Because of discovering brain scans, pulsing heart-like cores and other such tells through their newest invention (a long-distance scanner), Maddie and Jack came to the startling conclusion that Danny Phantom isn't actually dead. He's heavily ecto-irradiated for sure, but very much alive, if barely.
As they are legitimately concerned about Phantom's continued health, they are now blaring out announcements to the public in the hopes that Phantom will willingly submit himself to the hospital
(make what you will of this premise. i hope you find it interesting though :'>)
Jack and Maddie didn’t like the results. Any of them. But being scientists, they couldn’t ignore data. Double check it, confirm it, test it, challenge it, prove it, disprove it, investigate it, but not ignore it. And the data was as good as it could be, taken remotely. The only thing better would be to have direct access to the subject, to confirm with their own eyes what their instruments had told them.
But the idea of direct physical confirmation… The way they would have gotten that direct physical confirmation before they’d gotten this data… before they’d made the Fenton Distance Dissector… It made Maddie queasy. Jack didn’t look much better.
“Mads,” he said, slowly. “If this is right… Doesn’t that mean that the ghost boy is…” He swallowed. “This is biological matter, biological processes. Life processes…”
“It means he’s alive,” said Maddie. “Alive, but this…” She looked at the figures again. “The levels of ectocontamination needed to cause these kinds of symptoms…” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Do we still have the data we got from that ghost plague?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Jack. “Course we do! We never throw anything out.” He got up and walked over to their wall of filing cabinets, pulling them out one after another.
“Mm,” said Maddie. That was true enough. But they also never organized anything, which meant that sometimes the difference between keeping something and throwing it out was strictly academic. “You remember how sick those kids got.”
“So sick we let those weirdo feds take the kids,” grumbled Jack. “I still think that was the wrong move. What were they going to do? Audit our taxes?”
“That is what they threatened to do,” said Maddie.
“Sure, but so what? Going to jail is better than kids dying because government doctors don’t know left from right when it comes to ghosts. If they even were from the government… They smelled fishy. And like lemons. Made me a little hungry, honestly. Maybe that’s why I agreed.”
“Mhm,” said Maddie, distracted, going through the numbers again. “But if he’s more contaminated than those kids, what is his health like?”
Jack paused. “Oh, huh. Didn’t think about that. But he seems healthy enough, flying around all day, bantering with ghosts.”
“Does he? Healthy teenagers don’t walk through walls, disappear, or fly.”
“Dunno about that. Danny does a good job of disappearing when it’s time for his chores.”
Maddie waved a hand. “He’s not that bad. He keeps up with vacuuming, at least.” She remembered skiving off just as many of her own chores as a teenager. “But you know what I mean. We don’t know if the other effects of ectoplasm are covering up the negative health outcomes. Maybe he has ghostly strength, and it’s compensating for muscular weakness, things like that. Or not that, the scans of his muscles look pretty good, actually.”
“I get it,” said Jack. “Ectoplasm can revive dead cells, make it look like they’re still functional. It’d be hard for him to tell if his cells were dying off and getting reanimated. We’ve had trouble with that, too. That Thanksgiving turkey was really lifelike!”
“Hard to tell, until it caught up to him,” said Maddie. She chewed her bottom lip. “There’s… not really a good way to tell from here if that’s happening. This is… It couldn’t all be reanimated.” She couldn’t be looking at a corpse that thought it was still alive.
“No, no,” said Jack. “With how long Phantom’s been active, the numbers wouldn’t work out. We’ve never managed to keep deceased biological material animate for that long, even with regular infusions of purified ectoplasm, which Phantom wouldn’t have access to. If these readings are anywhere close to accurate–”
“They are,” said Maddie.
“--then he’s, well, you said it. Alive. Phantom is alive.” He paused. “And dying.”
“Alive and dying,” repeated Maddie. “Jack, he can’t be much older than Danny. We need to do something.”
“Yeah,” said Jack.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Jack announced, “I’ve got an idea!”
.
“They’re going to get me killed,” hissed Danny. “I’m dead. They’re going to kill me.”
“PHANTOM,” blared the speakers on top of the GAV. “WE KNOW YOU’RE ALIVE. YOUR LEVEL OF ECTOCONTAMINATION IS DANGEROUSLY HIGH. COME TO FENTONWORKS FOR TREATMENT. WE MEAN YOU NO HARM–”
“They can’t seriously think this will, like, work, do they?” asked Tucker. “I mean, if you didn’t know better, this’d practically scream trap.”
“They’re going to get themselves arrested,” said Jazz, half hiding her face with her hands. “The GIW is going to raid us.”
“It could be worse,” said Sam. “They could be trying to fit you into a–”
“ALL MEDICAL CHECKUPS COME WITH A COMPLIMENTARY FENTON JUMPSUIT–”
“Well, never mind.”
“Don’t you… already wear a Fenton jumpsuit?” asked Tucker, squinting.
“They don’t know that,” said Danny. “Are none of you guys worried about the GIW hunting me down, now that Mom and Dad are so helpfully broadcasting my medical information all over town?”
“You seem to have that covered, actually,” said Tucker. “Besides, they kind of already knew you spent time in a ‘human disguise’ or whatever, and they decided you were that Gregor guy.”
“His name was Elliot,” said Sam. “You went on just about as many dates with him as I did, you might at least try to remember.”
“Hell,” said Danny. “I’d forgotten about that.”
Sam scoffed. “I hadn’t.”
“What?” said Jazz. “What? Gregor? Elliot? What are you talking about? How come I haven’t heard about this?”
“Because Danny was having a weird ghost feelings episode the whole time and stalking me about it.”
“What?”
“Sam! Are you trying to get me killed now?”
“To be fair,” said Tucker, “I was the one inviting myself on your dates.”
“I don’t really mind,” said Sam.
“That’s not what you said then.”
“Well, we didn’t know about Danny’s weird ghost feeling stuff back then.”
“PHANTOM, IT’S VERY IMPORTANT THAT WE SPEAK TO YOU ABOUT YOUR HEALTH AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. WE HAVE SEVERAL DECONTAMINATION PROTOCOLS WE WOULD LIKE TO TRY–”
“So, are you going to tell them?” asked Tucker. “Since they’re obviously not going to dissect you over being a ghost now?”
Describe a memory from childhood they remember fondly. ❤️
It has to be Hlaine 'Mad' Larkin teaching her to shoot.
Gwenllian could feel eyes on her small frame. She knew they were her father's - stood at the doorway to the range, watching silently. She was ten now, and had pleaded with her parents, begged and behaved and worked for this opportunity.
She wanted to impress him more than anything else in the world.
'Take a deep breath,' came the rasping voice from next to her. Larkin seemed ancient to her young eyes - already one of the older Ghosts at the Founding, war and time and his particular brand of madness had aged him further, a bag of grumpy bones in a worn leather sack. But he was the best shot in the regiment - glory be, was he the best shot - and she was determined not to let him down.
She took the deep breath.
'Good,' he nodded. 'Let it half-out.'
She did, one eye glued to the scope of the sniper-pattern lasrifle in her hands. One of the few left with the nalwood stock. It was warm and time-worn in her hands.
'Whenever you're ready,' he encouraged. She risked a smile, and focused. Fired.
'Very fething nice,' Larkin chuckled. She'd blown the grotesk off the dummy. Kill-shot. Perfect.
She looked around, at her father, and he nodded briefly then disappeared. She grinned and settled in.
Pepper sighs contentedly, stretching her legs beneath the comforter she’d absconded from Tony’s bed, letting the book fall closed in her lap. It wasn’t a terrible read but definitely not one she felt the need to read again in the future. The workshop is sound proof but she knows, just from experience, that Tony is tinkering with his suits and his cars and possibly even Jarvis, if he felt the AI was not as updated as it should be.
Their relationship was comfortable but it still felt new and having the mansion mostly to herself was still bizarre to her, especially since it was Sunday and she didn’t have to work. She sort of felt intrusive; the mansion is Tony’s private, personal space and she only really comes here to force him to sign things, sometimes.
“Quit thinking so hard, baby, you’re giving me a migraine,” his hand on the top of her head tilts her back to look up at him, smudged t-shirt and soft smile. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Pepper feels shy, now, overheating under the intensity of his gaze.
“You’re not intruding, by the way,” his drawl returns, dry and pointed as he curls his fingers into her hair, a tender contrast to his tone. “I saw you squirming when I came up. You always do that when you’re uncomfortable.”
“Tony…” a breathy sigh of his name, pleading with him to understand.
“Pepper,” he shifts around the arm of the couch to bend over her, meeting her lips in a quick kiss. He mentally files away his stolen prize and grins like a child with the biggest teddy bear at the carnival. “I want you here, baby. It is as much your place as it is mine. Maybe more so, I suspect Jarvis prefers your company to mine.”
“I neither confirm nor deny a slight bias toward Ms. Potts as it concerns her presence in the mansion, sir.”
Tony tips his head, raising his eyebrow as if to say, “See?” , grinning when Pepper giggles and ducks her head away from his adoring gaze. He’s so intense, sometimes, and it makes her want him in ways she’s never wanted anyone else. He reaches for the edge of the comforter – his, he realizes with a quiet chuckle – and tugs it up over her.
“You stealin’ my stuff, Potts?” his voice is a low vibration, and it draws a shudder up her spine, spreading like a delicious heat across her shoulders; another thing he does, smolders with such intense heat, she feels like she may overheat.
“Well, if you wouldn’t keep it so cold in the mansion,” Pepper teases, pulling her knees and the comforter up to her chest. She rests her cheek on her knees, looking up at him through auburn lashes. “Tony…”
“Baby, you are my personal space.” Tony touches the silky line of her neck disappearing beneath the collar of her cotton t-shirt, tracing it with the faintest of touch, grinning when it draws her shoulders up and she turns her face away from him, tucking it in her knees. “You have been since you became indispensable and irreplaceable to me. I promise you; you aren’t invading anything. I love having you here. You are my home.”
She tilts her face up to look at him, again, baby blue meeting dark brown and the brilliant grin that always made the butterflies downright tornadic in her stomach. He scoops her up in a tender kiss; reassurance and affection in the soft press of his mouth. When he pulls away with a rumble of, “God, I’ll never get tired of that!”, she can’t help the way her face warms beneath his palms.
“I’ve got a couple of things to finish up in the shop,” she feels more than hears the rumbling drawl against her face. “When I get done, we’ll order dinner, maybe watch a movie?”
Pepper just nods, sighing contentedly when he lifts himself up from where he’d been kneeling and readjusts the blanket around her as she curls into the fetal position. One last kiss to the side of her head and he’s off to finish whatever project he’d been tinkering with, she just hears his faint singing as he disappears into the soundproof workshop, before the pull of sleep is too heavy and she’s drifting off.
She’s bleary-eyed and groggy when she wakes to the gold of sunset, wrapped in the smell of soap and grease and Tony’s body curled around hers, his arms ensuring her snug fit against him. He’d carefully tucked his blanket back around both of them and nuzzled into the back of her head, breathing in the soft floral of her shampoo as he, too, gave into the want of sleep.
“’tay, Pep. Cold.” She feels his breath move her hair and the minute tightening of his hold and happily sinks back into his warmth. He is terribly cuddly and his arms are a comforting weight around her body. She’s safe with him.
And, lazy Sundays are definitely her new favorite days.
Hey y’all! I know I’ve been gone, babying this wrist but now it’s all good and I’m getting back to writing! Spinning Wheel, a commission and a super special (super requested) sequel are in the works! Also I am super excited to get into chats with y’all again!! Also HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!
So, to celebrate my underwhelming return I invite all of you to Ask Me Anything! Writing, personal, fandom, all will be answered and answered honestly! Let’s have some fun!
It’s not a task, not just a job. It’s even more than his duty as a hero! Sometimes it’s overwhelming, but making sure that nothing comes to harm the town feels like the most important thing in the world. Sure, sometimes he would like to play games with his friends, and sure, he’s tired all the time, and maybe his grades are absolutely abysmal, but really at the end of the day, these are mere annoyances.
To see them safe and sound? That satisfaction is worth more than any ‘A’ in the world. Rain or shine. Day or night. He’s ready to fight for their lives. His friends worry, like they always do. And then he’ll get stronger to make sure they don’t have to. And then he’ll be frustrated when there’s yet another really powerful ghost that just happens to know how to fight him. And then his friends try to counsel him again, that he should be more careful.
It’s a cycle, a really really frustrating one. It always seems like there’s another ghost trying to test his resolve. You’d think that after all this time, they’d get the picture, but no. Nuisances always found their way to crawl back and bug him again.
Which, he’d do. Again. And again. It doesn’t matter if he’s broken until there’s nothing left but a bloody mess, he’ll find a way to rise up and crush anyone who dares to stand between him and his family. At the end of the day, each fight is for them, to make sure they can live happily. Danny doesn’t have anything to give back other than this. As a human he’s useless. He’s just a stargazing loser with nothing better than to do than waste his life taking each day for granted.
He’s only worth as much as each smile gained from the passing days.
So he’s a hero, and that’s what he’ll always be. He’ll protect Amity Park doing what he knows best, crushing ghosts with a witty remark and an ectoblast to the face.
Because this is his town.
His family’s town.
This town is theirs. It’s why patrolling is so important. If a random ghost appeared out of the middle of nowhere and decided that hey, let’s crush this human, and that human just so happened to be one of Danny’s, and Danny was doing homework instead of fighting it, he’d never forgive himself. Instead of letting that heartache happen, it’s best to patrol. Keep the grounds from being too infested.
You know, safe.
Jazz doesn’t explore too much. She has a path she takes and she takes it often. To the school, to the library, and back home. The order of where she goes and how she gets there changes every once in awhile, but keeping three places from being ghost infested isn’t so difficult. Sometimes she goes to the grocery store or the mall, but that’s not generally an issue. It’s easy to find out when she’s going.
Jazz doesn’t have any friends outside of classes. It makes it easier.
Mom and Dad are a different story. They don’t socialize but they tend to go everywhere. Rolling up and down every narrows alleyway in their in the Fenton RV, Danny can’t keep track of where they’ll be let alone how to keep ghosts from launching a sneak attack. The best he can do is attack any vile thing that attempts to get near his parents and let that lesson sink in so far into their ectoplasmic skulls that they’ll know not to come near Amity Park ever again if they know what’s good for them.
Still, Danny tries not to worry too much. Things tend to keep away from his parents. Humans and ghosts alike disperse on sight. More than once he’s seen a little ghost dart into an alleyway when they run down the street. Plus, it’s nice that they have a reputation for potential dissection.
They’ve sworn off experimentation since Danny’s revealed that he’s Phantom, but it’s not like he’s going to tell the ghosts that. There are some secrets best kept close.
And then there’s Sam and Tucker. His lovely best friends who only want to protect him and keep him safe. He loves them with all his heart but he swears they try to give him heart attacks. Each fight, each scrape and bruise; they pile up like a quilt of pain and disappointment. They say they’re fine, but it can’t be true. If they’re fine, then Danny wouldn’t need to protect them; they wouldn’t get hurt in the first place. He tries to train them to be faster, stronger, and just plain aim better, but that damn cycle keeps coming back and bringing in more and more enemies that just want to make him and everything he loves suffer from their wrath.
His friends’ schedules depend on his. While he can keep and eye on his family at home, the same can’t be said of Tucker and Sam. Try as he might, trying to keep them consistent just leads them running into battles at an attempt of helping.
He makes due, but he wishes he doesn’t have to.
Jazz, Dad, Mom, Tucker, and Sam. They’re the most important things in his life, his reason why he keeps going. It’s scary how much this purpose torments him, but the pure joy created from their happiness is too much of a temptation to lose. Before the accident, everything felt like a mystery, like the world pulling him in every direction, turning him around and pushing him back until all he could do is look up and see the stars for a hope that something out there could give him purpose.
But these powers. They gave him, give him a reason to push forward, and he can’t afford to lose that. Not ever.
The idea of losing any of them strikes a deep fear in his heart. Trying to imagine it feels like the world stops turning and a deep rage suddenly silents any extraneous thoughts until all that’s left is a hollow void filled with only the word, “mine”.
Because they are his. To protect. To care for.
He won’t let anyone touch them.
If this meant chasing off any nobody who tried to befriend Jazz for some odd reason then he’d keep her oblivious in perfect isolation as long as he could have it and listen through every psychology lecture with an excited nod.
If this meant sabotaging inventions to keep his parents stuck in the lab days at a time with only his and Jazz’s company, then he’d break a thousand Fenton gadgets a thousand times over and bring them dinner downstairs without a crack in his smile.
If this meant terrifying bullies or chasing girls away to keep Tucker from getting hurt by their fists or rejections then he’d be his friends shield and take all of Dash’s punches just for the chance to see those deep bruises gone forever.
If this meant dating Sam and keeping her to himself, so no filthy bug could come in and put their hands on her, then he’d hold her close, kiss her sweetly, and be everything she’d ever need even if he himself would be just content to watch the way her split ends shimmer in her hazy bedroom lights.
There’s some things Danny can’t control, people who do things illogically and make a mess of everything. No matter how many times he warns some people they always tend to crawl back and try to stick their noses where they don’t belong. It’s maddening how much he can’t seem to make his world perfect for them to live in. Or at least, as perfect as he can make it for them. Even as he tries to take every burden, there always seems to be something he misses, something he can’t keep away and it just leads to more pain and suffering.
But he’s trying. He’ll always try. Danny will keep any of his suffering silent just to keep them happy and away from all the troubles in the world. Despite every hardship thrown at them, he’ll make sure he’s there to block the worst of it. Because no matter what, the world leads to one simple truth.
Danny phantom au where Vlad hates BOTH fenton parents for almost killing him?
Vlad stared down at the boy he'd just knocked out. His eyes were working just fine, but his brain didn't want to process what he was seeing.
It couldn't be.
It was.
Danny Fenton was a half ghost. Just like him.
Vlad sank down to the floor, then knelt next to the boy. This was real. This was true. This... this changed everything.
He wasn't alone anymore. He wasn't alone anymore because those two blasted-- chocolate-covered-- those two bumbling morons had done it again! He wasn't alone, and his companion in misery was the son of the ones who had done this to him in the first place.
He was stunned. He was disgusted. He was fascinated.
Which left him a question: What should he do?
He had a plan for this weekend. He'd had a plan. He was going to humiliate Jack and Maddie. Frame them for stealing from him and assaulting him and his guests. It would barely be framing them, at that. They'd stolen his health, his youth, and his humanity. Turning on the portal so carelessly when he was standing there, inspecting it, might as well have been assault.
He had to admit, he hadn't even thought about their children. He'd assumed they'd be more of the same. Arrogant, careless, blind little monsters that would only benefit from spending a few years in government care. Considering the way Jack and Maddie had behaved in college, removing children from their care was nothing less than a public service.
Today, the children had seemed... not like that, exactly. Not like that at all, really, although Vlad had paid them little enough attention beyond keeping up his genial facade. Not like Jack. Not like Maddie. Their own people. An obvious realization in retrospect, but...
A half ghost.
He wasn't sure if he should be delighted or furious. Both emotions certainly existed in his core, warring with one another.
He-- He wanted. He wanted this. Someone who knew. Someone who would understand. He hadn't wanted that person to be related to them, but...
In that moment, he decided. He could work with this.
He would have to scrap his current plants, which was its own kind of pain, but he could work with this. Jack and Maddie... They couldn't be good parents. For goodness' sake, they'd killed their son.
Just like they'd killed Vlad.
He'd have to do some legwork... Get the Fentons to trust him again, get them to put him down as a guardian for their children. Or at least Danny. Then, then he would expose them. For something they'd done or something they hadn't, it hardly mattered.
He'd have to do some legwork to repair his ghost half's poor first impression on Daniel, come to think of it. It shouldn't be too hard - some explanation about how this was his home and how he had reacted to a strange ghost in it should suffice, given how Phantom was rumored to be possessive and territorial over an entire city.
Yes, yes, that would work... He had a few days to put his plan into action. But first... He shouldn't leave the poor boy on the floor like this. He'd catch a cold.
He reached over and slid his arms around Daniel's shoulders and beneath his knees, picking him up easily. He was far too light, even considering his ghostly nature. Did his parents feed him? No, he thought, sneering, Jack and Maddie wouldn't have the time, with all their oh-so-important research in the way.
Now, which of the guest bedrooms had he put the boy in, anyway?
