Death Beyond..

Idea #8

Warning! I use a translator, English is not my native language.

So, there's the Ghost King, Danny Phantom. And then there's Dani Phantom, his clone, and she's a girl. Normally, many would write about Danny being transgender, but I have this idea. What if ghosts can change their gender after death? They may have been human or born that way, but their bodies are tied to the core, not the physical shell. Even half

Enter Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, who has reigned for a very long time. And in his youth, when he began to be summoned, he made it so that his ghostly form was seen differently. More precisely, everyone sees his form as the most appealing. For example, a teenage girl might see Danny the teenage girl instead of the grown man. Or a random grandfather might see him as a child. And they all immediately trust this form, which is a side effect of his role as a guardian spirit.

And this only works on the living, with a few exceptions, as well as on gods and demigods. He is, after all, the King of the Infinite Realms.

And Danny never feels uncomfortable being addressed as either a girl or a man. Although he does find it amusing when he's addressed as a child.

And then one day, the Justice League summons him to resolve an important matter (or any other reason), and everyone simply sees their own form. Batman sees a small child, Flash a beautiful girl with sweet features, Diana sees a grown woman with maternal features, Superman sees a teenager, and so on. Only Constantine sees this being's true form, for part of his soul is already in the Phantom's possession.

And complete confusion ensues when trying to properly address the King (Queen?). And the only thing that unites all the appearances is white hair and green eyes.

Dani: She's already got me!! Help!!

Jazz: Relax and let me trim your claws! I don't want you guys scratching every surface!

Jason: Wait your supposed to trim them? I don’t grow claws.

Tim: Damian does.

Jason: Seriously?

Tim: I've seen him chew them off out of habit.

Climbing Walls, Self Defense, Scratching a Creep's eyes out, etc..

The BatKids worry cuz now Damian is nodding along going "I see. That would be helpful," and they worry even more cause he's making a list and adding more reasons to it.

He starts altering it, and finds out that for ghosts it's like, super easy. He's literally just grabbing bits of ecto and forming it into what he wants, like putty.

He takes inspiration from his favorite Animal Crossing save, and shapes this floating island to be a place for him to just...go chill.

He names it the same thing he named his Animal Crossing island; Potato.

Potato soup perhaps?

“Ha ha,” Danny intoned. “Well, I’ll have you know I totally knew what I was doing from the beginning. Maybe Animal Crossing isn’t a great model for human economics, but it’s just fine in the ghost zone.”

“Danny.” Jazz quirked her eyebrow at him, a playful and oh-so-smug smile tugging at her lips. “You went into horrible debt in that game. And then you reset your save file.”

“Tom Nook is a horrible, greedy little raccoon. If he were a ghost, he would have accepted a cool-looking butterfly as payment and we would have been chill,” Danny argued, fake indignant. He cleared his throat. “ANYWAY, enough about that. Because I, in real life, am totally rocking this adult stuff, I have the filing cabinet you asked for set up.”

“You’re twenty, little brother,” Jazz corrected. “Hardly a full adult yet.”

“Says you.”

She blew a raspberry at him. “But thank you,” she continued, like her lack of pristine-ness never happened. “I do feel much safer keeping our documents here.”

Danny grimaced alongside her. Neither of them needed to vocalize how tense things were getting back home, with all of the sweeps and checks the GIW gained the authority to do across. They had all more-or-less escaped Amity Park, with only Mom and Dad remaining there to annoy and distract the GIW from the important stuff. Their portal was long gone now, by necessity, and Danny’s ability to open his own was a well-kept secret, surprisingly. However, it didn’t make travel back and forth any easier when punching a hole through reality was the most subtle thing in the world. For that reason, he either stayed put in the college dorm or—like this past semester—holed up on Potato Island and attended all of his classes online. Getting a degree in engineering was mostly a consolation prize, at this point, but he wasn’t feeling up to quit just yet. Even if the GIW and the government’s hunger for ecto-based weaponry made actually having a life on Earth—in the U.S., that is—more and more difficult.

Tucker took a study abroad to France to provide temporary relief. Sam, ever the adventurer, was starting to look into other dimensions with similar Earths, because she didn’t care about uprooting herself from family she didn’t care about. Jazz, who had been the most vocal about trying to stick things out, was now moving more and more of her belongings to the Ghost Zone.

Danny practically lived on Potato Island now. Which was weird, even though he had snagged the empty haunt somewhat for this reason; that reality had seemed less pressing a few years ago, though. It honestly wasn’t that bad, because Potato Island had exploded in function when he had been more preoccupied with graduating high school and getting into a college and out of Amity without getting screened by the GIW. It was a whole city now! Unfortunately, it meant that everybody thought really highly of Danny, as if he was some mysterious leader. Vivian actually ran everything, and he was more than happy to let her; Danny was just scary enough to keep things calm in this neck of the woods. He was perfectly content with that.

Unfortunately, his impulse project came with administrative duties all the same. Maybe Jazz was onto something when she called Potato Island a miracle.

“Phantom, yer’ presence has been requested,” Daryl dutifully reported, appearing next to Danny and Jazz at his front door in a flurry of hooves. Between Vivian the multi-armed ghost of a city planner and Daryl, the enthusiastic centaur ghost of a Pony Express rider, Potato Island really, really didn’t need him beyond his ecto. They were scarily efficient. And very intent on including him on stuff.

“Can it wait?” he asked, already dreading it. If it was that pumpkin merchant again…

“Who is it?” Jazz also asked, more interested in the situation than he was.

“A traveler,” Daryl reported, to his surprise. “A real potent one, that one is. He asked for the leader of the haunt. Hannah said he was real polite, too.”

Polite? That was a new one. Okay, he’ll bite.

One step ahead of him, Jazz nudged him forward. “Go. You’ll be useless when it comes to organizing papers anyway.”

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, but he flew off to where Daryl directed him without much more fuss. Usually, ghosts that wanted to meet with him were ones interested in setting up shop here. As much as he would love to delegate that too, haunts were really picky about the permission stuff. It was, however, rather bemusing for anybody to be noteworthy in their politeness; ghosts were usually too straightforward for that.

Danny found his answer quickly enough, because it wasn’t a ghost he was meeting: it was a young, teenage, living boy.

Potent, sure. He reeked of magic, like the few living visitors of the island usually did. As long as they didn’t cause trouble, Danny didn’t care. This was a kid, though—floppy black hair, bright blue eyes, and all thin and gangly. For a split moment, Danny had to wonder if somebody cloned him again. It was uncanny.

“Um, Mr. Phantom, sir?” the kid started. He eyed Danny carefully, a bit warily, but not really scared. Still, Danny dialed back his presence, aware that the voids in all of his blacks were getting a little too deep in his startled confusion. “I’m Billy Batson. I was, uh, wondering if I could stay here? I can work for it.”

This was a kid. Ancients, a kid. A living kid. What the heck?!

Then the request hit him. “Wait. You know you’re living, right? Like, fully living. Sure your magic protects you, but I don’t think you would enjoy the Realms past the forty-eight-hour mark, bud. What do you mean, live here?”

Billy frowned and sighed with way too much exasperation than what had to be healthy for his age. Danny was immediately reminded of Ellie. Which as far as normal kid benchmarks went, was not a good sign. “I could last longer than that,” Billy argued. “And I would be in and out. I can portal here.”

Danny floated a bit closer to the ground. “Look, I’m just trying to understand something here. You’re a living human who can apparently portal between the veil. So why live here, on the side that’s not good for you?” Danny’s brain caught up a few seconds later; having once been a powerful but scrawny fourteen-year-old, he could think of a few reasons. None of them were particularly. “Are you… okay?”

Billy curled in on himself a little bit, half wilting and half defense. He squinted at Danny long and hard. “For such a famous and powerful ghost, I didn’t expect this many questions,” he muttered.

“I’m also a strange ghost,” Danny quipped, more than a little aware that young Billy here might have expected someone closer to Pandora or Overgrowth, all reverberating might and confidence. “Now, come on man, I’m not going to eat you or anything. If you came here looking for an agreement, you would know that these kind of haunt contracts demand honesty. I’ll start by saying that I’m not going to use this information against you unless you’re, like, trying to hurt me or Potato. But you gotta work with me.”

This time, Billy definitely wilted. After an agonizing minute of deliberation, he sighed. “I just… don’t have anyway else to go,” he admitted.

And Danny—

Well, Danny always had a soft, impulsive heart. He got it from his dad. And currently, it was melting.

“Okay,” Danny said, mouth moving faster than his brain. Jazz could yell at him for it later. “Okay, we’ll… figure something out.”

Danny does it at random and gives people tasks to complete every now and then. He doesn't talk, a game window appears in front of him (ecto trick or help from Desiree) and the sound plays. Billy is given a task when he tries to find Danny but later realizes that it's actually the island owner (he never met him before. only the ghosts did cuz the jld and other mages/tourists only come very occasionally for the trade and temporary refuge)"

@jc-llex I HAD TO DRAW IT-(It is kind of shitty but at least I made it)

I saw an outfit of Tom's that I remember as a yukata, so I drew Danny in one, but it turned out ugly, and the mask is horrible, but what matters is the intention. 🙏

I like to think that he would try to be the complete opposite of Tom but still with his basic characteristics, and I also like to think that he would use an alter ego that resembled Tom's name but was still different, that's where Don Nova came from.

Some magic users including from the JLD have the same theory that Nintendo based the Animal Crossing game on this, and not the other way around.

Years Later

Slade: *Being himself at Nightwing Dick.*

Slade:

Slade: Why do I hear Boss Music?

Danny leaping to his feet mid-interview of the Wayne children education fundraiser as soon as he senses Slade, even looking in Dick's direction:

He starts altering it, and finds out that for ghosts it's like, super easy. He's literally just grabbing bits of ecto and forming it into what he wants, like putty.

He takes inspiration from his favorite Animal Crossing save, and shapes this floating island to be a place for him to just...go chill.

He names it the same thing he named his Animal Crossing island; Potato.

Potato soup perhaps?

“Ha ha,” Danny intoned. “Well, I’ll have you know I totally knew what I was doing from the beginning. Maybe Animal Crossing isn’t a great model for human economics, but it’s just fine in the ghost zone.”

“Danny.” Jazz quirked her eyebrow at him, a playful and oh-so-smug smile tugging at her lips. “You went into horrible debt in that game. And then you reset your save file.”

“Tom Nook is a horrible, greedy little raccoon. If he were a ghost, he would have accepted a cool-looking butterfly as payment and we would have been chill,” Danny argued, fake indignant. He cleared his throat. “ANYWAY, enough about that. Because I, in real life, am totally rocking this adult stuff, I have the filing cabinet you asked for set up.”

“You’re twenty, little brother,” Jazz corrected. “Hardly a full adult yet.”

“Says you.”

She blew a raspberry at him. “But thank you,” she continued, like her lack of pristine-ness never happened. “I do feel much safer keeping our documents here.”

Danny grimaced alongside her. Neither of them needed to vocalize how tense things were getting back home, with all of the sweeps and checks the GIW gained the authority to do across. They had all more-or-less escaped Amity Park, with only Mom and Dad remaining there to annoy and distract the GIW from the important stuff. Their portal was long gone now, by necessity, and Danny’s ability to open his own was a well-kept secret, surprisingly. However, it didn’t make travel back and forth any easier when punching a hole through reality was the most subtle thing in the world. For that reason, he either stayed put in the college dorm or—like this past semester—holed up on Potato Island and attended all of his classes online. Getting a degree in engineering was mostly a consolation prize, at this point, but he wasn’t feeling up to quit just yet. Even if the GIW and the government’s hunger for ecto-based weaponry made actually having a life on Earth—in the U.S., that is—more and more difficult.

Tucker took a study abroad to France to provide temporary relief. Sam, ever the adventurer, was starting to look into other dimensions with similar Earths, because she didn’t care about uprooting herself from family she didn’t care about. Jazz, who had been the most vocal about trying to stick things out, was now moving more and more of her belongings to the Ghost Zone.

Danny practically lived on Potato Island now. Which was weird, even though he had snagged the empty haunt somewhat for this reason; that reality had seemed less pressing a few years ago, though. It honestly wasn’t that bad, because Potato Island had exploded in function when he had been more preoccupied with graduating high school and getting into a college and out of Amity without getting screened by the GIW. It was a whole city now! Unfortunately, it meant that everybody thought really highly of Danny, as if he was some mysterious leader. Vivian actually ran everything, and he was more than happy to let her; Danny was just scary enough to keep things calm in this neck of the woods. He was perfectly content with that.

Unfortunately, his impulse project came with administrative duties all the same. Maybe Jazz was onto something when she called Potato Island a miracle.

“Phantom, yer’ presence has been requested,” Daryl dutifully reported, appearing next to Danny and Jazz at his front door in a flurry of hooves. Between Vivian the multi-armed ghost of a city planner and Daryl, the enthusiastic centaur ghost of a Pony Express rider, Potato Island really, really didn’t need him beyond his ecto. They were scarily efficient. And very intent on including him on stuff.

“Can it wait?” he asked, already dreading it. If it was that pumpkin merchant again…

“Who is it?” Jazz also asked, more interested in the situation than he was.

“A traveler,” Daryl reported, to his surprise. “A real potent one, that one is. He asked for the leader of the haunt. Hannah said he was real polite, too.”

Polite? That was a new one. Okay, he’ll bite.

One step ahead of him, Jazz nudged him forward. “Go. You’ll be useless when it comes to organizing papers anyway.”

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, but he flew off to where Daryl directed him without much more fuss. Usually, ghosts that wanted to meet with him were ones interested in setting up shop here. As much as he would love to delegate that too, haunts were really picky about the permission stuff. It was, however, rather bemusing for anybody to be noteworthy in their politeness; ghosts were usually too straightforward for that.

Danny found his answer quickly enough, because it wasn’t a ghost he was meeting: it was a young, teenage, living boy.

Potent, sure. He reeked of magic, like the few living visitors of the island usually did. As long as they didn’t cause trouble, Danny didn’t care. This was a kid, though—floppy black hair, bright blue eyes, and all thin and gangly. For a split moment, Danny had to wonder if somebody cloned him again. It was uncanny.

“Um, Mr. Phantom, sir?” the kid started. He eyed Danny carefully, a bit warily, but not really scared. Still, Danny dialed back his presence, aware that the voids in all of his blacks were getting a little too deep in his startled confusion. “I’m Billy Batson. I was, uh, wondering if I could stay here? I can work for it.”

This was a kid. Ancients, a kid. A living kid. What the heck?!

Then the request hit him. “Wait. You know you’re living, right? Like, fully living. Sure your magic protects you, but I don’t think you would enjoy the Realms past the forty-eight-hour mark, bud. What do you mean, live here?”

Billy frowned and sighed with way too much exasperation than what had to be healthy for his age. Danny was immediately reminded of Ellie. Which as far as normal kid benchmarks went, was not a good sign. “I could last longer than that,” Billy argued. “And I would be in and out. I can portal here.”

Danny floated a bit closer to the ground. “Look, I’m just trying to understand something here. You’re a living human who can apparently portal between the veil. So why live here, on the side that’s not good for you?” Danny’s brain caught up a few seconds later; having once been a powerful but scrawny fourteen-year-old, he could think of a few reasons. None of them were particularly. “Are you… okay?”

Billy curled in on himself a little bit, half wilting and half defense. He squinted at Danny long and hard. “For such a famous and powerful ghost, I didn’t expect this many questions,” he muttered.

“I’m also a strange ghost,” Danny quipped, more than a little aware that young Billy here might have expected someone closer to Pandora or Overgrowth, all reverberating might and confidence. “Now, come on man, I’m not going to eat you or anything. If you came here looking for an agreement, you would know that these kind of haunt contracts demand honesty. I’ll start by saying that I’m not going to use this information against you unless you’re, like, trying to hurt me or Potato. But you gotta work with me.”

This time, Billy definitely wilted. After an agonizing minute of deliberation, he sighed. “I just… don’t have anyway else to go,” he admitted.

And Danny—

Well, Danny always had a soft, impulsive heart. He got it from his dad. And currently, it was melting.

“Okay,” Danny said, mouth moving faster than his brain. Jazz could yell at him for it later. “Okay, we’ll… figure something out.”

Danny does it at random and gives people tasks to complete every now and then. He doesn't talk, a game window appears in front of him (ecto trick or help from Desiree) and the sound plays. Billy is given a task when he tries to find Danny but later realizes that it's actually the island owner (he never met him before. only the ghosts did cuz the jld and other mages/tourists only come very occasionally for the trade and temporary refuge)"

@jc-llex I HAD TO DRAW IT-(It is kind of shitty but at least I made it)

I saw an outfit of Tom's that I remember as a yukata, so I drew Danny in one, but it turned out ugly, and the mask is horrible, but what matters is the intention. 🙏

I like to think that he would try to be the complete opposite of Tom but still with his basic characteristics, and I also like to think that he would use an alter ego that resembled Tom's name but was still different, that's where Don Nova came from.

Some magic users including from the JLD have the same theory that Nintendo based the Animal Crossing game on this, and not the other way around.

Comic Commission for @frootysparkycakes

The different negatives indicate each time he's died because he became a ghost. His numbers are red while others' numbers are blue.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

Currently a Work In Progress, just started.

Bruce blames coffee and lack of sleep for the fact that the pizza delivery boy looks like Jason, the club bouncer looks like Jason, the clerk in Damian's school looks like Jason

Jason: here's your pizza, mister *shoves it into Bruce's face*

Bruce: 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 can I ask your name

Jason: Percy, but everyone just calls me Purse. Like in "cut purse"

Bruce: *under his breath* jesus, you even SOUND like him

Jason, wide innocent eyes popping out of his chiseled man face: you okay dude?

Bruce, convinced he's finally lost his mind, but still holding on to the "illusion": Do you want to come inside?

Jason, deadpan: dude you're rich white and famous, you really think imma let you take me inside your gargantuan Gothic mansion? Being killed one time's enough

And by that, I mean he ran to the nearest bushes, and the only reason Bruce doesn't see him is because the man thinks he's going crazy and is just panicking.