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A large chunk of the Phandom: *frothing at the mouth over DPxDC and tagging*

Me: If y'all focused half the energy you have spent whining into learning to filter tags properly the problem would be solved. Just filter out DPxDC if you don't want to see it. 🙄

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My dude, you have an F in Algebra. You have no room to talk.

sorry lazy saturday post but im sick af

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Getting BAMF butler Danny vibes. Like, trained by Alfred in more than just housekeeping. 😎

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If it wasn't a kids show they could have had Danny End Dan with a Ghostly Wail. Then we wouldn't have this problem.

DCxDP rant.

I don't care. Dan is grown ass man to me. He is not "UwU smol bean" that is an adult man who knew what the fuck he was doing. Yes, he was grieving and he is no longer human. But I hate seeing him turning a baby.

Not to mention turning into a Vlad x Danny child. Which I will say again and I don't care how you view it because these are MY VIEWS is gross. After all, Danny is a MINOR. I don't care if you age him up after because it's still gross.

Why can't he be an awful adult man who can drink, smoke and curse. I love him being redeemed but not good. I don't need him reborn or memory wiped.

I like him being bad, it's hot!

I'm an adult. I like adults being adults!

Danny and Dani are still babies though. That's okay.

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This is amazing! 😂

While reading your posts I have got a new idea: Damian being interested in Sam, who is already dating Danny. Awkwardness and "Fighting for her honor" ensue

Damian: Fenton! I challenge you to a duel for the lady's hand-

Sam: There will be no dueling for my hand because I am not a prize to be won. I do not belong to anyone. How dare you?

Damian:

Danny: This is actually kind of cute

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I'm Still Here

And I want a moment to be real

Wanna touch things I don't feel

Wanna hold on and feel I belong

And how can the world want me to change?

They're the ones that stay the same

They can't see me but I'm still here!

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You forgot Danny Phantom.

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This is fucking epic. The perfect song for Danny.

That being said, the portal is not really his grave so much as the site of his death. A person's grave is where they are buried or memorialized.

🟣🚀 SPACE KIDS on comets, born to ride show me where LEGENDS go to DIE 💀🟢

i spend a lot of time thinking about how often this kid hangs out at his grave. was going to make just a lil gif but the power of mega mango songs possessed me 👻

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I need more! 🤣

#FromAFicYouShouldWrite!

Bruce: What do you want from me!? Are you here to make me suffer more? To show me the weakness of my humanity? Are you the physical proof of my failures to deny sin?!

Danny: I'm literally just standing here, man. I haven't done anything.

Bruce: Then stop wearing my butler's face!

Danny: Look, dude, I don't care what mental breakdown you're going through. Schedule it for three a.m., like the rest of us. I'm just looking for Alfred Pennyworth. According to my adoptive parents, he is my biological father, and he might have an answer to a medical problem I'm going through.

Bruce: No! Alfred can't be your dad!

Danny: Why not?

Bruce: He just can't!

Alfred: Master Bruce, you are sixteen. You're old enough not to be threatened by another child being mine. Cease this jealousy at once.

Bruce in French: It's not jealousy. It's puberty.

Alfred also in French: I beg your pardon?

Bruce crying French: He's so hot Alfred and I didn't know he looks exactly like you at that age. I basically dreamed of kissing you in the moonlight.

Danny in french: Again. Mental breakdown needs to be rescheduled. So you're my father. I thought you would be taller.

Bruce: *Screams of anguish* HE SPEAKS FRENCH.

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Sam and her friends only had to cry and worry for a day before the truth came out. The Manson fortune, it seemed, was in Ida's name and she had put a stop to her children's foolishness. They would stay in Amity until Sam graduated or be disinherited, end of story.

Naturally, the four teens were elated, but still made plans to attend Gotham University together. Who knows, maybe the boys could even land a scholarship. Well, Danny might, anyway. Tucker would never live down the three D's he got Freshman year. That he hadn't failed Algebra was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet, though they were getting a happy ending in Amity, Team Phantom were still wary. Gotham was known for its criminal activity, and only Clockwork knew what its shadows held in store...

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Tax Brackets

Samantha Manson didn't have the best relationship with her parents. Not that she hated them or that they mistreated her, but they were constantly butting heads. They had an idea of what they wanted their daughter to be like, and Sam always fell short.

She won't surrender who she was just to make them happy, but sometimes, when she watched the way Danny's parents supported him, or when Tucker's mother gave her son complete attention when he spoke of his interest, she was tempted.

How would it feel to have her parents be proud of her? To smile when she showed off an outfit or listen to her passions? How could Danny and Tucker not see how lucky they were?

Sam loved her parents, but she also hated being around them. It was hard to put into words- the way she would die for them and avoid them at all costs. The air was always thick with tension around them, as they watched her every word, just so they could get through one conversation without someone snapping, and yet still they found some way to "fix" her.

Her room was her only safe space in the whole house. It was the one place her parents didn't bother to touch or change, even if they went into it to try to convince her to change her ways. Her mother made a habit of waking her with a dress that she had seen one of her friend's daughters wear, and thought This one will be the one to show Sammy-kins the light or some other nonsense.

Sam always made adjustments to the dresses, painting them black, cutting off the frills, and sometimes just accessorizing correctly, but she never threw them out. Perhaps it was sentimental of her; maybe she wanted to keep the gifts her mother had given her, or maybe she just liked watching her mother's face when she "fixed" the dress in the same way the older woman had wanted to fix her.

It was hard to say.

Even harder to defend when Danny and Tucker were at her house, looking through her closet, and finding all the dresses. Her friends started to spend more time at her place whenever she knew her parents wouldn't be home.

Of course, she asked for permission, but she made sure to time it with events they couldn't afford to miss. Her family was wealthy, but they were very much new money, and they needed connections, although establishing them with the other rich families was challenging, given their generations of experience managing their funds. Despite being comfortable in life due to her grandfather's invention, it was apparent that the family's wealth wouldn't last long.

Sam's parents depended on their rental properties. Neither bothered to work a nine-to-five job; instead, they merely bought houses and storefronts throughout Amity Park and rented them out to their new neighbors.

There was a reason Sam was able to hide her wealth.

When her parents moved to Amity Park, it was because they wanted to find a place that was affordable enough to buy multiple properties, yet still populated enough that it wouldn't be difficult to find renters. The family still received royalties from the deli toothpick cellophane-twirling device, but that would one day become obsolete, especially with the rapid advancements in technology.

It was their financial advisors who saw the end of their wealth in the future if they didn't act fast.

Her parents settled with a fixed budget, moving to Amity Park and ensuring the family's wealth grew if they lived as upper-middle-class, compared to the way they were both brought up, i.e., the ultra-rich.

Sam was only in the second grade, so she didn't really feel the shift from the two classes, but her parents certainly did. They couldn't do too much to the outside of their home, but they made up for it by making the inside so lavish. While inside the Manson home, they could pretend they were spending millions and millions as they once had, instead of staring worryingly at the number in their bank account.

Personally, Sam thought they were fine. It's not like they were anywhere near in danger of being homeless or even stressed about money, but her parents didn't see it that way. Sam and Grandma Ida weren't raised like them, where they had enough to be comfortable, not worry about being poor, but never at the bottom of the ultra-rich barrel.

Her mother and father had fallen from that tax bracket, and it killed them inside. The rentals in Amity Park would save them, that's what her father claimed; Sam only had to endure a few years of this lifestyle before they could reestablish a healthy cash flow and return to the ultra-rich.

Sam always rolled her eyes, thinking it was all too dramatic. Her life wasn't hard. In fact, it was one of the best in the entire zip code. She never had to worry about bills like Danny, never had to count coins for things like Tucker, never had to watch everything fall apart like Valerie, and she certainly never had to work a day in her life.

Then, the summer right before senior year arrived, and her parents burst into her room, carrying a new outfit they wanted her to wear. This time, she couldn't make adjustments. The reason?

It was a school uniform.

Sam's parents had finally saved enough money to escape Amity Park, the middle of nowhere. They had secured an investment with a few minor companies that were generating much-needed cash, and they had expanded their rental properties to three other states.

They were finally in the upper tax bracket that they had both been in during their childhood.

Jeremy's eyes were sparkling as he watched Sam pinch the cloth between her fingers as if it were something foul. "I was able to get you into Gotham Academy for your senior year. Only the wealthiest of children attend there. It's a dream come true!"

"Your dream," Sam hissed, throwing the uniform onto her bed. "I don't want some stupid snobby rich kid school. All my friends attend Casper High, and it's my senior year! This is when high school actually gets fun."

"Sammy-kins, Casper High was only meant to be temporary. You will be going to Gotham Academy, or you can forget your trust fund," her mother warned in that same no-nonsense tone of hers. It was the one Sam heard whenever she got a cold, and her mother panicked, hiring an entire medical staff team.

Sam doesn't think she will be able to outstubborn the woman on this.

"Oh come on, Mom, don't be so dramatic-" Sam starts only to have her mother cut her off with a hiss from behind her teeth. Jeremy wisely stepped away from his wife and daughter, giving them some space but not leaving the room.

"Do you know what I wouldn't have given to be allowed an education of this level? At an institution like this?" Pamela's eyes watered slightly with bitter tears. Sam froze at the sight of them. "My Father didn't believe women had a right to study, Samantha. It was literally tied into my trust fund that if I chose any higher education, I would be out on the streets. I didn't have the chance. You have this chance."

Pamela picks up the uniform, holding it out to Sam, one feminist to another, painted in different shades but sisters in arms all the same. "You're going to Gotham Academy."

Sam swallowed, taking the uniform with a shaking hand. "Okay, Mom. For you."

She rages, and sobs, and crashes when they leave her room. So many emotions swirling around her mind, but she was unable to let them out. After a while, she can't take it and rushes out of the house, riding her motorbike to Danny's place.

She texted her best friends to ask for emotional support outside her house, and within ten minutes, both agreed to meet. She doesn't pay mind to the movers - apparently, her parents weren't going to give her a warning that they were leaving Amitly Park that very week - but she does have to stop every little bit to wipe her eyes.

When she gets close enough to Fenton Works, she stops a bit to let the neon sign glow on her for a few seconds, realizing she won't see it for a very long time. Not if her parents have any say.

They had always wanted to forget they had to resort to this little town, but to Sam, this was her home, her upbringing. Her two best friends in the whole world were here. All her trials and triumphs, all her petty rivalries and endless memories.

All of it was right here in this small city.

She would be gone by Saturday if her father were to be believed. She only had three days left.

She knocked on the Fenton front door with tears slipping down her face. Jazz, who was visiting from college, opened it with a smile, but the second she registered Sam's devastation, the older woman dragged her into a hug without comment.

Two summers ago, when Danny and she broke up, Jazz had done the same thing. She might have been Danny's sister, but she was also Sam's friend, and despite the two being avoiding each other after a nasty breakup, Sam had missed her best friend like a lost limb.

Jazz had been the one to take her to get ice cream, the one who chatted softly about people just not working out romantically, and Jazz had been the one to help Sam mend the bridge between her and Danny.

Now it was Jazz that held her and promised to make her senior year great, even if Jazz was at Gotham U instead of Gotham Academy.

"On the plus side," Jazz joked after brushing Sam's hair out of her eyes, cuddling up together on the couch. Danny and Tucker had been attracted by the noise, both now sitting on the floor near Sam's feet. "You'll likely have a Wayne in your year. Free eye candy."

"Yeah, Tim Drake-Wayne, that boy could hit it," Danny jokes, patting Sam's feet. His eyes are red from his own tears, but his smile is still the same boyish, shy grin that attracted her attention all those years ago. "Maybe you can turn him Goth?"

"If you do, you've got to send me pictures," Tucker adds, placing his head on the couch cushion. "I bet it would be hilarious. In fact, I'll see that in person. How far is Gotham anyway? We could do some road trips whenever we get a chance."

"Great idea, Tuck!" Danny beams, turning to his sister, "Can we crash at your place when we get up there?"

"Of course. Just as long as you're okay sleeping on an air mattress in my one-room apartment."

Sam's world was falling apart, but at least she had her friends as a safety net; no matter what tax bracket she was in, they would always treat her as Sam and nothing else.

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I have to comment on this thread because I weigh 150 pounds. Y'all are calling him tiny, but 180 is not as tiny as you think.

Dead on Main Omegaverse

Jason is having a brothers day out with Dick. The once a month they let the other in on their inner most thoughts.

“So any thoughts of dating?” Dick asked, setting a beer in front of Jason before sitting with his own.

Jason snorts, “An alpha wouldn’t want me.”

“Come on Little Wing,” Dick insists, “a traditional alpha would like the fact you cook and take care of kids well. A non traditional alpha would love your independence and resourcefulness. What’s not to like about you!”

“No alpha wants an omega that can break them in half.”

900 miles away Danny Fenton sits at Nasty Burger with his friends. He was the only alpha in Amity Park that weighed 180 pounds soaking wet.

“Look, there might be someone outside of this small town that likes small alphas,” Sam tries to point out.

“Yeah,” Tucker backs her up, “statistically you’ll find a better match in a global city like New York or Gotham.”

“I did qualify for a Gotham U scholarship,” Danny says. Tucker grasps Danny’s shoulder and shakes it while Sam slaps the table excitedly.

“See!” She exclaims, “already looking at the bright side! We’ll help you pack, set up a dating profile, and plan rogue attack escape routes.”

“Oh! And catch you up to speed on the bats—”

Danny smiled sadly as his friends talked about to do lists and must haves. He’s grateful for them but he knows that there’s no omega out there that would want an alpha they could push over with their pinkie.

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My Brother's Keeper

I've noticed an interesting pattern when it comes to Jazz Fenton in DP fan fiction. If the story involves Jack and Maddie being bad parents, Jazz is often said to be off at college. Usually because her being away is necessary for the plot.

However, I feel this is out of character for her, particularly if she knows Danny's secret. I write her differently in my own (unreleased) story. Danny is everything to her, and she will sacrifice whatever it takes to keep him safe, and if possible, happy.

More importantly, she would absolutely refuse to move out unless the parents knew Danny's secret and had very clearly accepted him. Such as in one story I saw, where she was away at the store or something when they attacked him. When she was finally reunited with Danny (safe, on the Watchtower) she clung to him, refusing to leave again.

Jazz and Danny don't always get along, of course, but they still love each other. And Jazz would do anything for her little brother.

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@dannyphantomlover this is super clever!

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Alfred is the GOAT.

Ghost of a Chance

Gotham was not a city known for its kindness. Rain slicked the alleyways like a second skin, and shadows crept where sunlight dared not linger. Alfred Pennyworth had seen a great many things in this city. Muggers, monsters, and masked madmen were just part of the nightly routine. What he hadn't expected, however, was to be saved by a ghost.

Or something very much like one.

It was supposed to be a quick errand—a quiet evening walk to clear his head. But halfway down Burnside, three desperate men with more bravado than brains cornered him. Alfred had been ready to disarm the first and disable the second, but he never got the chance. A blur of white and black swooped in, accompanied by the distant, bone-deep hum of unnatural power. The muggers were down in seconds—one frozen to the wall, another knocked out cold, and the third suspended midair by a glowing hand that flickered green.

The boy was there and gone just as fast. Alfred barely had time to register the tattered hoodie, the hollow cheeks, the white hair and green eyes that didn’t seem quite human.

"Wait—!" Alfred had called, but the boy was already gone, melting into the shadows like smoke.

The encounter would’ve ended there—just another strange chapter in Gotham’s nightbook—if it hadn’t kept happening.

Twice more, the mysterious young man appeared. Once to stop a purse snatcher near the theater. Another time to drag a lost child out of a crumbling building during a fire. Always fast, always silent. Always gone before Alfred could properly speak to him.

And always too thin.

It was the kind of thin that spoke of long nights without food. Hollow cheeks, knobby elbows, a belt cinched too tight around jeans that barely stayed up. It reminded Alfred of the early days—of Dick, of Jason, of Tim, of Damian. Of boys who had learned to survive instead of live.

Alfred Pennyworth had a rule: no one went hungry on his watch.

And so began his campaign.

At first, it was subtle. A wrapped sandwich left behind after one of the ghost-boy’s heroic appearances. A thermos of hot tea left conveniently near a rooftop perch. A backpack, clean and durable, filled with protein bars and fresh socks. Most of it vanished, though Alfred never saw it happen.

Then came the note, scrawled in messy, tired handwriting:

“Thanks. You didn’t have to. I’m not sticking around though. It’s safer for you if I don’t.”

The next day, Alfred left a response tucked in the same spot:

“You are not a danger, young man. I’ve seen far worse, and fed far worse. If you insist on continuing your streak of rooftop chivalry, I insist you do so on a full stomach.”

He added a slice of quiche. It was gone by morning.

Bruce raised an eyebrow the first time he caught Alfred baking two loaves of banana bread instead of one. Tim said nothing when the supply order mysteriously included a half dozen extra protein shakes and thermal gloves in medium size. Damian made a snide comment—something about stray ghosts haunting the pantry—but Alfred didn’t dignify it with a reply.

Then came the night it changed.

A patrol gone wrong. Batman caught in a collapsing parking garage. The comms went dead. Nightwing was too far. Red Hood was tracking Penguin. The only one nearby—untraceable, unregistered, and undeniably powerful—was the boy Alfred had been feeding for weeks.

He left the beacon on the rooftop.

“Help him. Please. –A.P.”

Within minutes, Bruce stumbled through the Batcave entrance, soot-smudged and breathing, but alive. Behind him, almost hidden in the shadows, was the boy. White hair. Green eyes. Shivering slightly, but still on his feet.

“I didn’t do it for favors,” the boy said. His voice was hoarse, too young for his haunted face. “I just... couldn’t let him die.”

“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Which is precisely why the offer of dinner still stands.”

“…I shouldn’t.” But his eyes drifted toward the warm lights of the manor beyond the cave, toward the smell of fresh bread and something sweet baking in the oven.

“No one escapes me forever, dear boy,” Alfred said with a small smile. “Not even slippery ghosts.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. Then finally, like a candle burning out, he sagged.

“…Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Of course,” Alfred said, already turning toward the kitchen. “We’ll start with soup.”

Behind him, the boy whispered a name like an afterthought—like something long buried finally being said aloud.

“Danny. My name’s Danny.”

“Well then, Master Danny,” Alfred said, with the same fondness he reserved for all his wayward sons, “welcome home.”

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Oh my Ancients, he's so casually cute and handsome! You can see the eye bags but he's also happy with his space sweater. 🥰

I can't describe how much I love drawing him..

tee hee

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I have never seen this AU before. But the design of Danny's suit is awesome, especially the way they implemented his logo in a Clockwork-like design.

I know they said he's lonely, but I like to think there's a soft, aged voice in his head. It only speaks sporadically, and is often cryptic. But sometimes, when he needs it most, it hums and says

"Everything's fine. Everything's the way it's supposed to be."

[slides back in for a moment]

And with this, my first batch of commissions is thus complete! OvO

@kiinotasha This ones for yoU! Temporal in all his lonely glory~ god I missed drawing for various DP au’s ,and Danny Phantom in general tbh

in fact I got a couple of other pieces of Phan art in the works, including someone’s DP OC which just caught my eye and ran off with it, hello Madame Chérie

I haunt this phandom like a ghost.

[fades back out]

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Anyone Danny kneecaps had it coming 😂

Danny: Omg! It's you! I'm a huge fan of your work!

Kiteman: What? Really?

Danny: Yeah! Do you know how cool it is to meet someone who flies and rarely attacks civilians? I broke the Riddler's knee caps in your honor! Can I have your autograph?

Kiteman: Of course! Would you like a picture, too?

Danny: WOULD I!?

Bruce watching from a rooftop: Everyone move in on Kiteman once he finishes the meet and greet with his fan.

Damian: Why wait? He's completely distracted. This be the optimal time to take Kiteman down.

Bruce: I am not ruining this moment for him.

Damian: Why?

Bruce: The man's main weapon is a tribute to his dead son that Riddler killed. A kite. The last person to be as excited for his kites was said, son.

Damian: .....We shall wait.

Tim on com: Why wait when we have a perfect-

Damian: YOU LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE DRAKE LET HIM ENJOY THIS.

Duke: Are we just going to move on from the guy who said he broke the Riddler's knee caps?

Bruce: The question mark bitch had it coming.