Tim Drake, Danny’s human identity in this universe, is a boy trapped in an empty manor with absentee parents a low socialization.
Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is Gotham City himself. He could fly, he could interact, he could be the heart of his city like he needs to be. From the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs, Danny loved the people that were his. Well, most of them. Child molesters often found themselves crossing paths with a vengeful, mostly recovered Robin.
He is the city, he is Gotham. And with his status came more changes, ones he welcomes more readily that the changes that came with his title of Ghost King.
Being a city couldn’t change him as much as it would have, had he gained the title before becoming King. But now, his shadows are dark, curling around his shoulders and curling away what little light he allowed into his city. His skin, having once glittered green with stars and galaxies and black holes, clouds over just a bit. It gives him a misty quality. His hands become sharper, stronger. Gargoyle-like. He wonders what he looked like to Batman, holding his broken son cradled safely to himself. He’s crueler, now, but that’s easily balanced by his years of being a vigilante himself.
He loves these changes. They are loved in a way changing into Dead Danny Phantom and Ghost King Danny Phantom will never be loved. And even though his human features are different in a way he never had to deal with as Danny Fenton, because it was his body that he died in, Danny finds himself enjoying the distinction. And he enjoys when they combine, because in the end, they’re just facets of who he is, now.
Gotham flies through his city, and enjoys it as a whole. A bigger picture.
Tim Drake walks through his city, and enjoys it as an individual. The smaller picture.
Being Gotham reminds him of what he had to protect as a whole. A duty he gladly bears.
Being Tim reminds him of the people he’s meant to help, the stories he doesn’t get as Danny. A connection he gladly encouraged.
Gotham is power. He is duty, he is fierce love. But for the good of the whole.
Tim is kindness. He is choice, he is gentle devotion. But for the good of the individual.
He’s both.
Danny. Danny Phantom.
Phantom glides through the smog.
The ebb and flow of people is his life blood, the thrumming of life and death and fear and hate and love and everything the city is sung through him and Danny sung back with everything he had. Danny is the gargoyles perched high, watching everything. He’s the stone curves of the sewers, sheltering his rats and mutant murderous crocodile man. The is no love comparable to a city’s mutant rats and their sewers. Ancients, he loves his city.
It would be nice, Danny thinks wryly, if they’d love me enough to stop blowing up buildings.
The sting of destruction to his city would hurt much more, had he not also been King. Regardless, every time there’s an explosion or general large scale property damage, he feels a stab of mild pain. Catching sight of his Bats, Danny stays invisible while following them. He wills the shadows to cradle them, to hide them further. He softens the stone, the mortar, the steel, just a hint. Their footsteps, silent and aided by the city himself. The wind steal away the noise of the grappling guns, so when Danny’s favorite vigilante duo (a fascination he shared with original text!Tim) broke into the building, not a single soul aside them are aware of the intrusion.
Batman skulks across the support beams, Robin following with an anticipatory grin. Danny floats, invisible, undetectable, besides them.
“C’mon!” A goon grunts beneath them. Danny tilts his head. A… Dresden Aberthy. Wow. That’s one hell of a name.
“Hurry it up! Boss said Batman’s going to get here soon!” Another goon- Robbert- said, waving around a gun like a moron at the terrified hostages. Danny could tell half of them were part of a tour bus, mostly because the other half were his Gothamites, bored and unfairly used to this kind of thing. The tourists… He’s fond of them, having kept track of their progress through his city. He doesn’t care for intruders on his haunt, but tourists like to appreciate his city and its doubtlessly Sam-approved architecture. Most of them. Rude tourists get pigeon shit on their heads and food stolen by his lovely rats.
He’ll have to make sure none of the bullets hit the tourists. He likes this group, even if he has enough awareness to question their sanity in choosing his city to sightsee. He knows it’s a mess. It’s Danny’s mess though, so whatever.
——
All said and done, Batman whoops ass and Robin rescues the hostages just fine. Danny grins proudly as Robin knees a guy in the crotch and punches a lady’s throat in order to incapacitate them.
After they tied the goons up, and interrogated them for Two Face’s plans- explode a quarter of Gotham to distract the Bats from his diabolical plan to murder half of Gotham’s judges and lawyers that have been going after him and his people- the duo retreats to the rooftop.
“Didja think Gotham saw that?”
Batman goes to reply, but Danny beats him to it, coming back to visibility with a wind touched laugh.
“I did, little Robin.” Danny smiles, fangs and shadows on display as his vigilantes startles and whips around to face him. “You did well.”
Robin- Jason!- gapes at him.
“I see you’ve recovered, little bird.”
“Gotham! Oh. Wow. People always said Gotham was a lady, but you’re a guy!”
“It was a Lady,” Danny confirmed. “It’s complicated, little bird.”
“So, you’re really… you’re really Gotham? The city?”
Danny looks at Robin with the weight of the city behind his gaze.
“I think you know the answer to that. But yes, I am your city.”
“Constantine,” Batman starts. “He said that city spirits only appear in times of grave danger.”
There is deference in his words. Batman is Batman for Gotham, after all. Danny just wishes he could… well, be friendlier with his knights. May this is a good place to start.
Are you in danger? What threats do we need to handle? How can I help? How can I protect? Please, let me help.
His Knight always felt more than he ever says. Danny smiles.
“Was Robin’s wellbeing not in grave danger?” Danny floats closer. “I am your city. You protect me, it is only right that I protect you, no?”
“Thank you for saving me, Gotham!” Robin’s grin is a touch more sincere than usual.
“Of course, Robin. You are loved.”
“Is there… a reason you’ve shown yourself today? Gotham.”
Danny chuckles, understanding the awkwardness that was Batman addressing someone with deference.
“I wanted to tell you that you did well tonight. Those tourists weren’t harmed in the slightest. Well done.” Danny gave Robin a playful but sincere thumbs up.
“They weren’t a match for us!”
“No, they weren’t.” Danny ruffles Robin’s hair, noticing how still he grew at it. “Robin was too fast for them. That maneuver at the end was masterfully executed.”
Batman clears his throat and Danny resists the urge to laugh at him. It would be mean.
“Thank you, for the… praise.”
Fuck it. He’s played well behaved for too long.
“Yes. I read in child rearing books that positive reinforcement is necessary for healthy development. You did well, Batman.”
Despite trolling Batman- and somehow holding a straight (and hopefully wise face)- he meant every word.
Allowing a small smile to slip at Robin’s chortles and Batman’s quiet sputtering, Danny moves on.
“Where is Nightwing, Batman?”
“He’s still on a mission...”
“If it is awkward to refer to me as Gotham, Phantom will do.”
Batman dips his head once. “In space, with the Teen Titans.”
“I see. Please tell him I request his presence,” Danny barely waits for Batman’s oddly acquiescing agreement before summoning a pigeon.
“Follow her,” Danny instructs the duo. “She’ll lead you to the places with explosives. I will guide you through her, to Harvey Dent.”
Danny winces as another explosion rings out.
“Your face is cracking!” Robin exclaimed, worried. He surged forward to stare at the hairline cracks appearing on Danny’s jaw.
“That would be the explosives. Any damage to the city will be shown on me.”
“Well take care of it.” Batman growled, shoulders straightening once more into an imposing symbol.
“Yeah!”
“I know you will. Stay safe.” Danny disappears, spreading his awareness and directing his Birds to the explosives that will go off the fastest.
Batman and Robin share a glance and leaps off the roof, ready to save their city once more.
——
Tim Drake wanders around Crime Alley, and meets a blonde nine year old trying to throw hands at her absentee Riddler knockoff of a dad. He dodges the brick en route to his face and kicks the guy’s knees out.
“You okay?”
The girl blinks. She stares at her dad, groaning on the dirty street of crime alley, and flicks her gaze back up to Tim, who waits casually.
“Yep. I’m Stephanie. We’re gonna be friends now!”
She grins at him, a baby tooth missing, and Danny melts.
“Heck yeah. Tim!” He introduces himself for the first time in a long time.
Maybe with Stephanie around, he’ll finally use the name Tim? Maybe he’ll get used to it, finally!
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you were raised in comparison.
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.
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Got any Farah, Valeria, & Laswell hcs? Anything, really- I'm dying for my girls 🤲🤲🤲
Hello! Yeah, I was able to come up with a few! I already wrote a few for Valeria here! Somehow, I forgot to put them in my masterlist, though, which I have since fixed! Thank you for making me aware of this, though :-) These are general Headcanons, though, since I had an easier time coming up with those and because you didn't specify, I hope that's okay!
Valeria, Farah and Laswell HCs
Valeria: She’s always had quite the temper, even when she was young. While she may not have been spoiled to hell and back as a child, she usually got what she wanted, as long as it wasn’t something extraordinarily big, her parents always took care of her like that. Valeria loved her mother, they got along very well with each other, and she also took after her, having inherited her personality for the most part. Her father was a bit calmer than the two of them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get along either. Whereas her mother would encourage her to do most things, her father would try to talk sense into her if it was a bad idea. She often sulked because of it, which is why she didn’t like her father as much as her mother, but as she got older she realized he meant well. Sometimes she still thinks about his advice, but the both of them died a long time ago, so most things they’ve told her are a distant memory by now. Valeria may be successful with what she’s doing and doesn’t like being told what to do, but sometimes she does wish she could still eat some sweets with her parents like she used to.
Joining the military actually wasn’t her first choice of career. She tried many places, but no one would take her, so she opted for the military, which welcomed her with open arms. She got paid. Not well, but she received the money, which was important since her parents couldn’t leave her with too much. They didn’t have very much either, so there wasn’t much to be inherited. Because she’s a woman, a few creeps tried to harass her, but she had none of it and beat all three of them up herself and on her own. Ever since that incident she wasn’t a big fan of the military either, but no other place would take her. However, it showed just how capable she was and earned her a lot of respect. A few other men would try to make advances towards her, but she shot them down every time. However, whenever another female soldier would jokingly flirt with her, that’s when she’d give it her all, making it her goal to fluster her beyond all hell. She’s spent a few evenings and nights with a few female soldiers, but was always willing to rip a male soldier’s dick off if he was being too friendly with her. During her time as a soldier she also realized that she preferred women.
She didn’t always hate Alejandro, actually. Back in the day, they got along very well. He was a man, yes, but he had enough respect for her. It wasn’t a given, even if it should have been, but she appreciated it. Whenever they sparred he gave it his all as well and never looked down on her. In his eyes, the two of them were equals and it showed. Valeria could appreciate that. She liked him, she spent a night with him but realized she hated that sort of stuff with men. He was the final realization for her that Valeria does not like men. It didn’t make her hate him at first, though. Only when he insisted on the two of them being a thing did she develop some form of disdain for him. Once she told him that she could never feel the same way, he stopped. However, he also started treating her a bit differently since he was in love with her. As he rose in ranks, he was a bit harsher on her than the other soldiers, usually dissatisfied with anything she did. He didn’t even notice that, but Valeria did. Therefore he became just another scum to her.
Farah: Before her town got attacked, she actually had a pretty happy childhood. She was sweet and kind as a kid, she got along well with her parents and her brother and she had a few close friends. Farah loved going outside to play, sometimes even inviting her parents to make potions with her in a bucket filled with water, sand and rocks. Her parents were always afraid of the Russians invading and tried to keep their children safe regardless of what happened, but in the end they were unable to. It hit Farah pretty hard, she loved her parents. Even now she misses them dearly since they always took such good care of her and her brother. At least she still had her brother. Farah knew she was the younger one out of the two of them, so she likely should have been the one to be protected, but once her town got attacked she became determined to make sure her brother would stay with her. Drastic times called for drastic measures, so she actually has killed people just so her brother could stay alive. It was around that time that other people realized how she was a very caring person still and could be trusted. Slowly, through that realization, she was able to gather a small force that could help her.
Farah is a pretty good leader. The people she works with adore her because, under that rough exterior, she’s still a good person. All her brothers and sisters know she can be trusted with just about anything. She rarely ever says no upon hearing a request of one of her people, knowing fully well what it’s like to need something. As she’s been through a lot herself, she always has an open ear for her brothers and sisters. While there’s not always time to listen to everyone’s concerns, if she does have time she’ll listen to you intently. Farah knows a lot more about her people than she lets on, that ranges from how the latest battle has gone to how her sister’s family is doing. She’s never one to turn down someone in need, always offering food and shelter. I know she may seem stern, because she has to be in order to be a good leader, but deep down she’s still the same kind girl that she’s always been. Her people would give up just about anything for her, and they do. One day, Farah dreams, Urzikstan will be free, it will be safe and it will prosper, its people won’t have anything to fear anymore. Trade will continue, the people will be happy and she can finally lay down her weary head and rest for a bit. But until then, she swore she’ll fight and fight until everything is finally over.
She’s never actually been in love. When she had the chance to develop a crush she was too young. Now that she’s older she doesn’t have time for anything lovey dovey in the slightest. Alex was the first person she ever developed a crush on. He may have seemed like an enemy at first, but it quickly enough became evident that that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was a good man, someone who could be trusted no matter what. He was loyal to a fault as well, which Farah could appreciate. However, she never told him, swallowing her feelings down instead no matter how intense they became. Yet, she sort of did always look forward to his small gestures of affection. Alex is a physically affectionate guy, so he’d sometimes pat her shoulder, put a hand on her shoulder or gently bump her arm to show he liked her. Farah is severely touch starved, so it made for a good combination. One time, he asked if she would like a hug, to which she said yes. To this day, Farah thinks about that hug since it was the first one she had received in seven or eight years. It may not have seemed like she was swayed at the time, but she was very content afterwards.
Laswell: Laswell’s parents didn’t really care too much for her. Don’t get me wrong, they provided for her physical needs, but they barely looked after her in any other regard, thinking she was happy because she had everything she could ever need. Laswell may have been strong because of it, even then, but she did wish her parents had cared more about other things as well, such as how she was doing emotionally. There were quite a few things that hurt her during her childhood, but she barely had anyone who would support her during her rough times. Her parents only ever wanted to see her happy and content, but barely made any effort to actually keep her as such. Laswell knew fairly early on that she was a lesbian and did come out to her parents, but that’s all that happened. It was never discussed again afterwards, even if her father would sometimes say that she would “find the right guy eventually” while talking to other people. Laswell has called him out on it numerous times, but he always made it about him and how he was the victim for saying something that made his daughter uncomfortable. Laswell didn’t stay in contact with her parents for very long once she moved out.
Even back when she was a child, Laswell knew she wanted to do something more exciting than be a hairdresser, waitress or cook. She wanted to do something with plenty of action, but at the same time she wanted to study and go to university. And thus she combined her wishes and started going to university at first. Afterwards, sometime in her twenties, she started to work for the CIA. She wasn’t treated with very much respect there at first, being a woman working there and all. But she didn’t let that disrespect get her down. In fact, on the outside, she stayed professional, but on the inside she took mental notes on who treated her badly and who didn’t. It soon enough became evident that Laswell knew what she was doing, even if her master’s degree should have been proof enough that there was some intelligence in that noggin of hers. However, soon enough she was transferred. In fact, she was transferred many times before she became a station chief, but it only showed just how competent she was in her field. Laswell has since saved thousands of lives and is proud of it. To her, such a thing is her calling and she wants to continue doing so for as long as she can, all the dangers be damned.
Laswell adores her wife. In fact, “Laswell” isn’t her original last name, she took that of her wife. At first they played with the idea of combining their names, but Laswell wanted fairly little to do with her parents at that point. Plus she wanted to show her father that she never “found the right guy”. So her being named Laswell is purely out of spite. While she may not be at home all the time, or very often, for that matter, she makes sure to bring her wife a gift every time she comes home. It can be something small, such as a souvenir she found while she was abroad, or it could be something along the lines of a golden ring that unfolds into an astronomical sphere. She needs to pamper her wife like that and make sure she knows Laswell loves her to the moon and back. Money isn’t an issue for her, she gets paid very well. Even if the biggest reward for her doing what she does is seeing her wife smile. Every time she sees her give her a big smile she’s reminded of why she does what she does, and that’s the most wonderful thing for her. Even so, not many people know about Laswell’s wife, only a select few do. It’s a safety measure since she knows people will target her. Although she’s a diplomatic kind of person, if anyone ever were to hurt her wife, then that person can be certain they’ll never walk freely among the sunlight again.
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