DP X DC Draft Dump #1

The countdown to Invisobang 2025 begins! For those of you who don't know, Invisobang is a collaborative event for authors and artists. Over the course of several months, authors write fanfics and artists create art for those fics!

If you want to connect with other creators in the Phandom, this is the event for you!

How does it work?

Authors begin writing as soon as they sign up. Their goal is to write a fic with 5000 words minimum, although there is no maximum. Halfway through the event, they anonymously submit a profile of their fic.

Using these profiles, artists pick the fics that interest them the most and submit a claim. Mods will pair up authors and artists based on these claims.

During the second half of the event, authors finish their stories while artists make their art.

At the end of the event, participants share their work during posting week to create a big bang of content for everyone to ooh and aah at!

When is it, and how do I sign up?

Invisobang runs from February 14 to September 7. Author and artist sign-ups are staggered, while beta sign-ups are open for the first half of the event. You can sign up through a Google Form that will be posted with the opening announcement.

Authors: February 14–March 15

Beta readers: February 14–June 15

Artists and pinch hitters: May 16–June 15

Anything else I need to know?

The event is hosted through the Invisobang Discord. Participants must have a Discord account and be willing to join.

Co-authors can sign up in teams.

Artists must be able to make visual art or music, although you can make alternative art if your author is interested.

All content must be made new for the event, which means no continuing posted wips. Sequels and prequels to existing works are allowed, as well as ideas you’ve had sitting on the back burner (as long as they haven’t been posted before)

See the Invisobang info doc for information on rules, frequently asked questions, and the event schedule. If you still have questions after that, send it to the blog, or dm a mod (@kinglazrus, @bibliophilea, @strawberrycamel, and @underforeversgrace).

"I can’t write today. My desk isn’t clean. My vibes aren’t right. Mercury is in retrograde. I ate too much cheese. I haven’t suffered enough yet."

- Me

You ever look at some art your mutual made and you just sit there in stunned silence and awe that one of your friends is out there making jaw-dropping beautiful art just for the hell of it

Danny goes all the way to Gotham, finds the Batcave, stalks the bats long enough to figure out the passcode to the Batcomputer.

Just to do the "If there's a screen A03 will be seen." trend on Tiktok, not expecting it to blow up as big as it did.

How was he supposed to expect anything else? He was chronically unpopular for a hero, most of his tiktoks only got a solid 100 likes, entirely from the teenagers in Amity who were fans of him (something about him looking photoshopped or like AI?)

While Phantom and therefore Amity Park is under a microscope, a smart thing to do would be to lay low or cooperate with the heroes to show he's not a threat.

Instead, he posts a follow-up tiktok from The Watchtower

DC x DP : Those Glowing Green Eyes

CW: Blood, Gunshot Wounds, Violence

TLDR: Danny is on the run from the GIW and ends up in Gotham heavily injured where he gets found by a gun wielding vigilante.

Word Count: 2313

Everything hurts.

But when did it not?

But this time it wasn’t just injury number 67942 causing these aches and pains, though it did contribute to it. The mental anguish of being ran out of my own home and turned away by those I loved. Because I was a ghost. That pain was worse than the wound in my side.

Now the GIW is chasing me across the country and my last scuffle with them left me hurt worse than ever. They’ve been pushing hard this time around, new toys, more numbers. It was ridiculous. Seeing my own family there made me hesitate when they jumped me too. I didn’t react, just stared in horror as my own mother aimed a gun at me and my own father cheered her on.

Despite it all, I am still convinced there is hope. That there was. But when she pulled that trigger, all hope was gone. 

Now, that leads me to the present. Somehow I escaped and now was walking around with a gunshot wound in my side, a bum wrist and I think a head wound in an unknown city. Thank The Ancients for the luck I had with a portal to The Ghost Zone being nearby. I fell through it but had to immediately find another door to the mortal realm when I saw Vlad nearby, who has also been hunting me since this began. 

So here I am, in a dark, dank city. The ectoplasm here is toxic as hell and tastes like multiple smokers' houses smashed together and death. Night was falling and it got cold here fast. That could just be my core or it could be that I am slowly bleeding out. That was unclear at the moment.

Either way, I walked the street looking for shelter, mostly ignored by others or simply stared at. Honestly, I did not mind, I didn’t want the attention. Even with the toxic ectoplasm here I could heal up quickly and bounce back to the Ghost Zone to expel the toxicity of it with the help of the feeder ghosts and be good as new. It was abundant here, not nearly as much as Amity Park but it was a close second. That little fact told me this city reeked of death which meant it was probably also dangerous.

Maybe once this whole my parents and the government trying to murder me passes, I could come back here and purge the toxic ectoplasm as Ghost King. Because that is the only thing left for me to do, become Ghost King since my human life seems to be over. I have no clue what there is left for me to do with everyone I loved and the U.S Government wanting me dead

Too bad I can’t fully exercise that power of King until I come of age next year. I could’ve resolved this and just hid in the Ghost Zone for the rest of my undead life. Vlad wouldn’t be able to touch me then. Curse my stupid half alive and half dead existence, no other ghost would’ve had to wait but the council likes to be a pain in my ass. Probably in spite of Clockwork in all honesty, I half joke to myself.

My mind reels as I think about home, my friends, even Vlad. All of them had turned overnight. Even Jazz, though she showed hesitancy at every turn. Their eyes seemed to have a tinge of red when I saw them attack me for the first time, reminding me of Freakshow and his mind control abilities. That was the only thing I could justify holding out hope. But I didn’t see that in my moms eyes this time when she shot me.

Even Vlad switched from the whole crazed rich fruit-loop routine of trying to make me his son to attempts on my life. By the Ancients, if he were there this last attack and not in the Ghost Zone, I would’ve been dead. I had no doubts about it. It was pure luck that he didn't notice me in the zone.

I grimace as I continue walking, holding my side, warm blood seeping through my white shirt and the bandages I put on it already. My vision and mind feel foggy as I turn a corner, instantly clearing for a moment when my ghost sense activates, sending a shiver down my spine, hair standing on the back of my neck.

Now?

Really?

I nearly groan both in pain and frustration at this change. I look around pissed off only to find a guy in a red helmet across the street. My entire being on edge as I see him. He didn’t look like a ghost but he gave the impression of having an association with ghosts. He had higher ectoplasm in his body than normal. Even more so than most Amity Park citizens. For a second I thought I saw the flicker of a core but just as quickly as I saw it, it goes away. 

Could he possibly be possessed?

The gears turn in my head as everything screams at me that he is bad news regardless. The moment this masked man steps towards me, I muster all the energy I can and start to run, my decision being made. There was no way I could fight in this condition. Every inch of my body, my muscles scream at me for this. My side burns and my vision is blurry at best.

I risk a glance back to see him following and pick up speed. Grateful for my inhuman abilities still being of use despite my injured state. It’d be easy to go ghost or phase through a wall on a normal day but this was not normal, even for me. There are so many ways I could lose this guy but no, I keep running, oblivious to anything except the urge to escape this new, unknown threat.

Him following me all but confirms my suspicions that he is bad news. I mean I saw those guns on his side. They could be loaded with anti-ghost bullets. I’ve been shot once today, I do not plan on doing that again. Ever. He has to be a hired gun by the GIW is the only explanation to this.

At some point in the chase, I look back to see he is managing to keep up with me, which in hindsight made so much sense with my injuries. I turn right only to find this was the wrong choice. Because of course that would be my luck today. I screech to a halt, nearly crashing to meet the dead end head on, a brick wall separating me from escaping. I lean against the wall in frustration before turning to see if he was in the alley yet.

I could just phase- ”Demon brat what have I told you about stepping in my turf?” Damnit.

I am so tired. I am trapped. I am injured. This day just freaking sucks.

I glare at him with as much intensity I can muster. If only I could use my powers, scare him away. Now that he was closer it was clear he was a human who experienced death. Not a ghost. Not a halfa like him, just a human. But if he did that then the GIW would be sure to find me again in no time. And the stranger called me a demon brat. That has to be some sort of slur to ghosts, although I am not familiar with slurs for ghosts. Is that even a thing?

I shake the thought away and focus on him. I look him up and down, taking in his appearance and movements, ready to fight back.

Despite the mask covering his face, I could feel this stranger looking at him up and down despite it being dark. Maybe his mask had some sort of night vision built into it. He was assessing and judging him. And I was doing the same to him between the glares, my superhuman night vision letting me miss nothing in this dark space.

He looked like what I imagined a human vigilante would look like. Except 10 times scarier like he wouldn’t care if he helped civilians or not. Maybe this guy was just here for an adrenaline rush or some other bullshit reason a normal human would act like this. The red mask was intimidating, he was well built and tense, ready to pounce on him like I was on him. Except he wasn’t fighting death itself right now so he for sure would win without me using powers. Maybe he is a hired gun by the GIW with how he is sizing me up.

The vigilante takes a step towards me, “Woah, woah, you're bleeding.” he seems to hesitate but I glare back up to him like a feral animal. This had to be a trick right? The care and concern in his voice wasn’t real.

I backed up against the cool brick wall behind me, sinking into a low stance, ready to jump and fight back. I let the wall support me where it could and where it couldn't, I sucked it up with gritted teeth. I had faced worse before. If I died here I’d probably become a full ghost anyways so I could haunt his ass for the rest of his life, exercising the full power of Ghost King just to be petty for the inconvenience. Serves him right for the scary vigilante routine. Too bad for him, I am scarier and I would not fall for cheap tricks.

I try to make myself as intimidating as possible. Hell, the blood seeping from my head and how ready I was to fight probably made me look like a feral, wounded, animal right now. I mean that is what everyone else thought I was anyways, right? I bare my teeth at him, my canines most definitely unnaturally pointed.

“Seriously, kid? Two can play this game.” The man takes a step closer, I watch, calculating. 

Then his eyes glowed green.

At least that had to be what happened under the mask. I felt the surge of ectoplasm being used when it happened and I snarl at him in response. This would be a harder fight than I thought. How did I miss the ectoplasm tainting him, enhancing him this way? The fact he could willingly do it meant he was trained and well versed in his abilities.

Well shit.

He seems taken aback at my response, not expecting me to not be frightened. Well tough luck buddy. “I can do that too.” I say with venom dripping off my tongue between gritted teeth, not willing to let this guy get the best of me.

I look up at what I presume are his eyes based on his mask and allow my own eyes to flare neon green, brighter than his. A show of power and dominance that some ghosts use to avoid a fight. Maybe I could avoid this fight entirely if he had the innate understanding many liminal beings had when experiencing this with or without knowing what it means. Either way it was clear he knew something.

“I have been hunted, shot, maimed, and tortured by much, much worse.” I threaten. “You do not scare me. And I sure as hell am not going to go down to a nobody like you.” My vision  continues to blur and darken at the edges as the adrenaline from the chase starts to wear down, the rapid heart rate pumping my blood much faster than I need it to be to prevent blood loss as more blood seeps from my wounds. That little trick took more energy from me than I anticipated.

The unknown man looks at me, his body language indicating he was confused and concerned. I nearly wanted to laugh but I needed all the energy in case I had to fight. “Shit.. you’re not Demon Brat. Kid,” he starts, his body relaxing ever so slightly, “you need help, let me help you.”

The man takes another step forward, holstering a pistol. When did he draw that to begin with?

I flash my eyes again, a bit weaker this time as I feel my legs start to buckle under me. No. Not now. I can’t go down now. Panic welling up inside me as I growl at him and try to steady myself against the wall.

“Go away,” I muster, throat dry, “this isn’t your problem.” I manage to say as my last attempts to get him to screw off.

The man takes another step towards him, now in arms reach, “Look, I know a doctor who might be able to help you. She-” I stumble a bit and he reaches out ready to catch me, still keeping from touching me, “Shit- kid. She won’t turn you away. She can help. She doesn’t share the identity of her patients. She treats the Bats. You can trust her if not me”

My body shakes at his words. Or maybe I was shaking the entire time. God it was so cold now. Almost as cold as being dead for real. And man do I have experience with that. My entire body felt so heavy and aches everywhere. It was almost peaceful, in a way. Except I hated how dark my vision had gotten and blurred.

Something about how he speaks and acts, I decide in my haste, wanting to not die a second time to trust him. My body relaxes, no longer ready to fight him. Was it a bad idea? Probably but I did not want to die in an alley this time. My vision darkens and the last thing I remember is falling into his arms as my answer to him.

Please help me, stranger.

--------

A/N: This was a fic I planned on writing but got burnt out after writing the first chapter so I figured I'd post it here, maybe it'll motivate me to continue it.

Danny Phantom may be dead, but the Phandom just keeps cugging that sweet sweet green ectoplasmic goop like it's cream soda

And I hear for it.

And all the au's.

Dear everyone who is currently working on a Thing, whatever that Thing may be,

Good luck with the Thing. You can do the Thing. You will do the Thing. You just have to do the Thing.

Best wishes,

Someone who is also doing a Thing

just remembered shows used to have 20-25 eps per season

soos fix the website please we're all going insane

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "Past Tense, Pt. 1"