reallyspookynamehere - Tumblr blog

[reallyspookynamehere]

Deadman looked up from the shoddily-crafted pamphlet before him, meeting the gaze of a smirking Danny Fenton.

"How to be friendly to your ghostly comrade without revealing you can see ghosts!"

"I'm in."

[reallyspookynamehere]

Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

[reallyspookynamehere]

you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

[reallyspookynamehere]

DP X DC PROMPT

The Condiment King (represented by Two Face) and the Dairy King (represented by Jazz) go to court for custody of cheese sauce.

[reallyspookynamehere]

I'd love to see a dpxdc story where the Justice League knows about Amity Park and the Ghosts the whole time, and does think the ghosts are rogues to be addressed. Doesn't agree with the GIW, maybe doesn't even know about them? THE IMPORTANT PART.

The Red Huntress is the only active vigilante in Amity Park, according to the JL. Phantom is marked as one of her rogues. Maybe the Fentons even are marked as rogues from all the property damages and random shooting/sliming of citizens. Valarie is the only person successfully taking care of the ghosts, masking and suiting up in the classic vigilante way the whole time.

[reallyspookynamehere]

DC X DP Prompt: Talons

Okay, so you know how everyone talks about how Danny and Jason would recognize each other as members of the undead in a way?

Well, what about Talons? The Talons are basically undead assassins, so Danny would also recognize them. And maybe if you want to go with the idea that Danny is the Ghost King, the Talons might even feel more loyalty to Danny than the Court of Owls.

Or maybe it would leave them conflicted and confused. Maybe, with that confusion, it would give them a chance to fight back against the brainwashing of the Court of Owls and make their own decisions.

[reallyspookynamehere]

Danny had a plethora of soulmarks, mostly familial and platonic, decorating him. He'd identified a few, such as the clock for his mentor and the eye representing his sister. There were many, though, that he'd never put a pin on. Upon meeting the first of many to follow, Danny couldn't help but think,

'Well, my parents are pretty much already mad scientists. How bad can actual villains be?"

[reallyspookynamehere]

Dan hates his Nicer Self.

He does. He really, really does.

The kid is naïve, cocky, strong in the weirdest ways that don't make sense-

And he's such a busybody! Always helping, always jumping into things, and always saying that he's definitely not trying to be a hero.

It's annoying.

It's so annoying.

For instance, Phantom got called in by the JL for an all-hands-on-deck situation right before a super important test. Phantom accepted the call.

But the JL had dealt with threats like this before, a million times-there was literally no need to answer the call.

Yet the little dumbass had.

And now Dan was at home, staying on the other side of the room away from Vlad, and watching the fight on TV.

Phantom takes a hit. Then another. Then another.

Good; he'll learn not to jump when the JL says jump, then.

Phantom goes down, disappears behind some rubble.

Dan doesn't care. He doesn't. Let the kid learn a lesson.

Phantom doesn't get up.

Just like Jazz didn't get up.

Or Sam, or Tucker, or his mom or his dad-

Dan sees red.

He barely hears Vlad as he rips a portal to the fight and steps out, in his own ghost form, and decks the bad guy-some demon named Trigun or whatever, fucking weeb-so hard he knocks the guy back.

The fight pauses.

"You touched the twerp," Dan growls, voice distorting and allowing his powers to manifest at full capacity for the first time in years, "So you get to lose your head."

[reallyspookynamehere]

Due to Danny's ghostly nature, he misunderstands a bit when his DOOMED buddy in Gotham complains about his little brother.

The guy is clearly just blowing off steam, talking about how can he trust the little demon when he'd literally been stabbed, thrown off a banister (danny was pretty sure he was gonna say something else), got Mufasa'd (dropped from the roof and barely managed to save himself), and talked shit like, constantly.

And Danny, with all of his ghost instincts only partially tucked away behind human skin, can't help but coo.

"Aww, he must really like you man."

"...He's tried to kill me."

"But not really? Dude, why aren't you picking up on this?"

"Picking up on what? That he wants to be an only child?"

"No, dude; that he wants to fight you. Like, in a learning way, with only a little bloodshed. Man you're bad with kids. Of course he's trying to stab you, he wants to play."

His friend pauses, the character he's playing stopping midfight.

"You...aren't human, are you?"

Fuck.

[reallyspookynamehere]

One of Jonathan Crane's last patients before he began his experiments with fear gas was a young boy, barely out of his toddler years, who'd wake up every night screaming from intense nightmares.

Jonathan could still recognize that boy over a decade later as the boy was wheeled into Arkham Asylum, strapped to a gurney. Danny Fenton shot him a tired grin. "Hey, Doc! You mind if we start holding sessions again? I got a lot more tangible fears I need to work through this time."

[reallyspookynamehere]

Better Watch Out

Danny had just started to feel like he was settling in with the Waynes. It had been... not ideal circumstances that brought him to the family in the first place, so getting used to not having to deal with all that mess was the first hurdle. The second being getting used to dealing with an entirely new- if more pleasant, mess. The Waynes, and Gotham by extension, were- to put it lightly- fucking crazy. He wasn't in Amity anymore and however much he'd thought it was the weirdest place on the planet before- he was absolutely rethinking that now. Where he had been one hero against a handful of villains, Gotham had a whole brigade of vigilantes against an army of villains. And they were... Bat-themed. For the most part. He'd yet to meet any of them, so he hadn't gotten the chance to ask what all that was about.

None of that was the point though. The point was that Danny had only recently stopped feeling like a fish out of water around his new foster family, and now the Holidays were coming. The Holidays that always served to put him in a sour mood. The Holidays that made him more prone to lash out and snap at those that didn't deserve it. The Holidays that, despite being Jewish by heritage, Bruce seemed oddly enthusiastic about celebrating.

(It reminded him, painfully, of Sam. He'd yet to be able to see here since everything went down and he missed her and Tucker something fierce. Which was maybe also putting him in a bad mood.)

So you really couldn't blame him for feeling a little tense about the whole situation. Not only were the Christmas decorations that smothered the Manor making him grouchy, but his grouchiness was also making a guilty pit form in his stomach. He was a moody teenager and adding trauma on top of that didn't help how caustic he could be- and adding fear on top of that made it all the worse. What if he saw Dick in his Santa hat, grinning and innocent, and he snapped? What if he saw Damian, stoic but loving, give Titus a shiny red bow-tie collar for the season and he made a caustic comment that went too far? What if he saw Bruce so much as smile at him while standing near the giant tree in the foyer and he saw green?

What if he ruined Christmas? Again? For people that didn't deserve it? Again? What if he hurt the people he cared about that had only ever shown him care and consideration? Again?

So Danny was just a bit tense. A bit on edge. And he was trying. Oh Ancients was he trying. To not be such a little bitch about all the Christmas stuff. But he had a limit. Bruce, being the rich socialite that seemed far too enthusiastic about family-centered holidays, did not have a limit. Every inch of the manor was covered in tinsel and holly and blinking lights and fake snow. Every spare moment was filled with different siblings being coerced into doing cheesy holiday activities, with Danny being the only one to attend every single one of them. (Cutting down a Christmas tree with Jason. Buying presents at the mall with Tim. Decorating while hanging from the chandelier with Dick. Caroling very badly with Stephanie. Making snow angels with Cass. Watching Christmas movies with Duke.) And he attended them all with a barely restrained snarl and a badly bitten tongue. The one time, one time, he'd told Bruce no- the guilt had eaten him alive (and dead) at seeing the man melt into the most pathetic kicked-puppy look he'd ever seen.

No grown man should ever be able to do that with his face. Danny never wanted to see that again.

In return, though, he had to face the Horrors.

The latest Horror being the worst he'd ever faced to date. A Horror that he thought he'd never have to face. He thought he'd slipped past this particular one by aging out. He was too old for this. He shouldn't be there. Damian, scowling and eyes filled with murderous intent, shouldn't be there. Dick and Bruce seemed to both be having the time of their lives. It was far too disturbing- and the continuous blasting of Christmas music and the overheated crush of a restless crowd only made it worse.

They were in line to see Santa at the mall.

It made his skin crawl. He was fifteen! Damian, the poor bastard, was also fifteen!

He could practically feel Ghostwriter laughing his ass off at his predicament. This was worse than getting stuck in a rhyming Christmas cautionary tale. He would 100% rather be stuck in one of Ghostwriter's cheesy poems than be stuck in the stupidly long line to see the fake mall Santa that probably didn't want to be there just as much as Danny.

But Bruce looked so fucking happy. Genuinely happy.

It was something he'd noticed early on about his foster dad. He smiled a lot and smiled big, but he rarely ever meant it. Now, Danny wasn't usually one to notice things like that. He got pretty wrapped up in his own problems and just- didn't have the skill to notice these things. Usually. But, well, being ghostly gave him a bit of an advantage. He could get a pretty good read on a person's emotions, regardless of what expression they wore. If he felt close enough to them. Frostbite had compared it to, like, family pack bonding. And he really, really didn't want to think about that further (why had it never worked for his parents? why did he feel so close to Bruce so quickly? why?) But, more importantly, he could tell that while Bruce smiled a lot, he rarely meant it.

But whenever Danny or his foster sibling begrudgingly participated in "family holiday activities" he smiled and he meant it. Bruce, fundamentally, was a sad man. Always grieving something. But here and now? In line to see his teenage children visit fucking Santa in the mall? He was smiling from ear to ear and his emotions, for once, matched. Yeah, there was a hint of mischief there, but it was overwhelmed by the giddy joy and excitement.

A suspicious amount of excitement... Like he was expecting something.

And then Bruce was leaning down between him and Damian and with a bright grin, he muttered, "I have a surprise for the both of you."

And even Dick, who had not stopped taking a stupid amount of pictures the entire time, paused to look at Bruce curiously.

"As I've told you both before," he said, looking over at Dick and back to Damian, "I know the real Santa. Met him a few times, saved Christmas with him a few others, and he owed me a favor for the last misadventure we had. So, I asked him to be here, for this one afternoon, for you guys."

Danny barely caught a glimpse of Dick rolling his eyes in the background. Oh, okay, so this was bullshit that has long been established. Nothing new on his account. That was something at least.

"Father," Damian interrupted with scorn and a promise of violence in his voice, "you are aware that this- Santa Claus creature- is fictitious, are you not?"

"Damian, chum," Bruce responded carefully, sincerely saddened, "why would you say that about an old family friend?"

And, poor Damian, looked two parts baffled and three parts murderous. Nonplussed and unable to even fathom a response to his father. He just stared the man down.

Dick huffed in exasperation behind them. "C'mon, B. Will you let that go already?"

Bruce furrowed his brows, eyes already taking on that faint sheen of kicked-puppiness, and looked back up at his eldest. "You don't believe me, Dickie? After all these years?"

Dick responded with a flat stare. Danny kind of wished he had popcorn for this moment. It was like witnessing a mild car crash. Nobody got hurt and it was still wicked to see parts flying everywhere. There was even a chance of things catching fire. Man was he glad he could just watch.

"Danny?" Bruce pleaded, turning to him with those sad, sad eyes. "Do you believe me, chum?"

And fuck how was he supposed to respond to that?

"I have it on good authority," he said, thinking of yearly fight, after fight, after fight, "that his existence is very hotly debated in the scientific community."

He could feel the questioning stares from Damian and Dick but he refused to look away from the innocently tilted head of his unfortunate foster father.

"Is that a yes?" and he sounded so sincerely hopeful. He couldn't crush the man's spirit. He couldn't.

But he also refused to lie and say he believed in Santa. At fifteen.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, but eventually replied. "It's a hotly debated topic."

And Bruce just smiled that empty smile and patted his shoulder. "Thanks, chum."

He, again, ignored Damian and Dick's stares. If he looked at them, he'd break. If he so much as made partial eye-contact, he was gonna fucking lose it.

"Oh look! We're almost at the front!"

Danny was living his worst life. Officially. This was the bad time-line. Dan's future didn't even come close. He was going to go mega evil any second now and kill everyone in the vicinity and then himself. This wasn't happening and it wasn't real and Santa Claus can't hurt him because he isn't real.

But Bruce, the saddest man in history, utterly and sincerely believed that he was.

So Danny was going to sit on some random old dude's lap and pretend to care about what he wanted for Christmas and whether or not he'd been a good boy this year and he was going to force a smile the entire time and his soul might shrivel up and die all the way inside, but at least Bruce would be happy.

What the fuck kind of afterlife was he living.

And then it was their turn and Danny was forced to go up first because the alternative was Damian committing homicide in the middle of the mall while Dick and Bruce cheerily took pictures.

Okay. Just sit down. Spit out answers to any inane questions. Pose for picture. And leave. Simple and easy and completely unbearable. But- for Bruce- he would bear it.

But, damn it all, a chill went down his spine as he approached.

No. Absolutely not.

There was no way. But he examined the man sitting in the chair and the more he saw the more the sinking pit in his stomach grew. Full thick beard of snow white hair. Brown eyes filled with smug mischief and magnanimity. Thick red velvet jacket made for trapping in heat in extreme cold weather, lined with white fur that looked suspiciously close to trim on cloaks he'd seen in the Far Frozen. A not-quite-ghostly-not-quite-magic-but-something-in-between aura he often got around Gods and Ancients.

Fuck, but Bruce actually knew the real bonafide Santa Fucking Claus.

What, and he means this with a great amount of emotion, the fuck.

He sat down in a stupor and the man just placidly smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye letting him know that he knew Danny was currently experiencing new stages of grief not yet known to man and was just gonna let him ride it out. How nice of him. Because of course he was being nice. He was Santa.

Fuck.

He looked up at the man. Ghost. God. Whatever. And for a good moment that's all either of them did. Just. Stared.

Sorry, Santa, Danny's brain has suddenly gone on vacation. 404 not found. Please leave a message after the tone. Error. Sorry, there's nothing there. Please try again.

After a few agonizing moments he asked, "how? Do you know Bruce?"

And Santa laughed at him, the sound working its way into his bones and filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It tasted just a bit like egg nog. Gross.

"Well," the man started, voice deep and rich like a good cup of hot chocolate, (whatthefuckwhathtefuck). "Why wouldn't I know a man like Bruce? Honorable, righteous, and very skilled. One of the best the Justice League has, if I'm being honest."

And then Danny's brain stopped completely. Because there was no fucking way Santa (FUCK) was implying what he thought he was implying.

But it all made so much sense now. His ears were ringing suddenly and the world was greying out but he was Seeing the Light.

"-nny?" Santa (FUCK!!) was saying. "Are you alright? Want to tell me what you want for Christmas now?"

"Hm," he said airily, still not all the way there, "I'm good, thanks."

And then he slid off the man's lap and walked back to his foster family in a daze. And he looked at Bruce (BATMAN!! FUCK!!!) and he slid a slow hand down his face, attempting to take the skin off it in the process.

"You alright, Danny man?" Dick asked, only half paying attention while he gleefully snapped pictures of a sullen Damian barely restraining himself from committing violence while stubbornly standing next to Santa instead of sitting on his lap.

"That's the real Santa, Bruce is Batman, and I'm half-dead," he replied bluntly.

Dick fumbled his phone in response and Bruce merely raised his eyebrows.

"That's an odd start to a 'three guys walk into a bar' joke there, chum," he said amiably. And Danny wouldn't have noticed the tension in his voice if he weren't ghostly. But he was and unfortunately for them all, it was now everyone's problem.

"Not a joke," he said. "I'll explain the dead part later but Santa outed you on accident."

"Okay, no," Dick interrupted, "we are not leaving the dead part for later, Danny, what the fuck."

"Listen," he said flatly, slapping his hands on either side of Dick's face and smooshing it to convey his seriousness while he spoke. "Santa is real, he's a God, and he's sitting right there." He emphasized with a sweeping wave of his arm in the direction Damian was stomping back towards them from. "We're leaving the dead part for later."

"What is all this about? Dead part? What is going on?" Damian demanded in rapid succession, growing more aggressive and persistent with each question.

Danny, already on his last fucking nerve, was gonna lose it. For real.

"Apparently," Dick drawled, disbelief and an unfair amount of derision in his tone, "that's the real Santa, he told Danny B was Batman, and Danny's now saying he's dead."

"What-"

Damian did not get to finish his sentence because that was the exact moment Danny finally snapped. Every bit of pent up tension and hostility, every bit of restrained Holiday fueled fury he'd been bottling up. Unleashed all at once because Dick decided to be an asshole about not believing him.

Danny snatched one of the giant plastic candy canes that lined the aisle of the queue to see Mall (but actually Real) Santa and gave a good swing in Dick's direction. Dick who had unfairly good reflexes and was able to dodge by jumping over the swing and landing back neatly on his feat.

"Danny?!" he cried, incredulous.

But Danny was no longer listening. Only reveling in the wild swinging of the candy cane and attempting to land a hit on Dick for being an absolute dick and finally unleashing hell upon the world and specifically his asshole foster brother. And maybe he put a little bit more ghostly strength in his last swing than he meant to, because when he finally made contact- he heard a pained off as Dick went down hard.

"Danny, please," he wheezed from the soft bank of fake snow he'd fallen into, "it's Christmas."

He screeched and continued his assault. "It's December 10th!"

And then, promptly; Bruce wrangled the candy cane from Danny's grasp, Damian pulled Dick from the floor, and they were all calmly escorted from the mall and asked politely to never return.

Danny really, truly, hated Christmas. And it looked like that wasn't going to change any time soon.

[reallyspookynamehere]

I'm not going to lie, there's some sweet, sweet allure in a premise based on "Johnny 13 ends up in Gotham just for shits and giggles only to accidentally settle down there."

This dude just happens to be Haunted as Fuck™️. His vibes are rank and he's rude as shit. Negative rizz. You literally can't pay him to do your goonery for you, but if you phrase it as a bad enough idea he'll do it for free...? But then like the whole building will explode for no reason or something else as equally as catastrophic and improbable?? What the fuck man

Just. This dead dude and his supernatural manifestation of bad luck is completely indecipherable from Gotham's natural toxicity to the point where he just...makes friends. Is a shitty upstairs neighbor. Shops at the corner store. Despite the odds, he's just Some Guy™️. He gets signed up for the Goonion. He reasonably could be any age between 19 and sixty. Two-Face kicked him out of his gang twice.

[reallyspookynamehere]

I was watching a ghost hunter show where the ‘ghost’ could only use the machine to say pre-recorded words. And I had an idea. We know that technology can’t always work with ectoplasm. So what if ghost speak couldn’t be heard over the phone? And to call for help, the Amity Parkers had to get creative to get ahold of the Justice League when the GIW declares all out war on all the ghosts and liminal in town.

Dead End Call

“Hello, you have reached the Justice League emergency hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Hello, hello. Emergency, hello. Justice League.” A distorted male voice answered back.

“Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me? what is the nature of your emergency?” Green Lantern asked again.

“I can hear you, emergency. Hello Justice League. Hello emergency.”

“Do you need help? Can you hear me?”

“Help. Help. Can you hear me? Help.” The voice distorted again to something like static.

“Prank calls aren’t funny kid. This is an emergency line.” With an exasperated sigh, Green Lantern hung up.

“What was that about?”

“It’s just a prank call. Some kid using a voice mod thing.”

“Really? That’s annoying.”

“I know. But it’s not that unusual. Kids don’t have anything better to do during the summer.”

“I guess. What are you doing on hotline duty? You’re not scheduled for refresher training for another few months, right?”

“Food fight in the cafeteria. Batman added everyone involved to additional monitor or dispatch duty twice a week for the next month.”

“Yikes. Hate to be you. Who else got caught?”

“Flash, Plasticman, Vigilante, and Shining Knight.”

Zatanna raised an eyebrow. “Can’t imagine Sir Justin getting involved in a food fight.”

Hal shrugged with a good-humored smirk, “Vig took a salad bowl to the head, Sir Justin jumped in to cover his retreat. Right in time for Bats to break up the fun.”

Zatanna giggled, “Poor Sir Justin.”

“Poor Sir Justin?” Hal Jorden gasped dramatically, “What about me? I was just an innocent bystander.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Unlike you. I’m just here for one shift for refresher dispatch training.”

“Good for you. Well, have at it. The active-duty roster is on the big screen with who's suited up and available.”

Zatanna looked up at the large monitor with pinging dots in various locations around the world. “Alright. A bit better than the old system of scrolling for available heroes and asking where they are.”

“Yeah, Cyborg linked everyone’s com into the system so we can tell who is where, when their com is active.”

“Sounds good. Alright, Let’s do this.” Zatanna put headset on and clicked ‘available operator’ on the screen. Immediately her phone rang. “Hello, this is the Justice League Emergency Hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Emergency. Hello, Justice League. Emergency.” A female voice came through her headset. The connection was very poor. Interference and static came through.

“Can you hear me? This is the Justice League emergency Hotline. Do you need help?” Zatanna looked over at Hal. He was fiddling with his headset cord. He looked up at her and she gestured her head to the screen. It was the same number as his prank call.

“Hear me? Help. Justice League. Emergency Help.” The feminine voice sounded vaguely familiar. Zatanna ignored it to confront the prankster.

“Kid, this isn’t a joke. This is a serious line for actual emergencies. You can’t keep calling. I’m going to hang up now. Please don’t call back.”

“Isn’t a Joke. This isn’t a Joke. Please don’t. Hang up now. Actual Emergencies. Keep calling. Hotline. Justice League. Help. For actual emergencies.” The static under the female voice sharpened. Zatanna paused. Her finger was just hovering over the button to end the call when something stopped her. The tone of voice was sharp. Irritated. Also, strangely familiar. After a second it dawned on her. Hal was still looking at her, so she waved him over to listen into the call. Once he was listening with his own muted headset, she asked “Are you…? Are you repeating what I’m saying?”

“Repeating. Help. Isn’t a Joke. What I’m saying. Emergency. Help. Hello. Help. Emergency.”

Zatanna finally recognized the voice. “Is that my voice? Are you repeating with my voice?”

“Repeating. Voice. You. Emergency. Help. Isn’t a Joke. Help. Justice League. Don’t. Hang Up.”

“You’re using my voice to talk back to me? My words. And…You can only repeat what you hear… is that right?” Zatanna shared a glance with a horrified Hal. Him, just realizing he had hung up on an actual emergency. Not a kid playing a joke.

Zatanna’s own voice echoed staticky in her ear. “Right. Right. Can repeat. Only. Talk back. Using voice. Help. Emergency help.”

“Are you in danger?” She looked over at Hal who was typing on his own computer to trace the call origin. He looked back at her and shook his head. Weirdly, they can’t find where the signal is coming from.

“Danger. Emergency. Help Justice League. Help. In danger”

“I understand. I’m going to ask you where you are. Do you understand?” Zatanna was going to have to narrow this down. She pulled up a world map onto her screen.

“Understand. Help. Emergency.” The static in the voice softened slightly. Like relief.

“OK, we need to know where you are. What continent are you on? Asia? Africa? Australia? Europe? North America? South America?”

“North America. Help. Emergency.”

Zatanna clicked on the screen to enlarge the North American Continent. “OK, you’re in North America. Are you in Canada or America?”

“America. Help.”

Another click of the mouse to focus on the USA. “OK are you in the North, Northeast, Southeast, West, Southwest, or Midwest?”

“Midwest. Midwest. Help emergency. Help. America. Midwest.”

“OK I’m going to ask your state now. Do you know it?” Zatanna clicked on the Midwest region of the map to enlarge it more. Hal was standing up now. Anticipation making his body glow faintly green. He was texting something on his phone, but Zatanna ignored it to focus on her own echoing voice on the other end of the line.

“Know it. know it.” Her voice repeated back, “Ask.”

“Are you in North Dakota? Are you in Minnesota? Are you in South Dakota? Are you in Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan-“

The voice interrupted her. “Illinois. Illinois, Midwest America, Illinois. Help. Emergency. Justice League Help.”

“Do you know where in Illinois you are?”

“Yes, yes. Where Illinois. Emergency. Ask.”

Zatanna enlarged the map of the state infront of her. The closest hero was in Detroit Michigan and they didn’t’ have any abilities to help them get to Illinois quickly. She gestured to Hal to look at the screen. He nodded his understanding. “Do you know where in the state you are? what region or what county?

“County. Know. County.”

“OK I’m going to name a few counties. Tell me yes or no if you are there, okay?”

“Yes, yes. Tell me.”

Zatanna listed off the counties on the map. Her tongue slightly tangling over the midwestern words. “OK, Joe Durres, Steffensen, Winnebago, Boone, McHenry, Lake, Cook, Dupage, Kane, Dekalb, Ogle, Carroll, Whiteside, Lee-“

The voice interrupted again. “ Lake. County.”

“OK you’re in Lake County. is that right?” Zatanna clicked over the county and enlarged the map.

“Right. Right, help. Emergency. In Lake County.”

“OK I’m going to name off some cities in Lake County. Are you in a city? yes or no”

“City no. name cities. Yes.”

Zatanna paused for a second. “Do you mean you are not in a city, but you can name the closest one to you? yes or no?”

“Yes. Name. Closet one. Name. Closest. City. Emergency.”

“Okay. I understand. Are you in Gurney? are you in Libertyville, Grayslake, round lake, or round lake beach? Are you in Lake Forest, Zion, Vernon Hills, Highland Park, or north Chicago-“

The voice cut her off again. “Park.”

“Are you in Highland Park?”

“No. Park. In Park. Park. Park. Park. Emergency. In Park.” The tone of the voice did’t change but the words came faster, almost overlapping over themselves.

“OK calm down. Let me understand. Are you in a park or in a place called park?”

“In a place called Park. Help emergency. In place called park.”

Zatanna scanned the list of Illinois cities called ‘Park’ in the county. “OK are you in Round Lake Park or Beach Park, Deerfield Park, Park City, or Deer Park.”

“No. Place called Park. No city. place called park.”

“So you’re in a place called Park but it’s not a city is that right?”

“ Right. Place call park. Emergency. not city. Help.”

“OK, let's go down the list. Brook Park, Mill Park, Park Barrington, River Park, Park Township, VernonPark Hills, West Keegan Park, West Deerfield Park, Amity Park, Wheeling Park-“

“Amity. Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. emergency help help emergency.”

“OK you're an Amity Park. Is that right?”

“Right. Right. In Amity Park”

Zatanna nodded to Hal who was still texting on his phone. He nodded back to her.

“OK, I know where you are now. Now we need to know what kind of emergency is it a natural disaster? is it a villain? is it an alien?”

“Villain. Emergency. villain villain villain.” The words came fast. Static was almost overwhelming.

“OK, calm down. I'm right here. Does the villain have powers or not.”

“Villian have. No. Powers. I'm here. Powers. Help. Natural- powers. Help. I'm. kind of. Natural. Help. Powers. We. Need help. OK?”

Zatanna paused. The sentences didn’t make sense. The villain did not have powers? But the caller said “I’m. Kind of. Natural.” She shared a look to Hal. Hal typed on his computer and a message appeared on her screen.

“I txted Flash. He can be there, but he needs to know what kind of situation he’s running into.” Zatanna read the message and nodded.

“OK. You need to give me more information. There are villains but they don’t have powers? Can you tell me what kind of natural powers you mean? Are they metagene powers? Are they magic? Are there weapons?”

“Magic. Weapons. Powers magic. I. powers. magic. Help. Can you help. Me?”

Zatanna felt a rush of fear. Magic powers. ‘Villains no powers. Weapons’ must mean that the villains don’t have any powers, but they have weapons that can affect the magic user who is calling. She looked over at Hal. He nodded. “Okay. I have magic too. I am going to Amity Park to help you. Can you tell me how many villains there are? Are there more than five or less than five?

“More than five. Villains. I have magic too. Villains. Weapons. more than we. I am going too. yes. Yes going. Help.”

So, the caller definitely needed magic backup. Zatanna gestured to Hal who began to send an all-notice message to any Magic using League hero. “Are the villains after your powers? is that right? the villains are attacking you for your powers?”

“Right. Right villains attacking for powers. Help emergency. More than me. Powers. Villains attacking. We need help. Amity park. Needs help.”

Zatanna froze. ‘We need help.’ More than me…powers. We need help. Oh god. “Is there more than one of you with magic? There’s a group of you with powers that the villains are attacking?” Zatanna asked. A group of magic users fighting villains? Maybe sending more magic users isn’t the best idea. They might need some heavy hitters for this.

“Group. with powers. Magic. Amity Park. Magic. Villains attacking. Disaster. Emergency help. Villains have. More than one of you. Of you. We. villains have. More than one. Of We.”

It took Zatanna only a second. By now she was standing up out of her chair. “Do The villains have hostages? With magic powers? How many?”

Hal had linked in the call with multiple coms. On the large monitor Zatanna could see multiple heroes dots shift slightly. All in the direction of Illinois. She was grateful to see Wonder Woman, Flash, and Captain Marvel all headed in that direction. “We’ve got hero’s coming your way. They will be there soon to help you and rescue the hostages.”

“Many hostages. Many magic in Amity Park. Weapons. Villains have. Weapons. We have. Magic. Villains have Hostages. Villains have. Soon. Powers. We need help. Heroes coming. Justice league. Help. Not villains. We not. Villains. Help we.”

Zatanna felt sick as she understood that message. ‘The villains have hostages and weapons. The caller and the others have powers. But then… villains have…soon…powers. Did that mean that the villains were taking powers away from whoever was calling? She paused at that last sentence. “You’re not the villains. what do you mean by that?

“We. Not. the Villains. Villains have hostages. Villains have weapons. Isn’t a joke. Isn’t. Isn’t Right. We. Not Villains. We Natural. We not weapons. We not villains. Help. Rescue hostages. Rescue. Me. Help Me. Help we have Powers. Help.”

“You’re not the villains, I know. You say you are natural. Do you mean that when the heroes get there, they might think you are the villains and get confused?” Zatanna knew that multiple heroes were silently listening to the call.

“We not the villains. Heroes might think. Powers. Are the. Weapons. We Amity Park. We need help. Justice league get here. Rescue Hostages.”

Hal messaged her again on her screen. Zatanna read off the message.

“We’ve alerted the Illinois National Guard as well. They’ll be there soon to help.”

“No. No. No. National Guard. No help. Villains. Guard villains. Help we. Help Amity Park.”

Zatanna looked confused. “What? No the national guard is coming there to help.”

“National Guard. The.Villains. They guard. The villains. No help. They’ll. Weapon. Amity Park. Powers. Justice League Rescue Amity Park. Help. Help. Help.” The static became so prevalent that Zatanna had to fight the impulse to rip the headset off. She tried to decipher the words.

“Okay. Okay we’ll help you. But we need to be able to find you. Are you in a house or a building? Can you get to a rooftop?”

“Building Rooftop. Heroes Find Me.”

“How can we find you? Can you wave a flag or give us a sign. Are you a woman or a man? What do you look like.”

There was a long pause. “I can. Wave. Kid. Kid. Woman. Kid woman.”

Zatanna wondered for a long moment where the word ‘kid’ came from before remembering when she first accused the caller of prank calling. She said ‘Kid, this isn’t a joke.’ The she felt bile flood her throat as she understood what they meant. “Are…are you a child?”

Zatanna’s own voice answered back. “Child. Kid. Woman child. Rooftop. Help Justice League. Find. Me. Help Hostages. Help. Amity Park.”

Flashes voice came over the com line. Muted from the call but clear in Zatanna’s other ear. “Oh my god. I’m here. It’s a war zone. There’s…We’re going to need back up. Medical units. There are tanks and fires everywhere. There’s been some kind of artillery shot at different buildings. It’s a war zone.”

There was a silent horrified moment as all the heroes listening absorbed the information. “I think I see our caller. It’s a little girl. Maybe eight or ten. White hair. She’s floating. She’s on the library roof with a giant phone. I think she sees me.”

In Zatanna’s other ear her own voice repeated. “Heroes find me. Rooftop. Help.”

“The man in red is called Flash. He’s there to help.”

“He’s there. Man In Red. Help. Flash. Find me.”

“I’m on my way too. Just stay with Flash and tell him what you need, okay sweetie?” Zatanna’s voice was infinitely softer now that she knew it was a child on the phone.

“Okay. Stay with Flash. Help. On. You. Way.”

The line shut off and Zatanna flinch at the sudden silence in her ear. She glanced over at Hal. “I’m going to Zeta down to Amity.”

“I’m right behind you. Flash said a war zone. I…I need to be there.”

Zatanna nodded at his guilty expression. “Right. Let’s hurry and get to Amity Park.”

[reallyspookynamehere]

One of my personal headcanons is that, if Amity Park is entirely liminal, Jason is always the first person to discover it and regularly goes to visit on holidays. Amity's enthusiastic and incredibly violent holidays.

So, Jason is super excited to go see his girlfriend during the Walpurgis Night festival. So excited that he has entirely thrown caution out the window and has been gushing about this festival to his henchmen.

Gotham being Gotham, word makes it back to the Rogues. While some of the meta Rogues are planning to cause havoc while the Bats are without a heavy hitter, some of the Rogues more involved in organized crime (Penguin, Two-Face, Black Mask) decide to try and take out Hood while his guard is down.

The City Spirit of Amity apparently finds this hilarious as it does nothing to stop them from crossing its borders and actually giggles at them.

Thoroughly creeped out by the disembodied laughter, the Rogues spread out to find Hood.

Penguin gets accosted by his Cousin Jack and is dragged off screen. Two-Face somehow starts a fist fight with Box Ghost over whether the number 2 or the number 4 is better. Black Mask actully holds Hood at gun point for all of 3 minutes before he gets bowled over by the brawling duo.

The Amity residents consider this is as good a reason as any to kick off the festivities a couple hours early.

The next three days proceed like the chorus of The Irish Drinking Song. The fighting is only interrupted by offers of food and alcohol.

Hood and the Rogues roll back into Gotham still drunk and slightly concussed. They all stay on friendlier terms once they sober up and at least one of them takes Jason up on his offer of going to another Amity Park Holiday.

[reallyspookynamehere]

Amity park has joined ranks around their young who time and again has saved them from terror while the rest of the world ignored them or wrote them off a a joke.

If Danny is gonna protect the town then the town is gonna protect him. So when the Justice league shows up they’re all collectively like. “No gov’t sanctioned hero group is taking our kid.”

And any inquiry about phantom turns into a town wide version of 50 wats to say goodbye, especially when the league starts trying to figure out how this kid died so they could help him pass on.

“I heard he died in an airplane crash.”

“Mauled to death by a bear.”

“It was an avalanche in the mountains up north.”

“I heard he’s a ghost from the titanic.”

“There’s a picture in one of my history books that placed him in Pompeii.”

And so on it goes.

[reallyspookynamehere]

Dani, sightseeing in Gotham, thinks that perhaps Robin needs a personal Villain.

The others clearly suck at their jobs, and she's already hated by the government. Plus, there's a bunch of dead goons that would gladly help set up training exercises for Robin if she asked!

Vlad and Dan are always telling her to make friends in her own age group anyways.

So she goes and starts trouble when Robin is on patrol, and adamantly refuses to play with any other hero.

Red Hood arrives? She just stops, stares at him in disgust, and disappears.

Nightwing? She waves at him half heartedly and asks when Robin can come out.

Red Robin? Loves planning with him, isn't entirely convinced he's not actually a villain.

Spoiler? Best costume. But also the best at hunting Dani? 0/10. Dani flees on sight.

BlackBat? Girlboss. 10/10. Likes to learn some cool ninja moves from her to practice on Robin.

Batman? Adult. Smells like money. Gross. She makes it a point to stare at him with all the disgust and hatred she can before going invisible and stealing the candy from his belt.

Signal? Creeps her out. Always knows where she is. She does make sure to give him a wave sometimes. He seems pretty cheered up when she does that.

Robin? Time to play time to play time to play. Intense weird plots that serve no real purpose, mazes that always shift, puzzles she put together with Red Robin, holding Robin's other friend Superboy hostage for a really cool battle across the rooftops (Superboy is also like, kinda cool? He prefers to hang out normally, though; although he does agree that Robin needs this level of entertainment for enrichment purposes).

She thinks Robin is having as much fun as her, honestly.

(Damian is, and the rest of the Bats and Supers think it's adorable)

[reallyspookynamehere]

Danny, the 'twig' Bouncer

The job was just a temporary solution. It was a means to an end. To help him handle his obsession until things were better. Until it was safe to be out again. Until he could roam around freely without fear. Until he no longer needed to lay low or be on the run. Until he could return to being Phantom.

This job helped keep his obsession somewhat sedated. Sure, it was a shady bar, but it beat working out in the open in some other way or becoming a non-ghost vigilante and risking his human persona too.

Besides people tented to underestimate him because he was a 'twig' in their eyes. The bar owner nearly didn't hire him until he easily flipped a human truck over his shoulder and threw the guy out the back door on his interview day.

But again this was just meant to be temporary. He got to fight the trouble makers and protect customers from the rowdy crowd.

At some point, the people even started cheering whenever Danny was on the clock, his coworkers even leaving the heavy hitters to him. It was kind of fun always seeing the sound looks of the big guys that didn't think Danny could throw them out the door with one hand. The owner had said something about getting more customers ever since Danny started working for him.

Danny even recognized regulars now. Tho there was this one guy with a red helmet that gave him a weird feeling. But the guy wasn't making trouble so Danny left him alone.

Besides the Bar Owner always pet his shoulder after he threw someone out. That meant he did a good job right?

Though Danny did wonder how long this temporary job would last.

.

.

.

Yea his Fenton luck struck again. Danny didn't know faces. The bar was a shady place but neutral zone according to the owner but there was the golden rule of not messing with Joker. Danny had agreed even tho he didn't know who that guy was.

Soo the day came a clown made trouble in the bar and no one else appeared to want to do something. So what did Danny do? His job. He punched the guy, knocked him out and threw him right out the door a little too hard into a brick wall. He might have broken a couple of that clown guys bones. Hello trauma, Freakshow greets you.

The bar was dead silent right after, everyone staring at him like he had just signed a death sentence. The owner had then pushed him out the door and muttered something about sending Danny on vacation and to return in a month if he was still alive by then.

Did that mean he was fired or got a weird kind of promotion?

Why was that guy in a furry suit staring him down now?

Also why was the red helmet regular suddenly trying to hire him for his gang?

Really Danny just wanted a simple job that sedated his obsession, this was not what he expected to happen for a job well done.