mynameisdannyfenton

[mynameisdannyfenton]

DC + DP

Danny helped people. That was what he did. He protected others. That was his job. he ignored the little voice in his head that dreamed of visiting the stars. He did his job well. But it never ended.

"Help us," people screamed at him after they'd shot at him, and he did. They never said thank you. Not one. He helped them nonetheless.

"Help us," the ancients asked him after ignoring his place on the throne for years. After they pretended he wasn't worthy because he was still alive. (at least part of him was.)

"Help us," his friends asked as they applied to colleges. Colleges he'd dreamed of attending, colleges they promised they'd go to together. But he stayed behind, because people needed him.

"help us,' the newly dead begged, uncertain and lost. Just like him, unguided and stuck, wanting to move on. They did, moving forward. Danny remained behind tethered and lost.

"Help us," the GIW begged when the ghosts tried to declare war. Danny did, saving those who cut him open. There was peace once again. Still no one thanked him

"Help us," and Danny did. He helped. he didn't protect, he'd solved all their problems. Now he sheltered them, the little boy who dreamed of the stars stopped dreaming. Some days he'd dream. Not often.

Today was one of the few days, Danny was sitting watching, space was silent, Danny liked that. He was alone with the stars, the stars he'd reached but could never be his. Like something just out of reach on a shelf. Right there, your fingers brushing it but never close enough for you to grab it.

Danny wasn't held back by gravity but by people. By a job he never signed up for. A job he wished he could quit. Couldn't he though? wasn't it just a matter of saying no?

His thoughts were halted by the jerk of a summons. I'll say no this time, he decides. He arrives and waits there's a silence. And suddenly someone bows, others follow suit.

To him. The Ghost Boy. The fake king. The Halfa, a freak of nature. The boy who'd dreamed of the stars.

"High king phantom of the infinite realms," they began. And Danny stares. High King, he'd never been called that before, never with such respect. So he stares, at the man who looks like a wind could blow him over. With a name from the pits of hell and the magic to match it.

"Hellblazer," he whispers the name of rumors. The man startles surprised at being recognized. Danny studies them, he's waiting for them to say it. Demand it as every other has.

"We'd like to negotiate a deal," The hellblazer speaks with such confidence and Danny freezes. This isn't how it goes. This isn't how it works. People don't make deals deals, bargains, agreements, with Danny. They simply make demands of him.

"What do you want?" he asks already bored, waiting for the ridiculous request.

"Well we've tried everything," this time it's a man dressed in complete black who speaks, with a horned cowl, "But we can't defeat them so we were wondering if you could help?" he asks gruffly.

"Who?" he asks quietly.

"Darkside," the name is unfamiliar to Danny but the way the Hellblazer says it. "In return we're willing to offer a soul, or anything else you desire."

Danny stared at them in shock. A deal. They offered a deal, offering a soul for him to defeat a villain they'd tried to defeat,]. They were scared, terrified even. They ddin't tell him to help them. Didn't demand it. He didn't need a soul though.

He didn't need anything, but for once he didn't want to say no. ahe wanted something though. "A home," he speaks first, "A place to stay in this dimension," he specifies just incase.

"Thank you," the Hellblazer breaths, then holds out his hand. "Deal," he offers looking tired and relieved but a bit worried. Danny smiles wearily.

"Deal," he breathes, and magic fills the room, an oath, a binding one. "Guess I'll deal with your problem now?"

"I guess?" the hellblazer smiles and Danny leaves.

--

John doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do, the king is powerful, it hangs around him, heavy and soft. When he said deal though the room broke. The magic latched onto his and John didn't know what to say. It was gentle, powerful, and terrifying.

He left without a word, simply vanishing, but he was doing what he'd said, and now it was there turn. Guess he was going house shopping? "We need to fulfill our end of the-" he begans only to be interrupted.

"Done," Batman stares out the window in frustration. "It's by Fawcet so we have one hero constantly monitoring them."

"Why you don't trust him?" John asks sarcastically but the bat nods utterly deadpan..

"Besides they have the most heroes besides gotham," he says easily, "Gotham is cursed, and metropolis has too big a population to be risked."

The rest of the league doesn't argue with his logic the they look amused. "Let's just watch the fight," he grumbles seeing their expresions.

they do so without complaint and the fight is.... horrifying. the king is hardly trying, and Darkside is already down. The king stares him down with those toxic green eyes of his and smiles.

when he starts talking though is when John's blood runs cold. his voice is like ice, nothing like the whispery tone he'd taken with them, it's cruel and dark and angry.

"Help you?" he laughs, "why should I?" the king laughs. "I help people, when they ask nicely, I help people who say please and thank you," he scoffs. "Most don't."

There's a crunching of bones that makes John almost hurl. Or he would if he hadn't forgotten to eat lunch again. "Besides you should know already, I don't like killers, so have fun!" they grin as they wave and suddenly darkside is gone, all that is left is destruction. "

"Hello," the king greets them calmly and John shudders at the sight of him.

"We found a home," John says with as much confidence as he can. "Here's the address," the king smiles, it's surprisingly human.

"Thank you!" the king smiles at him as he passed and John remembers his comment about manners.

"You're welcome," he stutters as the king leaves again.

--

Danny stares at the house with wide eyes, it's large, warm and homey, in a rundown part of the city so he's less likely to be bothered. He smiles softly, until he remembers the fight.

Danny had lost his temper, but the way he said it. "Help me," an order, like he actually expected Danny to listen. Like he expected Danny to just obey. Danny was sick of that, he wanted to live. Wasn't that okay?

He didn't need to obey others, he wore a crown, a mockery of one but it's power was the same even if the title was mocking. He ruled the realms, every detizen had to obey him. He didn't use the power but still... he had the power.

Still he went overboard, he'd thrown him to the realms to be treating, certain that Frostbite would help. He finds a kept on the door, magic practically coating it, metallic and recognizable.

He smiles softly, the hellblazer wasn't who demons painted him out to be.

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Danny’s (Un)Deadly Detour

Danny Fenton should have known better.

Gotham was not a pit stop for casual road trips. It was the kind of city that screamed “keep driving,” especially for someone with Fenton Luck™. But he’d needed gas, a snack, and maybe a picture of Wayne Tower for Jazz. What he hadn’t needed? To get kidnapped by a clown on bath salts.

But here he was. Tied to a rickety metal chair in the middle of an abandoned amusement park, with cameras pointed at him from every angle. And the Joker—the actual Joker—was monologuing.

Again.

“…and this, my sweet little roaches of Gotham, is what happens when you wander into my city without a sense of humor!” the Joker cackled, his voice sharp and jittery as he zoomed in on Danny’s blank, deadpan face. “Let’s see what the Bat thinks of this fresh-faced nobody!”

Danny sighed. Loudly. “You know, if you’re gonna monologue, can I at least get popcorn? By the way the name is Danny.”

“Rude!” the Joker snapped, flinging a pie at him. Danny let it hit. Custard wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d dealt with today.

But the worst was yet to come.

Joker danced over to a second chair—this one wheeled in by a henchman—and with dramatic flair, yanked the bag off the second hostage.

It was Robin.

Not Nightwing, not Red Hood—nope, the angriest of them all. The one with the sword that had to be taught not to kill.

Robin’s sword was gone, but the glare on his face could cut through steel. “You will regret this,” he snarled.

“Ohohoho!” Joker shrieked with glee. “Isn’t this just delicious! A no-name civilian and Gotham’s pint-sized prodigy! Let’s spice things up, shall we?”

He pulled a lever, and both chairs were suddenly suspended above a vat of glowing green chemicals.

Danny blinked. “You have to be kidding me. That’s actual toxic goo? Like, cliché supervillain-grade?”

“It’s authentic!” Joker sang. “You’re welcome!”

A signal light flashed. Batman was watching the stream.

“Here’s the game, Batsy,” Joker said to the camera, eyes manic. “You choose! Robin, your precious brat—or the poor, sweet innocent who made the mistake of existing in Gotham. Pick one to save. Or I drop them both.”

Robin scowled but said nothing. Batman’s voice came through a speaker—low, angry, calculating. He was trying to buy time. “Let them both go, Joker. This won’t end well for you.”

“Oh, I know, Bats,” Joker giggled. “That’s what makes it fun!”

Danny, meanwhile, had had enough. He rolled his shoulders slightly. The ropes weren’t great—they were tight, but not ghost-proof. And he really didn’t want to risk Robin getting hurt.

Danny exhaled. “Welp. Time to Fenton this up.”

Before anyone could stop him, he broke free of his restraints with a loud snap, flipped forward—and let himself fall into the vat of chemicals.

“DANNY!” Robin shouted, jerking in his bonds.

Even the Joker stared in stunned silence. “Did… did he just—did he really—?”

Batman’s voice cut in, alarmed. “No!”

The vat bubbled.

The camera zoomed in.

The feed went black.

Joker didn’t have long to process the shock. A cold wind whooshed through the funhouse, flickering lights and rattling metal. The shadows stretched too long, too thin.

“Wha—what is this?!” he hissed, looking around. “Where’s my laugh track?!”

Then, behind him: a voice.

“I died,” it said, whispery and echoing, “because of you.”

The Joker spun—and froze.

Floating in midair, eyes glowing toxic green, was a white-haired, fanged apparition. Phantom. Danny. And he looked pissed.

“You killed me,” Danny intoned, letting the lights flicker with every word. “You wanted a show. I hope you enjoyed it.”

Joker stumbled backward, babbling nonsense. “N-no—this isn’t—there’s no such thing as ghosts—!”

Danny opened his mouth and let out a low, haunting wail—enough to shake the floorboards and rattle the Joker’s bones.

The clown's eyes rolled up into his head, and with a pitiful whimper, he collapsed in a heap.

…and soiled himself.

Five minutes later, Batman burst in through the skylight. Robin was already free, sword in hand, glaring down at the unconscious Joker.

“What happened?” Batman demanded.

Robin looked up. “He jumped in. Broke the feed. Then came back as a ghost and scared Joker into unconsciousness.”

Danny floated down behind them and shrugged. “It was either that or listen to another twenty minutes of his monologue. No offense, but your rogue gallery sucks.”

Batman stared at him.

“…You’re a ghost.”

Danny gave a lazy salute. “Half ghost, technically. Long story. Want some popcorn?”

Robin, for the record, was still annoyed. “You could have warned me before pretending to die in front of me!”

Danny grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Moral of the story: Never road trip through Gotham. Especially not with Fenton luck.

[mynameisdannyfenton]

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Idk if anybody's done this but in case they havent, I propose a slight AU! Calling it Necrolepsy for now. Like narcolepsy but pun.

Danny Phantom but its like Aang going to the avatar state and he leaves his body behind when he has to go ghost.

If his body is moved and he doesnt know, he can't 'resurrect' until he finds it.

His body is by all appearances dead when he's outside of it and WILL begin decomposing if he's out being a ghost for too long. Little incidents figuring that out have healed over and stacked so he's hitting the joint issues and generalized body aches concerningly early.

Amityville developing an urban legend of finding a dead body that always has the exact same description. Danny's parents are convinced that its either a residual haunting or a grief-feeding demon but its an ongoing debate in the household. ("A demon would have preferences in targets! The sightings are always reported by randos." "Residuals don't move around, Jack. They're memories haunting places." "Maybe it's haunting a car! Those move around.")

Danny has a few times where someone finds his body and stays with it until someone picks it up. He can go get it from the morgue but it's a hassle getting himself back out again and he has to hang out invisibly to wait until the morgue is empty cuz the one time he didn't and left it alone to go handle ghost shit he almost got fucking embalmed and uuuuuugh....

Decided to risk leaving his body in bed. It was fine while his family understood it as a Teenager Crash Nap until Jack joked that someone should check for signs of life. Jazz actually did and realized 'actually oh shit baby brother is NOT breathing'. hopital. This is how the almost-embalming happened.

After Jazz finds out she helps Danny cover, same as usual.

Sam has way too much fun giving Danny's body mock-funerals when she watches it. Tucker just puts a controller in his lap and plays games against the computer. If they both are on bodywatch duty it turns into weekend at bernies

Danny has ditched his body in class. Amityville high dont even know theres a corpse in the room

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Danny finds a new nap spot. Natives are worried.

Ever since Danny became a Halfa, his house hasn't been the safest place to rest at. Its filled with his parents experiments and automatic weaponry and hasn't felt like home for a while. He feels bad having to sleep at Tucker's place and Sam's parents don't really like him but he needs to rest somewhere.

Cue the Ocean 0.0

He hasn't needed to breathe in a long time and having a secondary source of energy for his core would lessen the amount of food he needed to eat.

It's massive and mysterious and he can explore it until his core is satisfied. The sun makes such nice warm spots perfect for naping and with Clockworks help he can make it there in almost no time.

With his parents spending most of the evening and night in their lab or outside the house, he can spend most of his night sleeping there and with a semi-regular sleep schedule at that.

No one even notices hes gone.

The Atlantians sure know hes there though.

Granted they don't notice he's there at first. He finds the perfect space to sleep and doesn't move until its time to go to the surface, but when they notice. They Notice .

Brave researchers acompanied by soldiers try to collect samples of hair and scale and maybe even blood but come up with little to nothing. While they can touch the being, any attempt to remove anything leads to it slipping through their fingers like the water that surounds them.

The only good thing is that the creature seems to be peaceful, only sleeping and then leaving. (where he leaves to, no one knows. They aren't sure they even want to know)

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Yesterday I broke my favorite mug, and one of the other inhabitants of my household found a new one in the cupboard. IT WAS MY LEGO MUG. it was a sign, at this point I’m just bouncing between fandoms cause I don’t want to force myself to draw something I’m not into.

Also I tried rewatching Ninjago, but 1-2 are just impossible to rewatch. 3-10 though are amazing.

[mynameisdannyfenton]

this is kind of messy but that's okay 💫

[mynameisdannyfenton]

🩷⭐️

[mynameisdannyfenton]

[mynameisdannyfenton]

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Wow it's not an lbm fanart

Some others:

[mynameisdannyfenton]

hey guys

[mynameisdannyfenton]

DPxDC Ask Around in the Morgue

Most times, Tim is not a fan of social interaction. If he can acquire the necessary data from literally anything written in text, without the need to actually talk to people, he does that. It's the logical thing to do, come on! People lie, or, even if they don't, they take ages to get to the point, and you can't put them on pause or set aside to return later. Some written resources lie as well, but that is, at least, way easier to prove by relying on several of them instead of a single one.

That saying, he can work in a team — Young Justice is great proof of that. Batfamily, not so much, but then, none of the Bats like working together. Because they are all hypercontrolling, manipulative, and paranoid.

And yet, keeping all that in mind, right now Tim is about to go and speak — using his mouth and words — to a GCPD mortician whom he's never seen or met before in his life.

All because of this report.

More precisely, because of the line 'pls come talk to me if u r a bat' that was inserted right into the file, just between the description of contents of the victim's stomach and the rather unappealing photo of the same thing. Tim supposes the placement was intentional — most people skip over that kind of information, jumping straight to the cause of death. Which is a homicide, by the way.

Not that it's anything unusual in Gotham.

Tim walks through the hallway, keeping his steps silent. Daniel Nightingale, the mortician, more accurately a pathologist, works graveyard shifts — very ironic and no less convenient — and most days, he does so all alone, so Tim is not expecting company. He is just keeping quiet out of habit.

And yet, as he gets closer to the autopsy room, he hears it. The chipper, amused voice from inside.

"You can't just make that shit up, I swear," it laughs, "Oh, Minerva. You were way too old to pull it off." There's a pause, and then it starts speaking again, filled with hidden laughter, "You don't say?"

The door is, thankfully, already half-open. Tim takes a quick look inside, hoping to figure out who's the other part of the alleged conversation, but the only person there — erm, the only alive person — is a guy in a gray uniform and a lab coat. Supposedly, Mr. Nightingale. There's also a corpse of an old lady on the table in front of him, of course, but Tim doubts she can hold up the conversation. A phone call? Or maybe he's just talking to himself?..

The guy raises his head briefly, turning to the door.

"Come on in, lurking in the shadows doesn't suit you," he calls, almost cheerful, and Tim pauses.

He's pretty sure he hasn't made a single noise.

Oh, well. Maybe he did. Maybe the pathologist has an alarm system in case of a zombie apocalypse. Maybe he sees the future. The possibilities are endless.

Tim steps inside.

"I'm here about your note," he says, cutting the greetings and niceties. The pathologist hums, his eyes still on the bare, skinless ribcage of the woman before him.

"Cool. Which one?" He asks without missing a beat. Tim stares; the guy looks entirely too nonchalant, given the circumstances, but that's not the only reason. Daniel Nightingale is way younger than Tim expected — twenty, at most — and he is... well, if Tim had a type, which he doesn't, he would definitely check all the boxes. Most of the boxes. A lot of boxes.

Okay, he's just good-looking, what is he even thinking about, this is getting sidetracked.

"There was more than one?" He asks because that's the logical, reasonable thing to ask. Daniel glances up at him. A tiny strand of hair escapes his pinned down bangs, and the guy huffs, shaking it away from his face. Shouldn't he be wearing a hat?

"Yeah, I put the bat alert in at least five reports I've written. Only two recently, though, so, if you could specify?" He asks. The loose strand of his hair moves all on its own, brushing itself up over Daniel's head. Then, one of the bobby pins comes out, hanging in the air briefly, and goes back into Daniel's hair, securing it from falling again. "Thank you, Minerva," the guy smiles politely, casting a glance to the side.

Tim is not sure what's going on but he has a hunch.

"I'm speaking about John Doe from last week?" He attempts, but Daniel only hums.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't narrow it down," he turns back to the table, looking down into the old lady's open abdomen with a critical eye. "Darling, do you think you'll be fine here all on your own while I speak with our dear guest?" He asks, almost demurely, and Tim is not dumb. Minerva is definitely the name of the lady on the autopsy table. The question is, has the GCPD hired a schizophrenic man during such dire times, or is the guy really some kind of ghost-whisperer?

The chances are, honestly speaking, 50/50. It's Gotham.

There's no response that Tim can hear, but Daniel straightens back up and takes off his gloves before turning to the other side, still away from Tim. "Mind cleaning up?" He asks again and then throws his gloves into the nearest bin. They don't land, but just as Daniel huffs and goes to retrieve them, the gloves float up from the floor like someone invisible picked them up and dropped them into the bin.

"Ah, thank you, Minerva," the pathologist smiles.

Tim feels an uncomfortable chill run down his spine.

"How many ghosts are in here?" He tries for casual, but fails spectacularly, judging by Daniel's chuckle.

"Five," he answers without any pause, "Six, if you count the nonverbal kid that's hiding in Page's cold locker. Anyway, John Doe?.."

A few of the instruments Daniel has used float up from the table and start moving towards the nearest sink.

Tim takes a deep breath.

Either he's gotten himself a new contact in GCPD forensics or a very alarming new meta. 50/50.

But Daniel's smile is 100 percent going to be a pain in his ass.

[mynameisdannyfenton]

Dannymay day 4 - Eyes

Tumblr hates me and does NOT want me to upload this and idk why :( why does the fps keep getting fucked up 😭

[mynameisdannyfenton]

I haven’t drawn Fanart in (what feels like) ages - soooo here’s Danny Phantom fanart 👀 (I always wanted to draw Danny Phantom fanart and I really like how it turned out)

[mynameisdannyfenton]

A silly grayghost identity reveal for dannymay day 13 truth!

[mynameisdannyfenton]

DC + DP

Danny was dead, but he wasn't and it felt wrong. It made him feel out of place in life, his family smiled at him. They loved him, and Danny knew, he knew if they ever found out his secret they'd hate him.

But they might not and he hated that more, he hated the fact that if he told them the truth it might not change anything. That maybe just maybe they'd love him the same. He didn't think they would though, he was pretty sure they'd hate him. And if they didn't...

Well they wouldn't accept him, it would be terse smiles, while they pretended it wasn't true. While they preteneded he was the same as ever.

So he kept his silence, and instead he was the one with a wooden smile pretending to be fine. pretending they'd accept him if he told them the truth.

Things had changed, they no longer hunted Phantom, no longer spat their hatred of ghosts. They'd been proven wrong after he'd taken the throne. Still he knew they didn't like ghosts.

They still made comments, about their lack of love, lack of humanity. How they weren't sapient, or some other nonsense. So he smiled, and pretended everything was fine. It wasn't but he'd been pretending for years at this point.

He told them before college, he knew it was cowardly, telling them before he left, so he could run, and not return. So he could escape. They didn't scream, just stared at him with confusion, with loss. Danny was counting down the days till he could get out.

They didn't reject him, they smiled, and laughed but everything was different. Except him, he was the same, he'd just stopped lying. He left days after with bags he'd packed days ago and a goodbye that was rushed.

Then he was gone, moving into a dorm that stank like mold, a community kitchen that didn't have the right utensils, and with showers far too small. It was a freedom of sorts.

He met his roommate, Jason was tall, gruff, the classic football jock, who also happened to be a lititure nerd, gods he was like Mr. Lancers Child. swearing on pride and prejudice and all. it was honestly so cute.

Right, did Danny mention he was hot, and smart, and like really hot? Yeah, well he was, and Danny may be smitten? Because he baked for him! Baked! Cookies tarts pies, he'd wake up and it would be on their shoddy dorm table. Or he'd get gifts, he was so sweet.

Danny wasn't to be outdone. He’d fix Jason’s gear, guns and coms. Making whatever Jason needed. Be it fixing his laptop so he could finish his English essay or super villain weapons.

The only problem was the bats. Ugh they kept interfering, lecturing him about helping crime bosses and other nonsense. Like what did they expect him to do, let his boyfriend go out there without the best stuff? hell no.

He didn't tell Jason, but they kept finding his labs, like they were in the sewers, no one went in the sewers! why were they finding him? He huffed as he lugged the gear, he had to move again! the light one, shiny one? tall guy with curly hair? And the yellow uniform? yeah Danny couldn't remember his name but he'd found his base again!

He sighed grumpily, Grundy waved to him as he passed and Danny smiled at his fellow undead. This time he thought he lay a trap, for the bats. He huffed before grining, damn them and their lectures, if he trapped them they'd think better than to mess with him!

Due to his plan it took him a few extra hours to set up his lab, and putting glow in the dark stars on the ceiling but come on those were a must.

It took almost two weeks before the Bats found him, predictable they fell right into his trap, and right into the realms. Jason would be so proud of him, he'd dealt with them, besides he could release them whenever so they weren't dead or something! Not that being dead was bad, he was dead and he thought it was rather comfortable.

He portaled led to the apartment, Jason greeted him with a wave, and Danny grinned. "Hi!" he greeted cheerily.

Jason looked at him dead pan. "What did you do Danny?" he asked deadpan.

Danny pouted. "Nothing," he whined dramatically.

"Darling please just tell me?" Jason offers and Danny folds at the pet name.

"Fine, well you know how the bats keep finding my labs!" Danny grimaces at the thought. "Well I trapped them!"

"Where?" Jason asks though he's unable to hide a smile.

"The realms duh!" Danny grins.

"Danny, normal humans can't survive in the realms, let them out!" Jason explains still with a slight smile on his face.

"But!" Danny protests.

"No, Danny!" Jason scolds.

"Fine," with a snap of Danny's finger two bats are sent tumbling onto the floor, Danny startles, "Shit your mask!" But it's to late.

"Little wing?" Nightwing croaks.

---

I'm sorry, anyhow been a while since I did this ship, tbh I'm more into Dan/Jason right now but dead on main is a classic. Also I'm a sucker for the nickname Darling, or love, ect.

Bye!