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erm by family_staralternate_emailknighthearts

posted 2 years ago, edited 2 years ago

back on my dark gray bullshit

dannyphantom danphantom darkdanny darkgray fanart futurevalerie futurevaleriegray humandanphantom valeriegray

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Wake-up CallBe-Be-Be-Beep! Be-Be-Be-Beep! Danny Fenton’s eyes shoot awake. He feels weirdly disoriented, but shakes off the feeling. What time was it..-? Oh god, no, he missed the school bus. He swears, tossing on clothes, and snagging his backpack, left right where it should’ve been. Daniel, what are you doing? What are you, stupid?! We missed the bus! He feels incredulity from himself as he goes about a rushed version of his routine. Not the first time Danny’s argued with himself, definitely won’t be the last. He wonders why Jazz didn’t come check on him and wake him up, but figures that she probably just had a rushed morning herself. What was he learning about in class? Whatever, he can ask Sam and Tucker once he gets to school- he’s glad they’ve never teased him too much about his swiss-cheese memory, like everyone else did. … D… Daniel, I’m not sure this is a good idea- I don’t think we have the wheel on this one, fruitloop… Hey, wait, how are you still here?! Danny rolls his eyes at his internal argument, the familiar rhythmic thump of his feet on the stairs a bit comforting. His parents are probably already down in the lab… He checks the fridge, and wrinkles his nose at the moldy food inside. Grooooss, did Dad (Jack?) improperly seal an ectoplasm sample? Ugh, ecto-contamination always has such weird effects, but at least the food didn’t attack him this time. “Bye, Mom, bye Dad!” He doesn’t wait for a response as he bolts out of the door. … Ah. Ohh my god, can you guys shut up for once, we’re busy! Sheesh! Fine! Go to school, see what I care! That response is puzzling, but whatever. If he’s late to class, Mr. Lancer will embarrass him in front of EVERYONE. Danny sets out running towards the school. He goes through his classes feeling more invisible than usual. Weird. Not called on, not picked on, and… No Sam and Tucker to be found. He’s lucky that a substitute was in for Mr. Lancer… He wonders if the three are sick. Keep your head down today. What? Why. … Baxter has it out for you, or whatever. You should look for Valerie once school lets out. Valerie?! Like- Paulina’s friend, Valerie!? That’ll just paint more of a target on our back! She’ll probably be more willing to listen than you think. He could feel the lie from himself, and it makes him uneasy. If that part knows, then why didn’t he just yank the wheel from him? He’s done it before, when he remembers something a different part of himself doesn’t. He supposes that he’ll just have to find Valerie after school. “Hey, Valerie-” She’s in the library, doing her homework, and nearly leaps out of her skin when he speaks up, whipping around, and- WHAT. WHY DOES SHE HAVE GHOST HUNTING GEAR. (An expensive suit-type, too…) Why is she pointing it at HIM?! “Stay back!” Danny raises his hands in surrender, absently wondering why he’s in his hazmat suit. “Uh. Th… That only works on ghosts, you know.” Even through the tinted visor, he can feel a familiar look of contempt and confusion from her, the one people always give him when he’s forgotten something important. “… Yeah? That’s the point. Have you been following me?!” “What?! No! Just- things have been weird today, I don’t know where Sam or Tuck or Jazz is, and you’re like, my last option for figuring out what’s happening. When’d you even get into ghost hunting, I thought you didn’t believe in them..???” Your plan blows, me. Yeah, you’ll hate it more in a second. Valerie lowers her gun, and pulls off her hood, frowning and squinting at him. “Have... you looked in a mirror today?” “… No? I woke up late, and missed the bus. Didn’t have time to get ready besides throwing on clothes over my… hazmat suit, apparently. Dunno how I fell asleep in that.” Her lips press together, tight, her brows furrowed. “… You should… probably sit down.” Danny sweats. Oh, no. This is a really big thing he forgot. He can feel the memory pressing against his mind, loud, demanding, despairing, bigger than anything he’s ever forgotten before, but he tries to squish it. He cannot have what’ll probably be a meltdown in front of the hot, popular girl, who’s a ghost hunter now for some reason. She sits back down in her seat, rummaging in her bag for something. “God, Phantom, I knew you had bad memory, but this is-” He looks away, embarrassed. “I-it’s Fenton. You don’t have to rub it in. People only have that look on their face if you forget something big.” She pauses, her cool brown eyes carefully appraising him. “… Promise me you won’t go on a killing spree, or whatever.” “Wh- huh??? Why would I do that?! HOW would I do that??” “Just-” “Yeah, yeah, fine, I promise.” She takes the thing she grabbed, a compact, and opens it so he can see the mirror. He frowns, looking at it. His eyes are an unnatural green and red, his black hair looking almost made of fire, and he’s… glowing. He looks carefully at his hand, seeing the soft light of the library lamps pass through it. “Oh.” His heart sinks, and he feels cold. He’s dead. Now will you listen? … Yeah. Finally. I’m not sure why you didn’t just tell him. Because he wouldn’t listen, obviously. Okay. You accessing the memory right now is a bad idea, cause the hair CAN set stuff on fire, and Valerie will freak if that happens. But… Okay, we became a half ghost ages ago and protected Amity Park for a while until our family and friends and Lancer died. We reached a truce with our archnemesis and went to stay with him, and then we got him to remove our ghost half, and then we removed HIS ghost half and assimilated him, because we didn’t trust him. … And we died? … Yeah. You know… That does explain the whole vampire vibe that our parts didn’t have before. HA! Ugh. Danny laughs weakly, slumping onto the table. “Well, I guess that explains why no one even noticed me today.” “Mmmhm.” Valerie shuts her compact, putting it back in her bag. She’s still tense, but… not aggressive. After a moment, Danny pulls a face. “Eugh. That means the mold in the fridge wasn’t ectoplasm contamination, just real mold. Gross.” She’s blinks, but laughs softly. “Yeah, you were piiiissed when you showed up to your house again and half the school was partying there.” He raises an eyebrow. “Well, if what little information I gleaned is right, of COURSE I would’ve been. Lemme guess, it was Dash’s idea.” “The one and only.” “Ugh. Even when I’m already dead, he wants to keep harassing me.” Valerie laughs- an actual genuine laugh, as she relaxes. “Yeah, I went to make sure no ghost bullshit would kill anyone.” “Thank god, if they had screwed with anything in the lab, they could’ve seriously gotten hurt.” “… Speaking of which… You look different than when you showed back up.” Danny lifts his head a bit from the table, puzzled. “I do?” “… Yknow, makes sense you wouldn’t remember, if you forgot about the whole being dead thing. Yeah, though. Your skin was green, and your eyes were just red, and your ears were pointy, and you straight up had white fire instead of fire-adjacent hair.” “Freaky.” Hey! “… Actually, I bet that was a different part of me that had more memories which looked like that.” “Makes sense, you look less harrowed than him.” Danny giggles weakly, before pushing himself from the table, and offering Valerie his hand to shake. “Thanks, Valerie. For letting me know.” She pauses, but shakes his hand. “Yeah…” “Looking forward to hunting ghosts with you!” “Hey, wait, I didn’t agree to a team-up- HEY!” She scowls as the specter disappears. “Ugh… The nerve of that guy.” Danny can feel himself fading, after turning invisible and intangible, climbs his way to the school roof, switching off his ghostly abilities as he lays on the flat surface. He raises his hand to sky, watching the light filter through it, and quietly marveling as he watches his suit slowly invert in color. … So, what now? Well, we have forever- we can do whatever we want. … Whatever we want that doesn’t involve being alive. The unnamed ghost scoffs, now that he’s in control of their form. “Being alive is for chumps, Vlad.”