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Bruce Wayne, on live TV, gets asked who his favorite superhero is. As soon as that question leaves the reporters mouth, Bruce feels his stomach drop. He can’t pick himself, his kids would mock him for days, and he can’t pick any of his kids, as the other ones would probably poison him, and he can’t pick any of the other JL members without them mocking him-
All of a sudden, Bruce’s mind flashes to a small town hero whose profile he had been reading over in his afternoon board meeting. “My favorite hero is Phantom from Amity Park. Not many people know him, but I really admire him and his dedication to the job.”
There, short and sweet and probably going to end with the least amount of mockery.
Meanwhile, in Amity Park, three teenagers gaped at the screen as their homework lay forgotten in their laps. “Danny-”
“what is happening.”
“That was Bruce Wayne-”
“WHAT IS HAPPENING???”
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The Ghost Kid of Gotham
DP x DC Prompt
When Danny told his parents about him being Phantom, he was strapped down to a table and cut open by them. By the time he was saved it was too late, he became a Full Ghost, with it changing because he died a second time, tears constantly flow from his eyes, chains are around his wrists and ankles, leather straps are around his torso, and his logo is no longer seen, just a ripped off part of his hazmat that shows the scar left behind by being cut open.
He doesn't remember much after being saved, just that he had destroyed a lot of things in his grief, Vlad was the one to tell him, and the Fruitloop was in a bad condition when the Halfa came to him. He's the Ghost King, but the council still runs the Infinite Realms, he's just a figure head with a lot of Power and Influence used, all because he doesn't have his human half anymore, he can't make the Infinite Realms better without it, Clockwork told him that with a sadness in his voice.
One thing that Danny can do to make things better is his new power to remove curses by being close to the affected person/object/location, so Clockwork sent Danny to Gotham just as Batman was starting his career as a Vigilante.
Gotham had been cursed a lot in the past, that's why the city is the way it is, Lady Gotham couldn't undo them all herself, so she asked Clockwork, her old friend, for help, he sent Danny, still known as Phantom.
Phantom and Batman first met when Batman had gotten word of a mysterious entity nearby doing something shady, this was Phantom in the middle of removing a curse.
Batman did his usual 'interrogation' tactics, but he was stunned to see a young boy with tears falling from his face, chains on his wrists and ankles, leather straps on his torso and a part of his outfit with a tear in it, showing a autopsy scar.
Phantom had told him what he was doing, and what he is, the Ghost of a Child. This led to Batman seeing if he could help the Ghost move on, all he was told was "I can't move on, she needs help", when asked who 'she' was, all Phantom said was "Gotham" before disappearing.
What Batman didn't know was that he wasn't the only one who was near Phantom, other citizens of Gotham heard what Phantom said to Batman, they believed that Phantom was the Ghost of a Gothamite child who lingers to help the city, they spread the word about what they heard that night.
Over time, Phantom has interacted with many of the big names in Gotham as they appeared, Joker reminds him of Freakshow, but Phantom doesn't attack him, just seeing if playing Jokers games would get the Joker to rethink his ways, thinking Joker is cursed. Before Harleen became Harley, Phantom sought out the Psychiatrist to remember his sister, having told the woman that she sounds like his sister when she helps people. Before Pamela became Ivy, Phantom sought her out to remember his best friend who loved plants. When Croc began to show himself, Phantom seeks him out to talk to him, one of their talks is overhead by citizens, after that talk overheard by the citizens, they try and treat Waylon better. When Scarecrow emerged, Phantom isn't affected by the Fear Gas, but lingers near Crane to remember Fright Knight. Bane almost reminds Phantom of his father, Phantom had cowered during Banes first attack on Gotham with the him nearby, but what Phantom said will stick with the Gothamites and Bad Guys forever.
"Please Dad! Don't hurt me again! Don't put me back on that table!"
After Phantom had said that, the Ghost had run away, leaving Bane, his crew, and many citizens shocked by what Phantom revealed about himself, a child, who was most likely harmed and killed by his own father.
There are others Phantom interacts with. Riddler reminds Phantom of Clockwork, and Phantom both likes and despises Riddler because of that. Grundy is Phantoms regular, as Phantom is drawn to the Zombie because they are the same, undead beings that still linger. Phantom even tries to help the Talons that he runs into, saying that the "Baby Ghosts need to be cleaned of the rotten Ectoplasm in them to be healthy". Leslie reminds Phantom of Frostbite.
When each Robin takes flight, Gotham goes through a positive change in appearance, during Dicks time, it rained less, during Jason's time, there was less Smog in the sky, showing more of the sky during days and nights, when Tim was Robin, Gotham had cleaner air and clearer skies, by the time Damian became Robin, Gotham is as healthy as it could be without the curses affecting it.
Phantom seeks out reporters, running into Vicki Vale during one of her live reports on a attack, he goes up to her, knowing that Gotham's citizens will be watching this broadcast. What Phantom doesn't know, is that both Gotham and its people have grown attached to the Ghost Boy.
"Gotham is healthy, she doesn't need me to help her anymore, it's time for me to go"
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Danny running into a room: Hide me!
Tim: Under my desk! Quick!
Danny: *Jumping the desk* Thank you!
Security Guard running in: Mr. Drake-Wayne! Have you seen a suspicious man pass through here?
Tim: Hmm? No. Is something happening?
Security Guard: A while ago, someone reported that a homeless man was found sleeping in one of our less used bathrooms. It looks like he had been staying there for a while. He had an entire camp set up. He ran as soon as the security was called but we think he's still in the building.
Tim: Wow that's crazy. Hope you catch him
Security Guard: Thank you. I suggest you move down to level 1 until we're sure he's not a danger.
Tim: Of course. I'll be right there.
Tim: *Moving his wheel chair back to stare into Danny's eyes* He's gone.
Danny: Thank you so much for hiding me.
Tim: You're welcome. Take off your clothes
Danny: Excuse me?
Tim: Switch into one of my spare suits. We're going to pretend you're my guest and walked you right pass security.
Danny: Who keeps seven spair complete suits at work?
Tim: *Holding up two ties* I do. Now, this Aqua blue makes your eyes pop, but this classic black with silver stripes gives you a mysterious aura. What are we feeling?
Danny: ....the blue one is nice.
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Idea: The premise is a Reveal Gone Wrong, but Vlad realizes that if Maddie would forsake and vivissect her own son then he stands 0 chance. This causes a bit of a shatter in him where he goes full yandere. Like "If I can't have you no one can." Style where he murders both Jack and Maddie and his Obsession focuses entirely on Danny. Danny can only be his now, they only have each other.
Maybe he goes so far as to track down Dani and maybe Dan is there. But he can't have them rebelling together or trying to rescue Danny so he forces their clone bodies into their real ages and essentially holds them against Danny to make him play out his Family Fantasies.
The DC part of this idea comes in the form of Jazz carefully selecting the most discreet and intelligent heroes available to help her save her baby brother and her niblings. She makes her way to Gotham and with Sam and Tucker's help she pins the bats most likely to be able to help her with their identities as blackmail and demands they help her. She's not a fighter, not the way Danny or someone trained is. She knows that Vlad wouldn't hesitate to kill her as well if she threatened his "ownership" of "every bit" of Danny. She's a little surprised that they're so willing to listen to her about ghosts and the threat that Vlad poses. But it doesn't matter, only her family does.
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Ghost KingConsort?
Prompt: Demon Twins AU where the ghost king is summoned and claims his appearance is that of his beloveds. Shenanigans of a vindictive dead twin.
Danyal Al Ghul escaped from the league. The Lazarus Pits were never merciful but for once, they were. The pits were merciful to him as the green swallowed him and spat him out miles away from that place.
Danny can't forget his first death, the sword in his gut as Damian cut through him. The title of heir was reserved for only one of them and the spare was no longer needed. He supposed it was yet another mercy upon him, knowing that the title of spare was not simple. He would have been Damian's spare—spare parts.
Danny remembers his second death. The electricity that killed him over and over again as the ectoplasm spilled from the artificial portal brought him back to life again and again. One second he was dead, the other he was being revived. It was torturous in every way possible.
It's been years since then. His parents were a difficult case, unable to accept that their darling child had died and continued to believe that Danny was being possessed by the menace Phantom. They hunted him, tried to rip him apart to 'free' their son. It took both himself and Jazz leaving with the help of Vlad (reluctantly accepted) for his parents to stop hunting. Their home that had already felt empty was even more empty now.
It's been almost four years since then. Danny had settled into his role as Ghost King, even when the crown of fire floated over his head then descended to be too big, too much—resting around his neck.
It's... Difficult...
CUT TO THE JUSTICE LEAGUE SUMMONING HIM!
Danny Fenton, nineteen and very much overworked from all the paperwork he had to sort through as Ghost King, finds a small tugging to his very being. A summoning he recognized, sighing loudly before he's answer to this visible desperation. Like it was a world ending issue.
And yes, it apparently was when the fabric of reality itself was tearing itself apart for some strange reason. As the ruler of the infinite realms—the king of the very domain that basically glued the multiverse—this was apparently the right call.
Dressed in all of his kingly regalia, Danny felt the crown of fire float up from his neck and burned over his head. His cape, cloak—whatever—was heavy and he blinked, green eyes boring into every soul present. He recognized the fractured soul of the laughing magician—one of his more irksome subjects that avoided taxes like it was the fucking plague. He really should tell Skulker to haunt his grandfather. Maybe even Youngblood would be suitable.
But aside from the laughing magician, his eyes settled upon a familiar soul, a familiar face. Danny blinks again.
Shit... He thought, staring at the masked yet horrified face of his own twin. Robin was nineteen as well by now, older, stronger—redeemed.
In the past, Danny would have cursed Damian to the seven hells and allowed the seven sins to have a bite. But Jazz was blessing. An older sister who made sure to heal him, to let him grow, to let him develop. He's forgiven Damian for his faults. They were children, brainwashed by a mad man. He's not too angry. Resentful and a bit vindictive? That was a given as he technically was the spirit of a murder victim. Of kinslaying.
"Hellblazer." The language spoken by the dead leaves his mouth easily. It can't be understood by the living, and it was barely understood who came back from death. But John Constantine was a different, more difficult case. One hell of a motherfucker that avoided death until the entity itself was ranting to both Clockwork and Danny about his escapes.
And John Constantine recognized his title regardless of the language.
The sad man in a trench coat stiffened, staring at Danny as he stiffly bowed. "High King Phantom." He greets, and attempt at respect. When there was suddenly movement, Constantine was quick to hiss at the others—glaring at Robin who looked ready lunge at them.
Oh, he can't help himself. This was funny. In the words of his own counterpart turned brother—He could make it worse. Jazz was going to nag him, true, but Danny was so. Utterly. BORED. Being Ghost King had a lot of entertainment, like how he got to fight people and basically hang out with people from the past. But it got... Repetitive. Normal Ghosts wouldn't mind with their eternal afterlife, but Danny was still half-alive. He was completely human—just a half dead one.
"Your majesty—" Constantine struggled to explain, "The universe... Do you know why portals have been opening, your majesty? Forgive my impudence but our world has been plagued by portals from different worlds, some even lead to the infinite realm."
"It's not uncommon for natural portals to the realms to open. Many of your dead like to visit." He smirked, "Many like to haunt those who've wronged them."
Constantine gulped, "Your majesty, would you, by any chance, be aware of why these portals are opening?"
Danny sighed. Well, he can't say he wasn't concerned. This was his world too after all, even when now. It was Jazz's world, where she still went to school, it was Sam and Tucker's world. It was his family's world. So yes, he is concerned.
"The portals to the realms are under my jurisdiction. They are natural and open in my places with thick and ambient ectoplasm." Danny drawls, "But these dimensional portals are strange. I'll check in with the Master of Time to see if someone is meddling with reality. It may not even be from your dimension."
He can only shrug at that, remembering how Dan had practically ripped through time with his madness and rage, tearing through the world to ensure his birth.
"I see, thank you for your understanding, your majesty." Constantine nervously says.
"Say, would you like to watch the battle royale for your soul?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused, magician." Danny rolls his eyes, "But you'd certainly enjoy watching people tear each other to shreds for your fucked up soul. I don't understand why people want it so much when the paperwork it comes with is a hell in itself."
"Your majesty," Constantine paled.
"I'm joking. I'll deal with this as quickly as possible." Danny paused, grinning as he made a show of offering his hand to the justice league. "I couldn't possible sit by and allow my beloved's world to crumble. He'd be devastated."
Constantine blinked. Everyone blinked. And then Danny turned to Damian and... Batman. Bruce Wayne. His father. At least he seemed to be treating Damian better than Jack did with Danny and Jazz.
"You must have recognized this face, yes?" Danny tilted his head. "You are his family."
"What have you done to my brother?" Robin—Damian immediately growled, like a feral cat as he unsheathed his katanas and aimed for Danny.
"Hm." Danny rolled his eyes, "He's well. Very much taken care of." Because yes, Danny was well fed and taken care of, especially as the Ghost King. "I've taken his form so I assumed you knew of him."
He dismissed Robin long before he could even speak, turning to Constantine once again. "Don't fret too much, John Constantine." The man in question flinched once his name was uttered in the language of the dead he could barely understand. "This will be fixed in a days time. If not, I will send someone to deal with it."
The Ghost King's appearance had been startling when they summoned him. A boy with a striking resemblance to Damian if not for his white hair. A twin? Bruce had sounded devastated at the implications. But Damian? He'd seen the ghost king and felt nauseous, unable to tear his eyes away from the eldritch being that wore his brother's face.
It took a lot of explaining once they were back in the cave. The duel, Danyal's death, the Lazarus taking him and he was never seen again. Everyone was... Well, they were devastated. Yes. Grieving a son and brother they never met. But the Ghost King has been summoned with a face similar to that of their father's, a face that was the exact same one to their brothers. The Ghost King who referred to the dead Danyal as his beloved.
It's the next day when they're back in the watchtower, anxiously waiting for any update. Constantine continues to curse under his breath, shaking his head before a portal rips through reality. Everyone stiffened, preparing for the worst.
A girl appears, a child. She's a spry little thing with glowing green eyes, flaming white hair, and a face that they immediately recognized.
"Sorry that I'm late! Times pretty bendy and we don't really keep up with it." The unknown laughs, "Well, short answer, Phantom has identified the problem and has attempted to apprehend it. Unfortunately, it's been a week on our end and the perp apparently fell into your world."
Time distortion—Constantine had mentioned it. But they stare at the girl who rambled about their supposed target until Batman cleared his throat, seemingly softer on the girl—someone who was visibly a child.
"Young lady, welcome to the Watchtower. Even id the greeting it late." Batman curtly yet gently says. "May I know your name?"
Damian faints on the spot.
The girl blinked. "Oh! You can call me Specter, princess of the infinite realms! I'm Phantom and Danny's daughter."
It is then that the possibilities processes in their heads.
One. The Ghost King took the form of his beloved, aka the dead twin brother of one Damian Wayne.
Two. Damian's dead twin and Bruce's dead son might be the queen (consort?) of the infinite realms.
Three. Danyal and Phantom had a daughter. Damian and the rest of the Bar kids were uncles and aunts. Bruce was now officially a grandpa.
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Damian looks at the green letter that simply appeared in his room a few minutes ago. He wasn't sure if he is supposed to be happy or crying.
He still thinks about Danyal all the time. It has been a long time since his brother died. Damian still mournes him two times a year, at their birthday and the day Danyal died.
He told his family, on his fifteenth birthday. Father hadnt been happy but he tearfully hugged Damian the next day and apologized for ever making him feel like he couldn't talk about his brother.
He still thinks of his brother every time he goes to the Watchtower. Father thankfully gives him a minute. Sometimes he joins him too.
But he wasn't expecting this. He looks at the green letter again. He already read it. A bit idiotic, touching an unknown like that. But the code on the side of the letter almost caused him a struck, because it was the code. The code that him Danyal came up with and nobody else knows about.
Dear Damian Wayne
The note reads.
You are invited to the coronation of the Prince of the Infinite Realms, Danyal 'Danny' Phantom, formerly Al-Ghul. The coronation is set to take place two weeks from now. As a part of the Royal Family, you are obligated to join the coronation at your brother's side. You are to wear formal clothes of whichever culture you subscribe to. A knight will take you to place at which coronation is set to take place.
The letter continues on and on about the coronation, about his brothers numerous titles, about proper ettique and many more things. But Damian does not care about that.
What was the possibility of this thing being fake? Maybe, but he doesn't think so. The code alone would confirm its authenticity.
A knock sound from the door and his father enters the room with a familiar copy of the green letter in his hands.
---------------------------------------------------
Constantine has been looking at the letter for the past ten minutes and he looks more like he is about to faint with each line he reads. Finally Damian can't hold it anymore.
"Say something magician! Is that thing real? What is the Infinite Realms!? "
Constantine looks up from the letter and takes out a cigarette to smoke, only to put it down at his father's glare.
"Of course you people would get tangled in the business of the bloody Infinite Realms." Constantine stops for a second. "Basically it's the dimension between dimensions. Thing of it like the glue holding the multiverse together. It's also where ghosts live."
Oh.
Of course.
Damian is an idiot for thinking his brother might be alive. Danyal is dead.
He hears his father turn around and sitting down on the bat computer.
"Ghost?" Richard thankfully asks. "Like Deadman?"
"No."
As Constantine starts a lecture about the difference between magical and ectoplasmic ghosts, Damian's mind wanders towards his brother again.
His brother is still dead, he still died. And of course his brother, his wonderful, idiotic, amazing brother would somehow make himself a king of an entire dimension after death. One of the strongest beings in existence, according to Constantine.
"Damian!" Richard is snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Are you alright? "
"I am fine." Damian says, "I am fine." He repeats a second later.
"It would be a shock if I learned my brother is going to be a king." Constantine is staring him weirdly. "How in the bloody hell that happened? I never knew bats had another kid."
"Doesn't matter." Damian snarks, "Is it safe to assume this coronation will take place in this Infinite Realms? "
Constantine shrughs his shoulders.
"Wouldn't know. Not exactly my area of expertise."
Great, just great.
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Distracting Birb! Part 28
*throws this and runs* Masterpost
“So what did you find out?” Tim asked as he spun around. He was at the computer, of course, and looked most of the way to villainy backlit by the large screens.
(Dick loved his little brother, but villainy really wouldn’t be the most surprising outcome for Tim.)
“What makes you think we found anything?” Jason answered, just to be impertinent.
Tim rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have called us all down to the Cave if you didn’t have anything.”
Jason scoffed. “You underestimate how willing I am to waste your time.”
“Boys,” Cass said calmly, ending the growing argument with just that word.
“Duke still out on patrol?” Dick asked as a distraction.
Tim glanced over his shoulder and back at the screen. “On his way back. He’ll be here in fifteenish.”
Best not to wait in case Danny woke, Dick decided. They’d be sure to fill him in. “Okay. Well, Danny was not lying, he has a lot of plants.”
“Dick managed to turn on the watering system. We’re all very proud of him,” Jason said flatly.
The siblings all golf clapped, which Dick took a dramatic bow to. “Thank you, thank you. Otherwise a pretty normal apartment. Comfortable, a little nerdy, and not fussy.”
Jason nodded. “There’s a hero—not sure if someone real or fictional—that we saw a few times. Someone called Phantom.”
Obliging, Dick sent the photo of the mug from the bathroom up onto one of the screens. Tim spun back to the computer and started searching.
“There were also a lot of medication in his cabinet; vitamins and several prescriptions also. Some of them had weird labels.”
“Damn, Dick, you couldn’t have gotten a clearer photo?” Tim asked as he squinted at the new set of images.
“As much as I hate to defend Dick,” Jason said as he added photos of his own to the screen, ‘that is a clear photo. Danny was writing in the same language along with English in a bedside notebook of his.”
“Are you in need of glasses, Drake?” Damian asked as he looked from the photos to Tim with a judgmental brow raised.
Tim flicked him off, which Dick considered telling Tim off for (Damian had enough bad habits), but was actually curious about this. “No. The text looks glitched out.’
“No,” Damian said slowly and with a scowl, “it is clear. Odd, but clear.”
“Cass?” Dick asked.
She moved a step closer to the television, head tilted. There was a long, quiet moment before she lifted her hand a gave a so-so motion.
Tim looked from her, to Damian, to the screens. “…Dick?”
“So that’s the thing, it looks wrong to me too. If I look at it too long it’s like it gives me a headache. Jason can read it though.”
Jason snorted. “That’s taking it a bit far. I feel like I should be able to read it. I can get a word here or there maybe.”
“Like it whispers,” Damian said, the quiet words oddly poetic for the youngest of them.
“…yeah, like it whispers,” Jason agreed, just as softly.
“Right, okay. Freaky language that only some of us can even see, much less read, and those who can have spent a lot of time in or around the league,” Tim said. “How concerned do we need to be able this? To we need to be concerned about this? I feel like we need to be concerned about this.”
None of them had an easy answer for Tim.
All of them were grateful for the roar of Duke’s bike interrupting the conversation as he pulled into the cave.
“What are you all looking some grim about?” Duke asked. He yanked his helmet off and took a deep breath, like he hadn’t been able to breath in hours.
It was a feeling they all got. Even a good patrol was draining and Duke had been actively on follow up over what had gone down today with the Mad Hatter. Dick tossed a towel Duke’s way and went to grab a drink for the other from the food safe fridge.
“Stuff from Danny’s place. Take a look at the screen,” Jason said.
“Danny? I thought that we liked the guy,” Duke said, accepting the drink with a grateful thank you. He drained half of it his the way to the screens. “Shit, that’s a lot of meds.”
“Take a closer look,” Jason said, though not unkindly.
Duke stepped closer to the screen.
And went alarmingly still.
Dick resisted the instinctual urge to reach out and grab him. “Duke?”
Duke gave an answering hum and turned his head, just slightly, towards Dick. His eyes never left the screen. Dick wasn’t sure if Duke had really heard him. It was Jason who ended up acting, ended up listening to that instinct. He stepped between Duke and the screen, blocking their newest brother’s view. Duke sucked in a sharp, startled breath.
“What?”
“Hey, come on, have a seat,” Jason said and guided Duke backwards into one of the chairs at the table.
Tim swiftly cleared the photos from the screen.
Duke shook his head. “Sorry, man, I don’t know what… that, huh. What did those look like to you all?”
“Magenta tinted pill bottles with different levels of medication in them,” Tim replied calmly. “Dick and I can’t read what’s printed on them. Damian, Jason, and maybe Cass can a little which means it might be League writing of some sort.”
Dick leaned against the table. “What did you see, Duke?”
“Magenta tinted pill bottles with something in them. Like whatever it was my powers were weird about it. I’d have to see them in person to know anything about why, I guess, but they were… I don’t know. But whatever that stuff was I don’t think it’s League because I don’t think it’s human. I don’t think it’s earthly.”
“Well, fuck,” Dick said with a sigh.
He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
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I’m not sure where this is gonna go yet but I woke up out of a dead sleep and had to write this down before I forgot it
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#holiday request
Another chapter of Alley Boyfriends, if you don't mind, I love it so much. If not, no worries. I love your work and love to reread your stuff. May your food be filling and your bills be paid!
Danny carefully adds the finishing touches to the seahorse he’s carefully designing on the surface of Tim’s mug of coffee. He’s been practicing his latte art because business has been slow at Heart Attack in secret. The previous week, he had seen Tim watching videos of strangers creating works of art using the foams of their coffee with blatant awe.
The Halfa will admit to the sight of wonder on Tim’s face when the flashier artist created swans with colored foam, and his heart gave the oddest flutters. It had been so brief but intense that Danny had feared a new power was unlocking in their living room.
Thankfully, the moment passed quickly, but Tim’s expression lingered in his mind. Danny had abandoned the piano to search somehow for videos of latte art within the next minute of that strange heart flutter.
Danny had learned how to play from Wes in an ill-fated attempt to get the ginger to date him. Danny hadn’t been able to get the ginger to be his boyfriend, but he learned a skill he enjoyed. His parents bought him a second-hand stage piano that he had used for the few years he lived with them.
It broke sometime in senior year- he thinks Young Blood had blasted him through it- and he hadn’t bothered getting a replacement. Mainly because he couldn’t be concerned, as it was a hobby he hadn’t time to participate in once he got close to graduation. It would have remained a forgotten past time had the apartment not come with the grand piano.
The sound was so much richer, with a resonating tone that bypassed his skin and sunk into his soul. Danny could not let the thing of beauty go to waste. He often found himself sitting on the bench, letting his fingers dance off the keys, finding melodies and rhythms that welcomed him home like a returning hero of a fairy tale.
He didn’t think he was skilled at it, but sometimes, when he played, Tim would move closer. His eyelids would flutter close, lying on the nearby couch and listening to Danny play with a half-smile on his face. Sometimes, Tim would fall asleep, seemingly at peace, as Danny strung through Dance of the Blessed Spirits only a few feet away.
Despite all the coffee Danny had provided him with, Tim was starting to develop a better sleeping schedule. The bags under his eyes slowly faded, and he was physically fit. Tim used their apartment building gym all the time, but his skin was gaining a glow previously not there.
He also seems much happier. Danny checked off another box of Tim being a ghost in development, with his Heart Attack Coffee being a big part of his obsession. Maybe it would not be his sole purpose when he passed, but Danny suspected that the coffee was associated with a good memory that fundamentally shaped Tim’s sense of self.
Danny didn’t like to think too hard about it. He’s gotten comfortable with death, seeing it as a natural part of life now that he spent so much time around the Death-Brought Ghosts, but the idea of Tim passing always twisted his heart into knots.
Sharp, painful knots that leave him fleeing from the dark thoughts as fast as possible. It would be years before Tim would no longer be part of this world. He had better things to do, like adding bubbles and seaweed around the seahorse and taking time to add as many little details as he could to create the scene of a lovely underwater image.
Danny finishes just as the kitchen clock- an expensive cuckoo clock that had golden trimmings, blending so well with the dark wood and gorgeous forest theme carvings that Danny had fallen in love with the second he spotted it at a street art festival that the pair had stumbled upon during a drive they took. Tim bought it when he realized Danny liked it, and it hung up that night. - goes off with a loud chime.
Another day has officially ended.
His roommate would be up soon for whatever he does at nighttime, where he vanished for hours, coming home nearly always after witching hours, exhausted and bruised. Danny would linger in the living room for a bit if he was awake before heading to his room with a half-made excuse.
Tim would then sleep for a few hours before he was up again, rushing around the apartment to gather his things and be out for his daytime work. A lot of his job he can do at home, but Tim was important enough that he sometimes had to go to work in person.
In the three weeks that the two have moved in together, Danny hasn’t been braved enough to ask what his roommate did for a living. He knows Tim held some big corporate job- where and what he did there was a mystery- but his second job was vague and downright denied at worst.
Whenever Danny hinted so much about what he was doing at night, Tim moved the subject away. He didn’t flat out deny answering Danny’s probing, as more as he danced around the question so well, Danny found himself waltzing in a different direction before he realized what had happened. Tim had a silver tongue that was wielded like a sword, sharp, cutting, and deadly.
It was mildly alarming, mainly because Danny had no idea what Tim was involved in. Something big, something likely bad. It could be the only explanation for the large amount of seemingly never-ending funds and the odd hours that Tim kept.
A boring office worker by day and who knows what by night.
He also always came back home half stumbling over his feet. There was even that one time when Tim had been half-dressed, his knuckles split, and hard anger set at his jaw. Danny had been caught up with a new show, only realizing the late hour once his roommate had practically shut the door.
The pair stared at each other. Danny bathed in the glow of the TV while Tim was shirtless and standing in the shadows of the front door. He wanted to ask thousands of questions, but Danny had only lifted the heated blanket- a gift from Tim- when he learned how affected Danny was by the cold.
Tim’s face softened as he barreled into the warmth and snuggled into the couch cushions, joining Danny in watching a Korean rom-con that the Halfa had been in the middle of. He had no idea what the plot was or who the characters were, but by the end of the third episode, Tim’s head had fallen on Danny’s shoulder so deeply asleep that he didn’t feel Danny wrapped up his knuckles or carried him to his room.
Despite this, Danny didn’t move out. He didn’t stop providing Tim with his much-loved coffee. If anything, he took his worries, boxed them up, and stubbornly turned a blind eye to the worrying signs that Tim was showing.
A door opens behind him. Tim walks out, an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder as he speed walks through the living room. His roommate is scrolling on his phone, tapping a rapid-fire response to whoever he is chatting with. Danny could see the bubble messages screen even if he couldn’t make out the words before sighing. “I’ll be out all night. I’ll probably be back tomorrow around noon.”
A pool of dread piles in his stomach, but Danny pushes it away. “Alright.”
He holds out the mug, drinking in every facial feature shift as surprise blooms over Tim’s face before it melts into tenderness when he sees the shape of the latte art. It was painstaking to learn how to make a realistic-looking one on such a problematic canvas, but Danny is happy he spent time on it. After all, Tim’s favorite animal was the seashore, so he needed to make sure it looked good.
Only a few people knew that from what Danny gathered from Tim's few mentions while working on their three notebooks. He also thinks Tim doesn’t often tell people his favorites, but Danny has been paying close attention whenever Tim reacts positively to the world around him. The way Tim’s eyes sparkled when Danny clicked on a sea documentary where the small, shaped fish had been a main feature. Danny had found it adorable how Tim seemed unaware that he would randomly blurt out a new fun fact about the seahorses in the following few days.
“When you learn to make this?” Tim asks, curling his fingers around the mug. Danny’s heart leaps in his chest at the tender warmth glowing in Tim’s eyes as he gazed at him. Coughing into his hand, he waves his hand.
“I had some time since there hadn’t been a lot of customers lately. Ever since that Dr. Freeze threat, people have been avoiding the café.” Danny ignores the guilt he feels about that.
The other day, his powers had gone out of control after he made the mistake of going too long without using his ice, and when he developed that stupid head cold, he accidentally froze the street.
One coughing session later, the entire neighborhood ran to take shelter, panicking that the rouge had chosen their homes for his newest mayhem. Thank goodness the villain had actually broken out of Arkham the previous day, so no one batted an eye at the fact the ice surrounding a single barista was in the middle of closing up for the night.
“It’s amazing, Danny,” Tim tells him, quickly snapping a picture with his phone before he takes a sip. His eyelashes flutter as he savors the flavor, this one is the original Batman theme coffee that Heart Attack discontinued.
Danny found the receipt in an older binder while doing inventory. Tim had tackled him in an enthusiastic hug the second he tried it and recognized the familiar taste.
“Thanks.” He blushes, trying not to notice that the bubbles have shifted slightly, resembling hearts instead of circles. Moving his eyes away from where the foam disappears into Tim’s lips, Danny mentally kicks himself for being weird about his fake boyfriend’s drinking.
He picks up the mug lid on the counter, turning it around in his hands while Tim takes another quick sip. There is some leftover steam milk on his lips when he pulls away, and the colorful seahorse is gone now. His core pulses, making a shiver run down his spine as Tim’s pink tongue darts out to lick away the teal green.
Danny coughs again as frost gathers on his back. Thank goodness he can feel it on his skin, which means it likely hasn’t passed through his comfortable sweater. He hasn’t told Tim about his powers, and he isn’t sure he wants to.
Gotham is an anti-meta city. Tim was as Gotham as they came. He can’t stand the thought of his roommate growing to hate him, especially for something that wasn’t precisely meta, but was the closest thing he was.
He leans forward, carefully sealing the mug. This was one of Tim’s favorites among his collectible mugs, primarily because it could shift into a traveling beverage holder.
Tim smiles at him. “I’m heading out then. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, stay safe,” Danny tells him to walk him to the front door. He stands there, feeling like he’s waiting for something to happen. But he isn’t entirely sure what that is, so all he does is lean against the wall as Tim slips on his running shoes, juggling his drink, phone, and bag. Danny smiles warmly when Tim raises his mug at him in a fast toast before he slips through the door, leaving their apartment with a soft “Sleep well, Danny.”
The wood of their door seals shut without a sound- apparently, the rich didn’t believe in noise because everything in the apartment was somehow soundproof. Tim moved like a shadow, rarely making a sound. Danny, by comparison, sounded like a bull in a china shop.
Once, when Danny apologized, Tim laughed.
“I like it, " he said while lounging in the hot tub on the balcony. Danny was on the other side, the warm water doing wonders for the frost forming at the bottom of his feet. Thankfully, the water hid it from Tim’s sight. “It’s like you breathe life into the apartment with your noise.”
“Stay safe,” Danny says to the empty apartment. “Come home tomorrow.”
He rubs his face and figures he should head to be. It was ten at night, but Tim clarified that he wouldn’t return anytime soon. He’s tired from the previous three nights when he waited for Tim to come home. Thankfully, his shifts had been moved to the afternoon, so it didn’t mean much if Danny stayed up until three am for his roommate.
He strides by his piano, running his hand along the closed case of the keys without seeing it, for his gaze is locked on the city that glows under his window. It’s been nearly a month, and he’s still not used to the view of Gotham from this height. The penthouse towers over most of Gotham, and the city seems beautiful from up here. A Decorative lie of the danger that waited in the wake of anyone down on their luck.
This place was like a Siren. Beautiful and alluring until its claws and teeth dug into someone’s skin, dragging them to the darkest depths where no one could hear their screams. He prays that whatever Tim is involved doesn’t let Gotham swallow him whole.
Danny’s fingers accidentally come upon cloth, making him snap his chin down to see what had been placed on the wood and blink at the side of Tim’s discarded sleeping long-sleeve shirt. His roommate peeled it off earlier tonight when he wanted to walk around in his shirt sleeve and flung it somewhere to take a quick nap before he left.
His fingers close around the fabric, slowly bringing it up to his face, breathing in Tim’s distinctive scent mixed with the soft lavender of his fabric softener. Danny hesitates for only a few seconds before taking off his sweater and slips on Tim’s long sleeve, allowing himself to find comfort in the familiar scent surrounding him.
He lets his sweater pool on the floor in the living room as he wanders to his room, crashing under his blankets and pressing the fabric of Tim’s clothes to his face. Eventually, he is lured to sleep, dreaming of playing in Gotham’s largest theater, hands flying over the keys at a skill level he does not possess. He moves with the music, uncaring that the seats are empty except for one.
That one belongs to Tim, who watches him perform with the same tenderness as his latte art inspired, but instead of a drink, Danny’s music causes that expression.
It’s the best dream he had in a long while.
As he dreams, he is unaware of the figure checking in on him, hanging from a grabbing hook near his window. The figure smiles when its white lens notices how Danny is curled up in a ball before it zips to the roof, their cap flaring behind them.
When they land, they reach up to link on their com "Red Robin reporting for duty. Where is Dr. Freeze's last known location? I want him caught tonight."
"Good night to you, too," Oracle responds. "Any particular reason we're in such a hurry for the capture of Dr. Freeze."
"He's making it hard for the hard-working people of Gotham to work," He huffs, knowing the rest of the bats will correctly link his complaint to his roommate.
There is a loaded pause before Red Hood grunts. "I got good news for you then. Dr. Freeze has spotted this very afternoon. Meet up at Heart Attack by Crime Alley to compare notes in an hour."
"I'm on my way."
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Danny is not a murder victim, why would gothamitys think that?
Short promp
Danny was just helping some lady in Gotham, as she almost got robbed.
Stuff like that happens.
He got a few people out of burning houses.
Saved some people's from falling somewhere.
Why do people suddenly think he is some sort of holy ghost?
He is also not the ghost of a murder victim, how did that even came up?
Why is batman after him and promised that he will find his murderer, he was not murdered.
Why does Robin think he is in denial?
Yeah Danny just does his thing and goes to college he can just help people and fly away from batman.
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Barry Allen’s relationship to the Speedforce is very science based because of the technological 50s and focus on nuclear technology and sciences in general media.
Wally Wests relationship to the Speedforce is spiritual because new wave religious movement was big in the 90s. A primary focus of the bad guys Wally fights in his comics are cults too because of this.
With that in mind: I feel like there should be a lot more ideas where Wally West handles various ghost king summoning cults rather than the Bats. That man experiences cults every other day istg.
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Rest of 26 birbness
to help sate your cravings masterpost
The door clicked open. “Over thinking things, Master Bruce?”
“Always,” Bruce replied softly and with a slight smile. He turned enough to watch Alfred enter the room with a tray of hot drinks and some light snacks. There was an odd mass of fabric on the edge of the tray that Bruce looked at curiously.
“A top for Master Danny,” Alfred said. After the tray was set down, Alfred held up the garment. It was and old Gotham Knights sweater, though Bruce couldn’t place who’s it was. His, likely, from the size. The back had been cut open from the bottom and up to provide wing slits. Alfred had mended on additional fabric and added button holes so that the sweater could be fastened under the wings. “Hardly the knit sweater that had to be cut off, but the modified sweatshirt will fit around his wings and hopefully keep him warm until we are able to procure something more professionally made.”
“Thank you, Alfred. I am sure that will make him much more comfortable,” Bruce said. It would have been hard to miss how much Danny didn’t enjoy his scars being on display.
“And less likely to become ill,” Alfred said as he passed Bruce one of the warm cups of tea with a pointedly raised brow.
Bruce took a sip.
“Now,” Alfred continued, “as I am sure that you have seen, your children are arriving in droves. I suspect even your not children will be here tonight to assure that all is well. To that end, dinner will be served at seven tonight.”
Bruce gave a little nod. “I will make sure that we are both there and sufficiently awake.”
“Please do so and remember that Master Danny may wish to have some time to freshen up before he has to face the gaggle that is this family.”
“Right.” Bruce said after a brief pause.
While he could certainly understand that the family was overwhelming, it hadn’t hit that Danny might still find them overwhelming. A silly thought. Danny had only been around a large amount of them twice: once as bats and once at the ballet. Bruce had to reluctantly admit that Alfred had a point and as Alfred had taken to calling Danny ‘master, Bruce did not want to risk any upset.
He set an alarm on his phone for half an hour before dinner just to be safe.
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Die Screaming, Live Laughing
Danny/Tim, Cyan, Wind through tree branches/Windchimes @wisteriavines @darkstarsapocalypse (I saw you before you changed that! Twins!)
cw:bar parent fentons, more temporary character death, bones
The faint, mechanical whir under his fingertips as he spins the camera lens comforts Tim. The fiddling is familiar from the years of following Bats and crime across the city. The rooftops of Gotham are an environment that he’s far more familiar with than here. Here is nothing but endless trees and leaves.
Well, somewhere here is also the campgrounds and Bernard, Ives, Steph, and Cass; but that’s far out of sight and almost out of mind. It’s easy, as he listens to the wind rustle through the trees, to feel like nothing exists but the trees and Tim and his camera.
He spins the lens again.
Ostensibly, the four of them are in these woods to find Mothman. Which would be cool! But even Tim, who proposed this whole thing, knows that it’s just an excuse for the four of them to do something away from Gotham. To do something to make actual use of their summer between high school and college.
If Tim went to college, that is.
He’d been accepted, sure, but he… he just didn’t know if he wanted to. It felt like there were more important things to be doing than college. College was sitting in a classroom and listening to someone drone on about a subject that Tim could crash course himself on with the right library access in a month. It also meant new people and new noises and maybe even a new home. None of that sounds great, really. Moving in with Bruce to Wayne Manor had been enough change, thank you very much.
Tim’s foot catches on something and he does a half step to keep his balance. He expects to see a tree root when he glances down. It’s bone instead. That’s not… unexpected. They had already seen deer in the woods, the creatures got stupidly close to the campsite. It would make sense that with the big rains the few weeks before, there could have been old remains uncovered. But there’s something…
The dirt brushes away easily from the surface of the bone and, with a little digging, Tim is able to pull it free of the earth.
This isn’t a deer bone.
Tim knows this shape.
This is human. A femur.
“You have to be careful where you’re walking out here.”
Tim stands and spins, the femur held like his staff would be.
The speaker is leaning against a tree several feet away. The golden, setting sun backlights them, making them look almost angelic with how they’re wreathed in light. They’re hard to look at.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tim says, plastering on a nervous smile that was only half for show. How did they sneak up on him? That should have been impossible with the leaves and branches scattered across the forest floor. “Do you run into animal skeletons a lot out here?”
“Not really,” they say with a shrug before they start forward towards Tim. Their steps are silent. “I don’t really get around. And also, that’s not an animal skeleton.”
“No?” Tim’s grip on the femur tightens. “How do you know that?”
“How? Well, that’s because it’s mine!”
Tim swings.
The femur goes right through the stranger.
“Sorry! Little intense, I get it!” They back up a step and raise their arms. The dappled sunlight shines right through their hand. Shines right through them like the stranger is just made out of gossamer. “I get it, but be careful with that, please? It’s my arm! Or leg? No, leg.”
“Leg, it’s a femur,” Tim says, his mouth running without him as his brain works.
“Leg. Ancients, I miss having legs. And arms… and, well, anything solid really,” the stranger sighs. “I am sorry for scaring you. Just… it’s hard not to get a little intense when someone is holding one of my bones, you know?”
“Oh shit! That’s right, sorry,” Tim stammers as he hurries to put the femur back down on the disturbed earth. “Do you— I mean, should I rebury it? Did the rains washing away the earth, um, wake you up?”
“Kinda?” They tilt their head as they crouch down next to Tim.
It’s clear now, as they move a bit out of the light, how transparent they are. It’s like in the shadow they lose tangency. Their hair is still just as blinding, being bright white in a way that’s really beautiful. They reach out to touch the femur but stop short.
“I’m tied to my bones. It’s why they dumped them all the way out here. After they killed me, I mean, all the way killed me, I haunted the fuck out of them. And yeah, sure, they could hurt this form of me too, but I always found a way out and then it all started again. Burying my bones was the only way to get rid of me, and those fuckers didn’t even scratch me a headstone in the tree or anything. Some parents, huh?”
“Holy— yeah,” Tim says. Looking back down at the other partially exposed bones he has to swallow back a wave of sadness. “Is that a yes to covering them up?”
“Actually… I’d like you to dig them up. I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get justice or whatever, but I’d… I’d like to be somewhere proper and under my name.”
“What is it? Your name?”
“Danny.”
“Okay, Danny,” Tim gives a little nod and starts digging. “My friends and I will get you somewhere you feel safe. I’m Tim, by the way.”
“Thank you, Tim.”
Danny doesn’t help dig. He can’t, he explains as Tim and him talk. While his bones are buried, he’s not able to interact with them or else he would have gotten them out of there a long time ago. They learn together that as soon as the bones are free and set gently aside that Danny can touch them.
Tim never thought he’d see someone so emotional over a tibia, but Tim can’t blame the guy. Tim figures he’d be emotional over his own bones too.
The big bones are the easiest. The ribs Tim is extra careful with. The fingers are weirdly like peanut shells in his hand. (He’s not going to eat pb&j for weeks now.) Danny chats the whole time, asking Tim about the world. Tim feels wholly inadequate to catch someone up like that, but when conversation turns to technology Tim settles into a rhythm.
It also lets them figure out that while Danny died just shy of nineteen, he’s apparently spent almost two decades in the ground. He still looks just shy of nineteen. He looks like he should be in the forest for the same reason that Tim is, celebrating the end of one era and the start of the next. Danny should be looking to the future, not mourning it.
It makes Tim pause when he finally unearths Danny’s skull. What would it have been like to see Danny smile? To hear him laugh without that faint echoing quality that he has as a ghost? To touch him?
“I’m sorry,” Tim says and holds out the skull. Danny’s skull.
“Thank you,” Danny whispers. His hands tremble as he reaches out towards the skull. He crumples forward before he can touch it, a sob tearing through him.
“I’ll make sure you’re somewhere nice.
“Thank you.” Danny lets out a breath he doesn’t have and sags forward the last inch. His forehead bumps against the skull.
Then he keeps going forward.
The world explodes into light.
-
“Tim?!”
“Are you sure he’s still alive?”
“You can see him breathing, Bernard.”
“Pulse.”
“Tim!”
Tim gasps awake and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. His friends and sister stand clustered above him. It has gotten dark and their flashlights are blinding.
“You okay?” Cass asks.
“Ow.”
“Yeah, he’s okay,” Steph sighs. “Hey Tim, who the fuck is that?”
“Wha—” Fuck his head hurts. Who the fuck is who?
Oh, the person laying in his arms. The person who’s solid and warm and alive.
Tim starts laughing.
“Okay, maybe a little not okay,” Steph amends.
“Is he ever?” Tim hears Ives mutter.
“Guys,” Tim interrupts them discussing his status once he can breathe again. “This? This is Danny.”
“Being alive again hurts,” Danny mumbles against Tim’s neck and Tim can’t help it, he just starts laughing again.
Being alive does hurt, but fuck if that isn’t wonderful sometimes.
---
AN: So this one got away from me a little but, uh... tada? I was planing to have it all explained more, but once Danny didn't purposefully do it, that didn't fit. Basically all if his frankly absurd powers and as a ghost got jump started by his skull and Tim's lifeforce and tada? 100% pulled some from Tim's Gotham Knights character where he's an awkward little bean who is so not neurotpyical. Him and Bernard taking a vacation to hunt Mothman is from that too.
Anyways, stay delightful, darlings!
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Danny stopped so suddenly that Conner had to use some effort not to run into the other. The entrance to the row house was tight, crowded in by the coats and bags hanging on the wall and the small table on the other side that was littered with mail, take out menus, and a few sets of keys.
“You said you wouldn’t do this anymore.”
Danny’s whole body was a line of angry tension. Conner leaned forward enough to see over Danny’s head. He could just catch sight of a brick of a man that almost rivaled Dad and bright red hair.
“Well, Danny, honey—”
“No! Mom, we talked about this!” Danny thew his hands up into the air. His backpack slipped down his shoulders some when he dropped his arms just as suddenly. “When we moved, you both promised no more experiments out of the lab! A lab which is now at work in a whole different location. A lab which is not our home!”
“Come on, Dann-o,” the man said, “it’s just a little engineering!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a that club of yours right now anyways?” Danny’s mom asked.
“What, because me not seeing this would make it all okay?” Danny scoffed. “Besides, that’s Thursday.”
“It is Thursday,” Danny’s dad (Conner assumed) said, then paused before continuing. “Isn’t it?”
“No, Dad, it’s Wednesday.” Danny sounded so done. All of the earlier anger was gone now and Danny just sounded done. He rubbed at his face wearily. “If it was Thursday, you’d have to already be leaving for Jazz’s debate competition.”
Danny’s mom gave a little noise that was almost a scoff. “That’s next week, Danny.”
“It’s—you know what, whatever. Just, whatever.” Danny turned his back on his parents and shoved the straps of his backpack back into place. He hooked his hand around Conner’s wrist as he passed, pulling Conner along (not that Conner couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to) and back outside.
Danny’s breath fogged up in the cold fall air, drifting up and around Danny’s face as he looked up at the sky.
“I’m sorry.”
“Dude, you don’t have to apologizes,” Conner said. He wasn’t even sure what Danny was apologizing for. His parents? Losing his tempter? Conner couldn’t just either of those things. Parents were just parents and he lost his temper more than enough.
“Still, I said we could work at my place and then I just…”
“We passed, like three coffee shops on the way here. We’ll just pick one of those, okay?”
Danny closed his eyes and let out another slow breath. “Okay.”
Still Danny still hadn’t let go of his wrist, Conner just twisted his hand in the other’s grip and twined his own warm fingers with Danny’s too cold ones. “Come on, I got us.”
He didn’t wait for Danny to respond before he started them back down the streets of Metropolis.
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Okay, I have A Thought.
So I've seen around a few times that Danny's heart stops and freaks out people with superhearing, particularly Superman and his family. Que the freaking out because this child's heart has stopped and they haven't even seemed to notice.
But what if Danny keeping his heart beating takes effort? He has to focus on it at least a little all the time to seem more human. But if he's relaxed because he's, say, gaming over at Tucker's, he stops paying attention to if his heart is beating or not, and it stops. Sort of like how if you're walking around in a place you don't know in the middle of the night, you're tense and worried, but once you make it to a little area or a place you know better you stop being so nervous.
All that to say, having a beating heart is a stress response for halfas. And, like any other stress response, having it be constantly active can have long term negative effects. This was discovered by Frostbite shortly before Danny told his parents about being a halfa, and in fact influenced that decision. It turned out well, and Danny's heart began to stop more and more frequently while at home, to the point that it rarely ever beats at home now.
So que Phantom joining the League through some shenanigan or another, and together they're working to dismantle the Anti-Ecto Acts. The League knows he's powerful, but he's paranoid enough that he hasn't told them about the whole "half dead" thing. He's wandering around the Watchtower, chatting with Superman as they walk past a window that looks out into space. Danny's chatting about his weekend plans with Sam and Tuck, Superman's chatting about his upcoming visit to Ma and Pa's farm, and suddenly the kid's heart just stops.
And Superman freaks out. Because there is a child right next to him having a heart attack and seemingly not knowing.
He rushes Phantom to the medbay, only for his heart to be beating again? And the kid looks really freaked out and confused now. So he apologizes, explains what he heard, or rather didn't hear, and asks if it's an arrhythmia or something.
And now Danny, poor, socially awkward, barely a sophomore in high school Danny, gets to explain that sometimes, if he's really happy and content and feels safe, his heart stops and it is actually a good thing.
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1/3
Dcxdp Trope twist
Danny hadn’t expected that defeating Pariah Dark would make him the ghost king, and give him a truckload of paperwork. If he had known, he would’ve let Vlad fight him. He despised paperwork with a passion. So, when the Justice League summoned him asking for help, he made it clear he would as long as three of their members would assist him with a task. Admittedly, he had been in his big scary king form so there may have been some slight confusion.
Batman surveyed the room full of paperwork, the teenager who looked like he was about to cry, and back to Martian Manhunter and Wonderwoman. Then, he sat down and started sorting through the paperwork.
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1/3
Dcxdp Trope twist
Danny hadn’t expected that defeating Pariah Dark would make him the ghost king, and give him a truckload of paperwork. If he had known, he would’ve let Vlad fight him. He despised paperwork with a passion. So, when the Justice League summoned him asking for help, he made it clear he would as long as three of their members would assist him with a task. Admittedly, he had been in his big scary king form so there may have been some slight confusion.
Batman surveyed the room full of paperwork, the teenager who looked like he was about to cry, and back to Martian Manhunter and Wonderwoman. Then, he sat down and started sorting through the paperwork.
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