#thodf

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, bit 2

bit 1

If a ghost found him, he’d help them find a weak spot in the boundary to pass over to the Realms. If a ghost tried to mess with him, he’d make them go back to the Realms. But it wasn’t like it had been. The ghosts outside of Amity Park weren’t even able to scratch him. So yeah, he’d help a ghost if they needed it, but it wasn’t everything anymore. His life was his own again finally.

Not that it was anything special.

He was taking classes while he worked doing work for whatever the start up of the month was. He lived in what was a glorified closet (literally, he thought) of a small apartment with an ever changing cast of four other people. Well, three other. Penny was always living there (or “living” there if she had a new partner she was smitten with) but the other three changed more often than Danny even tried to keep track of anymore. But that was just San Francisco living.

The good news about it all was that San Francisco was weird enough that no one looked twice at Danny even when he was dealing with a ghost.

It was especially handy when his staticy friend was around.

“If I end up with seizures again because of you, I’m finding your estate and suing them for compensation,” Danny grumbled as the seat across from him started to shimmer with twitching particles of something. He didn’t have time for this, he had a quiz to finish. “I can’t help you, alright? I don’t know how to help you.”

(And didn’t Danny hate that.)

[clockwaysadmin]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

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Status: Hopeful

Ship: ??Danny/Wally or Danny/Dick/Wally

CW: additional tags to be added, panic attacks/anxiety, self esteem issues, mild horror, mild body horror?

Danny Fenton was being haunted. Annoyingly, that wasn’t at all unusual. Danny was sadly used to being haunted. One could even claim, if one was being pedantic, that Danny haunted himself. Sure, since Danny had moved away from Amity Park and the mess his life had been there, the haunting were a lot less frequent, but they still happened from time to time. The thing was, is this haunting was different. Different in a way that made Danny worried about the ghost and their well-being.

All parts are being posted here on Tumblr in their first draft version.

All things related to this fic can be found in the 'thodf' tag on @clockwayswrites. Major links are below.

Ch 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Ch 2:

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[clockwayswrites]

Bad migraine day, but still needed words. I was dangerously enabled to start something new.

-

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Danny Fenton was being haunted.

Annoyingly, that wasn't at all unusual. Danny was sadly used to being haunted. One could even claim, if one was being pedantic, that Danny haunted himself.

Sure, since Danny had moved away from Amity Park and the mess his life had been there, the haunting were a lot less frequent, but they still happened from time to time. The thing was, is this haunting was different. Different in a way that made Danny worried about the ghost and their well-being.

Outside of Amity Park, the ghosts were always far less corporeal and sometimes would fade in and out of any notice (even to him) as their energy ebbed and flowed. This ghost though… this ghost was like an old timey TV, one of those ones that only got like six channels and was more static than picture. Danny couldn't hear them, touch them, or talk to them.

Danny wasn't even sure if they saw him most of the time.

It wasn't like anything Danny had seen before. It was scary. It was scary in a way that Danny wasn't used to being scared. He'd known for a decade what would happen to him when he died. This static, untethered ghost made that fate feel fragile in a way it never had.

As much as anything, Danny’s own fear made him want to find a way to help the ghost just so that he could have answers.

But Danny was out of the ghost game.

Mostly.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p3

masterpost (cause apparently we need one now)

Unheeding of his words, the figure slowly filled out with the particles. It was a strong day, apparently. There was enough there for Danny to get as good of a sense about the person as he ever did.

They were humanoid. Tall and rather lanky, but with a strength to the slant of their shoulders and lines of their chest. Today there was even enough for Danny to tell that their hair was a short, swept up style. Their hands rested on the table, like they were really sitting there with Danny.

That was another thing: this ghost never floated.

“I can't help you,” Danny stressed again. He looked at where the figure's eyes would be, even though it made wrong and sick crawl up the back of Danny’s neck. “I don't know how. There has to be someone else you can go to.”

The figure tilted their head.

There wouldn't be, would there? This wasn't a problem just anyone could solve. What was the chances that even in San Francisco that there was someone else that could see this ghost.

It had to be him.

It had to be him and he was going to fail this ghost.

He didn't know enough and he couldn't… Couldn’t or wouldn't? Isn't that what it came down to? He couldn't find out how to help or he wouldn’t find out how to help?

Danny wasn't sure which it actually was. He wasn't sure if he could actually go to the Realms anymore.

He hadn't wanted to know.

Danny rubbed at his eyes, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. Ancients what did he do?

The buzz of the static got louder. The hair on Danny's arms stood on end. Wrong wrong wrong!

Danny yanked his hands down just in time to see the fragmented fingers of the figure touch him.

And then all Danny saw was colors.

Bright, whirling colors.

White and yellow and red.

Someone was standing in front of him, gripping Danny’s arms so tightly he could feels his bones shift.

Pale skin dotted in freckles. Blue. Orange. Saying something—

Danny tumbled backwards. The chair crashed into the ground a moment before he did. His fingers crawled helplessly at the ground as he screamed.

It was so bright.

A whirl of colors.

Then blackness.

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…"

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p5

masterpost please no crit or editing, I know there are mistakes. this migraine is on day 7 and killing me <3

Danny swiped his finger over one of the hanging crystals in the waiting room window of Marvelous Mina’s Spiritual Nexus: or, in other words, the old, tiny, craftsman building that was crammed between two mid rises that Wilhelmina Aleshire had inherited from her grandmother several years ago.

There wasn’t any sort of spiritual nexus in the place. Mina was actually completely inept at conversing with the dead (Danny excluded). What Mina was unusually skilled at lay in the realm of psychic readings, specifically those involving divination such as tarot and oracle cards. She was also quite good at reading living people.

(Danny might have been a little jealous of that.)

Danny had first stumbled upon Mina and her ‘nexus’ when they were both dealing with the same ghost: him from the spirit itself and her from the bereaved widower of the man. Working together had wrapped things up quite quickly. It had also actually been enjoyable.

Mina was weird, energetic, and curious. It was an overwhelming combination at times, but other times it was just perfect. It was especially welcome when Danny got into a slump of some sort, usually between jobs or partners or when he wanted to kill and then end an annoying new roommate.

Not that he would ever do that.

(But Brad came damn close.)

A crying woman came dashing out through the curtain that separated the foyer waiting room from the sitting room that Mina used for her readings. She wiped dramatically at her eyes as she got to the door, heaved a massive sigh, tossed her hair back, and headed back out into the world.

“Wow. What did you tell her?” Danny asked, not even turning to look at Mina yet, though he knew she would be standing at the open curtain on the edge between the two spaces where old, cracked black and white tiles met darkly stained hardwood painted with hena style flowers.

“Oh, you know, the usual thing people hate to hear; it won’t work out between her and her current boyfriend,” Mina said. She dropped into the seat next to Danny, and he finally turned to look at her. Her mass of dark blond hair was piled up on top of her head in a sort of gibson girl bun that looked effortlessly, messily stylish. Mina was good at that—being effortlessly stylish in a disheveled sort of way. She brushed back her bangs and continued. “He’s actually already being set to be engaged by his family to ‘someone proper’, which he’ll give into for the inheritance—which is all she was after anyways. She’ll get over it.”

“Something something fish in the sea,” Danny said. He reached out and plucked a petal from Mina’s hair. It was from a bright orange zinnia. Mina’s favorite.

Mina hummed. “And how is your fishing going, Mr. Fenton?”

“Currently in an absolute drought, no where to fish around here.”

“Danny, you live in San Francisco. A bi man such as yourself is not allowed to say there is no fish around.”

Danny scowled, “No fish that don’t want to eat me and spit me out.”

“I mean…”

“Not like that!” Danny explained, a quick blush rising on in his cheeks. “I meant like, viciously.”

“I mean…” Mina repeated with a lascivious smirk.

“I regret coming to you for help.”

“No,” Mina whined, drawing out the word. “What help? Do you have a new ghost problem? What sort of help do you need? Danny, let me help!”

Danny managed to glare at her, but only for a few moments before he relented with an over wrought sigh. “Fine, you can help. Can we go talk now or do you have another appointment?”

“Not until four,” she said. She took Danny’s hand and practically dragged him through the door to the right and into the private section of the once stately home. “Which tea do you want?”

“Dealer's choice. Whatever tea you think is best for a weird talk about a weird ghost,” Danny said. He had his favorites of Mina's diverse tea selection, sure, but she had a way of always choosing the best blend foe the day if he left the choice to her.

She narrowed her eyes as she studied Danny in a way that always made the back of his neck itch. He put up with it dutifully, but relaxed noticeably when she nodded and continued them on to the kitchen.

The room was painted a warm, coral orange. The color should have clashed with the the pale blue cabinets and pale butcher top counters, but instead it just worked. It was very Mina.

Danny sat at the table and idly scratched Hubris on the head.

Hubris was Mina’s ancient grey cat. He had one single golden eye left and used it to glare pitifully at whoever was near until the pet him. He also purred like a wood chipper.

“So give me the deets,” Mina demanded once she had set down the two cups of tea.

Danny sighed and took a sip of his tea. “They’re different. It’s not like they’re made of smoke or mist, it’s like they’re full of static. And they don’t look dead either. I actually—I finally got a got a good look at them this last episode.”

“I don’t like the way you say ‘episode’,” Mina said. Her eyes narrowed over the top of her tea cup.

“You shouldn't,” Danny said with a frown as pulled out the sketch and unfolded it. “They’re seizures, I think? Not like I’ve gone to a doctor about them. I don’t think ‘the ghost person touches me and the world goes technicolor kaleidoscope’ would go over well with a medical professional.”

Hubris opened his one eye with a snort as Mina’s cup clanged down onto her saucer.

“Seizures?! Danny! What the f! You can’t just mess around with seizures.”

“You can say fuck, Mina, we’re both adults,” Danny said dryly.

She leaned forward. “I will throw my tea at you, Danny, unless you explain.”

“But I can’t exactly. They’re not a regular ghost, and I’ve never had anything like this happen before. Mina, look. They look alive.” He turned the drawing around to face her and slid it her way. “I drew this after the episode yesterday. I saw them so clearly. Their eyes had a spark, their skin was healthy skin with a flush and everything, and I even think they breathed. I don’t… Mina, I’m worried that they’re not a ghost.”

Mina picked up the sketch carefully. Her brows were furrowed. “But if they’re not a ghost, why are they contacting you?”

Danny shook his head. “No, if they’re not a ghost, how are they contacting me. And why am I their only option?”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty much. But that’s why I’m here. I want to try things a different way. I want you to try and read for them, Mina.”

[clockwayswrites]

I need y'all you know I'm already in love with my two newest OC's.

The room was painted a warm, coral orange. The color should have clashed with the the pale blue cabinets and pale butcher top counters, but instead it just worked. It was very Mina. Danny sat at the table and idly scratched Hubris on the head. Hubris was Mina’s ancient grey cat. He had one single golden eye left and used it to glare pitifully at whoever was near until they pet him. He also purred like a wood chipper.

[clockwayswrites]

Let's give you all the poll this time. Will end early, but will run after least 10 hours.

[clockwayswrites]

You all should know that Hubris is based on the OG family cat. My mother got him when she was in college, before she even knew my dad, and he lived to be just shy of 20.

He was a bruiser of a cat who did indeed purr like a woodchipper and loved to be cuddled. Belly up back rubs were especially favored. He was also very smart (sometimes for evil).

He helped raise a lot of other pets, and my brother and I.

Also, he was named Yoda.

[clockwayswrites]

Oh. Well. That's what's going to happen, eh?

[clockwayswrites]

...The Haunting of Danny Fenton could be them...

Missing the boys.

And by boys, I mean Danny/Dick/Wally.