Summonings
Ever since Danny Phantom became the Ghost King, he’s had to deal with an endless amount of crap. An eternity of it, actually, and it was constantly causing him unending amount of existential crises and stress.
First, there was the paperwork. Pariah Dark, the incompetent asshole, had left him decades worth of bureaucracy to painfully sift through. He ended up hiring some ghosts with paperwork obsessions to sort some of that out. Who knew ruling the infinite realms would require this much paperwork? He’s lucky each section of the underworld had their own systems to report to their own rulers who, in turn, report to him.
Secondly, there were the Observers. And other ghosts, like his own rogues, but they were the main issues. Eyeball menaces. They protested his appointment, something he actually agreed with. Putting a fifteen year old on the throne is rarely a smart decision. But the Infinite Realm values strength, the only type of currency that matters in the land of the gods and the dead. Danny? Phantom? He’s got strength in spades. With only a few months of being a ghost, Danny had managed to defeat Pariah Dark, who had cowered gods and struck fear into the hearts of ghost heroes.
But Danny hasn’t quite realized the significance of that yet, too focused on the realization that he was about to be in charge of the infinite realms. The Observants, since his reluctant and extremely limited coronation, has been up his ass about doing things the “proper way.”
Danny’s main problem lies with the ridiculous amount of paperwork though. It’s fine. Tedious. But fine.
But if he gets one more fifteen page essay style complaint form about some guy named Constantine, Danny might seriously reconsider donning Dan’s ruthlessness and offing the guy himself. Perhaps grab the man by his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll and ask who the fuck told him it was a good idea to sell his soul out like that? Danny eventually just sent out Skulker to hunt down the contracts and trade minor services for them. He owns most of the soul now, and perhaps he’ll hunt this guy down and force him to do paperwork.
Regardless, paperwork was just often tedious. He’s worked out a system for himself. The halfa, true to his teenage form, had better things to be doing. His homework, for one. Hanging out with his friends and logging in hours for Doomed 2 would be another. But no, he’s here, twirling a pen as he glared down at a stack of forms for a zone expansion. What the fuck does Zeus want to expand his zone for? The current share space of the sky domain is literally a perfect balance with respect towards the other gods. For the love of- Danny slams down a red ‘REJECTED’ stamp on top of the stack. His hair flickers wildly in annoyance, the iced over Crown floating above his head emitting concerning levels of frost. To anyone else but himself, of course.
He then feels a soft tug on his core.
Right. The third most annoying thing about becoming King: the fucking summoning. Danny taps his pen against his lips, clicking it against his fangs, as he considers the summoning circle that calls him. Huh. Desperation. Mildly bloody. Fear. Resignation- ah, fuck it, it’s not like he’s too enthusiastic about staying to do work with the Observers poking around. He takes the summoning, allowing his regalia to overtake his normal hazmat-clad form, and approves the summoning.
Oh hey, Danny thinks he recognizes that ugly ass trenchcoat.
—-
John Constantine has had more than enough practice summoning things that would give people nightmares. But there are things he normally refuses to touch, refuses to even entertain the idea of trying. As usual, desperation made John its bitch and the Justice League’s battered and bruised faces tugged on his shriveled heart.
He’s going to summon something from the Infinite Realms. Oh, but he wasn’t just summoning any old ghost. No, he thought, I’m just going to summon the one being that’s guaranteed to be able to crush our universe without breaking a sweat. Bollocks.
“Is it ready?”
“Untwist your pants, spooky,” John snaps, wishing he had a crate of whiskey he could down. “We’re trying to summon the Ghost King, not your average demon.”
“What do we know about him?” Batman’s gravelly voice demanded.
“Powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. Defeated the bloody tyrant who ruled over the Realms last I heard.”
“That’s it?”
“You could ask Deadman, but I heard he’s on the outs with the Infinite Realms on the fact that he’s made of pure magic, not ectoplasm.”
“There’s no guarantee the king will work with us.” Zatanna says, pressing her fingertips together tiredly. She had been at the forefront of the battle and had paid the price for it. “But he’s supposedly more benevolent than his predecessor… and we’re out of options.”
“Hm.”
“Just make sure to shut up and let me do the talking.”
“Hn.”
John rolls his eyes and takes a fortifying breath, something that does not go unnoticed by the League. They all tense up, preparing themselves for a battle. Another one, seeing as they all got their ass kicked by a ghost only ten hours ago. The League is spread thin, running interference to distract the ghost in question and evacuating civilians.
John Constantine started chanting, the glow of his magic lighting up the circle as he spills his blood into the circle.
He waits, heart in his throat, for the summoning to work.
“Is it supposed to take-” Red Robin asks, only to cut himself off as the circle flares once more. Power pulsates outwards from the circle. Frost crackles on the frost resistant floors, spreading outwards as a green portal rips open the fabric of time and space. Long, spindly imitations of a hand grabs the edges of space and pulls, heaving the rest of his celestial body out of the tear in reality. John does not look away. He can not look away, not from the eerie green pallor of the King, not from his torrential white wisps of hair, not from the black-hole like material of his outfit, not from the nebulas and beginnings and endings tailored onto the King’s cape. John could not look away from the ice crown that floated like a bastion of power above the king’s head.
His mouth is dry. What price will he have to pay to save the world? What price will this being demand of him, of the Justice League, to save the world?
John desperately needs that drink.
—-
Oh! He’s in his home dimension! His core purrs at coming home, at the close proximity to his first haunt.
He was expecting cultists, or even the Winchesters again, but this is nice.
The Justice League- summoning him. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they hear about this.
They’ve been staring at him in silence for a bit now. It was getting awkward.
“Why have you summoned me?” He asks, softening his tone. By their winces, he didn’t get it as well as he thought. Danny grimaces. At the first sign of discomfort though, the man in the trenchcoat- is that fucking Constantine?!- launches into a nerve filled tirade.
“Your, uh, Majesty.” He starts. “One of… One of your subjects is wreaking havoc on the world. We would be extremely grateful if… if you could reign him in?”
Danny’s face sours, only to quickly clear his expression as he realized how much even a small hint of displeasure causes the jumpiness in Constantine and the others.
“To do that, I will have to make a contract with you, seeing as you’ve summoned me.” Danny drawls, letting his overly long digits wave at the summoning circle in question. He could break it, of course, but Danny’s bored and trying to draw this out. He’s not saying he’d take a batch of cookies as payment but that’s exactly what he’s saying.
“The price… you could always have my soul?”
Danny pauses. “Your… soul?”
Oh, he did not say what he just said.
“Yes. My soul.”
Oh, he did.
Fuck it. Danny’s flashbacks of suffering through the reports pushes green into his irises and urgency to his action.
He breaks out of the circle, hands lunging and gripping Constantine’s jaw tightly. Danny ignores the shouts of alarm as he allows the thrown weapons to pass through him.
John Constantine is panicking now, struggling in the air as Danny lifts him an inch off the floor in agitation.
Good.
“Your soul, little wizard? The one you’ve split eight ways till the thirtieth of February? The one that caused,” he tightens his grip, no doubt bruising the man. “An insane amount of paperwork that I’ve had to suffer through. Your soul, John Constantine?”
Danny hisses his name. The man makes a warbling noise that Danny takes as acknowledgement. Danny bats away the weak spell Zatanna sends at him with a hand.
“You’ll find that I am in the possession of most of your soul contracts. To simply put,” he grins, teeth made of dying stars on display. “I own your soul. My soul, now.”
He drops the wizard who collapses onto his knees to stare up at him in horror, eyes flicking between the circle that was meant to contain him and Danny, who is very much not contained. He crouches down- something necessary but disjointed as he’s not used to this taller form- and speaks to Constantine in a slow, dead serious, drawl.
“If you ever sell your soul again, you and I are going to have issues. Is that clear, John Constantine?”
“Uh- yeah, yes, yes, your majesty.”
Patting his cheek condescendingly, Danny gets up and sighs, stress relieved. He’s starting to feel bad, though, so he allows his form to ripple back to his normal teenage Phantom self.
“Well, it’s not like anyone will buy it, since they know they’ll have to go against me.” He chirps, flipping 180 from his terror inducing eldritch voice. “So, what’ll you pay me to get rid of whatever ghost you’ve got?”
“…. Nothing?”
Red Robin holds out a bag, eyebags betraying his exhaustion. “I’ve got fifty dollars and a bag of cookies.”
Phantom beams at him. “Throw in a couple of autographs and you’ve got a deal.”
“That’s- yeah, okay.” Red Robin says, inching forward cautiously to hand him the bag.
“Great. I’ll be back for them later. You can call me Phantom. ‘Your Majesty’ gets annoying after a while.”
“Thank- thank you for your mercy, Your- Phantom.” Wonder Woman says.
“Sure. Make sure this idiot doesn’t make any more deals with demons while I’m out, yeah?”
With that, Danny Phantom grabs the bag of cookies and fifty dollars and flies through the wall to do his job.
John slams his head onto the space station floor.
“Fuck.”
—-
Danny: lol I’ll do it for the shits and giggles
Constantine and the League: he’s terrifying, a bastion of pure power and authority
Red Robin, Young “we commit war crimes bc it gets shit done” Justice leader and fellow gremlin: he’d probably do it for cookies. I would.
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Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?
Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.
Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.
Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.
Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.
But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.
Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.
“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.
“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.
“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.
“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”
“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”
From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.
Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.
They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.
Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.
Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.
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Currently obsessed with the concept of Danny 100% being the most Violent and youngest Wayne. I'm so sorry but the writing opportunity🥹🤌
Danny's rogues were all dead so they can't actually... Die again. Like— not in the normal way, that is. The only way that they could die is by crushing their core.
Cue Bruce Wayne and the whole family Finding out his extremely timid and closed off son/brother (yes, being ooc is the point here stfu😭) is arguably the strongest being in the universe and admitting that he has a tendency to have intrusive thoughts and horrible mood swings so he doesn't trust himself with doing the family's... 'business' (knowing damn well he could kill someone if he gets too agitated) and they're almost not convinced.
Emphasis on almost.
Once they watched as the youngest of them all completely threw down a weird eyeball (they later learn is an 'observant'), threw a green dagger right beside it, kicked it violently and threatened to gauge it's eye out and disintegrate it for interrupting their dinner.
He apologized to the family soon after the thing disappeared, back to completely timid and embarrassed.
Extra, Danny finding out about Joker:
News: Joker found dead in strange circumstances!
Bruce, turning to Danny: Danny....
Danny, who placed a bounty on Joker AND his soul in the ghost zone: *gasp* He died of strange circumstances? How unfortunate!
Bruce: *sigh* Chum...
Danny: I didn't do anything, my hands are clean!
Jason, in the background: Kid ilysm you're my favorite brother now
Another extra, about Vigilantism:
Danny, in tears: Leave me alone!
Dick & Tim: C'mon, it'll be fun!
Danny: Absolutely not!
Jason, watching the chaos unfold: Guys I don't think—
Alfred: Master Dick, Master Tim.
Danny: Alfreeeeed!
Bruce, pinching his nose: *sigh* Stop trying to make Danny a vigilante.
Dick & Tim: But—!
Bruce: No buts. We had an agreement.
Steph, in the background: A somewhat normal kid finally joined the family just leave him alone!
Danny, also in the background, sobbing: I'm already in charge of another dimension, give me a break!
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