#phanart for phanfics

[proudsnackeezowner]

Space phil and ground control dan finished! This is based on the fic I read a while ago, Never Fade Away by @parentaladvisorybullshitcontent ! Which I discovered through a rec list from @tarotphil ! It's a super cute, pretty short fic and I totally recommend!

(Click for much better quality jesus)

[karcutie]

"Watch out dude, I think there's a g-g-g-ghost behind you!"

Illustration for the new chapter

[serendipnpipity]

Life's a game, wanna play? | Game of Life AU

(bc you can't tell me even robotics engineer!Phil and pop-star-turned-app-developer!Dan wouldn't somehow find their way to each other)

[thesilentbard]

Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Artwork by: @ventisettestars​ Characters: Danny Fenton, Fenton Family (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: cosmic horror, deep water, Scopophobia, Drowning Mention, Cryptids, Underwater Exploration, Ghost Stories, Danny decides to go exploring alone in a random town, he makes it out mostly unscathed, cozy horror, i think i can tag that Summary: The town of Blackwell didn’t exist. At least, that’s what everyone in Eben’s Field says to Danny’s family when they show up to the small Appalachian town for a ghost hunting trip. While Danny’s parents set up camp beside the lake where Blackwell once stood, Danny decides to sate his curiosity. On the night of a full moon, Danny dives into Eben Lake’s depths to explore the last building standing at the bottom—an old greenhouse. After all, no one else had heard the music coming from the waters.

~~~

I had so, so much fun working on this fic for Ecto-Implosion! The wonderful @ventisettestars​ created the amazing artwork that inspired the story. I hope I was able to capture the otherworldly feeling this piece gives in my writing.

You can see more artwork under their art tag.

[whereonceiwasfire]

Had an absolute BLAST working with @cookietastic for the Ecto-Implosion event. Like! Their art! Look at it! Stunning! 10/10 would recommend staring at it all day long!

Where did this mysterious, (adorable), anonymous gift come from? Who left it in Danny's locker? Whoever it was must KNOW he's Phantom, right? Should he be worried?

The answers to these questions (and more) can be found within the goofy, comedy, mystery fic I wrote for Cookie's incredible fanart (further chapters to be uploaded through posting week).

[ghoulysaphomet]

Quick merdanny doodle to accompany my fic Longing Oceandeep on ao3

[phantom-margaritas]

Mondays were swiftly becoming Erik's least favorite at the Rosy Hours, not due to the noisy crowds, but because Christine never visited on her day off. Besides, she had mentioned plans to visit her fiancé’s family, not that he paid much attention to that conversation. No, not at all. Despite this, he managed to endure yet another Monday, especially after ushering out the lingering patrons who clamored for one last drink. It was now 2 a.m., and he was nearly done cleaning out his station for the night when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Draping the dish towel over his shoulder, he brushed his hands off before fishing out his phone.

It was a text from Meg Giry, and that in itself caused Erik to raise an eyebrow; she rarely sent him anything aside from random, silly videos that reminded her of him. Meg was a former waitress at the Rosy Hours, having joined at the age of eighteen to earn some extra cash to spend in college. Their personalities clashed rather often, but they grew to understand each other near the end of Meg’s stay. Moreover, he needed to thank her, as it was Meg who introduced the Rosy Hours to Christine in the first place. 

Meg Giry

Hey Erik, Christine’s heading your way. She’s not doing too good. I tried to persuade her to stay with me but she refused. Please take good care of her.

Well, if he was confused then, he was concerned now. Christine? Out by herself? At this hour? How is she going to get here? The subway? No, the last train must’ve left by now. Walking? Out of the question, the streets at night are not safe for women. Driving? It’s dangerous to drive when one’s distraught.

Tossing the dish towel onto the counter, Erik raced into Nadir’s office. He grabbed his wool overcoat from the coat rack, shrugging it on as he made his way to the front door of Rosy Hours. Outside, snow continued to fall, and the blanket of white seemed to have deepened a few inches while he was indoors. Erik felt his stomach drop. Harsh weather and a volatile mood were a dangerous combination on the road—he knew that better than anyone. 

But then he remembered something else: Christine didn’t expect to see him outside, and he had no reason to be there other than to see her the moment she arrived. To appear nonchalant, he leaned against the pillar and started scrolling aimlessly through his phone, all the while stealing glances at the passing cars.

He didn’t have to wait long. An all too familiar car came to a stop across the street, and he dashed across the bricks and asphalt before the door even swung open. Hesitating for but a second, he bent down and knocked gently on the window.

“Christine?”

Through the glass, he watched as her shoulders tensed, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. Her head bowed, brown curls blocking her face. She was not looking in his direction at all. 

“Christine, are you alright? I— I’m concerned about you.”

At his words, her body slumped against the driver’s seat, her hands dropping from the steering wheel. Slowly, as if in a trance, she unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. But Erik was a step ahead, opening the door and holding it for her, his hand extended to offer assistance.

Grasping his hand, Christine stepped out of the vehicle, Erik shutting the door behind her. His hands had grown cold from standing in the snow, but what surprised him was that Christine’s hand felt just as icy. Giving her a once-over, he realized she was only wearing a turtleneck and jeans, with no jacket in sight. Without a word, he removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders. Then, wrapping an arm around her, he guided her across the street.

“Erik, what about you?” Christine asked, attempting to shrug off the coat, but the arm around her held the warm fabric snug against her.

“Don’t worry about me. What matters most right now is your well-being.” He replied, the two coming to a stop near the front porch of the bar. Under the entrance lighting, Erik could see Christine’s face much more clearly, including her flushed cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. This will not do. “My uh… my apartment is directly above the bar, and it should be warmer and more comfortable there. Just give me a moment to lock up, and then we can head upstairs.”

———

Erik learned more about Christine that night than he had in the past four months combined. 

As soon as they entered his apartment, he gently seated her on the sofa and went to the kitchen to prepare her usual drink, concerned that she might have gotten too cold outside. Holding a warm cocktail in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other, he sat down beside her and waited patiently until she was ready to talk about what had happened.

And oh did she talk. Before, she rarely spoke about her personal life, focusing mainly on their shared interests in theater and music. Now, she was telling him about how her father's music career influenced her, recounting his passing just before her high school graduation, and expressing her growing doubts about the opportunities she had received throughout her life. 

“Do you remember the modeling gig I got a few months ago? The one with that jewelry brand?”

“Of course. I saw the final poster in a metro station and other places around the city too. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Christine sniffed, fresh tears streaming down her face, “apparently Raoul’s older sister convinced them to hire me. They probably weren’t even going to move forward with me had she not persuaded them. Now I’m wondering if they were the ones that gave Carlotta’s role to me, and if that’s true, do I even deserve it? Maybe I never even had the necessary skills to perform in the first place!”

She was crying in earnest now. Her chest heaved with sobs, and Erik’s heart constricted at the sight of his love reduced to tears. His hand hovered in the air between them, and he wasn’t sure if he was about to cross some forbidden boundaries between a single bartender and an engaged actress, but soon he was cupping her face in his hands and thumbing away her tears, wrapping his arms around her and letting her cry on his shoulder, whispering how wonderful her voice, her acting— just how wonderful and perfect she is as a person. 

Eventually, perhaps it was out of pure exhaustion or the emotional toll or the tears, but by around half past four, Christine was sound asleep. Her head had somehow found its place in his lap, a few lingering tears rolling freely down the contours of her face. The confidence Erik once felt in embracing her had faded, and now his hand was once again hovering near her shoulder, unsure of what to do. Ayesha, who had been hiding in his bedroom from the presence of a stranger, finally decided to emerge, gazing up at Christine with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Shhhh.” Erik pressed a finger to his lips. “We wouldn’t want to disturb her rest now, darling. Would you do me a favor and keep her company for tonight?”

———

Inspo: the song Goddess by Laufey

[dapg-otmebytheballs]

Hey guys! The OnlyPhans Phanzine is out now, you can find the post here !

As I mentioned earlier, the posts through @phanzines blog are not appearing in tags so I'm using this post to share the zine in the tags as well as to inform our wonderful contributors ♥️

Please help us share the original post if possible! And round of applause for our contributors whom I am tagging here: @hattoriscap @hiwatari-art @demonqueenart @queenusagiblog @finding-you-in-any-world @absolutefilthimsosorry @unicornosaur

👏🏻👏🏻 Thank you guys!! Much love 😘

Have the draw Phil naked title page preview:

[tourettesdog]

Concept:

Danny and his friends go missing and Jazz (werewolf, cause vibes) starts exploring the GZ to find him. She's never been there before and only has a journal Danny left behind to go off of as she tries to navigate who is friend and foe. 

Wulf eventually becomes her travel companion.

I also wrote a story blurb to go with this (using speech to text while I worked on the shading lol) Word count: 1532 Warnings: isolation

A frigid wind wrapped around her, stirring the snow and ice. Jazz had never much liked the cold, always preferring relaxing spring days and warm summer nights. Always a bit too cold in their house, where the chill from the lab seemed to creep its way into each corner.

The cold didn't bother her as much now. It hadn't for a long while, not with thick fur to guard against the chill. Still, in the endless field of snow, even her thick pelt did very little to ward off the freezing temperature. 

It stung at her ears, lashed at her snout, and worked its way through the tough pads of her feet until they were numb. The specter speeder lay behind her, the metal hull already being swept beneath the wind-tossed snow.

This was it, Jazz thought. She had finally found her most promising lead, made her way to the far icy reaches of the Far Frozen that Danny's journal mentioned with such reverence, and here she would fall.

Lost in an endless expanse of snow. Buried where none would find her. Forgotten, even by the ghosts.

Lost like Danny was.

Jazz stumbled onward, focusing only on putting one foot before the other. It was all she could do. She could see nothing, save for the white glare of snow, dappled with a green and blue hue that swirled and rippled with the flow of the ectoplasmic sky.

It was beautiful, in its own way. In the strange way that an abstract painting could be beautiful, with its hapless array of colors and shapes. Jazz stared up at it, wondering if it would be the very last thing she ever saw.

Wondering if it was the last thing Danny might have seen.

She still didn't even know if he was in the Ghost Zone. She still didn't know where to start looking for him. Every ghost she had met so far, from the cruel to the kind, had no leads.

No one had seen Danny and his friends, or at least no one was willing to say that they had.

Her legs ached with the effort of sifting through the snow. Great weights dragged at her each step, and it was all Jazz could do to make another. She wanted to rest. She wanted to turn around and go back to the specter speeder, sinking into the seats where she might find at least a trace of warmth.

Jazz turned her head to look for the speeder, but she could no longer see it. She hadn't gone very far, yet the one thing tethering her to the outside world had left,  lost to the swirling white snow.

She took another step.

When jazz was ten-years-old there had been a large blizzard in Amity Park. It happened in late February, just after Valentine's Day, and had buried the town in a sea of snow. Jazz remembered how excited Danny was when it first started to snow. He was gleeful that they had a few days off of school and was prepared to throw himself into the snow with Tucker and Sam for the duration of it.

He hadn't had much time to enjoy that snow.

(Not that Time ever cared how much it gave to Danny.)

The ice on the power lines had left them without power, and without a stove to cook on the already-questionable meals that Maddie prepared became even more so. They huddled up by the fireplace with blankets, staying as warm as they could, but Danny still managed to get sick .

(He was never very lucky.)

Those five days off of school hadn't meant much when Danny spent the majority of them lying in bed, shivering and coughing, and Jazz spent that time worrying over him while their parents worked by candlelight in the lab.

Tears welled at the corners of Jazz's eyes and she couldn't be sure if they were from the sting of the wind or the ache in her chest. 

She took another step.

Jazz wondered what the Far Frozen yetis were like. Danny had described them quite a lot in his journal, much more than many of the other ghosts, and much more kindly at that. He had mentioned a Frostbite, a massive yeti with a frozen arm. He sounded nice, though the name 'Frostbite' felt awfully cruel and ironic to her now.

Maybe they would find her, at least. If she couldn't find Danny, if she was truly doomed to freeze, maybe this Frostbite would find her and be able to give Danny some closure.

(The same closure Jazz so desperately sought now, if nothing else.)

Jazz's chest constricted with a cold that had nothing to do with the frozen tundra around her, just imagining Danny endlessly searching for her.

(Following in her lost footsteps, she supposed.)

Jazz would sooner consign herself to endlessly wander the Far Frozen than she would have Danny fruitlessly search for her.

(And what if her own search was fruitless to begin with? What if she had thrown her life away searching for not even a ghost?)

The horizon blurred together, the crisp white snow melting with the hazy green of the sky until it was all a swirl in her mind. Ectoplasm and ice, every bit a reminder of who she had failed to protect.

Jazz tried to take another step, but her knees buckled.

She hoped that, wherever Danny was, he still had Sam and Tucker beside him. They were always close. Always willing to have each other's backs, no matter what stakes they were facing. 

Jazz wished she could have been a part of that more. Maybe then she would have found Danny sooner. 

They could have been home already, wherever home was now.

The snow piled around Jazz. She no longer had the energy to stand, and hardly had enough to sit up.

Maybe she'd return as a ghost, at least. There was certainly enough ectoplasm to sustain her as one here, and Jazz felt enough aching desire to keep going that she thought it more than possible.

Maybe she'd just rest for a little while. Sink into the snow, which was already blanketing her more and more as she slumped into the drift.

Surely, Danny was never this cold. A cold beyond cold, sinking into a hollow numbness that had Jazz's mind drifting with the wind.

The sky shifted, the sea of green above flickering with streaks of deep blue, an aurora borealis if ever she saw one. 

She remembered how Danny had described it in his journal. He hadn't done it much justice .

The snow shifted, warping, moving. Jazz could hardly keep her eyes open, her thoughts slipping with the drifts of snow.

She wondered what sort of ghost a werewolf would make. Danny had mentioned a wolf ghost in his journal, though Jazz couldn't be sure if he was a werewolf in life or had simply taken that form upon his death. Ghosts could be strange like that.

The roar of the wind was distant, hardly more than a whisper now. Jazz thought she could hear the crunch of snow and the echo of voices lost on the wind.

At least she would get to rest. Maybe not for a long while, but enough time to shut her eyes before she accepted whatever form fate would give her.

Eyes shut, numb to the strange world around her, the snow swallowed Jazz whole.

Warmth. She couldn't remember the last time she felt warm, lost in the zone without a sun to warm her back. Jazz had grown used to the cold, even before the snow of the Far Frozen claimed her. 

And yet she was warm. 

Jazz could remember falling into the snow, accepting her fate… and yet she was warm .

Opening her eyelids was a Herculean task, made no easier by the bright glare that welcomed her bleary sight. Jazz shut her eyes tight again, groaning as she turned her head to the side.

A murmured voice reached her ears, followed by another. Jazz heard a creaking sound and felt the air shift beside her.

She tried once again to open her eyes, this time squinting and finding that the glare had diminished somewhat.

"I'm pleased to see that you are awake at last," a voice said. It was a low rumble, almost more of a growl than a humanoid voice, but the words rang through clearly, as kind and gentle as any voice so deep could be.

Slowly, aching moments that stretched on for ages, the world swam into view. Rich blue hues, underscored by vibrant whites. Fractals of ice, deliberately shaped around dark stone. It looked as though they were in some sort of cave, though it had been altered into a living space with draping furs and woven tapestries.

A hulking form sat beside her. If Jazz ever thought that there was a creature fit to be called a yeti, it was them. He had snowy fur with gray markings, a cloak of deep blue, and icy horns that matched a frozen arm. 

Frostbite. The name suited him; he was every bit the ghost Danny described in his journal. 

[flagbridge]

The Trio. Art by TheAbominableShowman, from Prank War: A Game of Cups (Rated E, 18+)

Love that Raoul and Erik are fully committed to the bit of their "nothing left but mouth-to-mouth combat" and Christine has not a care in the world.

[flora-gray]

Day 3!

We wrap up our recap of the best of the best of the last PotO crack week with the winner of the prestigious Jury of One Prize (a favorite chosen by myself.) This one was a no-brainer as the close second for both fic and the accompanying art. What illuminaughti’s Tryptophantom did for raccoons, @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques does here for inflatable tube men. “It’s him,” I whisper, every time I drive by a car dealership. Please enjoy, and thank the author for this incomparable contribution to fandom with a kudos, comment, and/or reblog!

All That is Solid Melts into Air

Please check back tomorrow for info on submitting your own or favorite crack works!

[proudsnackeezowner]

Ooh dip and pip in the art thief AU from the fic you recommended me, maybe? 👀🎨

hi ser!! While I have another (better) spread dedicated to this art au theif coming for my phanart for phanfics thing I'm doing, I decided to do as you did for my ask earlier and just get outta my head and give you *something* lol!! So here is a low effort post-it for you!

Moments before disaster... poor art theif dan

(Little bit of context for whoever finds this: this is a doodle based on the phanfic "I don't blame you much (for wanting to be free)" by The_Blonde on ao3! It's an au where dan is an art theif, and phil is a security guard. I'll describe it a little more in a proper art post tomorrow as well but everyone should check it out !)

[blackpensils]

"That shirt..." Phantom said slowly. There expression on his face was one Sam couldn't quite place.

"This?" she asked, pulling on the collar with a frown. "What about it?"

Phantom cleared his throat and pulled his hand back. He scratched at the back of his neck, looking away before he slowly returned his gaze back to Sam.

"It's just... unique. Where'd you get it?" he asked after a short pause.

"From a Circus Gothica show years ago," Sam replied, going back crossing her arms across the window sill. She gave a smirk. "The one where the ghost's were terrorizing the town by stealing all of the jewelery."

Phantom's eyes widened and his cheeks got a light shade of green. An odd color for a blush.

"Yeah, well," he began with a chuckle. "I was being brainwashed. It was a whole thing." He shook his head as if he was remembering something ridiculous. "Maybe I'll tell you about it someday. But, uh, is that spray paint?"

Sam gave a glance down at the shirt. She'd never actually thought about it, but yes, now that she actually properly looked at her night shirt, it was covered in black spray paint to the point where you could barely see the original underneath. She could spot some red and definitely splotches of white here and there, though.

"Yes, it was a wild time. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday," she said, leaning down on her arms and smiled.

Phantom's eyes softened and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Sure. I'd like that."

[thesilentbard]

Cover for the final chapter of Take me back to the time loop by @seaglass-skies!

I had a lot of fun making this one. The symmetry effect was my favorite.

I also made two inline illustrations this time!

This one was per request from @jackdaw-sprite. :3

Seriously, this fic is amazing and you should go read it. It's very atmospheric and a fantastic Clockwork character study. Plus, some great Lost Time content.

[buskingalbatross]

back in march I posted this fic on ao3 but never mentioned it here. i re-read it the other day and decided i think it does in fact deserve to maybe be seen by a few people. it's got a second-person plural pov thing going on, the phouse is a moving castle, and they battle a kappa while we watch from a bush.

you (and all of us in this town) (5713 words) by buskingalbatross Chapters: 2/? (ignore this, the chapters mostly stand on their own it doesn't feel incomplete) Fandom: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester Characters: Dan Howell, Phil Lester, Us (Phandom) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Magic, Fantastical Creatures, Studio Ghibli Vibes-ish Summary:

A traveler hears tales of a town's local legends.

[rose-margaritas]

There was a pause, a tiny gasp as his breath caught, and she could only imagine his heart was beating as quickly as hers now; she squeezed his shin, beneath her left hand, and leaned closer to nuzzle against his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. He exhaled, all the contentment in the world, and slowly, tentatively, leaned the unmasked side of his face against the crown of her head, braced to see if she would pull away. Christine slipped her right arm around his waist, and the walls of his nervousness seemed to melt, his posture softening, the rigid tension of his muscles relaxing, the weight of the strong arm around her back suddenly present, steady and wonderful. She let out a sigh of pleasure, of peace.

"…the death of me," he murmured tenderly, and she couldn't help but smile. (x)

🏝️

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey how much I love the fic Volée by @veroniqueclaire , as I am not as articulate as the other fic commenters (which is also why I don’t really comment 😓). Like the summary provided by our lovely author, it truly is the quiet moments where the most magnificent things happen between our two beloved characters.

Personally, my favorite scene has always been the beach scene, a particularly calm occasion after what happened in the previous chapter… 😬 It was a rare moment where both Erik and Christine’s guards are down, where the two of them could actually speak their minds without much argument. In addition, VeroniqueClaire has such great talent when it comes to painting a full picture of what she hopes to project to the readers. The image in my mind was so tender that I simply had to capture it. I hope I do it justice!