#Daniel Fenton

[sunflower39]

3D + 1

[mikyapixie]

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝙶𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚙𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟺𝚝𝚑!!!

💚💚💚

[di-loves-coffee]

So, Waylon adopts Danny.

•—•~•—•Crocodile Dad•—•~•—•

Waylon wasn’t quite sure how he acquired a kid.

In fact, Waylon doesn’t even think he had actually chose himself to keep him. Instead he thinks that this kid chose him.

Right now, the small and skinny black-haired boy who’d inserted himself into his life was sat at the table his weapon’s engineer used to work. Tinkering at the bits and pieces scattered over the messy surface while Waylon himself hovered nearby.

“Are you sure that’s safe for you to be messing with kiddo?” The large, scaled man called to the boy, a hint of concern peeking through the southern twang in his accent. Elongating is ‘O’s and ‘E’s and ‘A’s.

“Yeah, it’s fine, I used to work on my parents experiments in their lab all the time,” The boy called back, and— unironically— it didn’t soothe his anxiety.

“That don’t make me feel any better squirt.”

“Well? Too bad.” This twig was going to be the cause of all Waylon’s fictitious gray hairs, he was calling it now.

Instead of lecturing the kid on safety, Waylon simply ruffled his hair with his large, clawed hands and left him to his devices.

[hoodedjelly]

Still Feel by Half Alive

(there is a second of flashing at the start was unsure if i should tag it or not, but this is the warning)

[youtube video link]

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #24

When Danny Fenton got into MIT, he thought the biggest challenge would be balancing ghost hunting with college coursework. What he didn’t expect was to impress Dr. Jane Freaking Foster—renowned astrophysicist, literal genius, the mind behind the Foster Theory, and, unbeknownst to her, his idol since age thirteen—during a campus science expo when he presented his thesis on interdimensional ectoplasmic lattice fluctuations as a potential fuel source for wormhole stabilization. He thought she’d walk by his booth with a polite smile. Instead, she paused, squinted at his equations, asked three rapid-fire questions, then turned to the MIT faculty and said, “Is this kid legally allowed to work in a government lab yet?”

That’s how he became her apprentice.

Danny thought it would be, you know, an internship. Fetch coffee, carry papers, maybe input data if he got lucky. What he didn’t expect was to be living in New Mexico three months later, standing on a roof beside Jane Foster while she casually pointed at the sky and said, “If this gravitational anomaly maintains its trajectory, we’ll have a Yggdrasil branch brush up against the heliopause by Tuesday. That’s new.”

Danny nodded, mostly pretending he understood.

What neither of them anticipated was Thor crashing into their lives again like a golden retriever with a god complex and a hammer. He landed dramatically during a research presentation, lightning still fizzing off his cape, and made such eye contact with Jane that the projector screen behind them shorted out.

And then he saw Danny.

“Young one!” Thor bellowed, eyes wide, blond hair tousled by divine winds, “You must be her son.”

Danny blinked. “I—what?”

“Of course!” Thor clasped his shoulder. “You have her radiant intellect and tenacity. Truly, you are worthy of Midgard’s finest mother.”

“I—she’s not—” Danny tried.

Thor turned to Jane, face alight. “You did not tell me you had borne a child! And one so strong in spirit! A scholar of the stars!”

Jane rubbed her temples. “Thor. He’s nineteen. I met him last month. He’s my apprentice. He is not my son.”

Thor shook his head gravely. “Say no more, Jane. I understand. You wished to protect him from the dangers of our past. But I vow upon Mjolnir’s handle, I shall be a father to him.”

“What the hell,” Danny muttered.

Over the next few days, things escalated fast.

Danny woke up one morning to find a goat outside the lab. A live goat. Wearing a ribbon. The tag read: For my brave son, may his mornings be strong of milk and noble of beard. Jane nearly choked on her cereal. Darcy screamed and immediately named the goat “Spacey.”

Thor showed up during Danny’s lecture on cosmic radiation and brought a sack of Asgardian textbooks written in glowing runes, which promptly caused two lab interns to faint and one professor to file a complaint.

Danny begged Jane to tell him this would stop.

“No,” Jane said, sipping her coffee without looking up. “You’re his emotional support stepson now.”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional support anything!” Danny cried. “I have ectoplasmic trauma and insomnia!”

But Thor persisted.

He invited Danny to spar in the desert, claiming it would “toughen his warrior instincts.” Danny blasted a crater in the sand when a ghost startled him mid-match, and Thor wept with pride. “Such fire! Truly, a son worthy of thunder.”

Jane sighed. “You’re going to give him a complex.”

“I already have a complex!” Danny yelled from where he was half-buried in sand.

Then came the night Thor pulled Danny aside with intense solemnity.

“Daniel,” he said, kneeling, “I seek your blessing.”

Danny froze, halfway through a sandwich. “I—what—blessing for what?”

“To court your mother.”

“She’s NOT my—!”

Thor raised a hand. “Please. I know you wish to protect her. But my heart is true. I have spent long hours learning Midgardian courtship. Observe.”

He pulled out a guitar. A guitar. From nowhere. And began strumming aggressively while singing off-key.

“Oh Jane, fairest in the stars, your eyes burn like a neutron quasaaaaaar—”

Danny screamed into his sandwich.

Jane screamed into her coffee.

Darcy recorded the entire thing.

By the time the Avengers got wind of what was happening, it was too late. Tony Stark showed up purely out of pettiness.

“So this is the ‘son,’ huh?” he said, looking Danny up and down like he was a new model of iPhone. “You do look like Jane. Same ‘don’t talk to me before coffee’ vibe. But with a sprinkle of sleep-deprived raccoon.”

Danny glared. “You must be the one Jane threatens to launch into orbit when she’s annoyed.”

“See? Family resemblance,” Tony muttered.

Then Steve Rogers took Thor aside and whispered, “Are you sure he’s her kid? Jane would’ve told us if she had a child.”

Thor nodded gravely. “It is the only explanation. He speaks with passion, has knowledge of the stars, and I saw him summon green fire from his hands!”

“It was a ghost, Thor,” Danny shouted from across the lab. “It was literally a ghost trying to possess a vending machine!”

“Exactly!” Thor beamed.

“Thor. I’m nineteen. Jane is thirty-seven.”

“She is a goddess among mortals. Perhaps she birthed you when she was five.”

“That’s not how—YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”

Soon, even Loki showed up, slinking into the lab with a smirk like a serpent in silk.

“I had to see for myself,” he purred, circling Danny like a shark. “The mortal child who ensnared my brother’s affections.”

Danny just blinked. “I’m not his kid. Or Jane’s. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”

Loki chuckled. “You’ll make an excellent prince. Do you have any interest in necromancy?”

“I’m a ghost half the time,” Danny deadpanned. “Define interest.”

Loki grinned wider.

Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D. got involved. Fury showed up, took one look at the scene—the goat eating research notes, Thor trying to build Danny a golden throne, Jane yelling about radiation levels, and Danny levitating out of sheer stress—and muttered, “Nope,” before turning around and leaving.

But beneath all the chaos, Danny… didn’t hate it.

Jane never treated him like a kid. She taught him everything, from solar flares to Bifrost trajectories. She let him make mistakes, then helped him fix them. She told him he was brilliant, and for once, he kind of believed it. And Thor, for all his thunderous confusion, brought him starfruit from Alfheim and carved him a wooden Mjolnir as a “coming-of-age” gift.

Danny didn’t even mind the goat anymore.

He still insisted, every day, that Jane was not his mom.

But when Thor presented him with a massive, hand-forged broadsword inscribed with: To my noble son, may your ghosts be vanquished and your GPA ever high, he kind of teared up.

A little.

One evening, as they watched the stars from the roof, Jane handed Danny a cup of tea.

“He really does think you’re my kid,” she said.

Danny took a sip. “Yeah. I gave up trying to convince him.”

“Is it weird?”

“Kinda. But… not bad.” He hesitated. “Do you… mind?”

Jane looked at him, surprised. “No. I mean—you’re not. But if you were, I’d be proud.”

Danny stared at the stars until they blurred.

Later, Thor appeared beside them, cape fluttering dramatically despite the lack of wind.

“I have returned with tales of valor,” he declared, “and also cheesecake.”

Danny took the box.

“Son!” Thor beamed.

Danny sighed.

“Fine. You can have my blessing.”

Thor dropped Mjolnir in joy.

Jane looked horrified. “Danny, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t say I wanted it to happen,” Danny muttered. “I just figured he’d stop bringing me swords if I gave in.”

“He won’t,” she said flatly.

He didn’t.

The next morning, Danny woke up to find a full set of Asgardian armor beside his bed and a note that read: For my beloved heir. P.S. I have begun planning the wedding. Do you think your mother would prefer swans or flaming eels as decoration?

He screamed into his pillow.

The goat screamed with him.

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: An itch...

MASTERPOST

As the CEO of Wayne Industries, Tim Drake has a responsibility to keep an eye on the competition. Which, for the most part, means meetings and galas and back-and-forth emails. Honestly, he doesn't even do that much personally due to the efforts of his secretary and other employees.

Though, reluctantly, Tim’s been keeping a very close eye on his newest… rival in the business. The Godson of one Vladimir Masters of Vladco; Daniel Fenton. The company photo of him was a worrying sight on its own, without considering how strange it was as the only photo Tim could find of the guy. No school photos, online presence, or signs of life other than his place as Masters godson and future owner of Vladco. The guy hadn’t made much noise, nothing big or worthy enough for Tim’s attention, and yet… well. Tim had an itch. A gut feeling.

So, he stalked researched Daniel’s life, compiled a too small file, and invited the boy and his guardian to a gala. Tim couldn’t say it was a good idea—it wasn’t even a fully formed idea by the time he hit send on the email to Vladco—but he found it better to be hasty than to find himself unprepared when shit hit the fan.

The first thing Tim noticed when the two arrived at the gala was Daniel's appearance. If Daniel had looked sickly in his Vladco photo, he looked dead in real life. The second thing he noticed were the hunched shoulders, the fisted hands, the lowered eyes, and the... fear that encompassed him as he was forced to stay by his godfather's side throughout the party.

Cass sent him a look and he nodded to show he was on the same page. If Tim didn't need her help to see it, either Daniel was bad at hiding it or too tired to try. Mind made up, he figured it was about time to talk to the recipients of his personal invitation.

As he approached, it didn't take long for Masters to notice him. Tim watched as he squeezed his godson's shoulder—too hard if the wince Daniel gave was any sign, though if Masters noticed, he didn't seem to care for any discomfort he caused. "Ah, if it isn't the CEO himself. A pleasure, Mr. Drake-Wayne. We thank you for the invitations, don't we, Daniel."

The words must have carried more weight than Tim knew of, for Daniel winced in blatant pain but forced himself to look up and nod at Tim anyway. It was a shaky thing; hardly a nod more than a harsh jerk of his head, and if Tim wasn't worried before, he was now.

"A pleasure indeed, Mr. Masters. I must admit I have some... ulterior motives for your invitations, if you don't mind me being so bold?" Tim laughed, lifting the drinks he'd brought from the catering and offering one to Masters.

Masters took it happily, though he didn't drink. "I am no stranger to boldness; after all, my Daniel is a spitfire of a boy. Do tell."

If the guy hadn't been standing right there looking like all of fifty pounds soaking wet and a wrong step away from finding out what a concussion is—though he may already have one—Tim might have thought Masters was talking of someone else.

Tim grinned nonetheless, giving a subtle signal behind his back where he knew two of his family were watching. "Fantastic! You see, I've been working on things behind the scenes of WI and... I wouldn't mind some of Vladco's particular expertise."

At this, Daniel's head shot up with a look of absolute horror, and Tim was startled back as he looked between them. Masters squeezed his shoulder again, a warning no doubt, and Daniel reluctantly looked away again. Masters laughed it off before Tim could even question, "Ah, don't mind him. He's been feeling unwell, is all."

Tim hummed, taking it as a chance to inspect Daniel without it being weird. The boy was haggard, his eyes were wide, and he seemed to be whispering to himself though Tim couldn't hear more than the air escaping his lips. "Maybe he should go sit down or get some water? This conversation would be better without... distractions, anyway."

Masters seemed reluctant, but with a look between the two, his hand lifted from Daniel's shoulder and with it some of the tension. "Go. Do not stray from my sight; I worry." Masters said, eyes narrow and voice a warning despite what Tim thought was supposed to be care.

They watched as Daniel walked away, shaky-footed and slow, but as soon as he made it to the catering table, Tim dove back into the conversation.

Slowly but surely as the conversation continued, Tim carried them further and further from Daniel, subsequently turning them so that Tim was facing the catering and Masters back was to it. Once Masters was fully turned away, Tim signaled the others.

Tim mentally apologized to Daniel for sicking his siblings on him when he was clearly sick, but he wasn't too sorry if it meant getting him away from what was clearly his abuser. Though... it felt too easy. The itch was back; had never really left.

Something was still wrong here.

[tired-all-the-time22]

Some Danny-Centered Observations from Season 1! (and a little from Season 2)

(all of these observations are being restated/pasted from my Extremely Long Danny Phantom Observation Masterdoc if anyone would like to check it out)

Danny likely usually takes the bus to school, as Jazz doesn't drive him often (but when she does later in S1E19 he comments he gets to avoid taking the bus)

Danny builds model rockets!

Danny also has a TV in his room!

Danny can (and often does) get caught up in his emotions to the point he doesn't notice his powers activating, or that he's been staring at someone (Daniel Fenton staring problem canon!!!)

- This is first evidenced in S1E1 (Mystery Meat) when he gets so frustrated/upset he doesn't notice himself sinking through the floor or walking through a vending machine - He also often stares at the people he likes/is interested in romantically -- so commonly that Sam actually comments on it in S1E11 (Fanning the Flames) as being a recognizable look on his face

Side note: this is something that Jazz also seems to do! However it seems to be more targeted towards those she's psychoanalyzing rather than anyone she likes romantically.

In-show, Danny is very often caught (or framed to be) doing things that would absolutely give him a reputation in school as a troublemaker/delinquent.

to name a few incidents: - Frequently broke school lab equipment (off-screen, pre-show) - Started a food fight (S1E1) - Wrecked the school therapist's office (ghost fight collateral, S1E9) - unnecessarily pulled a fire alarm (framed, also S1E9) - Beat up Valerie (unintentionally framed post-ghost fight, S2E4)

Tucker has Danny's ghost hunting patrols scheduled to end at 9PM

It's hard for him to eat when he's nervous/uneasy (stated in S1E3, One of A Kind)

Additionally, he has a 10PM curfew instated by his parents! (Which he is frequently late for, not for lack of trying)

Is self-proclaimedly good at dodgeball (stated offhand in S1E7 - Bitter Reunions)

Danny will also (unfortunately) frequently accept concerning/toxic behavior from people he wants to like and/or accept him

Some examples: - tries to look cool/chill in front of Dash even when Dash clearly is not happy with him even being there (S1E4, Attack of the Killer Garage Sale) - Also in S1E4, Danny smiles/is happy when being called over by Dash (even after Dash calls him names) - Allows Paulina to essentially use him to get to Phantom (S2E1 Memory Blank) - Also S2E1 post-Sam Desiree wish, after (from his perspective) finding out Sam seemingly stalked, stole, & doctored a photo of him and Tucker in order to edit herself in to be with him, he seems to actually become even more interested in her romantically, stating she must "really be into him"

On a lighter note, Danny often uses (or thinks of using) gift-giving as a way to express affection! (seen in S1E1 with giving Dorathea's amulet to Paulina, and then again in S1E11 when he thinks about giving her Fenton earphones as earrings)

His locker is next to the Band Room, across the hall from the stairs on the second floor of Casper High

Ending on a fun one: Danny gains fangs on his lower jaw for a second in S1E14 (Fright Knight) while he's fighting Fright Knight! (the exact timestamp is 18:00 for anyone interested :) )

[art-by-ari]

Please enjoy a rough-mock-comic-book-cover for DP I’ll most likely never finish but I’ll think about it if enough of you make me.

[strawhatyaa]

Almost forgot to post this here…trying to learn alight motion and I’m cooking more Danny phantom stuff trust hehehe🙏

[r7skt]

Yo Danny Fenton, he was just a.. bit of a weirdo

[bluerasbunny]

temper, daniel.

[sunflower39]

Posin’

[danny-phantom-x-reader]

What if, instead of danny getting hit by Ember's guitar it's the reader who becomes obsessed with danny

He would literally love that- I hope you like this:(

Danny's Version: Love Obsession

Everything happened so fast. One minute you were trying to help Danny catch Ember and the next thing you know a blue light hit you and you went unconscious. You could hear Danny's voice, but you couldn't wake up.

Danny quickly rushed to your side, creating a distraction for Ember to get away. He could hear her mocking laugher echo across the room, but he paid her no mind. "Y/n?" He pushed some of the hair out of your face, before stroking your cheek. "Y/n, wake up. Please." He begged, tears slowly starting to build.

The tears stopped when seeing you slowly open your eyes. He quickly hugs you, his arms tightly wrapping around you.

"Oh, Y/n I was so scared." He looks at you, finally getting a good look at you, only for confusion to overtake his face when seeing your lovesick face. "Y/n, are you okay?"

"You're so cute when you're confused, Danny," You slur inbetween giggles.

Your words cause Danny's face to erupt in a dark red. His eyes quickly scan the stadium, hoping to find Tucker or Sam to maybe figure out what was wrong with you but neither friend was in sight.

You pull his chin towards you, forcing him to look at you. "I could look at you all day... You're just so beautiful."

Don't get him wrong, Danny had always liked you, admittedly to much, but still. He knew that your words were being influenced by Ember's guitar and it would just be false hope for him to get sucked into the validation, no matter how nice it was to hear.

"That's great, because I think you're really pretty."

"Yeah?" You blush, getting up on your elbows, creating a near nonexistence distance between you and Danny. Your noses were nearly touching. "So... You love me too?"

"Excuse me?" He says with wide eyes, not knowing how else to respond. Thankfully you just giggle and fall limp into his arms.

---

Danny had tried getting you to his car, but you had attached yourself to his hip. You were like a koala with how you clung to his arm. Your pupils were dilated and never left Danny's figure. You didn't want to look away and him disappear.

"Danny?"

He looked at you, making your face turn a light pink. "Yeah?"

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" You tilt your head, a goofy smile on your face.

"Uh- No, I guess not."

"Well, I do..."

"I know."

---

Danny was thankful for his extra strength and all that ghost hunting, because walking with you was a breeze- Or at least easier than he thought it would be. Danny was thankful when he finally got you into the car. Though, now you were staring at him and it was making him nervous. He didn't necessarily mind your attention, but it was giving him anxiety.

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You sigh happily, leaning your chin on your hand.

He looks over at you, sheepishly smiling. "I like you, but do you think you can back up and look at you. I can't focus knowing that you're watching me."

You looked at him confused, "What? Why?"

"Well, with someone as beautiful as you, how can I possible put my attention on anything else when you're giving me yours."

"But you're so handsome and I like looking at you."

"Well, if you really like-"

"Love. I love you." You interrupted, offended that he would say 'like' when your feelings were much stronger.

"Right... Love." Danny knew it wasn't real, but was it really bad to enjoy this? To enjoy your love and affection? No- It couldn't be. This was a reward for all the people he's saved and the bad things that have happened to him. He was finally getting his good karma. "If you love me, you'll stop staring at me, as much as I love it, just until we get to your house.

You sigh, but ultimately listen to him and look out the window, giving Danny some privacy, but now his eyes were being drawn to you, much to his embarrassment. He knew you'd never liked a guy like him- Not without some love potion or spell, but was it bad for him to wish it was real? Your love was something he's always wanted and maybe he should take advantage of it...

---

"Alright Y/n," He sighs as he lays you down on your bed. "I'm going to help you."

"Help? What do you mean?"

He grabs your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes. "You are under Ember's spell. This," He gestures between you both. "isn't real."

"It's real to me," You say on the verge of tears and Danny is quick to backtrack.

"Of course it's real. But... It's not authentic?" He says it like a question, which just confuses you.

"So... Something's wrong with me?"

"What?" His face turns a dark red and he quickly shakes his head. "No, no. Of course not. Nothing could ever be wrong with you. You're perfect. The perfect girl."

"Really?"

"Of course." He smiles, but is distracted when hearing his phone ring. "It's Sam."

"Sam?" You grab his hand, causing him to look at you. You pull him onto the bed and you get on top of him, practically straddling him. He tries to sit up, but you push him up. "Why is Sam calling you? What you like her better or something?"

"What? No, no. I need her and Tucker to help you-"

"You keep saying that. Helping me. I don't need help."

"Yes you do, whether you realize it or not," He then pushes you to the side of the bed so he can get up and grab his phone.

"Why call anyone? Why can't we just keep living like this?"

"Oh, Y/n. You would be pissed if I did anything without you realizing it."

"Why can't you just accept that I love you?"

"Because it's not real... I just wish you'd stop saying it, cause I hate hearing it... You don't mean it." Danny frowns, dialing the phone back and you don't respond back.

---

"Okay, Y/n, you've got to snap out of it."

"Snap out of what?"

Tucker frowns at his best friend, before gesturing around your room that was covered in pictures of Y/n.

"What? Most guys would kill for a girl to like looking at him."

"Y/n it's creepy."

"Is it? If I had pictures of you, would that be creepy?"

He thinks about it for a second before making a face of 'Well- Maybe you've got a point.'

"Besides, what's creepy about being in love?"

Tucker looks back at Danny, "Do you really want her to stop being like this? I mean..." He puts his hands up, "She's obsessed with you. That's every man's dream."

"It's not real. If she meant it, it'd be different." Danny gets up from his seat and shakes your shoulders, "Snap out of it!"

"Danny, stop shaking her!" Tucker pulls Danny off. "Maybe, if we destroy Ember's guitar, Y/n will go back to normal."

"Ember? Who's Ember?"

Tucker pulls out a poster from his backpack, "This is Ember. The girl who made you like this." He points to a time and date at the bottom of the poster. "And she has a show tonight."

---

Danny glares at the blue-haired lady, not paying much attention to the fans around him. They were all being controlled by her music, but he cared more about the fact that she had taken control over Y/n. He loved Y/n, but he wanted her love for him to be authentic, not fake.

"Where's Danny?"

Tucker looks over at you wide eyed. If you saw Danny, you would cling to him and ruin the whole plan. Tucker puts his hand on your biceps, "Uh, I think I saw him go this way," And then he leads you off.

Danny looks at some of the equipment before getting the bright idea to climb them to get a better chance at getting Ember. When he reaches the top, he looks over the crowd, surprised to see you and Tucker so close.

As if you could sense his eyes, you look up to see Danny, before calling to him. Though, Tucker is quick to hush you up, so Ember doesn't hear. But it was too late, because Ember looked up and smirked when seeing Danny.

Danny is quick to dodge her attack and begins to fight her. Neither side was winning and you couldn't help but feel guilty that you weren't helping. You grabbed Tucker's bag and pulled out a ghost weapon, a crossbow, before aiming it and hitting Ember's arm. It caused Ember to yell and Danny to get a shot at her, but she was still too strong for it to hurt her.

Thankfully, Sam was the only one who wasn't under any influence and grabbed Tucker and pushed him on the stage and told him to sing. His singing was so bad that it ended up breaking the spell everyone was under.

You looked around confused, like everyone else, before you saw Danny and Ember fighting. You look around, before finding a ghost capsule and yelling Danny's name, before throwing it to him and he quickly captures her.

---

"What even happened?"

Danny laughs, "Nothing... Really."

"Well, whatever I did, it must have been bad. I feel like I did something bad-"

You open your bedroom door, only for your face to turn a bright red when seeing the walls covered with photos of Danny. "What the fu-"

"Yeah... Uh, you did that."

"Why are there photos of you everywhere?"

"It's a long story. Uh, short version? You were under a love spell."

"Great. Well, whatever I did, I hope it doesn't ruin our friendship."

"A ghost could never make me stop caring about you." Danny tells you, causing you to blush.

"That's good to hear, because it seems that I went crazy."

"Yeah, but I kind of liked the attention, especially from you."

You sheepishly smile, before entering your room, "Well, I better get started on removing these photos. Thank you, Danny. Seriously. For putting up with me."

"It was nothing. Truly."

You close your door, before sighing and leaning on your door. You start to take the photos down, some weirding you out, because where did you get the photos?

After hours of doing that, when you get on the final few, you decide to leave the last one up, because it was a good photo and you wouldn't mind looking at Danny...

[di-loves-coffee]

Putting off my french work sooo here!!

•~•—•~•—•~•

John Constantine in Amity Park because he heard rumors of a demon loose who was being called Phantom: This place is sodding bullocks. How contaminated can one place get???

Danny walking down the street happy as a lark and not aware he isn’t masking his more ghosty attributes: —Just humming I guess??—

John: OH GOOD GODS THE LAD’S POSSESSED. HOW DID HE MANAGE TO FIND AN’ GET POSSESSED BY SOME ELDRITCH BASTARD

Danny: Oblivious.

[vr-trash]

small collection of more fenton and co

(featuring eli's timmy & jimmy designs ; @hoodedjelly)

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #23

The day started like any other in the Ghost Zone: tense, glowing, and humming with the promise of disaster. Danny had only popped by Clockwork’s tower to ask a simple question—something about paradox prevention or whatever—and definitely didn’t mean to touch the ancient, glowing relic perched delicately atop a cursed pedestal of time-forgotten sorrow and screaming. But he did. He touched it. And then everything exploded in green light and dramatic violin music (which might have been in his head).

And just like that, Danny Fenton was five years old again. Five. Chubby-cheeked, wide-eyed, pint-sized kindergarten-age with all the raw ghost powers of his seventeen-year-old self packed into a body no taller than three feet of chaos. Worse, he remembered everything—every awkward high school moment, every near-death experience, every ghost fight, every existential meltdown.

“Clockwork!” Danny shrieked, his voice now horrifyingly high-pitched and squeaky. “What the actual hell?!”

“Language, Daniel,” Clockwork said in the maddeningly serene way only a time god could manage, waving his staff with an infuriating smirk. “Consider this a learning experience.”

“I hate learning! Learning’s for school and people who don’t get turned into toddlers by rogue hourglasses!”

But Clockwork only chuckled like this was all going according to some elaborate cosmic lesson plan. Probably because it was. He vanished mid-scolding, leaving Danny alone in the tower, stomping around in his little sneakers and throwing ghost-powered tantrums that cracked the marble tiles.

Which is when the floor opened.

To be clear, Danny did not jump into the swirling blue portal. He fell. He fell dramatically with limbs flailing and an undignified scream that would later be blamed on the wind. The portal spit him out in the middle of what could only be described as a cathedral on steroids: tall golden columns, floating runes, and people in robes glaring like he’d farted during a funeral.

He crash-landed on a silk-draped table in front of the actual gods.

“…Ow,” Danny groaned, blinking up at a very tall, very unimpressed man with a horned crown and cheekbones so sharp they could cut reality.

The man frowned. “Why is there a child in the royal seidr sanctum?”

“I didn’t mean to be here! I touched a stupid relic and now I’m five and I fell through a portal and—wait, are you Loki?”

There was a pause. “Yes.”

“Cool. Love your work. Big fan. Please don’t murder me.”

Loki blinked. “…What?”

Then the child burst into blue flames and hovered six inches off the table, sparking with ghost energy like an angry firecracker. Everyone screamed. A robed man passed out. Someone wet themselves. Loki, to his credit, looked intrigued.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, circling the small floating menace. “You’re not of Midgard, are you?”

“I’m Danny from Earth, actually! I’m from Illinois! I’m just—also—kind of a half-ghost and currently five and possibly stuck like this forever!”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You’re an abomination of magic.”

“Thank you?”

“I like you.”

“No thanks?”

But Loki had already scooped him up like some cursed kitten that wandered into his life. Danny screamed the whole way down the palace corridors, zapping walls, guards, and an unfortunate tapestry depicting Odin’s triumphs. Loki just looked delighted. Like this was the best pet he’d ever found. Like this was revenge against Thor just by existing.

“You are now Dánjal Lokison,” Loki declared.

“I AM NOT—STOP—PUT ME DOWN—”

“I shall raise you in my image.”

“I already have a dad and he’s stupid but he’s mine—put me down or I will scream and explode and possess your furniture!”

“You’ll fit in perfectly.”

Thus began the unholy saga of Danny Fenton, age five, accidentally adopted by the God of Mischief and forced into Asgardian nobility under duress. It was, somehow, not even the weirdest thing to happen that month.

Loki dressed him in child-sized black leather and tiny green cloaks. He taught him how to chant spells in Elder Seidr, how to bend illusions with his hands, and how to summon fire with a thought. Danny, in retaliation, taught Loki about Earth cartoons, fart jokes, and TikTok dances. It was a two-way cultural exchange of chaos and regret.

“I’m telling you,” Danny said one day while floating upside down and eating apples he stole from the royal garden, “if you say ‘We’re going ghost’ and then transform, it’s at least thirty percent more dramatic.”

“That’s idiotic,” Loki replied, watching as Danny exploded into white light and ghost form, now slightly glowing with new magic enhancements.

“You’re just jealous I sparkle when I fight.”

“I do not sparkle.”

“You sparkle on the inside.”

“Stop talking.”

“Dánjal Lokison, feared child warlock of the Nine Realms,” Thor once declared when he saw the tiny menace casually phasing through walls and summoning frost giants to play tag.

“DON’T NAME ME THAT,” Danny screeched, blasting Thor into a wall. Loki applauded from the doorway.

“Good aim, my son.”

“I’M NOT—STOP CALLING ME THAT!”

But Danny was starting to enjoy the magic lessons. Seidr wasn’t like ghost powers. It was older, wilder, sometimes alive. Loki was a surprisingly good teacher—equal parts unhinged chaos and genuine brilliance. He explained the threads of fate like they were spider webs and taught Danny how to pull on them without being noticed. He spoke about illusion like it was poetry and destruction like it was art.

Danny, in turn, taught Loki to prank Thor using invisible slime bombs and existentially disturbing hand puppets that whispered secrets in Old Norse.

They became a problem.

Every time the Avengers tried to contact Asgard, they were met with grainy magical holograms of a tiny child in a green cape flipping them off while floating upside down on a summoned ghost-storm cloud.

“Tony Stark looks like a soggy crouton!” Danny shouted once.

“And smells like cheap cologne,” Loki added.

“High five, evil dad!”

“High five, tiny curse.”

Eventually, Odin tried to intervene.

“This child is not of Asgard,” the All-Father declared.

“I’m not trying to be!” Danny yelled. “Please take me back to Earth! I miss McNuggets and not wearing robes!”

“He’s mine now,” Loki said, summoning a massive magical contract written in fire and Loki’s own blood. “Legally and spiritually bound. I did the adoption ritual and everything. It involved a screaming goat.”

“I HATE THAT GOAT,” Danny screamed.

“I love that goat,” Loki sighed.

“You’re both mentally unstable,” Odin muttered, rubbing his temples.

Danny was eventually granted limited “portal privileges,” which meant he could sneak back to Earth and terrorize his friends while still technically being a Lokison. Sam and Tucker didn’t even question the fact that he was a child again. Jazz just nodded like this was expected and handed him a juice box.

“Have you emotionally bonded with your captor yet?” she asked.

“I am not bonding with Loki!” Danny snapped.

“You call him ‘evil dad’ and wear his colors.”

“THAT’S NOT A BOND, IT’S A THREAT DISPLAY!”

Back in Asgard, Danny practiced summoning tiny void rifts, which Loki encouraged.

“Good,” he said, sipping wine as the rifts swallowed another fruit bowl. “Let the darkness consume you.”

“I just wanted an orange.”

“Even better.”

Eventually, Danny grew attached. It was subtle. A twitch of the lip when Loki conjured birthday cupcakes with green fire. A soft “thanks” when Loki wordlessly cleaned his scraped knees with glowing runes. A quiet night where Danny fell asleep reading next to Loki and didn’t wake up until morning curled in a pile of fur cloaks and dark magic.

“Do you miss being big?” Loki asked one night, watching the child version of his adopted problem-child sketch battle plans in crayon.

“Sometimes,” Danny said. “But…this isn’t bad. Just weird. You’re weird.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Take what I can get.”

Loki never asked too much. He didn’t push Danny to call him ‘Dad’ or act like anything other than the feral little ghost-child he was. But he was there—smirking through tantrums, snarking through training, protecting Danny like a dragon hoards gold.

So when some ambitious frost giant tried to kidnap “the ghostling Lokison,” they were met with a five-year-old banshee of death wielding seidr, ghost rays, and an unholy screech that shattered icebergs.

And behind him, Loki arrived in a storm of green fire and fury.

“Touch my son again,” he said, “and I will erase your ancestors from the time stream.”

“I’M STILL NOT YOUR—wait, okay yeah, get him.”

They were a nightmare pair. A chaos duo. A tiny tornado of destruction and his too-proud magic tutor/father/roommate/menace.

Eventually, Danny stood in front of a new portal, Clockwork hovering beside him with his usual smug patience.

“You’re ready to go back,” Clockwork said. “To your age. To your world.”

Danny glanced over his shoulder. Loki stood there with his arms folded, expression unreadable but eyes a little too bright.

“I’ll come visit,” Danny said, voice small but steady.

“You’d better,” Loki replied, voice quiet and sharp as always.

There was a long pause.

“Bye… evil dad.”

“Goodbye, Dánjal.”

Danny turned. The portal shimmered. His small form stepped through, glowing with ghost light and seidr and something else—something new.

Back home, he hit the ground as a seventeen-year-old again. Taller. Older. But he still wore green.

In his pocket, a rune carved with love.

He never said he liked being a Lokison.

Though he’ll never stop using the name.