad and Danny in them).

Because the Phandom has historically gone through phases much more gruesome and horrifying than that.

Especially when in this current micro-genre, all of the SA and grooming and other kinds of abuse are implied only, and within the fics themselves the assumed abuse never actually happened. As the plot is based on over heard or misinterpreted fragments of information that doesn't give the POV character the full picture of the situation that's actually going on.

There's the infamous vivisection fics, in which the child main character is brutally cut open and tortured by his own parents in the name of their biased views of science. Who in canon, both happily accept him no matter what every time a reveal is happens and never so much as rejects Danny emotionally.

Then there's the variation on the traditional vivisection fic in which Danny isn't emotionally rejected and stripped of his humanity by his own parents. But instead captured and stripped of his human rights by the government, either by his parents unknowing actions which they stay oblivious to. Or in spite of his parent's acceptance of him, and with them helpless to rescue or protect him from the government's torturous "research".

There's the already existing variation of grooming and SA fics, where Vlad grooms and or assaults Danny. Which have been popping up for years now, but in which all of this type of horrible abuse actually happens in the story, instead of it being an Outside POV misunderstanding what's happen like the current micro genre of fic.

There's the fics where the Fentons have just been abusive or just negligent parents Danny and Jazz's entire lives. And them hurting Danny, emotionally or physically, intentionally or accidentally, is just an extension of their already unacceptable parenting habits.

There's the edritch/body horror genre of fics where becoming half-ghost (or sometimes something else) involves at the very least the partial loss of Danny (or Vlad)'s humanity.

Hell there's one fic that's stuck with me for ages, that I read years ago, back in my teens, written from the POV of a Maddie who murdered Danny to prevent him from becoming Dan. Which is stated in that fic to be inevitable.

It's also heavily implied that Maddie had incestuous feelings for Danny the entire fic. And that she also possibly raped him in the midst of her extremely violent* vivisection murder of him. But that if she didn't rape him, at the very least, ripping him open to see his insides while he was awake and struggling got her off anyways.

So yeah, I don't know what other explanation there is to all these people who seem confused and freaked out by the various fics popping up where there's assumed SA/grooming, but actually nothing outside of canon actually happened to Danny, and the whole thing is just a misunderstanding.

Other than them being extremely new to Danny Phantom fics in general and therefore unaware of just how dark (and potentially triggering) they can be.

When there's been fics for years about SA and grooming, some of which is explicit, some of which is all implied and talked around and just as gut wrenching, and some of which is actually painted in that cringe forbidden love sort of way, for more than a literal decade now.

If you don't like it, if it makes you uncomfortable, you're just going to have to ignore or block those people, like everyone else in the Phandom who feels the way you do has done for more than a decade now.

Don't make comments to those authors that you don't like that trope, or that it makes you uncomfortable, or anything similar. Just ignore them or block them if it really bothers you that much. Because if you don't like their stuff, then rather obviously you are not their intended audience, so you need to ignore their posts and fics and keep scrolling if you're not going to block them.

*Also yes I must state it was a violent vivisection murder. Because it is clearly stated in the fic, that Vlad finds Maddie sitting outside on the porch covered in Danny's blood and viscera, and that the room she killed him in is in a similar state.

I wanna say the fic got deleted during the old Fanfiction.net purge of more adult content, even though all of the sexual abuse/incest parts of the fic where all implied and not explicit, along with the violent vivisectoin murder taking place off screen.

Though I could be wrong, and it's still out there somewhere, and possibly not exactly as I remember it. I read it more than 5 years ago now, so there's almost certainly some memory drift by this point.

[vulnonapix1234]

The Danny Phandom has sucked me back in. So here I go with this little headcanon/au:

Danny smells like a baby ghost, which confuses all his enemies.

Cause they aren't aware that he is a teenager and a really young ghost at the same time.

Most think that he must be a really powerful ghost that plays human and manipulated his parents into thinking he was their son.

(Like, who would guess that the child of ghost hunters is a ghost?)

Then Danielle pops out and they conclude that they attacked a ghost that was caring for his brood.

(Skulker is extremely pissed about that, cause it goes against his morals to hunt fresh parents, as it would leave the babies defenseless)

(Bonus: lunch lady giving unwanted tips on raising a young ghost and box ghost wanting to do play dates with their "kids")

Also, there is a panic outbreak once they realize that:

1. He's basically a ghost infant

2. The infant was cloned to create another infant.

3. They got their asses handed to them by said infant.

4. The infant is their new king

[papiliomame]

Ectoberweek 2023 Day 29: Masquerade

SPOILER FOR A GLITCH IN TIME!

I recently rewatched the endings of the anime "Durarara!!" and I was thinking that so many versions of Danny popped up throughout the years, it is time for a Danno-tower.

I limited myself to 15 versions and a few other AUs sprinkled here and there because 1) this artwork is already long enough and 2) there are so many AUs and different designs I would need much more time to draw them all.

Here is a list of what AUs are shown here in no particular order and if possible where I could manage to pinpoint the origin of the AU:

Human Danny(Canon)

Ghost Danny(Canon)

End of AGIT Dan Phantom ( A Glitch in Time graphic novel)

Ghost King Danny

DCxDP ( I just put Batman in there as a representative for the whole DC cast)

Crypid/Monster Danny

Spider Danno (dannypocalypse)

Full Hazmat Danny (Mask by @in-the-ghost-mode)

Disabled AU ( I think this post by @madametamma made this AU more known in the phandom on tumblr but I personally encountered this AU in Everything was White by @lexosaurus which the release of the first chapter predates the post)

Little Baby Man (@tourettesdog)

Clown Danny (@letswonderspirit)

Coffee Ghost Danny (@typo-art)

Winged Danny(@the-stove-is-on-fire)

Merman Danny (not sure about this one, but my guess it's from the "Mermay" art event which occur on several social media sites?)

Lab rat Danny

Team Halloween (@the-stove-is-on-fire and @healthysharkshealthyocean fic Ghost in the NYC and the comics)

Shared Cujostody AU(@duchi-nesten)

Wes and Kyle Weston(not sure where the origin is but @lexosaurus made a whole dossier about him here, there are also infos how Kyle Weston came to be)

Dani Masters( a variation of this is the Cheese Melt AU by @lilianade-comics)

I hope those are the correct, for everything else I couldn't really find where they originated from.

This idea was original for the "ten years" prompt but after some work I conclude this fits more the "masquerade" prompt, because AUs are kind of a masquerade to the canon.

[dnpg-hiatus-survivor]

the air has shifted. i was able to sleep but still when i awoke my heart was pounding and i can’t breathe. because of… dan and phil.

maybe this doesnt mean anything. maybe im just a crazy phannie (well thats true no matter what happens but still).

however, this has happened to me before. twice. let me tell y’all about those times.

the first time, i want to say was august of 2016 (could be slightly off). i had been watching dan and phil for over a year but i was still pretty new to the phandom as a space. i was at my grandmas house just chilling upstairs when this photo hit the tumblr scene:

and oh. my. god. my stomach dropped. my heart started racing. i was pacing around the room going holy shit holy shit holy shit. this photo was a big deal at the time. it was dan’s first time letting his hair be natural at a m&g or youtube event. and, it was the first time ever we had seen dan wear nail polish.

when i woke up the next morning, i still couldnt breathe. the main thing is that i was surprised how much hold these youtubers had over my heart like jesus christ. but more importantly…

the. air. had. shifted. and i knew it.

this photo, to me, is the beginning of the soft launch era. it was after this that we got the halloween baking monster pops video, which entered our post baking universe. and it was after that we got the first gamingmas. but this photo, was the start of it all. the start of dan and phil tearing down the wall just a little and starting to be more themselves on camera.

the second time, is a bit more obvious of a shift. it was june 2019. the june video had been talked for over a year at this point. we weren’t really sure if it was happening or not. what it was. but we all had… ideas. but oh my goodness, the entire first 13 days of that month. i was just buzzing. i was freaking out. and i didnt know why!! well… i knew why. but surely two youtubers could not make me feel this way for two weeks straight. oh yes they could actually.

when this tweet happened:

holy fuck, i think i shit myself. i felt the air shift. like in real time. i could barely talk because my heart was pounding so fast. i was playing truth bombs with my friends (because yes i am the #1 phannie) when i read the tweet, i dropped my phone and started tearing up whispering “oh my god its happening” over and over again. did they think i was crazy? yep!

but y’all… the. air. had. SHIFTED.

anyway long speech over. what was the point of this. to tell you that my phannie brain is convinced that something is happening. the air has shifted. i know it has. it has before. what does that mean for dan and phil? i don’t know yet! we’re just gonna have to see :))

[danphantom]

alright i bit the bullet and made my own danny phantom server LOL.

this server is curated to MY tastes so not everyone may vibe with it, but feel free to check out the rules and see if youd like to stay or not! you're welcome to just pop in and leave if you don't vibe!

prefacing by saying this is a 16+ server and completely sfw!! it's also not proship-friendly and doesnt allow crossovers such as dpxdc. like i said its mostly curated to what i want in a dp server. but i hope youll consider joining anyway !!

(after i post this im going to sleep for a bit so give me a little bit of time before approving your entry!! right now im the only mod so cut me some slack <3 be niceys)

[stealingyourbones]

Offering a nice set of inked knuckle bones in a satin bag.

Phantom team gets stuck in DC universe indefinitely: Common Phandom (and possibly canon?) tidbit is that the Fenton parents have dropped their home into another dimension temporarily before. So, obviously, they are messing with things again and drop their house in Gotham while Sam and Tucker are staying over. No biggie. Just remember to stay inside when it's time to go back.

But Sam wants the gothic wardrobe updates and Tucker wants the tech. And Danny just wants away from his parents' anti-ghost lectures for a bit. Jazz offers to chaperone the outing as the team "adult" (not really an adult yet but she's trying to be a responsible older sibling) and make sure they get back before the parents return to the lab and potentially trip something to reverse the dimension hop.

Things don't go to plan. Villain attacks, parents heading back to the lab ahead of Jazz's (carefully analyzed and perfectly timed out "No, I do not have a control issue, tucker.") schedule, intercepted by curious vigilantes, general teens losing track of time or any variation/combo situation you can imagine. They did not make it back in time before the Fenton residence popped back out of existence and now they are stranded in Gotham. Even better, they lost contact with Sam's bank account and Tucker's service network when the Fenton house stopped acting like a bridge between dimensions. So now they are relying on what cash they have on hand and what Tucker can hardware hack on the fly until either Danny learns to make portals through dimensions or the parents actually remember their kids got left in the dimension that they may or may not have the space/time coordinates to revisit.

Worlds shittiest reverse home alone: you forgot to bring the kids back with you.

Oh man this could be fascinating to work with. Could you imagine?

Like they temporarily go and see one or two of the Gotham heroes/villains and make an odd first impression. The trio doesn’t think too hard on it. They wont be here ever again so why not cause a little bit of confusion and chaos?

Well sucks to be them because they’re now stuck. What sucks even more? Batman is absolutely trying to find the massive energy surge that randomly occurred in Gotham and who the cause of it was.

Not only do they have to hunker down and hope that their parents will remember to get them. Heck they don’t even know the time difference between their dimensions. They could be moving at a snail pace or super speed compared to their home dimension? With each unknown possibility they think of their hope of getting back home dims more and more.

[whereonceiwasfire]

As someone who grew up with/adjacent to Danny Phantom, and you know, thought it was cool but didn't have my brain chemicially altered by this cartoon until adulthood, I really love keeping my eye on people who are just getting into the Phandom. Cute little "Oh, just started watching Danny Phantom", "Oh, here's fanart for this show I'm getting into!" posts pop up on your feed, and you're sitting there like "heh heh heh...just wait for it."

And, like clockwork (pun intended), you get to see the "Oh. Oh. I get it now" moment, and then we get to add one more member to the cult, erm, *cough* I mean club. I said club.

[theplacewherewipsgotodie]

So I made a wip regarding this post.

I don't know if its good or not considering this is basically the first ever idea I've actually written for this phandom so, constructive criticism would be appreciated, both for this and dialogue cause idk how to write conversations lol.

---------

It wasn’t often that Danny got to rest like this, surrounded by ice and cold in one of the deepest, secluded parts of the Far Frozen. His tail flicked lazily behind him as he rested.

Becoming the Ghost King – more like half king – was not what it was worth. Not that he even wanted to become the Ghost King, it sorta just. Happened. As does most things in his life. If it weren’t for that fruitloop he wouldn’t even be in this mess in the first place.

Becoming the Ghost King and then four weeks later waking up as a dragon was not in his to-do list thank you very much. At least the whole of Amity park was affected and not just him, minimises the chances of it being a personal strike against him.

But whoever made that wish should stub their pinkie toe.

(Weasley Weston sneezed, then screamed out loud as he stubbed his toe.)

Danny stretched, letting out a sigh of contentment (more so just blowing cold air out his nose) as he could hear the bones popping. He then laid back down, ready to recharge, relax and ignore whatever thing that’s happening in the outside world that doesn’t need his immediate attention.

Something is going to ruin this, isn’t it-

“Daniel!” The familiar voice of the other Ghost King’s – the other half – scream reverberates inside the room that Danny decided to hold up in, the area noticeably getting hotter as well.

-aaand there it is.

Danny keeps his head down, not opening his eyes as his tail lashes in the general direction of the phoenix-

“What do you want, Fruit Loop?” Danny’s voice was tired and exasperated, with a bit of aggression mixed in as well. 

-based on how he couldn’t feel a weight at the end of his tail, nor the squawk Vlad would let out if he managed to land a hit, he could say he missed. A pity.

Vlad scoffed, staring down the dragon at the end of his beak as he flew back a bit to avoid his tail, the temperature rising ever so slightly in the face of his irritation.

Luckily, this is the resting grounds of a Ghost King, so it wouldn’t be melting anytime soon. Unless he actually tries, of course. Vlad shuffled in place for a moment, turning the words over in his beak before taking a deep breath.

“Just spit it out already fruit-”

“The Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep is missing.” Predictably Danny did not take that news well, he quickly got up to his full height, his eyes wide open as cold mist leaves his mouth and his tail swishes in agitation.

“WHAT!?” Vlad huffed, “Calm down little badger. Panicking will get us nowhere.” Vlad then turned around, gesturing with his wing for Danny to follow before he quickly left the area, taking off in flight soon after.

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

Hahah here it is, idk how good it actually is, though.

[gilly-moon]

I'm not really asking anything, i just wanted to tell you that your profile popped up in suggested and i was bored, so i checked it out, and it was good, decently interesting, but the minute i saw a picture of jack frost, i SMASHED the follow button because i don't know ANYONE who's in the fandom.

Also, you're in the danny phantom Phandom, which is cool. I am a big fan.

Anyway.

Your art style is really good, and i wanted to tell you that.

Sorry if this is a little weird.

Have a nice day!

Ohgosh thank you and welcome to my blog!!!! The rotg fandom might be little compared to its golden days, but it's still alive when you know where to look!!

I hope you enjoy your stay here ♡ and that you have a lovely day as well!

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Hi! I saw ALW’s Phantom of the Opera live a couple of days ago and I haven’t been able to stop consuming Phantom content ever since, which is why I happened to read your interpretation of Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera, and the post is so well thought out I really felt compelled to send you an ask. It’s so hard to find a good book commentary in which Erik is not depicted as the worst man alive or the sweetest angel who did nothing wrong.. I’ll definitely be going through your tags in the next couple of days!

I hope this doesn’t come off as inappropriate, just wanted to say I absolutely love your take on the character, I don’t usually see interpretations I actually like or agree with!

Have a good day 🫶

nonono this was SUPER cool of you and I really appreciate it! and I'm sorry my tags are a mess and you can't find all my Erik thoughts in one place.

I find the current dominant fanon on poto to be...frustrating. It's a bunch of people engaging in the most shallow, deliberately bad faith reading, rehashing the same tired ass takes. I'm off reddit now but for a few months there I had a lovely time on the poto subreddit, with, like, one good reddit friend who was, like me, an adult age fan of gothic literature in general, and we were constantly batting theories back and forth for why the culture is like this--and why only the English speaking portion of an international sensation is like this. We ultimately concluded that some people are just saying shit for the clout, but also the show brings out a TON of repression in people. We are convinced that some of the loudest, most irritating, most condemning voices are the ones also reading absolute filth on a03.

Some people are attracted to Erik and cannot handle the reality of that. It's easier to not admit you like something you "shouldn't," and pop culture has not come nearly as far in this way as it thinks it has. There's a lot of internalized hang ups and even shame about liking something that is, on some level, portrayed as potentially dangerous. Something powerful. Some people are still hung up on power = bad, lust after someone powerful in whatever way as indistinguishable from lust for power = bad.

And some other people are genuinely repulsed by the fact that Erik is canonically physically ugly, and they can't live with the realization that they're that shallow. Therefore: Erik must just be a fuckin loser lol and it's all his fault. And this is where some frustrating distortions of Christine's character happen, imo. The contemporary audience can't handle a female character who is anything but free of judgement. Christine is a perfect angel, a good girl, therefore any hesitation about Erik means that EVERYTHING IS HIS FAULT EVER.

But it's also frustrating, too, like you say, when Erik is seen as a perfect little blorbo who's done nothing wrong in his life. The point of it all, imo, the actual point of gothic horror et all assorted genres, is that the suffering is real and it matters and the actions can still be terrible. The character can be both a monster and a martyr.

And maybe it's just that those ideas are too complex for everyone to hold at once. Erik is absolutely a victim and he's not WRONG about how his face is the problem, and of course that would make anyone bitter. But Erik just as absolutely does some terrible things. It's all very understandable, imo--as long as the audience knows that understandable doesn't automatically mean justifiable.

And he's just such a powerful figure, in and out of his story, and also tragic and so Romantic and so romantic, and it drives me crazy that people reduce him to textbook normal male loser.

Like, don't apply your real life filters to fiction, you guys! Erik is not a normal guy! He's brilliant! He's different! That's why there's such fun tension in story--he's got a lot to offer; it's just also very very complicated.

AND THE MOST FRUSTRATING PART IS THAT IT WASN'T ALWAYS LIKE THIS. The stuff that the phandom seems to think is essential and obvious is not essential nor obvious! Broadway carried the show for decades on the strength of mostly women who were mostly obsessed with the Phantom! That's just the reality of it all.

Or, no. The MOST frustrating part is how some people accuse you of internalized misogyny for being sympathetic to Erik. As if reducing all media to the standard of "does the female character choose the Good Husband?" isn't wildly patronizing.

anyway, preaching to the choir, etc...

getting back to important things, CONGRATS ON SEEING IT LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME! It's such an experience and so deliciously definitive. Do you mind me asking who you saw? I love looking up new cast members and hearing their takes and quirks.

[itskenwaybitch]

h e l l o ! ~ ★

→ i’m kennedy (or skye, or wolf, or ken, or...whatever) nice to meet you!

→ 20. she/they. lesbian who would make a very special exception for a choice few fictional men. furry + suiter. rabid fangirl of various things. horse girl. undergad psychology student. self-shipper (i'm totally okay with sharing! in fact PLEASE TALK TO ME if we have an f/o in common!!!!). shitpost curator.

→ my one and only blog for any and all interests. i can't run multiple blogs, i don't have the energy or brain capacity for that. :) 👍

→ character anons + roleplay blogs welcome!!!

→ tone indicators are appreciated!

→ minors are REQUIRED to block my nsfw tag: #˚✧nsfw

→ DNI: MINORS UNDER 16. PEDOS. ZOOS. BIGOTS. NAZIS. CONSERVATIVES. JUST ANY GENERAL HATEFUL HUMAN BEING.

→ tag directory + interests + f/os under the cut!

→ carrd

t a g s ~ ★

→ fair warning: i have a tag for EVERYTHING!! i feel like they are self-explanatory for the most part, but if you're confused, come here for a reference! :3 i also add new tags a lot so don't be surprised to see things pop up here.

#˚✧denkeeping - any info posts like this. masterlist. about me. etc.

#˚✧brainrot - rambles + infodumping.

#˚✧packtalk - sayin stuff

#˚✧resources - anything that other people made that i use! post templates, dividers, decorations, etc.

#˚✧titanposting - attack on titan stuff.

#˚✧asscreed - assassin’s creed stuff.

#˚✧watcherihardlyknowher - watcher stuff.

#˚✧nomourners - grishaverse stuff

#˚✧dnp - dan and phil stuff

#˚✧baldgate - baldur's gate stuff

#˚✧delusion - self-insert/self-ship stuff. block if you cringe. this is my silly little blog. let me be cringe and delusional in peace.

#˚✧mailtime! - asks. anons, friends, and character anons will get their own tag with their name/emoji in front. ex: jean mail time!

#˚✧furryshit - i feel like this needs no explanation.

#˚✧skye’sshippingco. - ship stuff.

#˚✧lolz - memes

#˚✧🐺🩷{insert character name here} - a way to better organize posts dedicated to my faves.

#˚✧nsfw - self explanatory

#˚✧🩷{person} - interactions with friendos!

#˚✧tagthings - challenges/prompts/stuff you guys tag me in :p

#˚✧g(r)eek - anything ancient greece or greek mythology related

loves/interests ~ ★

→ attack on titan

→ alternative music [pierce the veil, idkhow, fall out boy, maneskin, system of a down, to name a few]

→ assassin's creed

→ six of crows

→ red dead redemption 2

→ baldur's gate 3

→ various horse games (Kenway on HI3 + Kendra Ponyheart on SSO)

→ the nightmare before christmas. (fuck tim burton tho)

→ phandom

→ watcher/buzzfeed unsolved

→ equestrian sports and anything horse related. i ride hunters/equitation!

→ wolves

→ the furry fandom (SFW ONLY PLS)

→ greek mythology

→ psychology, sociology, anthropology, all the -ologies...

→ mushrooms, frogs, nature-y cottage core vibes, ya know

→ shitposting

f / o s ~ ★

→ ratonhnhaké:ton/connor kenway - assassin's creed III

→ kassandra - assassin's creed odyssey

→ jean kirschtein (season 4 specifically) - attack on titan

→ more to come im sure lol. me and my simp ass.

[paenling]

a fort of lovers’ teeth

I was chosen as a backup gifter for the Phandom Holiday Truce! This is a gift for @bubblegumbeech​ :)

[Ao3 Link]

Word Count:  9114 Warnings: Horror elements, supernatural violence, some scary imagery

At the moment Star looked up, several things happened at once. The pleasant autumn evening turned bitter, raising a ripple of gooseflesh on her bare arms. Her skin crawled; an almost-touch slid down her spine, prickling between her shoulders. The wind ran its claws through her hair. A strange pressure stole the air from her lungs.

And Paulina was gone.

(Full text below the cut!)

Paulie was waiting for Star when she got off work at the mall. They walked shoulder to shoulder on the way out to the parking lot, chatting idly as they went. Star wrestled with her bike lock in the pink light of the setting sun, but basked a little in the warm rise and fall of her girlfriend’s voice.

“It’s not too late for dinner,” said Paulina beside her, “if you’re up for it. We can also pick it up and eat at your place if you’d rather be in your pajamas.”

Star shot off a quick text to her parents to let them know she was with Paulina, then bent to unzip her bag and put the lock away. “No, no, I don’t mind sitting down. It’s been way too long since we went out,” she replied. “Did you still want to go to that new—” 

At the moment Star looked up, several things happened at once. The pleasant autumn evening turned bitter, raising a ripple of gooseflesh on her bare arms. Her skin crawled; an almost-touch slid down her spine, prickling between her shoulders. The wind ran its claws through her hair. A strange pressure stole the air from her lungs.

And Paulina was gone.

Star leapt to her feet, not caring that her bike fell to the pavement with a clatter. She sucked in a shaky breath and cast about, only to find the lot was empty. No people, no cars. The nearest street lamp guttered but didn’t go out. Its light was cold and dim, easily outstripped by the fullness of the moon. She looked back down. Paulina’s pink bike was still leaned halfway up against the rack, lock unfastened and swinging limply, as though it had been dropped. As though the hands touching it had simply vanished.

A sickening chill washed over her and tears pricked at Star’s eyes, but she steeled herself. This was Amity Park, after all. Weird things happened all the time here. Buildings and vehicles tended to get damaged or destroyed, and that was scary, but almost nobody ever actually got hurt, she tried to reassure herself. It didn’t work; this felt different. 

Ghosts wanted attention from the living, but Paulie had vanished without a sound. Something was wrong.

The street light flickered a little more insistently, dimming almost to nothing before popping back to its expected brightness as though nothing had been wrong with it. The next lamp started to dim and flash, then the next, then another—a quickening trail, leading away from the mall. Whatever had taken Paulina was moving.

Star fought her trembling limbs to right her bike and mount it. As she gave chase, the flickering lights began to move faster. The icy air burned in her lungs, but she stood on her pedals and pumped her legs regardless. What she was going to do when she caught up to the thing, Star wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to keep up with it—no one would know where Paulina had gone if she didn’t. 

When the distance between them finally threatened to close, the invisible ghost leapt ahead of her with a burst of energy and a bang like a gunshot. The bulb over her head exploded. Star shouted and swerved to avoid a rain of shattered glass, but her front tire slipped off the curb. 

Her bike slid out from under her, the top tube crashing between her legs in a starburst of eye-watering pain. The bike tipped over and Star kept going forward without it, skinning her chin and forearms on the asphalt as she went.

It took untold ages for her to come to a stop, and even longer for the world to quit spinning around her. Her racing heart screamed with urgency, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate, and it was all she could do to grit her teeth until her body finally forgave her. Breathless and swearing, Star rolled onto her back. She propped herself up and craned her neck, squinting into the row of street lights ahead of her. 

None of them so much as winked. Star let herself collapse onto her back with a strangled sob. She’d lost them. 

What could she do? Call the Fentons? She sat up again and fumbled through her pockets for her phone, but sometime between leaving the mall and getting here it had gone from half-full to entirely dead. The lights, the chill—the ghost must have sucked the power out. What now? She swore and glanced over to her bike, sprawled out on its side like roadkill. 

Her phone was out, but she could go to Fentonworks and get help directly, she decided. As much as the crash had hurt, nothing was broken, and her bike didn’t look seriously damaged. She could ride again. That could work. She started to get up, but for the second time that evening the air was stolen from her lungs.

A sudden absence appeared in the space beside her, a frigid photonegative of human presence. It rippled into the visible spectrum, looming and backlit by unearthly green light. A ghost.

She shrieked and scrambled back, groping for something to defend herself with. Her fingers closed on a decent-sized shard of glass, thick and sharp. Star brandished it in front of her even as it cut into her palms, heart thundering in her ears. Not that it would do anything against something already dead, she thought bitterly. Oh—she was going to die, wasn’t she?

“Star?” The voice, despite its hair-raising harmonies of electric discharge and radio static, was familiar enough to punch the fight right out of her—or most of it, anyway. “Are you okay?” 

His pale irises left afterimages like radium floodlights, tracking her with concern, or at least interest. Cast in the vibrating shadow of his own ghostly aura, his downturned mouth glowed in the dark as though under blacklight. It somehow managed to bare just as many teeth as his usual Cheshire grin. Despite the uncommon expression on his face, there was no mistaking him.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He lurched into her space and pulled the glass from her hands—intangibly through her hands, she realized after a beat, because they were still clenched into red-streaked fists. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she said. She knew she was a mess, but she had to try.

Phantom leaned in far too close for comfort. He huffed icy breath in her face, anxious green tongue flicking out past his lips. His attention lingered conspicuously on the stains between her aching fingers. “You’re bleeding. Go home and get that looked at, there’s—”

“A ghost? I know.” She set her jaw and pointed past the broken street lights. “I think it went that way, and I’m coming with you.”

Phantom narrowed his eyes and backed off, albeit unhappily. “Are you crazy?” He hissed, lips peeled back to reveal vibrant green gums and fangs as long as her fingers. “No way! This ghost is new. I don’t know what they want or how they’ll take it when I tell them ‘no.’ Not risking it.”

Star felt the need to point out that, for all the people in Amity Park who loved their resident Phantom to bits and trusted him implicitly, they always did so from a very safe distance.

Even if she’d long since outgrown that unfortunate crush, maybe it said something about Paulina’s dubious attraction to men that this was the only guy she'd ever really been into—ambiguously posthuman nightmare fuel with far more teeth than sense. In blurry photos and distorted phone footage it was easy to insert the image of a dashing white-haired youth, just an upstanding guy with ghost powers, but in person it was very clear he was anything but. 

Star would be lying if she said she was never glad to have him around, but she held fast to her reservations. Someone had to. Right then and there, close enough to count his white eyelashes in the dark, she wasn’t especially willing to change that.

Ordinarily, she’d cut her losses and leave it at that. But for Paulina? Star was willing to test her luck.

“Listen,” she insisted. “I’m not asking. I’m coming with you. That thing has—it has Paulina! And I’m not leaving her behind, especially if it’s as dangerous as you say.”

All at once, Phantom’s aura of vague menace sharpened to a threatening point. Faint green sparks arced over his narrow shoulders. At first Star flinched, but as it settled she could tell by feeling alone that his anger was no longer directed at her. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still lash out, though—he was still a ghost. Unpredictable, erratic, irrational.

“They took a hostage?” he breathed. The static beneath his voice crackled louder. He sounded enough like a Geiger counter for Star to edge away on principle.

Still, she nodded. “Please, Phantom. I need to know she’s okay.”

She hadn’t expected her begging to work, but the ghost softened immediately. His long ears drooped just the barest bit, and his lips relaxed to hide his teeth. “Dammit. Fine.”

“Really?” 

“You think we have time to argue? C’mon!”

He made a low sound like an idling motorcycle and wrapped his long black tail around her waist. Reflexively, Star threw out a hand to brace herself against him and immediately recoiled, shivering and revulsed. He was impossibly smooth to the touch and so cold beneath her palm he almost felt wet. She wiped her hand on her shirt to try and escape the sensation of slime between her fingers, but nothing came off.

“Jeez, I showered this morning,” Phantom quipped, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. He gently tightened his tail under her armpits and hoisted her to her feet. Each motion was delicate, but Star couldn’t help the jump of her heart, the fear of being constricted. As soon as her legs were under her, thankfully, he withdrew and offered up his hand instead.

“Can you track them down?” Star asked. She hooked her arm around his elbow with an ill-repressed shudder.

“Sure can,” he chirped, but that false cheer did little to disguise the tautness in his grip. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have things like tendons or bones, but they also weren’t supposed to exist, and Star was acutely aware of his tense bicep trembling against the crook of her arm. He seemed just as nervous as she was.

A prickling cold rippled over Star and she couldn’t keep from yelping. Her stomach swooped at the realization that gravity no longer applied to them, then dropped out of her entirely as the street fell away. She clung to Phantom despite herself, aching wherever his icy flesh touched her skin. Rooftops blurred below them and whatever time they’d wasted bickering was easily made up.

Almost as soon as they passed out of town limits Phantom pivoted. He exhaled a frigid plume of blue vapor, breath rattling, and turned sharply perpendicular to the highway.

“Down there?” Star asked. “In the woods?”

He answered her with static. It was something like garbled radio chatter that resolved only vaguely into words she understood. “Yeah. Getting close now. Don’t be scared.”

Was she afraid? Despite all the ways Phantom unsettled her, she found herself feeling relatively safe in his presence. He was dangerous, but not to her, at least not then. Whether he was capable of real altruism or not really didn’t matter, even if the Drs. Fenton insisted otherwise. Star didn’t care if he was secretly selfish as long as he kept people safe when it came down to the wire—and he did, so she wasn’t really worried for herself.

Wind groaned through the browning leaves, and branches reached towards them like talons as they descended into a bank of fog. She was worried, though.

Taking hostages didn’t work if there was nobody to ransom with. That it stole her in relative secret meant this ghost wanted something with Paulina, and that terrified Star. It hadn’t been long since she’d been taken, less than ten minutes at most, but anyone from Amity Park could tell you just how fast a motivated ghost could work. Dread swelled in her heart at the thought of what might have already happened in that short time—what she might discover when Paulina was finally found.

Star drew her free arm up around herself, shivering in the chill. 

She startled when Phantom shifted without warning to hold her against his breastbone instead of his side. His response was immediate: the aural static that followed him rippled, white noise giving way to something more purposeful, a steady, rhythmic thrum like the purr of a big cat. He put both long-fingered hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently, stroking with his thumbs. Star realized, between the touch and the vibration, that he was trying to soothe her.

“She’s probably not hurt,” Phantom said more clearly, though his echoing voice was still an octave lower than usual, warped strangely around the oscillating rumble in his chest. “I don’t smell any blood.” 

It was meant as a reassurance, clearly, but Star’s brain just stuck on the fact that he could.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Alright.”

It was undoubtedly a night for ghosts. Under the cover of the trees the pale moonlight only hit the ground in patches. Not sure what she was landing on, Star wobbled in the dark when she was lowered to the ground. Everything else was cast in deep purple shadows that invented ominous silhouettes from the bracken and moss. 

Phantom’s tail turned to legs when he touched down in front of her, heavy white boots perfectly soundless even as Star snapped twigs and rustled through the leaf litter. The length of his tail had obscured his true height while they were flying, so she was surprised and a little disturbed to realize he was shorter than her. He didn’t look back but kept cocking his head, tipping one pointed ear or the other towards her to verify her presence. Then they walked in silence. 

A little while seemed to stretch on forever until Phantom stopped short. He paused, shivered, and huffed out a billowing puff of blue vapor. Star was too late to hold her breath before she walked right into the cloud—and into Phantom’s back. Alarmed, she clapped her hands over her mouth and stumbled away, unwilling to breathe it in and risk making any more noise.

He whirled, hands raised as though to placate her. “Hey, shh! You’re fine. It’s just my ghost sense, alright? Means we’re getting warmer.”

She took a tiny sip of air. It tingled and chilled her throat like menthol, but otherwise didn’t bother her, so Star allowed herself a bigger breath. “Sorry.”

Phantom just shrugged. Though green sparks leapt over the ridge of his spine and danced between the white spikes of his hair, which stood on end like raised hackles, he didn’t lash out.

Instead, he sucked the lingering blue mist in through his mouth and swished it around, then blew it back out of his nose. She wasn’t sure if he was smelling, tasting, or employing some entirely different ghost-exclusive sense for which Star had no analogue—but either way it seemed to tell him something, because he nodded to himself and stalked ahead of her with newfound certainty.

He led her to a clearing under a sheer rock face that was overgrown with moss—and sheltered beneath it, the narrow entrance to a cave. Already claustrophobic at the thought of it, Star shuddered.

“Is Paulina in there?”

“Pretty sure,” he replied through another puff of icy mist. “The other ghost totally reeks, so I can’t sense her real well—but she’s definitely close.”

“Okay. Do you—” she swallowed. “Do you have a plan?”

“Not a great one,” he admitted, “but yeah. I’m gonna be loud, go off on ‘em for crashing my haunt. Once the fighting starts, I’ll need you to grab Paulina and book it back to town while we’re busy.” He paused to look over his shoulder, lambent eyes meeting hers with eerie intensity. “Can you do that, Star?”

Star nodded. “I… think so.”

“If you’re not sure where to run,” he added, “‘away’ is a good place to start. Worst case scenario I’ll find you guys after and take you back myself.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

At his nod she darted out from the cover of the trees and up to the mouth of the cave. Her heart sank at just how much narrower it was than it’d looked from afar. Assuming she could fit in at all, she’d have to shimmy sideways into the fissure.

“Hello? Is somebody out there? Hey! ¡Ayúdame!”

“Paulie!” Star cried. “Paulie, it’s me!”

Before she could answer Phantom shot past her, phasing intangibly into the dark crawlspace. Then, just as suddenly, he burst out again—this time with Paulina under his arm. He shoved her unceremoniously into Star’s arms and darted off without another word, but she found herself far too relieved to be bothered by his roughness.

“Paulie,” Star breathed, stroking her girlfriend’s tangled hair with both hands and swiping mud from her cheeks. “Paulina, what happened?”

“I don’t know!” She began, but didn’t finish. Her breath hitched painfully in her throat, escaping as an airy little whimper. Star turned around.

Paulina’s kidnapper was shrunken and blue-skinned, so miserably corpse-like that Phantom’s gaunt angles and radioactive pallor seemed positively robust by comparison. It hung belly-up and motionless in the air, disoriented for only a moment before its face twisted in rage. Righting itself, it lurched towards them, webbed hands thrust forward and groping.

Star shrieked and wrapped her arms around Paulina, striving in vain to shield the taller girl with her body. The moment hung suspended. Every shuddering breath carried weight like rolling thunder, a backdrop to the rapid drumbeat of her heart in her throat, hummingbird-fast like it yearned to escape her entirely. She didn’t want to die.

Then the moment collapsed. Claws swiped close enough that she could feel the disturbed air against her face, but it didn’t get the chance to try again—Phantom lunged in from the side and shoved the monster away.

The ghosts tumbled through the air in a snarling tangle of limbs before breaking apart to face one another. They howled and chattered in that uncanny language of the dead, teeth bared and aurae strobing against the night. 

Phantom’s thunderous aura of dielectric puncture and possessive indignation crashed against a visceral impression of rushing water, yawning depths too far down to see the sun. A roiling wave of alien emptiness nearly bowled Star over, making her heart pound and temples throb with pressure. She knew enough to realize the feeling wasn’t her own, but couldn't tell which ghost it had come from.

“I’m scared,” Paulina gasped, and Star remembered herself.

“We’re okay,” Star assured and kissed her sweaty forehead. Together they stumbled into the sparse cover of the trees, where she rushed to check for injuries. The sky above rumbled with thunder, and some first tentative drops of rain began to patter through the leaves. “Listen, Paulie, we’ve gotta go. They won’t stay distracted forever. Are you hurt?”

“Ah, a little,” said Paulina, voice trembling. “My ankle—I think I twisted it. But I’m—I’m okay, I think.” Her breath hitched and she slumped further. “I don’t know.”

Star looked down and her blood ran cold. Paulina’s left ankle had started to swell, definitely sprained if not broken. Already knowing the answer, she asked, “How far can you walk?”

“I’m sorry—I don’t know.” Her lip wobbled and a sob escaped her. “A little, maybe. Not far.”

Star just nodded mutely. There was no way she could carry Paulina all the way back to town by herself—but if she gauged where the fight was going, or even made a good guess, they could hobble the other way. Bit by bit would be better than nothing. That would be enough, she decided. It had to be enough. 

Adrenaline sang in her veins. She scrambled to get her shoulder properly under Paulina’s arm and hauled her to her feet, wincing at her stifled cries.

Even without the complication of injury, getting out of there was easier said than done. Like watching a car crash, she struggled to pull her gaze away from the fight. Just as much as a physical brawl, it was also a deafening psychic screaming match—one so horribly overwhelming that Star found herself almost mesmerized.

Daytime ghost battles were convincingly civil, all closed-fist martial arts and comic book one-liners. One could be forgiven for feeling protected when the town mascot was cracking puns. 

Under the cover of night, though? The rain was coming down harder now, and it was already near-impossible to tell just what the ghosts were doing through the thickening fog. Star still knew where they were, though—it felt like she could track them by ill intent alone. It really was like a horror movie.

The newcomer radiated a deeply wounded, covetous sort of hate that made Star suspect it was only recently dead and very, very mad about it. Phantom’s familiar protectiveness, on the other hand, was all tangled up with a frankly concerning sense of raw appetite so uncharacteristically virulent she nearly forgot that he was the one helping her. 

If she'd arrived from the outside, not knowing who was who, Star honestly wouldn’t have been able to say which ghost was “good.” 

Maybe it was the urgency of an injured human so nearby or an unknown enemy more so than the dark, but they fought like feral cats, all teeth and claws. It was expected of the rampaging newcomer, but Phantom was just as bad, and that shocked her more than she liked to admit. Star hadn’t even realized that Phantom had claws until he was lunging to swipe them at the other ghost’s belly, blue mist billowing from his unhinged jaw.

Lightning illuminated the fight in flashes. The kidnapper swung with clumsy, open-handed strikes, but there was wrathful power in its arms, each as thick around as Phantom’s waifish body. An unfamiliar voice howled over the thunder, bubbling and shrill like a drowning scream. Phantom trilled and darted out of reach, visibly flagging even at a distance.

It only took one bad dodge for the fight to turn around. He buckled after only a handful of hits, then writhed when the kidnapper tore at his hair with one hand—it wrapped the other around his neck. 

Star’s fear that he’d be strangled to death was assuaged only when the kidnapper wound up and threw him. Thunder boomed overhead. Paulina screamed in her ear when he slammed into the clearing where the girls had been only a minute before.

Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but Phantom heaved. Greenish froth gathered at the downturned corners of his mouth. Looking rabid, he arched and spat ectoplasm, coughing wetly as he peeled himself out of a shallow crater in the mud. Battle-frenzy was obvious in his eyes.

Afraid that she’d somehow set him off if she so much as twitched, Star just froze. He was protecting them, he wouldn’t hurt him, he was helping—but Star couldn’t move. Paulina shook her shoulder, begging her to snap out of it, but Phantom had already seen them from across the clearing.

“Hey, what are you still doing here?!” He feigned a lunge and snapped his green-stained teeth for emphasis. “Get going!”

Any further reprimand was cut off when the other ghost appeared behind him. It grabbed Phantom by the ankle and yanked him back, dragging him on his belly through the mud and the leaves. He slid limply along, still staring her down with open desperation.

“Star!” Paulina cried. “You heard him!”

Her body finally began to move, but Star couldn’t stop Staring. Just when she was starting to worry he wouldn’t fight back, Phantom lurched up and twisted to throw an absolutely vicious punch. The blow snapped his enemy’s head sideways with a sickening crack. Glow guttering, it dropped like a stone, but Phantom wasn’t done. He dove after it.

That retaliatory aggression chased the interloper away from the hillside far better than anything else he’d done so far, and Star knew there would be no better window of opportunity.

“Sorry,” she gasped, and surged forward, carrying as much of Paulina’s weight as she could bear. 

Star was no slouch, and she had walked the woods before, but this was far beyond hiking trails. Between the mud sucking at their shoes and dead leaves made slippery by the rain, even the flatter sections proved to be nightmarish. The pair of them groped and stumbled through the dark, tripping on roots and sinking into the wet soil. Once their adrenaline-fueled scramble had finally taken them as far as it could, they collapsed together in a heap. 

After a moment to catch breath they crawled to take some meager shelter from the weather. Curled up and shivering beneath a looming black tree trunk, they held each other for a while. 

“Think you can try walking again?” Star eventually asked over the drone of the rain. A flash of greenish light flickered through the trees.

Paulina grimaced. “I don’t think so. It’s too slippery. Besides, where would we go? Do you know the way back to town?”

She shook her head. “Not even if it was light out.” A pause. Thunder crashed overhead. “We could use GPS. Do you have your phone with you? Mine died.”

“No, sorry. I think I dropped it in the parking lot or somewhere.”

“That’s okay. Probably no service now anyway,” Star said. She swallowed hard. “I think… We might just need to wait until somebody comes looking for us.”

“Don’t worry, cariña. The ghost boy will save us,” Paulina assured, despite everything. “I know he will.”

How can you possibly be so confident in that? Star didn’t ask. “I really hope so,” she said instead, hoping her voice seemed to tremble more from the cold than from her nerves. Clearly unfooled, Paulina leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

Of the two of them, only Paulina had a jacket, so they each took a sleeve and pressed together beneath it to try and keep dry. Mumbling apologies and comforts alike, Star just rubbed Paulina’s arm in hopes of warming her up. Paulina ran her trembling fingers through Star’s wet hair, flinching into her whenever a distant shriek reminded them of the vicious fight still raging dangerously nearby.

Then it went silent.

Long minutes passed, measured only by the distant roll of thunder. The trees groaned in the wind, and the time grew impossible to tell once the moon slipped behind the clouds. It was still pouring when Phantom eventually came to find them. 

Diffused by the fog, the glow of his eyes bobbed unsteadily through the trees. Then came a weaker smear of diluted green from his dripping nose. Pale hair stood out next from the dark as he approached, surprisingly long over his face with its usual volume plastered down by the rainwater. Only about ten feet away did his silhouette finally resolve, revealing his whole front side caked with mud and leaves from being dragged across the ground. With his aura so dim he looked almost like a teen their age, miserable and shivering.

“Phantom!” Paulina cried. She yanked on Star’s arm as if to say I told you so. “There you are! Did you win?”

Nevermind his busted nose, he was limping badly enough to crack twigs on the way over. Nothing had dripped below his knee yet, but luminous ectoplasm beaded along a line on his trembling thigh, on the same side as Paulina’s sprained ankle.

“Yeah,” he croaked, wiping green blood from his lips with the back of his glove. “You okay?”

“We’re good now that you’re here,” exclaimed Paulina. It was made considerably less convincing by how heavily she leaned on Star as they stood up, and Phantom frowned down at her bad leg.

 “Her ankle is messed up,” Star supplied. “I think maybe sprained.”

Phantom scowled. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. If I’d been faster you wouldn’t’ve gotten hurt like that… None of this would’ve happened.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Paulina assured. “Trust me, ghost boy, I’ve gotten worse from cheerleading. It’ll heal. But I’ve got to know, do you know why that thing went after us? Why it took me?”

“Honestly?” Clearly searching for words, Phantom stalled. When he hummed to fill the silence his voice came as an otherworldly buzz that made Star’s neck prickle. “Well… We, uh—I wasn’t really in a great place to ask, but I’m pretty sure you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So the good news is you weren't targeted, I don’t think.” He hesitated, voice tapering to a vaguely electronic crackle as he trailed off. “So yeah.”

“The bad news?” Star prompted.

“Just that we can’t know for sure, I guess? So I’d keep my eyes peeled if I were you, and maybe think about getting your hands on a lipstick laser or a specter-deflector or something. Just in case.”

Paulina frowned at that. “But we’ll be okay, right?”

“Only after you get that looked at,” said Phantom, jerking his chin to her raised leg.

With that he took a hesitant step closer, reaching for each of them with blunt-fingered hands. Clearly unused to such familiar touch, his cheeks flushed deeply green when Paulina collapsed readily against his arm.

But, more importantly, Star eyed his injuries warily. She couldn’t tell if the sluggishly-bleeding cut was deep, but it looked long and ragged enough that he’d probably need stitches. With that in mind, it seemed prudent to point out that, “You’re pretty hurt yourself. Can you carry us both safely?”

Immediately sobering, Phantom straightened up and nodded. “I’m… fine,” he replied, a lie so obvious that even he cringed. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, some kind of nervous tic, and amended, “Fine enough. Not gonna drop you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Of course not,” said Paulina. “Let’s get out of here.”

He frowned, but reoffered his unoccupied arm. Star hesitated—only for a fraction of a moment, but it was more than enough. The ghost stared at her half-raised hand like she’d just slapped him, cloudy green eyes twitching in their sockets as he scrutinized her. Star averted her gaze.

“Oh,” he eventually said, a little dumbly. “I scared you too, didn’t I?” He shook his head and muttered, “What am I saying? That’s stupid. I know I did.”

“Yeah,” admitted Star. Phantom withdrew his arm. “You did.”

“The other ghost was way scarier,” Paulina declared with finality, elbow pressed pointedly into Star’s ribs. 

Star took the cue to offer her arm instead. Phantom blinked slowly, head cocked and mouth parted with apparent disbelief. After a moment he reached out and Star held her ground, letting him close his frigid fingers gently around her wrist. The fine blonde hairs on her forearm stood on end and her skin immediately tingled with icy pins and needles. 

Phantom just shook his head, shrugged helplessly, and finally kicked off the ground. His legs dissolved into a misty tail as they took to the air, rippling behind them like a long black ribbon.

Paulina let out a squeal of delight as the ground retreated from beneath them. Despite everything it was no doubt a dream come true, and the smile she sent over Phantom's shoulder was equal parts relieved, giddy, and reassuring. Star couldn't tell if it was because of the extra passenger or the fact that he no longer had an urgent pursuit to motivate him, but he flew considerably slower on the return journey than he had when they’d left.

Eventually, they slowed and banked down into the parking lot behind Amity Park General. 

It had grown late enough that only a handful of cars dotted the near-empty lot, their shells shiny in the rain like so many sleeping beetles clustered together on the wet pavement. Most of them occupied employee spaces, so there’d be plenty of people there to take care of them in the clinic even though the day staff were out, but the hospital was still eerie and liminal in the quiet of the night.

Phantom lowered the girls delicately to the ground maybe fifty feet from the leeringly red URGENT CARE signage that marked the entrance to the hospital. Immediately boneless on touching solid pavement, Star swayed a little before regaining her bearings, and winced in sympathy when Paulina hopped awkwardly to avoid putting weight on her bad ankle.

The ghost held himself strangely, palms to the ground while his tail curled close to his body. “Odds are nothing will happen,” he said in lieu of goodbye, “but if you feel like something’s even a little bit weird, you should go see the Fentons right aw—”

Paulina bristled, leg twitching like she wanted to stomp but thought better of it. “Seriously? But they hate you!”

Just like that, his expression of big-eyed wariness closed off into something far colder. “…Danny doesn't.”

“No, he’s just terrified of you,” she scoffed. “Like that’s so much better.”

Phantom’s dim glow flickered, eyes blazing with radioactive threat. He frowned, gaze drifting to land on Star. His greenish tongue flickered out between his teeth and she knew immediately that he was doing that thing again, scenting for blood—or sensing her fear. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, voice brittle. “You shouldn't have had to see me like that. I know better—I’m supposed to be better, but I—I got so worked up that I totally forgot about making you guys feel safe.”

“You helped us,” Star argued without much conviction. “It’s fine.”

He worked his jaw and his wet hair rippled as though gravity had faltered around him, but held his tongue. “I guess. It doesn’t matter. Just go to Danny. He’ll help you, alright?” 

Neither Paulina nor Star got their chance to argue—with a final nod he retreated backwards into the treeline and flickered out of view. The background hum of his aura faded more slowly, but once it was gone the air immediately grew less bitterly cold, the rain less harsh, and Star felt a pressure lift from her lungs that she hadn’t even realized was there.

Exhaustion washed over her without warning, and she nearly buckled beneath even Paulina’s sparing weight. By that point the last of the adrenaline had bled out of her, leaving her feeling hollow and spent. Absently, she supposed she must finally be crashing. It was about time.

“I’m okay,” promised Star even as her knees knocked together. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

Paulina nodded. “The ER’s right there. I can walk to the door just fine,” she said with a grimace. “Don’t worry about me.”

Star knew better than to push it. She allowed herself to be comforted by her girlfriend's gentle hand on her shoulder, each leaning into the other for support as they shuffled under the awning and into the clinic. Their wet shoes squeaked loudly against the linoleum floor, water dripping off the ends of Star's hair while Paulina's flats left muddy smears behind them where she dragged her bad foot.

Paulina slumped onto the first available seat she spotted as soon as they passed through the automatic doors, wincing as she sat down with a groan. While her girlfriend melted wearily into the cheap plastic waiting room chair, Star approached the reception desk.

"Hi," she said dazedly. Her voice sounded strange to her without the drone of the rain as a backdrop, weak and scratchy as if she'd been gargling glass. 

What was she supposed to do? Her mental image of emergency rooms almost always involved wailing sirens and nurses swarming around people on gurneys about to die, not two beat-up kids just… walking in all by themselves. 

Thankfully the man behind the desk seemed more than willing to pick up the slack. He hesitated for hardly a beat before his lined face softened just enough that Star felt marginally more comfortable. 

“Hi there, sweetie. I’ll need some information from you, alright? Can I have your name?”

“Oh, it’s not for me. I’m tired and kinda scraped up, but I’ll be okay. She—” Star paused to turn around and point back towards Paulina. “She’s the one who needs a doctor.”

He raised a brow and typed something into his computer. “Alright, we’ll need her information. Can she come up to the front?”

Could she? Probably, but Star wasn’t going to make her. To that end, Star ferried all the questions, answers, and documents between her and the desk so Paulina wouldn’t have to walk too much on her bad leg. The receptionist went on to request her ID, then asked for her mailing address, insurance, and the name of her primary care doctor. Her ID and insurance card were still in her bag at the mall, so she could only shrug and offer Mr. Sanchez’s phone number instead, which was thankfully accepted at least as a stopgap. 

Only after all that did the man finally ask, “And could you please confirm the reason for your urgent care visit?”

“Sprained ankle. We want to make sure it’s not broken.”

Once everything was done, the man behind the counter offered Star a half-hearted smile. “Alright, then just sit tight for a minute and we’ll have someone to look at you soon.”

With that Star shuffled to collapse into the seat beside Paulina, who sighed and leaned over so their shoulders could touch. Within moments Star’s eyelids began to grow heavy, head lolling against Paulina’s, but her nerves were shot far too badly for sleep.

Her thoughts were magnetized to the memory of Phantom’s face when he realized how he’d scared her. Wide-eyed and wounded, he’d looked—well, he’d looked something close to devastated. It left a sour taste in her mouth. Even before they’d started dating, she and Paulina used to fight about him, whether he was good or bad.

Even if ectoscience as a field was rife with bias, Star had decided that the Fentons were sometimes right about some things. Namely, that ecto-entities were unpredictable, and Phantom was no exception. As far as ghosts went he had immense restraint, and she didn’t think he would hurt her on purpose—but that was a very low bar. 

To Star it was just common sense, the same kind of healthy, respectful fear one harbored for tornadoes and riptides. Coyotes ate people’s cats because they were hungry, not because they were evil—but they still did it, and they’d keep doing it. Thinking of the Phantom as a force of nature disqualified acts of malice, which made her position moderate. It made sense. Didn’t it?

Someone said something, but Star wasn’t listening. She did, however, jump alert when Paulina squeezed her hand. “They called my name,” she explained softly. “You wanna come with?”

The nurse was a middle-aged woman with frizzy red curls spilling from beneath a pink bandana, deep lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. They stood together to greet her, but the nurse bustled over to stop them. 

“None of that,” she scolded without heat as the girls sat back down. This close, Star could read her lanyard and put a name to the face—Monica Moreno, N.P. “Someone should’ve given you a chair. You wait right there, alright?” 

With that she turned on her heel and jogged to the other side of the entrance. The nurse pulled a squat gray wheelchair away from the line of identical chairs against the far wall and pushed it over to the girls. She bent over and put her arm under Paulina’s, lifting her gingerly to her feet.

“Lean on me as much as you need, and—” Paulina faltered, but Star grabbed her by the elbow before she could lose balance and helped her slide into the chair. “Perfect, thank you, sweetie.”

Star nodded. “Can I come with her?”

The nurse looked to Paulina, who nodded eagerly, and said “Of course.”

Once inside the room Star helped the nurse haul Paulina up onto the examination table, then pulled a chair away from the wall to take a seat of her own. The nurse asked some idle questions about how Paulie was feeling as she pressed and tapped at Paulina’s bruised ankle.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” A nod. “Can you lift your foot? Good. I know it hurts and the swelling looks nasty, but your range of motion isn’t too bad.”

“Is it broken?” asked Paulina.

“I don’t think so.” Seeming satisfied with her examination, Nurse Moreno stood and picked up a clipboard from the counter at the back of the room. “How did it happen?”

“Oh, you know,” said Paulina. “It happened when I was running away. Ghost attack.”

“That sounds like a pretty scary experience,” Nurse Moreno offered, brows creased with vague pity. Ears burning, Star just shrugged.

“Seriously,” Paulina agreed. “But it was alright! The ghost boy swooped in so we could get away. He was amazing.”

The nurse nodded solemnly, as though that wasn’t really an answer she needed to hear. “Phantom, you mean?” Her warm expression darkened minutely, lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. “Ghosts are dangerous, you know, even that one. You kids really shouldn’t be getting too friendly with it.”

“Him,” Star blurted before Paulina could make the same correction. “Phantom’s… a him.”

She wasn’t immediately sure of why she’d bothered. Star had hardly been picky about that sort of thing before. She hadn’t cared either way, referring to him in accordance with her present company—with her peers Phantom was a “he” or sometimes even a “they,” while with adults he was more often an “it.” Somehow, though, it crossed a line this time. Maybe the other ghost was an “it”, but not Phantom. Not anymore.

Each time his mood soured even the barest bit a part of her had felt like she was staring down a loaded gun, but he’d—there was nobody around to perform for, but he’d had moods. It wasn’t manipulation, and neither was it just instinct or compulsion or whatever else drove dangerous animals to do what they did.

Like a person—like a kid—he’d reacted with flippance first, then concern, as though the risk to Paulie’s safety had genuinely shaken him. When the fight turned, his grim determination gave way to naked desperation, like he was terrified for their lives if not his own. That wasn’t monstrous. It was human enough. He’d shrugged off life-ruining injuries like they were paper cuts, unaffected by the pain, but there was such hurt in his eyes at the thought of being feared. 

Maybe for the first time, Star couldn’t help but see him.

Looking up, she noticed that Paulina and Nurse Moreno were both staring at her, faces pinched with obvious concern. “Are you alright, sweetie? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Star blinked, found herself crying, and was immediately mortified. Not even at the height of her freshman year crush had Paulina ever been so sensitive. To her watchers, she realized, she’d burst into tears just because a random stranger had offhandedly misgendered a posthuman wild animal.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. Her eyes prickled and her cheeks felt on fire, mixed embarrassment and exhaustion curdling whatever relief had eased her in the waiting room. Star wiped furiously at her eyes and swallowed hard, feeling utterly ashamed. “I think it’s just—it’s catching up to me now.”

“Oh, Star,” Paulina crooned.

That wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it felt woefully incomplete even as she said it, like she was missing the vocabulary to explain herself. Her whole body felt tender and fragile, like a raw nerve, and she desperately wanted—needed—a hug.

Nurse Moreno stepped away from the examination table to kneel in front of Star and rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re alright, honey.”

Her voice was warm with genuine care, but Star didn't feel all too comforted. A sour taste lingered at the back of her throat.

“You were super brave,” assured Paulina from the table. “Really.”

"Thanks," she managed, still feeling vaguely queasy. "I'll be okay. I just—Phantom—”

The nurse narrowed her eyes. “It—he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” Star shouted, then amended more softly, “Sorry, no. He was good. He helped us. I just—he was scared, too and—” She shook her head. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. I just need to sleep, I think.”

“Are you absolutely sure, honey?”

Star nodded as vigorously as she could manage. “Yes, I promise. I’m just tired.”

“If you say so…” Nurse Moreno replied, clearly unconvinced but probably not paid enough to push the issue. If she wanted to argue, she didn’t show it. Instead she just stood up and turned away. Now facing Paulina, she pulled a sheet of paper from her clipboard and passed it over.

“Well, this looks like a second degree sprain to me,” she said.

“I think I got a first grade one once,” mused Paulina as she skimmed the paper. “When I was cheerleading. This is worse than that?”

The nurse nodded. “A little. I don’t think you need an X-ray or a boot tonight, but you should follow those instructions and follow up with your primary care as soon as possible…”

Star tuned the rest of it out, feeling boneless and drained, wrung-out like a dish towel. Even though she wasn’t officially admitted, Nurse Moreno pitied her enough that she offered to help clean up her cuts before she left, but Star insisted she’d rather do it at home. Paulina was helped back into the wheelchair and the nurse pushed her out into the lobby, where the receptionist lent her the phone so she could call her dad.

Mr. Sanchez answered before the first ring had even finished. He immediately got to shouting in frantic Spanish, loudly enough for Star to hear him and even recognize a few words through the bad landline speaker. Once Paulina managed to soothe him she stumbled through a hasty outline of the situation and copious assurances that they wouldn’t keel over before he arrived.

He promised to be over in ten minutes and made it there in eight. He’d obviously been worrying himself sick, hair and clothes rumpled and eyes faintly red. 

Star fidgeted beneath his searching gaze, only looking up to mumble an exhausted, “Thanks, Mr. Sanchez.”

In response he just nodded, clearly spent, but gave her a gentle clap on the shoulder as she climbed into the back of his car. Paulina took the passenger side and Mr. Sanchez folded the front seat down so she could stretch out her leg, muttering as he folded his jacket and fiddled with its placement as a cushion under Paulina’s ankle.

“How does that feel, sweetie? ¿Te sientes cómoda? Ah, let me—”

“I’m fine, Papá,” Paulina groaned. “I swear. I just wanna go home.”

At Paulina’s request he drove them back to the mall to retrieve their things, which were mercifully still laid out exactly where they’d dropped them. She retraced her steps to scoop up Paulina’s dropped purse and her own half-zipped backpack.

As she bent to retrieve her wallet, a sense of sickening deja vu washed over Star. Her skin prickled with cold, gelid needles tracing the raw edges of her scrapes. Limbs heavy with the instinctual impulse to freeze, she slowly turned back around. 

Only once her back was to the road did she hear it, an anguished whimper, a groan—a creak like splintering wood. Static. It seemed to come from right behind her, but when she whipped around there was no one else there.

She jumped up and glanced to where Mr. Sanchez was wheeling Paulina’s bike up to where he’d parked, heedless of the blanketing dread that thickened the air. That, it seemed, was something meant just for Star. 

By now she’d found an inkling of recognition—it was that empty feeling again, that terrible, sourceless hollowness. He hadn’t noticed. Heart quickening, she cast her gaze up and down the adjacent street, searching for a flicker of radioactive green or glowing red eyes. There was nothing.

Star ignored her aching body and unsettled mind to scurry back to Mr. Sanchez. Despite his gentle assertions that he’d take care of it, she helped load their bikes into the trunk. The sooner they were out of there, the better.

"Is that everything?"

She nodded and pawed idly through the pile of stuff in her lap. The metal clasp on Paulina’s purse was freezing when she rolled it between her fingers. "I think so."

With that Mr. Sanchez pulled across the row of unoccupied spaces so they could turn around. The blast of the heating system didn't quite dispel the chill in her throat, but it helped her relax at least a little bit.

Part of her ached at the thought, but she hoped, cruelly, that it was Phantom. Guilt and fear knotted her stomach in turns. She hoped that seething appetite was a permanent fixture she’d just never been close enough to notice, something he just let slip during the fighting. Even now that she was sure he could feel, that he would suffer for it, she hoped he was empty and miserable and lonely and hungry—because if he wasn’t, something else was.

“Oh,” she hurried to say as they peeled out of the lot, “is it alright if I stay at your house tonight, Mr. Sanchez? I’d just rather not be by myself, if that’s okay. My parents are out of town till Monday…” 

And as far as they were concerned, she was staying over with Paulina anyway. She swallowed and glanced over at her girlfriend, who was nodding off with her head against the window, then back up to the rearview mirror so she could see Mr. Sanchez’s face. 

His mustache drifted up in a fond half-smile, harsh lines loosening around his eyes. “Of course, estrellita. You're always welcome.”

Star had honestly expected a little more scolding from Mr. Sanchez, but then again it wasn’t like they could control who or when or where the ghosts attacked people. He was clearly careworn and she expected there might be a lecture and maybe even a harsher curfew in Paulina’s future, but not punishment.

The drive back wasn’t long, but even that small distance was a relief when it was taking them away from the mall. Star took a cue from Paulina and pressed her cheek against the window, eyes dragging on the unshattered street lights as they slid by. 

She wondered what had happened to the other ghost. Trapped in Phantom’s thermos, most likely—which led to the question of what he was doing. If he was alright. Had he come down from the same adrenaline Paulina was sleeping off? There was the broken nose and the gash on his thigh, and goodness-knows how many broken bones Star couldn’t have seen. 

For his sake she hoped the Fentons were right about ghosts not feeling pain.

Eventually they pulled into the driveway of the Sanchez house and up into the garage. Paulina’s dad circled the car and opened the passenger side to wake her up and carry her into the house. He batted away Star’s attempts to help, insisting she make herself at home instead—a sentiment Paulina echoed vigorously despite being barely awake. 

She hauled herself upstairs and invited herself into the shower, borrowing one of Paulie’s towels and a set of her spare clothes. The sting of body wash in her cuts helped to wake Star up, but only a little, and she found herself resisting the pull of sleep almost as soon as she’d stepped out of the tub. She toweled herself off and wrung out her hair without bothering to blow it dry, eager to collapse facedown on Paulina’s soft queen mattress.

As she was exiting the bathroom Mr. Sanchez met her in the hall with a sleepy Paulina in his arms. Star rushed to open the bedroom door and dig up another set of pajamas for her girlfriend. The pair of them fretted over Paulina for probably longer than was strictly necessary, piling up pillows to elevate her leg. They set her up with water, ibuprofen, and a lunch box ice pack to lay over her ankle. 

After much bickering, promises in the double-digits, and a similarly long string of combative “I love yous,” Mr. Sanchez finally relented to his own exhaustion and set off to bed. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him Star climbed into the bed next to Paulina and let herself melt.

“Come here,” said Paulina, patting the sheets next to her. Star scooted up and curled beneath her arm, eyes already stinging with unshed tears. “It’s okay, it’s over.”

Paulina had spent her emotions crying in the woods, but now it was Star’s turn to finish what she’d started at the clinic. She didn’t have the words to explain these feelings—it wasn’t grief, exactly, but an overwhelming pathos nonetheless, and it crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Paulina stroked her hair and murmured sleepy condolences, combing through and untangling the damp strands with her fingers. Her wet hands felt almost shockingly cold whenever they brushed against the flushed shell of Star’s ear, her cheeks red from crying.

Phantom’s touch was corpse-like because that’s what he was. He had touched her, had held her hand and rubbed her shoulders and coughed his stale breath into the air and been dead for all of it, and that had made sense. He was a ghost, but something had been missing—something she’d done her best to ignore.

It was so easy to forget that, for ghosts to be dead, they had to have once been alive.

And Star hadn’t mourned him. Nobody had.

A whimper escaped her and Paulina crooned. “Hey, cariña. You wanna talk about it?”

“Now now, Paulie,” mumbled Star. She swallowed and added, “Sorry, I’m just tired. Maybe later.”

Paulina thumbed a tear from her cheek and kissed her temple. “It was so scary,” she said instead of pressing. “You were amazing.” Another kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Star sighed, and let restless sleep take her.

Later never came.

[obv10usly]

Pam, I like completely forgot to actually write to you during all the incredibly Pam Day love I saw on my dash on the 29th of February but I still wanted to do it now. You really are such a lovely and wonderful presence in the phandom and you deserve all of the love poured out for you on that day and all the other times. People like you are their weight worth in gold and it's such a pleasure to share this space with you. I am going to ramble too much if I don't restrain myself, but I just wanted to send a little (belated) love your way! Have the loveliest day!

Oh Nina this is such the sweetest thing to say! 😭😭😭 I almost didn’t share this publicly coz it feels so self indulgent, but I need to! I need to show you how much I love and appreciate you!

Tbf we didn’t talk regularly as I’m not really one who would pop into people’s dm all the time but seriously my tumblr experience won’t be complete without you! Your queues are legendary and they brighten up my (and I’m sure everyone else’s) day! And you’re such a creative person who contributes all the time to your fandoms. I admire that so much. 🥹

Thanks again for your kind words. Love you loads! 💕

[dnphan]

I really am enjoying the playlist. Something about all these people coming together and sharing music that they associate with these feelings and memories of being in the Phandom makes me emotional.

Anyways, I would like to suggest the following songs if thats okay:

Turning Out Pt. III - AJR

What If - Cody Fry

Waltz for Sweatpants - Cody Fry.

Anyways, I hope you are doing well! Thank you for the playlist and popping up in the tags with the new additions.

i agree 100%!!! everyone sharing their music and creating this huge collaborative playlist is just so wholesome. i especially love all of the different vibes we are getting from these people. the songs that people choose really show the impact of dan and phil on their life and their perception of dnp's life/relationship. it's very interesting to see and I'm enjoying this little project sooo much. when i say thank you for sending in annnyy recc or even just a little comment to me, i mean it!! it truly makes my day.

lots of yapping to say.. thank you for ur suggestions and being so kind! all ur songs have been added to the playlist :D

[personthattoleratesme]

I’ve legit thought about making a dnp video essay and posting it to YouTube. I would want to use one of those voice changer things though because I work in a job where I have to be really private about personal stuff/interests

The more I see these videos essays pop up the more I feel the urge to make one myself. Like it’s actually getting on my nerves so much because these people have no fucking clue about anything they’re talking about, there’s always so little nuance it pisses me off. Like there’s more to dnp and the phandom than “omg phan shippers were so weird”

Anyway I really hope you make one! I would love to see it! Maybe I’ll actually make one myself after I finish my exams for uni. And a lot of video essayists use voice changers so definitely do that if you need to protect your identity!

If you end up making it please let me know!

[glassprism]

Since twitter is a mess these days due to owns it now do you have any good recommendations? Any good social platforms for theater people?

Bold of you to assume I'm on enough social media to even have recommendations.

That being said, I can give you a run-down of... some of the stuff I'm on, whether it counts as social media or not. I'll try to go in semi-chronological order. Big caveat that this is based mostly on my own experience; so much of social media is what you make of it and the niche you create for yourself, so it can be hard to determine what is the "general vibe" and what is just "my opinion". Having said all that, here we go.

Forums - Definitely not the oldest place for phans to congregate online, but it's the oldest I've been on, so I'll just start here. I honestly only know one, Deserted Phans, and it's pretty quiet. (No wait, I know another, but it's the phandom equivalent of the shadow lands and we will not speak of what goes on there.) When active, it tends to be the place for many older (or old-school) fans, people who were there when the ALW musical first opened, viewed many of the original casts, saw the changes wrought by the 2004 movie and LND first-hand, probably got into actual fistfights with ALW and CamMack. Cool people, but they've seen A Lot and are a bit tired. Nowadays, it's probably not worth it to make an account since they're so quiet, but the nature of forums is they're great archives of info, so that's a good reason to check them out.

Facebook - You can follow the official Facebook page for Phantom on here, but the closed, private groups are where most of the discussion is at. That being said, remember, it's Facebook; the people on there tend to be older, less Internet-savvy, and less connected to other parts of the phandom, so be prepared to see constant rehashes of the same old arguments, over and over again (if I see "Team Erik or Team Raoul?" or "How do you guys feel about the 2004 movie / LND?" one more time...). Occasionally yields some spectacularly funny conversations that you can pass around to your friends.

YouTube - It's YouTube, so most everything is video content and the comments are not worth reading. You'll get people of all ages and experiences here, and their commentary will reflect that. Expect a lot of "Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggess are the best!" or "Why do people hate Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum so much? I love them!" type comments. Good if you want to get a bead on casual phandom. I use it mainly for bootlegs and promo footage of shows.

Reddit - There's a dedicated subreddit for Phantom, but it's pretty quiet. I don't go on there too often, but it feels like a slightly better version of the Facebook phandom - a lot of the same questions popping up over and over, but there are some oldies on there ready to give intelligent, nuanced responses if needed. If you ask the right question, good for discussion and responses as it's more text-based.

Twitter - I know you're trying to flee Twitter right now because it's a hell hole, but before you go, I really do need you to make a verified fake account of Cameron Mackintosh and announce that the original stagings of Phantom and Les Mis will be returning. In less than a year. To every country worldwide.

Tumblr - Age-wise, skews a little younger than some of the other places, more older teenager to young adult (thinking 18 to 30s, though there are many, many exceptions). Image- and text-based, so good for gifsets, art, or meta and fic. Very much what you make of it, and who you follow will probably determine what kind of fandom experience and discussion you get, but I've seen people willing to talk about fic, about shipping about meta, about the various adaptations, pretty much whatever you want. Can definitely be some discourse, though I think the phandom is comparatively quiet.

Instagram - In terms of age, I think Instaphandom tends to be a little younger than Tumblr (more teenagers IMO). Very, very picture- and video-based, but also very popular, and lot of actors and people involved in the show and various versions are on there. Didn't have that good of a reputation a few years ago, mainly because people on there kept reposting stuff, but it seems better now. Good place to get very... in-the-moment news and postings, I think. Has some drama and such, again because of how young the population is and the presence of celebrities, but can also be a great source for information that you won't get elsewhere (e.g. news updates, casting info).

Discord - Think of this as like a big group chat. If you're into that, you might have fun on Discord. What you get is very dependent on what kind of server you join, servers being the places where people congregate and talk. Some are public and so you'll have very active conversations with a wide variety of people, some are private and quiet and more like an online friend group. The group chat nature of it can make it overwhelming, but if you're okay with that, it's where a lot of phandom discussion is happening.

TikTok - I dunno, I'm not on here, but it looks like a wild place. Seems to have a lot of young people. The weirdest discourse appears to be coming from here. If you go, tell me what it's like.