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Published:
2025-09-13
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Ghost King Runs on Cheetos

Summary:

The Justice League summon the all powerful Ghost King. They get the college kid Danny Fenton. By the end Batman is ready to adopt the sassy king or possibly marry him off to one of his multitude of kids.

Work Text:

The summoning circle glowed ominously on the cold concrete floor of the Watchtower’s ritual containment chamber. Ancient runes shimmered like molten silver, humming with restrained power. Justice League members stood in a loose perimeter Superman with arms crossed like carved marble, Wonder Woman’s lasso gleaming at her hip, Zatanna whispering protective charms under her breath. Batman lingered in the shadows, silent, unreadable.

“According to every mystical source we consulted,” Martian Manhunter said gravely, “this ritual will call upon the Ghost King. The ruler of the Infinite Realms.”

“Let’s hope he’s less stab-happy than Trigon,” Flash muttered, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Last time we did one of these, I had to scrub demonic goo out of my boots for a week.”

Zatanna arched a brow. “Focus.” She gave a nod to Constantine.

The Englishman, after stubbing out his cigarette with a muttered curse, rolled his shoulders and raised the scroll. “Right then. Summoning starts. Nobody panic if the walls bleed, yeah?”

He began chanting in a language no human throat was built for. The air turned razor-sharp, every breath frosting in the lungs. The sigils burned brighter, flaring...

...and just like that with a pop like someone unplugging a cheap speaker, a college-age kid blinked into existence inside the circle. Ratty hoodie. Pajama pants with cartoon ghosts. Backpack hanging off one shoulder. Hair white as snow, eyes glowing Lazarus green. His socks didn’t match.

Danny Phantom froze mid-step, eyes darting around the chamber. The glowing runes. The armed heroes. The heavy, crackling tension.

“…Sup?” he said at last, offering a sheepish two-finger wave. “So. Uh. Who died?”

A silence stretched long enough for Flash to whisper, “That… can’t be right. That’s not a king. That’s a kid with a finals hangover.”

“Excuse me,” Danny said, pointing at himself. “This ‘kid’ has a royal crown of fire in his sock drawer and enough cosmic authority to make your dimension blink. I’m just not wearing it right now because I was making ramen.”

“You’re the Ghost King?” Wonder Woman asked, tone more curious than accusatory.

Danny nodded. “Yup. Daniel Fenton, Phantasmagoric Overlord of the Infinite Realms. You can call me Danny. Or Your Majestic Floatiness. Or just a “Hey You, don’t step on that, it bites.’”
Flash leaned toward Superman, stage-whispering, “This is the cosmic monarch of death? Do we check his ID?”

“He’s not lying,” Batman said suddenly, his gravel voice cutting through the room. “Look at the circle.”

Everyone glanced at the summoning runes. Danny, without fanfare, had one sneaker resting casually on top of the glowing perimeter line.

“Oh.” Danny looked down, then back up. “Yeah, that thing doesn’t work on me. I let it hold me when I’m being polite.”

“You’re not supposed to be outside the circle,” Zatanna snapped, nerves sharpening her tone.

“And yet,” Danny said, rocking back on his heels, “here I am. Honestly, these circles give me ghost pins and needles. Not comfy.”

The League shifted uneasily. Superman’s eyes narrowed. “Then why answer the summon at all?”

“Because someone dropped a level-nine ecto-summon with a royal tag,” Danny said matter-of-factly. “That’s basically hitting my inbox with a red siren. I came to see which genius messed up their paperwork.”

He turned slowly. His glowing eyes landed squarely on Constantine.

“…You.”

The temperature in the chamber plummeted. Danny’s voice dropped to a glacial register as his aura flared in pale-green fire. “Do you know how many forms I had to file after your last magical disaster? Two hauntings, three displaced spirits, and a cursed Ikea. I had to fight a sentient sofa named Carl.”

Constantine lit another cigarette with studied calm. “Sounds like a you problem, mate.”

“Oh no,” Danny said sweetly, “it is now a you problem. As soon as we are done here Carl shall live with you now.”

“…Carl?” Constantine asked warily.

Danny grinned, sharp and mischievous. “You’ll know him when you hear screaming from your kitchen. This is a royal decree”

Batman’s voice cut through before Zatanna could intervene. “Constantine. Stop antagonizing him. The containment isn’t working. He’s the only one here completely unfazed.”

Danny pointed finger-guns at Batman. “See? He gets it. Bat’s got brains. Also—nice cape. Very dramatic. I approve.”

Flash muttered, “Batman’s not even trying and he’s already the ghost king’s favorite.”

Batman said nothing, but the tiniest twitch of his mouth betrayed him.

Danny crouched inside the circle, poking one of the glowing runes with his finger. It hissed angrily. He poked it again. “Wow, you guys went all out with the runework. Respect. Overkill, but respect.”

Zatanna sighed. “Do you mind not treating a circle designed to hold a god like a fidget toy?”

Danny shrugged. “Can’t help it. ADHD, y’know. Also, not gonna lie, part of me wants to lick it. Forbidden neon candy.”

Flash sputtered, “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding, right?”

“Not even a little.” Danny leaned closer. “Don’t worry, I won’t. My mom raised me to have standards. Besides, ecto-burns taste like copper pennies.”

Superman pinched the bridge of his nose. “You… tasted an ectoplasmic ward before?”

Danny blinked. “You mean you haven’t? Amateur hour.”

Batman spoke up before the bickering could spiral. “Why was he summoned, exactly?”

Danny perked. “Oh, yeah. Why was I summoned? I was halfway through a Clone Wars binge.”

Superman exchanged a look with Wonder Woman. “There’s been an outbreak of necromantic energy near the Arctic…”

“Let me guess,” Danny cut in, ticking off points on his fingers. “Skeletal guys, glowing green sludge, somebody trying to use ectoplasm to resurrect an ancient weapon or being?”

“…Yes,” Superman admitted.

Danny sighed and pulled a battered thermos from his backpack. Runes glowed faintly along its rim. “Vlad’s probably trying to clone Napoleon again. Again. I swear, man’s got issues.”

“You’re going to… stop him?” Wonder Woman asked carefully.

“Yup. Give me five minutes and access to the breach, I’ll clean it up. Also—” he slung his backpack higher, “someone point me to a vending machine. Royalty runs on Cheetos.”

The League stared. Danny stared back.

Then Batman stepped out of the shadows, cape billowing. “Two corridors down. Turn left.”

Danny saluted with mock solemnity. “You’re my favorite.”

He started to float upward, phasing halfway through the glowing lines like they weren’t even there. Then he stopped, hovering inches above the circle, and gave the group a thoughtful look.

“…You know,” Danny said, “most people would be screaming or throwing holy water right now. You guys are remarkably chill.”

Flash gestured wildly. “We are not chill! You walked out of a circle that should hold gods like it was made of sidewalk chalk! I’m internally screaming right now!”

Danny tilted his head at Batman. “Not him. He’s cool as a cucumber. Bet he doesn’t even blink when eldritch horrors pop out of his basement.”

Batman’s expression didn’t move. But inside, something shifted. This strange, sarcastic, pajama-wearing monarch radiated the same chaotic, battered energy as his other kids. Reckless humor covering
sharp instincts. A teenager balancing power far too big for his shoulders.

Bruce felt the familiar tug of recognition. He’d fit right in.

Danny, oblivious to the weight of Batman’s gaze, gave the League another lazy wave. “All right, heroes. I’ll deal with your spooky skeleton problem. Then I’m going back to my ramen and my Cheetos.”

He floated through the wall like mist, humming off-key.

The Justice League stood in stunned silence.

“…So,” Flash said finally, “we’re all just cool with the ghost king being a college kid who snacks like a raccoon?”

“He’s powerful,” Wonder Woman said thoughtfully.

“And unpredictable,” Zatanna added, rubbing her temples.

Batman turned, his voice was quiet but resolute. “I like him.” His cape sweeping behind him as he exited ready to talk to Alfred.
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