#dp electric core au
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btw this was from DannyMay day 8, u know the DannyMay I said id finish but didnt (i got depressed again)
very upset at yall for not remembering to include a mentor to replace Frostbite in your electric core AUs 😔
#friendship ended with Tony the Tiger#now Boltstrike is my best friend#danny phantom#dp#danny fenton#dannymay#dannymay 2023#dannymay day 8#electric core au#danny phantom electric core au#dp electric core au#danny phantom au#dp au#tucker foley#frostbite#danny phantom frostbite#frostbite danny phantom#danny phantom fanart#dp fanart#phanart#danny phantom art#dp art
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Various dragon Dannys based on a few AUs for Ectoberhaunt :3
#these look longer than I expected cuz I do not do enough creature design lol#mothaganda#ectoberhaunt23#ectoberhaunt#dragons#magic#dragon au#dragon danny#electric core au#moth danny#space obsession#creature design#dp#danny phantom#digital drawing
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Dannymay Day 8: Electric Core AU
There's something edgy about having powers controlling what killed you, right?
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random dp x dc writing
i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!
🦇
“So much for movie night.” Tucker complains.
Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.
“You guys can stay here.” Danny says, pushing himself into the air. “I told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didn’t get the memo.” The Box Ghost surely hadn’t; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesn’t usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasn’t going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOL’S OUT or if she would become another zombie student.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll make it quick.” Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Sam’s house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.
Once upon a time, the storm would’ve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he can’t deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.
Stupid electric core.
“Ah! Sir Phantom!”
It isn’t one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, it’s a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. He’s still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least it’s by another friend.
Plus, he’s sure Lady Dorothea, who’s working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldn’t understand what a movie night was, anyway.
“Hey, Dorothea!” Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. “Is everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?”
“No, not quite.” Lady Dorothea sighs. “I do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something… else has happened.”
“Something else?”
Lady Dorothea nods. “Yes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but then…” She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. “… Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.”
Danny blinks at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say there’s another halfa?”
“Yes, I did— Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.”
A new halfa. Danny’s brain feels like it’s melting and spinning at the same time. He’d never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.
A new halfa.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom x dcu#ominouswriting#dpxdc#dcxdp#hehe who is a halfa now??#Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out!#the gardener's name is a reference btw#to the lady who inspired a lot of interest in victorian flower language#idk i thought it was creative#and i thought instead of unnamed DC character being thrown to the far frozen and the yetis#what if they ended up somewhere else? and dorothea stood out to me#idk how royalty stuff works btw#winging it as i go#electric core au
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So tempted for Space Core Danny with Time Core mentor Clockwork because it would just fit so well. Time and Space. Like I am just so very weak to it.
And I want to combine that idea with like, Sun Core Dan and Moon Core Dani just because I think it would be so amazing.
Maybe also combined with Liminal Jazz and friends- though that would imply them also becoming ghosts once they pass, and I am also here for that.
Space core Danny also fits with the ice since areas of space can get below -400 degrees, which can most definitely flash-freeze something. So there’s his ice abilities makin’ sense in the idea. Alongside other things that I am not researching the science for right now haha
#DP#danny phantom#danny fenton#danny phantom au#danny phantom headcanon#Headcanon#dan phantom#dani phantom#danielle phantom#ellie phantom#clockwork#ghost core#random ramble#short ramble#tucker would have an electricity or storm core me thinks#Sam definitely has a plant or life core#sun core dan#moon core dani#time core clockwork#space core danny#space core#Idk what core ghost Jazz would have#any ideas?
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Been a while since I posted, apologies life has been HARD!
Anyway here’s some sketches of my “Good Vlad” au.
Fire core Yada yada but have you considered LIGHTNING CORE!?!
#danny phantom#Vlad masters#vlad plasmius#good Vlad au#dp au#DP art#I have a lot of thoughts about a Vlad redemption arc but this particular one is sparked by Vlad making the first move#and because he makes such a big change the flames of his anger and want for revenge calm#and his original electric core is able to properly awaken :)
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Sooo I wrote a Part 2 for the Everyone Knows AU part of angstfest. (Anything to avoid editing my IB fic right now, apparently)
Part One of this fic is here if you missed it!
Danny sits in the passenger seat of Jazz’s car, leaning his head against the window as his Mom drives them in silence, her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. His Dad and sister are back at FentonWorks, since his parents insisted it would be best if Danny and his Mom went alone, and it’s been hours since he’s seen any real signs of civilization. The further they travel from home the worse he feels, some nagging sense of discomfort and uneasiness that won’t relent, even as he knows this is to help him.
For over a year and a half, he’s been experiencing fainting spells and blackouts every time there’s a ghost attack. He’s lucky his friends have managed to keep it hidden from his peers at school, since he knows Dash’s bullying would only increase if he knew Danny was so terrified of the ghosts that he fainted every time one appeared. They tried to keep it from his parents, too, with his sister Jazz’s help, even as Danny couldn’t understand why. But every time he thought about telling them in the past, his jaw would lock up and the words would die before he could utter even a single syllable.
Yet now they know. He remembers waking up in the lab, not sure how he made it there, his parents sobbing as Jazz hovered in the corner, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the three of them warily. They said something to him, explained something even as they lectured Jazz, too, about keeping this a secret, but the words slipped from his fingers within minutes, and whatever confession they made was lost to him. But he can remember the fear in their eyes, the way they trembled and shook, and the odd sense that they were afraid of him rather than for him. He can remember asking if he should go to a doctor and the way they paled, adamantly refusing to bring him to anyone for weeks. It’s only now that they’ve finally agreed to bring him to see some specialist way out in Wisconsin.
It used to be that whenever this happened, something would push back in his own subconscious eventually, reassuring him that it was fine, that he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about. It would smother him like a comforter in the middle of a snowstorm, warm and inviting and soft even as it felt entirely too heavy and like he really ought to be outside helping to dig out from the blizzard instead of hiding inside beneath his covers, but he still let it, the embrace too kind and safe for him to push back against. But this time he could not forget, not when his parents flinched every time he entered a room, not when they seemed so afraid even after so many weeks. Danny wishes he knew what he did wrong, what they fear about him, why they seem to almost hate him at times. It hurts, the ache so intense that there are moments when he swears something within him is fracturing and slowly crumbling to pieces, and he hopes this specialist can help repair whatever’s been broken.
When they finally arrive, though, it’s not at a doctor’s office but a massive mansion. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’m sure,” she insists as she unbuckles her seatbelt while Danny steps out of the car. Despite the bright colors and decor, something in him uncurls in his gut like a snake, rearing back and ready to strike, and Danny shivers as he fights back against the odd sensation.
The man who greets them is tall with silver hair pulled back into an elegant ponytail tied with a red silk ribbon that probably costs more than Danny’s entire wardrobe. He’s wearing a dark black suit and red tie, and the way he smiles reminds Danny of a crocodile or a shark. It’s as if he’s slime given form and Danny shudders.
“Hello, Vlad,” says Mom.
“My dearest Maddie,” he says, kissing his mother on both cheeks. “How lovely to see you after so long. And what a pleasure to meet you, young Daniel. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” He offers him his hand and Danny shakes it, barely resisting the urge to pull away immediately since the man’s grip is too hot, like fire burns beneath his fingertips. A small, absurd part of him wonders if he’s the devil, if his parents are planning to make some terrible deal (or admit to having done so long ago given his issues), but he pushes his fears down.
“Thanks, I guess, but I don’t know anything about you,” replies Danny, and the man flinches briefly before recovering. “My Mom said you could help me with my fainting spells and blackouts, though.”
“Ah, yes. Your ‘fainting spells,’” he says bemusedly, as if in quotes, and that defensive, roiling in his gut returns, more pronounced than before.
“Vlad,” says Mom sternly. “Please. Can you help him?”
“That depends entirely on what you mean by help, but I’ll see what I can do,” he says with a small smirk, and Danny bristles even as his Mom seems satisfied with the response. “Follow me.”
The two of them walk through the massive mansion. It’s decked out in Packers paraphernalia, which seems completely at odds with the perfectly poised man in front of him. “You’re a cheesehead?” says Danny.
“Indeed. I’ve tried to buy the Packers several times, too, but to no avail,” he says, teeth gritted, and Danny suspects the man isn’t told ‘no’ very often. He worries what that means for him and his potential treatment.
“What kind of specialist are you?” he asks.
“I am technically a business owner, but I’ve done extensive research into unique types of ecto entities,” he says, watching Danny out of the corner of his eye. “Entities like yourself.”
“I’m not–I’m human,” he objects, and he can feel that buzzing, that comfortable embrace pulling on him, and he tries to resist it but finds himself unwilling to do so for long, and by the time he’s aware once more he’s standing on the stairs to a basement lab, unable to remember what Vlad’s specialty is, what else they talked about or how they even made it here.
“What did you say you specialized in?” he asks, and Vlad pauses on the stairs in front of them, turning to him with a frown.
“See?” says Mom. “I told you already, Vlad, he can’t remember for more than a minute or two.”
“Remember what?” asks Danny irritably.
“That I’m a specialist who can help you with your blackouts and medical issues,” says Vlad, and Danny frowns. That’s frustratingly non-specific, even as it’s almost certainly, technically true.
“So like a neurologist?” he presses.
“Something like that,” he says, and Danny scowls as he follows him the rest of the way into the lab, not sure why they won’t tell him the truth, not sure why he can’t remember if they already did.
The lab itself is incredibly high-tech. There’s no repurposed household items like there are in his parents’ lab, and everything is carefully organized, labeled, and tucked away. In one corner sits a massive portal, and Danny’s eyes widen as he takes in the green swirling within it, recognizing it for what it is. “You’re an ecto scientist?” he says, turning to the man as he puts on a lab coat.
“Indeed, though I specialize in many other areas, too,” he says. “Maddie, dear, why don’t you have a seat over there while I examine young Daniel?”
His Mom pauses, eyeing Vlad warily for a moment before finally relenting and taking a seat at one of the empty lab benches. “And you, child, come here,” he insists, beckoning to him like Danny’s an obedient puppy, and Danny glares as he takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I need to do a quick scan. Please lay back.”
“What kind of scan?” He won’t simply do what this man asks, not without knowing more first. Not when even his Mom looks nervous.
“Think of it like an MRI or x-ray. I promise, it’s harmless,” he says, flashing his teeth in a way that’s meant to be reassuring but is far too predatory, and Danny shivers as he looks at his Mom. She gives a small smile that’s not half as reassuring as he hoped even as she nods for him to do as Vlad says, and Danny sighs as he lays down on the bed, letting his hands rest on his stomach, his fingers twisting around in his shirt as he ignores the pounding of his heart and the sweat on his palms.
‘I’ll be fine,’ he thinks stubbornly to himself, and he feels that odd sense of warmth, of a hug from something within his chest and relaxes as Vlad wheels over some strange scanner. It moves slowly over him, hovering for a long time near where his heart and lungs are before progressing, and then Vlad sits down at a computer for a few minutes as he reviews the results, humming thoughtfully as Danny’s Mom walks over and peers over his shoulder.
“Is that . . .?” she asks, pointing to something on the screen.
“Yes. But see this? There’s disconnection here,” he says, pointing to it and moving his finger, and Danny angles his head to try and see what they’re looking at but he can’t, the screen angled away from him too much. He starts to sit up when his Mom looks at him and shakes her head, and with a sigh he lays back down, drumming his fingers on his stomach impatiently. Clearly they’ve found something, and he feels like he has a right to know what. “The pathways didn’t form properly, and if they aren’t repaired, he’s not going to survive for much longer. You can already see the damage to his internal organs.”
Danny swallows, his blood running cold. He’s going to die? He didn’t–he can’t be–
“Can you fix it?” she asks, interrupting his thoughts.
“I think so, but it may be a bit traumatic,” Vlad says, “and with the disconnection having lasted so long, I’m not certain how cooperative he’ll be when it comes to the required treatment. Still, the memory issues are more severe than they ought to be even in this case. I have my suspicions about the cause, but I’ll need to provoke him to confirm it.”
“What?” Danny’s heart is beating rapidly and he’s sitting up now, staring at them with wide eyes, unable to hold back his terror even as he can begin to feel that tug at him, that warmth, but he won’t give into it this time. He can’t. He needs to know.
“I would explain it, child, but you won’t remember,” sighs Vlad as he stands up. “Do you trust your mother?”
“I–what?” he sputters. Aside from it sounding like he’s probably dying, Danny’s still not sure what’s happening here, even as Vlad and his mom do seem to understand, and he desperately wants them to explain it to him, to tell him the truth, for someone to be honest with him just once.
“I would prefer your consent, of course, but you literally cannot give it due to your condition,” he explains, which makes absolutely no sense to Danny. “I’m asking if you trust your mother so she can at least grant it on your behalf.”
His mouth opens automatically to say that of course he trusts her, but then he pauses, the words dying on his tongue. Does he trust her? She’s brought him here with little to no explanation, and like with his sister and his friends, Danny knows nothing about why or what’s happening to him besides the blackouts. They all claim they’ve told him about it before–even this Vlad guy seems to suggest as much–but he hates that he can’t remember, hates that he has nothing to fall back on to confirm that they all have his best interest at heart beyond his own gut feeling. And his instincts right now are diametrically opposed, screaming at each other to reassure Vlad that he trusts her even as another part insists that he can’t, that he shouldn’t, that she’ll hurt him and he needs to be kept safe and he can feel that part forcibly pushing down on his ability to say yes, to let them know they can do the treatment, that they need to move forward and–
Danny blinks, struggling to remember what he was thinking about, what question he was supposed to answer. “I–sorry–can you . . . what did you say?” he whispers, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, and Vlad tilts his head to the side.
“Interesting,” he hums. “But it does provide more proof for what I suspect is occurring. Maddie, dear, do I have your permission?”
“But he–”
“I’m not sure he can,” interrupts Vlad as Danny stares at them cluelessly, not sure what they’re talking about again. He’s lost some more time, he’s sure, but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t think he fainted or fully blacked out, yet the last thing he can remember is laying down on the table before Vlad prepared to start the scan, and he shivers, rubbing his arms.
She turns to look at him, and then walks over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, hon,” she says and then she gives him a hug, squeezing him tightly, but he can feel her trembling even as she tries to reassure him. “I promise, okay?”
“I–okay,” he manages, the word choking its way past, and then she walks back to Vlad.
“Maddie, my dear, you’ll need to stay here, please,” he insists, and Mom nods as Vlad comes over with something Danny recognizes. It’s a portable ghost shield, although the design is different from the one his parents use, and Vlad presses a finger against a sensor, activating around them as Danny’s heart beats faster now and the thing in his gut rears back, ready to strike as Vlad’s eyes flash impossibly red and a set of black rings appear around his waist, and–
Danny’s body drops to the table as Phantom emerges, hissing and shrieking at the intruder and ghost before him, tackling him with his claws as his brain screams at him to protect, protect, protect! The ghost puts up a shield, eyeing him lazily as he speaks, his words full of fire and ash even as they sound human, too, smothered beneath the surface of the water. “Enough, child,” he insists, using human words, but he can see the ripples in his aura, the subtle shifts that indicate his intentions, and he pauses with his claws outstretched, ectoblast building between the black tips. “So you are sentient enough, at least, to understand. Can you speak?”
He hisses, echoes and static and chirps as his aura flares in response, letting him know that he sees the threat but that he’s unafraid, that he will protect Danny and his mother from the ghost in front of him. There are no real words, not in the way there is with human speech simply because there doesn’t need to be, his intentions and meaning clear enough for any ghost to understand.
“Ah. I thought not, based on what we saw in the scans,” he muses. Black rings appear around his waist and he shifts, the dark haired ghost with bluish skin and fire in his hands and eyes vanishing beneath a human facade. “I promise I intend no harm.”
The words mean less to Phantom now than they would’ve if Vlad spoke them before transforming. Vlad’s aura is muted this way, his intentions less clear even as Phantom can taste the ash on his tongue as the man speaks, the echo of Vlad’s otherness apparent to him, and Phantom floats forward, tilting his head around as he puts a clawed hand on Vlad’s chest to better feel the pulsing of his core beneath his flesh.
“Vlad, are you–” begins Mom, her words sounding distant and submerged beneath waves. It’s always so hard for him to hear and understand the humans that speak to him, even as he tries since he doesn’t want to hurt them. He needs to protect them. He needs to keep them safe.
“I’m quite fine,” he insists, even as Phantom hisses a warning at him. “Are you done posturing? I’m here to help you, Daniel. Or do you prefer Phantom?” Phantom’s aura flares, spiking and sending a mixture of signals. “You are not helping him.” His claws extend, pushing intangibly through his skin, grasping his core, but Vlad remains calm despite the clear threat. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You are disconnected from yourself this way. You leave behind your body each time, and eventually, no matter how much your friends and family intervene, you will not be able to return to it.”
He turns his head more, floating upside down, his tail spiraling behind him as he considers the words. Vlad’s core is too tightly grasped between his fingers for him to hide his intentions, and there’s truth there, at least as far as Vlad sees it, and Phantom sends a questioning chirp. “You are meant to be a single entity,” he says. “But your core is not fully connected to your biological systems. It’s created a barrier between you and Daniel, an artificial wall that should not exist, and it’s harming both of you.”
Phantom hisses reflexively, showing his sharp teeth as he lets one of his claws dig into Vlad’s core, and the man winces but otherwise hides his distress at the intrusion. “You can’t keep denying it and hiding the truth from your human half. I know you’re trying to protect him. I know you’re trying to help. But it’s hurting him. He’s confused and upset and scared. You’re leaving his body behind whenever you respond to the intruders in your haunt, as you’ve done here. You risk him being discovered, being captured by the GIW or other ghost hunters who, unlike your parents, would not be willing to try to help you. They would experiment on him, dissect him, and ultimately destroy both of you.”
“And it’s hurting him physically, too,” says Vlad. “My scans are showing damage to his internal organs and structures. If this continues for much longer, your human half will not survive. It cannot.”
He relaxes his hand, the words coming out in a whisper of echoes and static, of uneasiness and fear.
Vlad responds quietly in kind, sending an oddly comforting response from a man whose core burns with impossible anger and resentment at the world. “I know you’re worried about how he’ll manage knowing the truth of who he is. But you cannot hide it from him forever, not without destroying him and yourself. Please, child. Allow me to help you be whole again,” he says.
He withdraws his hand, sending out a questioning burst of noise, of inquiry. Because he doesn’t want Danny to die. He doesn’t want to die.
“The integration was prevented due to the interference of your family and friends,” he explains, and his Mom flinches. “Our transformation is not meant to have artificial triggers. The use of the AED to resuscitate you, to fill your core with electricity so it can artificially force the ectoplasm within your body to bring you back, has prevented it from fully bonding to your own systems and sending the spark from within itself to revive your human half upon your transformation. You must re-enter Daniel and trigger the change yourself. You must use the energy from your own core, your own essence.”
A soft, pleading whine.
“You can,” insists Vlad. “More than that, you must.”
He moves from the man, floating over to himself, to his other half, to the part that he misses and aches for every time he leaves to take care of the ghostly threats that intrude on his haunt. Reaching out, Phantom places his hand on Danny’s chest, feeling the absence of breath, the missing life that should be there, and the gentle hum of a fragment of his own core pulsing within, that keeps him whole and alive despite the loss of his spirit even if humans can’t sense it.
And with a terrified shiver, he pushes himself inside, letting him flow into the body, to not merely overshadow and reattach but become one again as he tries to seek the spark from within his core, tries to connect his spirit and body in full. He’s not sure he can, not without the external boost, and he can feel himself holding back, his worry over how Danny will handle the truth about knowing what he is, knowing that his parents almost certainly hate him and fear him, that his friends will never accept him–
“--focus,” says Vlad, and then he feels someone gripping Danny’s hand and he opens Danny’s eyes, expecting the half-ghost, but it’s not Vlad.
It’s his Mom.
“Please, son,” she whispers, tears burning in her eyes. “Please.”
And he mumbles something in response, his aura flickering as he speaks in a language she can’t understand, and he feels her grip Danny’s hand–their hand, his hand–more tightly, trying to reassure him, to let him know he’s okay, he’s safe, that they love him and care about him as he–
–Danny blinks, gasping as he sits up, clutching at his chest. It hurts, like ice and lightning and fire pouring through his veins and he wants to scream even as it feels right, as a bright light passes over him and he shifts, feeling oddly weightless and absent for a moment before they pass over him again and he shifts once more, back to being heavy and human and present. It’s painful and terrifying yet oh so right, and somehow, that makes it worse.
And he sits for a moment, hand still clutching his chest even as his mother hasn’t let go of his other hand, as his world crashes around him, as he remembers who they are, who he is, what he is. As his memories he’s kept from himself in an effort to protect his human half crash back, slamming into him impossibly hard, moments spent in ghost fights and then burrowing himself inside his own helpless corpse as his friends were forced to endure the burden of caring for him and protecting him, and Danny lets out a keening wail that’s neither human nor ghostly in its sound but some odd blend of the two.
“I’m a monster,” he whispers, sobbing as his shoulders shake, and his Mom shifts, moving to hold him tightly to herself.
“Oh, hon,” she says, but no words follow, no gentle affirmations that she loves him, no denials about him being the horrifying creature he knows they’ve seen him as, that they’ve hunted and shot at and threatened to experiment on and–
“It’ll be okay,” she says, interrupting his spiraling thoughts as she strokes his hair. “We’ll figure it out, Danny. I promise.”
Maybe someday he’ll believe her.
#angstfest2023#danny phantom#dp fanfiction#my writing#everyone knows au#electric core au#if you squint#corpse au even if you don't#I want to edit this and post it to AO3 at some point but that will require coming up with a fic title#Sooooooooo#we'll see
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Dannymay 2023. Day 8: Electric core AU
Tucker *laughs at Danny because he cannot generate a strong electricity discharge to hit Plasmius*.
Danny *yells at him*, *accidentally charges Tucker’s phone with his angry cat aura*.
Danny&Tucker:..*blink*
Tucker*kneeling on one knee*: Marry me.
Vlad: Am I disturbing you two?
Tucker: Actually yes.
Vlad: Too bad I don’t care.
Danny: *does Azula's lightning bending moves*
Danny: “Uncle is a quitter and a loser.”
Vlad *jumps from a small shock*: Ouch! The youth of today have no respect for their elders.
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#electric core au#pitch pearl#dp au#danny phantom#danny fenton#void danny#Fun! Danny#Super! danny#Umm ermm#Danny fenton is not danny phantom
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Electric Core Danny!
Another color for the Green With Envy event!
This time using @foxyteah's line art!
This was insanely fun to dooooo! And everyone else was making all these different kinds of cores, so I really wanted to do electric. Then one thing led to another and I was asking Foxy if I could make some minor alterations to the line art. Fufufufu.
So many booty jokes for our thicc boy.
Let's give it up for Raichu Danny!
Alt versions under the cut:
#pokemon#danny phantom#raichu#electric core au#dp fanart#greenwithenvy2023#dp crossover#danny phantom fanart#danny phantom event#phandom event#artist event#dp events#crossover fanart#crossover
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Day 8: electric core au
Danny couldn’t seem to get rid of this buzzing feeling under his skin. It had started about a week ago and it was starting to give him anxiety. It was making it difficult to sleep, well more difficult than normal, and homework was now impossible to focus on. He hadn’t felt this unstable since his ice powers had started to develop.
And now he was in the middle of a ghost fight and his powers kept slipping away from him.
The ghost was big and dragon-like and it had gotten a lot of good hits in.
Danny crashed into the wall for the eighth time that fight and before he could get up the ghost pressed one of its clawed feet onto his chest. Danny tried to go intangible but the buzz under his skin only increased
“Hey! Over here!” he heard Tucker yell and fire an ecto blaster.
The beast roared and turned towards his friends.
No. He couldn’t let his friends get hurt. Danny tried to pull himself up but the buzzing increased and he collapsed.
He heard another blaster fire and the beast roared.
No. He would get up. He had to.
There was the sound of a crash and someone cried out.
NO!
Danny forced himself to his feet and used what strength he had left to leap onto the beast.
It roared, twisting its head around and reaching down to bite him, but Danny didn’t care. All that mattered were his friends.
The beast’s jaws closed around his arm and Danny screamed and something in him uncoiled.
Energy burst out of him. Electricity crackled around him and into the beast.
And it didn’t stop. Electricity surged around them as the beast roared and Danny screamed.
It hurt. Did it? He wasn’t sure. But he was back in the portal and he was dying over and over again.
He didn’t know how long it lasted but when he opened his eyes, when had he closed them? Sam and Tucker were walking towards him and the beast was nowhere to be seen.
He had died, except he hadn’t. It hadn’t even hurt. But it was so much like.. Why would his powers develop this way? Why would they force him to remember when…
But Sam and Tucker were okay.
That was all that mattered.
It had to be.
For them, Danny would yield to the electricity under his skin over and over again.
#dannymay2023#danny fenton#danny phantom#danny phantom fanart#dp fanart#electric core au#day 8#dp fanfic#drabble
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Did two for ‘Electric Core AU’ because I didn’t like my sketch once I got started working on it more. These are both kinda meh for me, but I’m at least learning how to drawing lighting better?
DannyMay Masterlist
#dannymay2023#lightning#digital art#my art#art#drawing#dp#danny phantom#digital painting#fanart#electric core au#electricity#storm#eye strain#.5k#1k
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Day 8, Electric Core AU🔋
Having an electric core, you’re basically your own free phone charger. He’s watching Final Space.
#Danny phantom#dannymay2023#dannymay#dannymay 2023#phanart#danny fenton#dp fanart#phandom art#phandom#electric core au#slice of life
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DannyMay Day 8: Electric Core Au ⚡
Danny deserves one of those epic lightning scenes from movies.
Masterpost
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Ghosts in DDMG and Ghost Splinter 2 have cores. The core is the heart, brain and stomach of the ghost - it houses their consciousness and produces the energy that keeps them going.
Following their obessession feeds the core, keeps it stable. Other forms of energy can be used by the core as a substitute, but the ghost will need to tend to their obessession eventually or risk destablising.
Cores are also all different, with said differences reflecting the ghost they're part of. They're all located in the same place though, in the lower torso.
They can be destroyed, and doing so destroys the ghost and prevents them from reforming later.
Ghosts can consume each other's cores. However, doing so is usually about more than just getting rid of an enemy - due to the core being the powerhouse of the ghost, eating one can allow another ghost to become more powerful and take over the other's territory. Literally a keep what you kill situation. The winner may take on some of the loser's powers, but the majority of the time they experience a power increase.
Some ghosts will hunt down weaker spirits and consume their cores to get more powerful with minimal risk to themselves. This is considered a dick move by every other ghost.
Ghost Splinter 2 spends the first half of the au essentially using his core as a football. He is not looking after himself at all and his core is suffering for it. Him losing control of his powers and getting stuck in ghost form is largely a product of his core being within spitting distance of destabilising and shutting his powers down to save itself. Once he starts actually looking after himself, his core heals and it gradually opens his powers back up.
(Splinter's core put his powers on a shelf until Splinter showed he could use them responsibly)
DDMG Splinter's core is... really weird by ghosts standards. It looks like two different cores have been haphazardly mashed together and are currently trying to kill each other. Saying his core is stable is a bit like calling a house of cards structurally sound - it's really not, but it's hanging in there. He's at least looking after it better than GS2 Splinter and after meeting Mikey his core gradually becomes more stable.
DDMG Splinter may also have more raw power than GS2 Splinter, which is an interesting combination with his overall less stable core.
#tmnt#tmnt au#tmnt 2012#dead doesn't mean gone au#ghost splinter 2 electric boogalo#the cores in these aus are inspired a lot by the ghosts from danny phantom and ghostwire tokyo#or at least the phandom's version of the dp ghosts
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Electric Core/No One Knows AU
I meant to post this for some event, but never got around to it. Since AO3 is functionally down at the moment, I figured I'd share it in case folks are looking for something to read. It's kind of similar to 'As the Ice Begins to Crack' in terms of vibes (or at least that's what I was aiming for - I want to write more AUs in that vein, and I might expand more on this at some point).
Enjoy!
Tucker knows it’s coming as soon as the air shifts.
The differences are subtle at first. A faint whiff of ozone, a slight chill to the air as the wind picks up and sweeps the fall leaves into spirals over the ground, and then the hairs on his arms stand on end. Then comes the low-pitched hum, the hiss that sounds like electricity running through high-voltage cables, peppered with the occasional burst of static and awful whining as the air grows heavy and thick, the sky darkening even when moments ago the sun shone brightly above them.
Sam freezes next to him, her fingers clutching her milkshake tightly as her eyes dart from side to side, looking for somewhere to hide until they land on an abandoned house nearby. “Come on,” she insists, tugging at his hand.
“Sam, there’s no way that place is safe, it’s been condemned for years–”
“--and being out here with Phantom is?” she interrupts, and Tucker scowls, knowing that she’s right, but moving from one dangerous spot to another isn’t ideal. There’s nowhere else close enough to go, though, or at least not anywhere they won’t risk getting struck once the lightning starts, and he follows her with a groan and an eye roll. They’re on the porch when the first lightning bolt strikes the pavement nearby, making it explode and sending shrapnel flying that barely misses him and Sam, and thunder roars, painfully loud and close. He slaps his hands over his ears, trying to block out what noise he can, but his ears are still ringing when it stops.
Sam forces one of the windows open and climbs through, with Tucker following shortly after. The house is empty and covered in heavy dust that makes Tucker sneeze as they disturb it, the air almost as oppressive inside as it was out, and in the corner he can see signs of something rotting that he doesn’t dare approach.
The two of them stand at the window even though they both know better. When a ghost that is more an embodiment of the storm than the kind of vague, intangible figure haunting ghost stories becomes a common fixture in town, endless safety lectures and drills become the norm. Knowing what to do in the event of a thunderstorm is the closest the teachers can get to explaining the safety precautions that are necessary when Phantom is about.
He’s only actually seen Phantom once before, when Sam begged him and Danny to go on a ghost hunting trip back in freshman year on Halloween. Tucker wasn’t terribly interested in ghosts, but he was too old for trick-or-treating and not popular enough to score an invite to any parties, so he agreed. Danny did, too, but bailed at the last minute, claiming he felt too tired and sick to go with them.
Tucker tries not to think about Danny too much. The three of them haven’t spoken in close to six months, at least, drifting further and further apart despite his and Sam’s best efforts to stay friends their first two years of high school together. Most days he’s barely in class anymore, and when he is Danny is constantly tucked away in a corner, curling in tightly on himself, careful to avoid getting too close to anyone. Dark circles constantly ring his eyes, his expression hollow and skin too pale. Sam asked Jazz once before she went off to college if Danny was seriously ill and she denied it, even as it was clear something about him had changed since high school started.
“Do you ever talk to Danny anymore?” he asks suddenly, and the shift in conversation as they peer out the window and wait for the elusive Phantom to make his appearance catches Sam off guard.
“No. Does anyone?” she says, her tone resigned as another loud peal of thunder echoes around them, and Tucker swears he sees the house shaking. They argued a few times about what to do and what else to try, never figuring out a way to reach him.
“I guess not.” He turns back to look outside, rubbing his arms as a figure blinks into existence on the road. The features are hard to make out, as always, because of the bright green lightning that flickers across his form, making it nearly impossible to stare at Phantom for too long. His hair looks wispy and white, his eyes swirling pools of green amidst a heavily shadowed face, and his form is hazy and more like smoke or dark clouds in the vague shape of a person, yet there’s an odd solidity in the way that he moves at times, as if by far heavier and present than he ought to be in this inhuman state.
The words that come out when Phantom speaks next aren’t any language humans can hope to imitate, but it’s clearly a form of communication, the ear piercing whine and buzzing reminding Tucker of standing beneath high-voltage wires even as it rises and lowers in pitch and the rhythms shift. There’s an echo to the words, a way it loops through the air as if constantly caught inside a tunnel no matter where Phantom appears, and his voice gets under Tucker’s skin, prickling like static beneath the surface and making him rub his arms more fiercely than before.
Another ghost roars back, his voice full of snarling and hissing, the sounds animalistic even as there’s a mechanical clicking that accompanies it, and Tucker recognizes it and winces as he spots the strange robotic ghost flying in mid-air, green flames cascading down his skull and back, completely unhampered by the rain that is now beginning to steadily fall. The Fentons call him Skulker. The hunter ghost is infamous, stalking his ‘prey’ throughout Amity Park, although what particular creature ends up being his prey in any given week is often impossible to know until it’s too late. Mostly what he hunts are other animals and ghosts, and for whatever reason, Phantom has long been one of his favored targets.
But the ghost stands little to no chance against Phantom.
“Maybe we should get away from the window,” suggests Tucker uneasily as a green blast extends from Phantom’s palm, swirling with crackling green lightning as it lashes out at Skulker, and sparking arcs of electricity dart from it, sparking against a stop sign and dancing across the pavement towards their hiding place. Though no one has ever seen Phantom directly attack a human before, his powers are wild and dangerous, the lightning barely controlled.
And Tucker’s all too aware that just because no one has ever witnessed Phantom attacking someone before doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do it.
“No, I want to watch,” whispers Sam stubbornly as she peers through the window, but her knuckles are white as she grips the window frame. Tucker barely suppresses a sigh as he remains firmly in place. The things he does for his best friend.
His only friend, a quiet voice whispers, but he ignores it.
The fight is brutal, the ghosts barely visible as they attack each other, but the evidence of their fight is everywhere as green fire spirals, intertwining with the lightning amidst the rain. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” says Sam, the lights and shadows dancing in front of them, and he nods despite himself. It’s terrifying, inhuman. The Fentons’ say that ghosts are nothing more than imprints, echoes of post-human consciousness, but as he watches them fight Tucker realizes he’s never truly understood exactly what that means, if they’re spirits or souls or just the fading echoes given some unnatural life at the very moment of someone’s death.
“How do you think Phantom died?” he asks as Skulker slams into the pavement, the machinery smoking and his flames dwindling as the rain comes down harder, and Sam doesn’t answer, likely unable to hear him over the downpour and crackle of thunder. They watch as Phantom looms over Skulker, his indistinct form more monstrous than ever, and then he slams a fist into the machinery, his fingers sharp, black claws that spark as they dig through the metal frame and pull out a shimmering, shifting ghost, so tiny compared to the hulking frame encapsulating it.
The rain begins to slow and Tucker wonders for a moment what Phantom will do, if he will destroy the squirming helpless thing in his hands, but then there’s a soft whisper, the sounds that come from Phantom no longer sending chills down his spine but inviting comfort instead, of an odd sort of warmth and gentleness. The ghost–is it Skulker? Tucker isn’t sure–responds in a mewling, annoyed tone, but stops fighting back as Phantom pulls an odd soup like container from . . . Tucker isn’t sure, actually, just where Phantom pulls it from, but he flicks the cap open with practiced ease and sucks the small ghost inside.
“Isn’t that one of the Fentons’ inventions?” wonders Sam, and Tucker jolts as he realizes she’s right. He remembers seeing it once in one of the assemblies, but the device has rarely appeared in their arsenal since they created the portal guns to send the ghost back to their own dimension instead. “Think he stole it from them?”
“With the level of security they have around that place? Doubt it,” says Tucker. Though it’s been ages since he was last at the Fentons, their ghost security was aggressive enough that it would target sufficiently ecto contaminated humans by mistake, let alone a incredibly powerful ghost like Phantom. Tucker doubts they’ve downgraded their security since then, especially since the number of ghost attacks are only increasing. “Maybe he found it in the trash.”
“Maybe,” she hums, sounding doubtful, and it’s at that moment that the electric green eyes snap towards them, focusing intently, and although it’s too late both Sam and Tucker duck in a futile effort to hide.
“Shit,” hisses Tucker, and Sam shushes him, putting a finger to her lips, but it’s too late as the air in front of them crackles and flickers as a bolt of electricity impossibly strikes the floor in front of them, Phantom appearing within it, his arms wrapped around the thermos. He and Sam flinch as they curl in towards each other, Sam’s hand grasping his own tightly now as the two of them tremble, and he can barely stand to look at Phantom, the electricity arcing along his body too bright.
A hiss of static erupts, the same odd ghost speech as always, but this time Tucker understands it, hearing words within the noise even though that shouldn’t be possible. “You shouldn’t stay here,” says Phantom, the sparks around him diminishing, although now that Tucker can make out his features more clearly it’s almost worse as he opens his mouth to speak, sharp white fangs sparkling within.
“Well where else were we supposed to go with you out there fighting?” grumbles Sam, and Tucker stares at her in horror, unable to believe she would dare to speak to any ghost, let alone Phantom, that way. But the ghost lets out an odd sound, of echoing loops and trills and whirring, and it takes Tucker a second to realize he’s laughing.
“Fair. But this place is haunted,” he replies with a grin, “and the ghost that lives here doesn’t take kindly to intruders.”
“That’s–um–fine,” stutters Tucker, squeezing Sam’s hand tightly before she can utter another word as he forces himself to his feet. “We’ll, um, get going. And, um, thanks.”
The sparks stop running along his body, freezing at midpoints in a way that completely unnerves Tucker, as if the ghost is frozen in a photo instead of standing in front of them. “Thanks?” he repeats.
“For stopping the ghost?” he squeaks out. “And warning us about the, um, other ghost haunting this place?” His voice is so high that Tucker thinks he could sing soprano right now if Phantom asked.
Phantom continues to stare at him, saying nothing and remaining so still Tucker would swear he’s a statue, and eventually Tucker swallows as he grabs Sam’s hand and tries to pull her through the window, but she refuses to budge. “Sam,” he hisses, tugging again. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Not yet,” she insists. “Phantom . . . Are you . . . do you have a place to go?”
“I’m not a lost puppy,” he says, the unnatural stillness rolling off him with a wave of sparks. “And I can’t be near humans for long anyway. It’s hard to control the electricity, and dying from electrocution is a terrible way to go.” There’s a noise behind the words, an echo of long, awful scream that makes Tucker shiver and instinctively realize then that Phantom is speaking from experience, and for the first time it occurs to him that the noises that comprise each ghost’s individual speech aren’t half as random as he believed.
It’s the sound of their death, echoing for eternity, never letting them or anyone else forget. “Is that . . .” asks Sam, wanting to confirm it.
“Yes,” he says simply, and then there’s the sound of something breaking upstairs, a window smashing and shattering, and static prickles against Tucker’s skin. “You should go.”
“Right. And, um, bye, I guess?” says Tucker awkwardly, and finally Sam follows him out the window and back out onto the street. Despite the sounds upstairs, there’s no broken glass outside beneath any of the windows above them, and as he glances back he can see Phantom’s eyes watching, considering them carefully, before another bolt strikes and he vanishes in a clap of thunder, leaving Sam and Tucker alone once more.
#danny phantom#dp fanfiction#electric core au#creepy Phantom#I do not know why I always do creepy Danny fics as a Tucker POV#but here we are again#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#my writing#look i just really like Tucker
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