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Danny had spent the last six years building something stable out of the Infinite Realms.
Which, honestly, still sounded ridiculous when he thought about it too hard.
At twenty years old, Danny Phantom was somehow the acting Leader of the Infinite Realms version of the League of Assassins, mediator of territorial disputes, protector of portals, the peacemaker, and — according to Frostbite — “a deeply beloved young lord.”
Danny personally thought that title lost meaning the third time he had to stop two eldritch entities from starting a war over haunted soup recipes.
Still, the system worked.
So Danny did his rounds.
Checking territories. Listening to complaints. Solving problems before they became catastrophes.
And unfortunately, that included Walker’s Prison.
The prison loomed in the distance like a rusted beast made of iron and misery. Chains rattled endlessly somewhere in the fog while ghosts scattered out of Danny’s way the moment they spotted him.
Walker himself appeared almost immediately.
“Lord Phantom,” Walker greeted stiffly, eye twitching like it physically pained him to be respectful.
Danny gave him a lazy salute. “Walker. Any riots? Escape attempts? Illegal soul harvesting rings?”
“Only three this week.”
Danny snorted quietly and continued walking through the massive prison halls, half-listening as Walker listed updates about inmates, contraband, and a smuggling operation involving cursed playing cards.
Then Danny stopped dead.
His body just… halted.
Like every instinct he had suddenly slammed into a wall.
Down in the cafeteria, surrounded by dead warlords, failed tyrants, and extradimensional criminals, sat a living human.
An older man with sharp green eyes and a white streaks in dark hair, perfect posture despite the prison uniform.
Danny’s core went ice cold.
Walker noticed immediately. “Lord Phantom?”
Danny didn’t answer at first.
Because there was no way.
No fucking way.
But Danny knew that face.
He remembered that face looking down at him with complete indifference.
He remembered being ten years old and realizing, in those final moments, that this man had never loved him at all.
“…Walker,” Danny said quietly.
Walker straightened.
“Who,” Danny asked with terrifying calm, “is the Mortal?”
“Oh. Ra’s al Ghul,” Walker answered. “Imprisoned for the illegal misuse and contamination of Lazarus Waters across multiple realms.”
Danny stared.
Then he laughed.
It was sharp. Breathless. Wrong.
Several nearby ghosts immediately pretended they had somewhere else to be.
“Oh,” Danny murmured. “Oh, this is rich.”
His eyes flared green.
Not the bright, clean ectoplasmic green most ghosts associated with Phantom.
This was darker.
Sickly.
The color of corrupted Lazarus Waters.
Walker took one instinctive step backward.
Every survival instinct he had developed over centuries screamed at him to leave immediately and pretend he had never seen anything.
Unfortunately, it was his prison.
Phantom started walking again.
Slowly.
The cafeteria quieted almost immediately as inmates noticed him approaching. Conversations died mid-sentence. Trays stopped moving.
Ra’s looked up at the disturbance with visible annoyance.
Then confusion.
Because the being walking toward him looked young, young enough to be almost insulting.
Tall now, broad-shouldered, clad in black and white with space itself curling unnaturally through the edges of his aura — but still young.
And furious.
“Ra’s al Ghul,” Phantom said pleasantly.
The room went still at the tone.
“Well,” Phantom continued, smiling without warmth, “this is a surprise.”
Ra’s narrowed his eyes. “Should I know you?”
Phantom’s smile widened.
“You know,” Phantom said conversationally, “that answer honestly hurts my feelings a little.”
Ra’s opened his mouth, but he never got to speak.
One second he was sitting down.
The next, his face slammed into the metal cafeteria table hard enough to crater it.
The sound echoed through the entire prison.
Several inmates screamed.
One ghost in the back dropped his lunch tray and whispered, “Oh, thank Ancients it’s not me this time.”
Phantom had Ra’s pinned before anyone could react, one hand twisted into the man’s hair while his other pressed him against the ruined table.
“Don’t worry,” Phantom called casually over his shoulder. “I’ll fix the table later.”
Walker stared at the destroyed table.
“…You always say that.”
“I usually mean it.”
Ra’s struggled violently beneath him. Phantom barely had to use force anymore. Twenty years old in human age meant very little when his existence had become something vast and ancient enough to make lesser ghosts instinctively lower their heads around him.
Phantom shoved Ra’s to the floor instead.
Hard.
Then planted a boot against his throat.
The entire cafeteria watched in horrified silence.
Because Phantom was kind.
Phantom negotiated treaties.
Phantom gave second chances.
Phantom once sat through a forty-hour mediation between two warlords because one had allegedly “stolen the other’s emotional support leviathan.”
This?
This was something else.
Phantom looked down at Ra’s with open hatred.
Not rage.
Not blind fury.
Hatred aged over ten long years.
Carefully preserved.
“Walker,” Phantom said calmly, never taking his eyes off Ra’s, “how much money would it take to transfer custody of this inmate to me?”
“What?”
Phantom finally glanced back. “I asked how much.”
Walker blinked.
Then blinked again.
Because somehow that was the part that disturbed him most. Phantom — the paragon of individual rights and resident goodie-two-shoes — would never ask something like, "How much money do you want for him?" as if this were a slave market.
Pointdexter slowly raised a hand from one of the cafeteria tables. “Uh… Lord Phantom? Respectfully? What the fuck is happening?”
Phantom ignored him.
Ra’s finally managed to rasp out, “Who… are you?”
Phantom stared at him.
Actually stared.
And his grip tightened slightly against Ra’s throat.
"Seriously? You don't recognize me even after all the hints I gave you?" Phantom mocked. "Don't you remember how you treated me? Like a punching bag? Like a spare? Don't you remember putting your foot on my neck until I died, only to use my body like some twisted kind of footrest?!"
Ra’s went still.
Walker’s expression changed instantly.
“Oh,” Pointdexter whispered faintly.
Phantom’s voice never rose.
That somehow made it worse.
“No,” he breathed, face going pale.
Recognition finally hit him.
“Oh,” Phantom mocked quietly, smiling. “There it is.”
“…Tariq?”
The name sounded wrong coming from him.
Phantom’s eyes glowed violently green.
“Don’t.” The word cracked through the cafeteria like thunder. “You don’t get to say my name like you know me, grandfather.”
Hear me out: Adult* Danny who is raising a formerly de-aged* Dani. And one day she comes home with Kon*, and Danny just shrugs and adopts Kon on the spot, so now Danny has two kids. A few weeks later, Kon comes to Danny and asks him to make Kon's templates suffer some inconvenience.
End of story, Danny sues Superman and Lex Luthor for Child support.
Only Kon, Dani, and Tucker(who got all the documents ready) are enjoying this. Danny's sorta just chilling and going along with it, he doesn't really need Child Support, especially from two people, so he'll probably just put all the payments into funds for the kids' futures and give them more allowance(Kon insists Dani be given some of it too and Danny won't fight him on his decision).
*About Dani being "Formerly De-Aged", I mean she was de-aged to stableize her, but at this point has regrown into a 12-14 year old
*Kon should be 15-17
*Danny is 30-32
-How did Dani find/meet Kon? Danny does not know, or care. Dani came home one day with him and said "Dad can he be my new brother?!", Danny asked "Do you have parents and or templates?", and Kon responded with "None that care about or want me.", and Danny just nodded and said "Welp, guess you're mine then kiddo. Do you like spaghetti? We're having spaghetti but if you don't like it I can make you something else.", and Kon hugged him and never wanted to let him go.
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Good parents Jack and Maddie crying as their baby boy goes off to college. They've turned off the portal and are in the process of correcting their initial findings so everyone in town tries to avoid them otherwise you will be subjected to the new findings which mark ecto entities as sapient and therefore deserving of rights or gushing about how Danny is off to college since his small business pays so well. He did so well he rejected the scholarships from Gotham University because he said it would be better going to someone who needs it and they did such a good job raising him because look at how successful and generous he is!
The business in question is more of a cheat since being king of the infinite Realms means he is fluent in any language to exist. Safe, dead, or extinct the status of a language doesn't matter to him. With Technus's help he sets up and online portal where people can submit pictures or copies of stuff for him to translate at a premium price. He refuses to take any money from the fruit loop and the money he learns will go towards his clone's schooling when she gets to that point. Right now she is using it for her travels and sending them postcards.
People who claim his translations as their own get black listed with a huge fee coming out of their bank account for the breach of contract. He is trying to keep his business on the down low so those breakthroughs that get on the news are not what he is looking for. His main demographic is rich snobs with private art collections. What Danny doesn't know is that his main customers are the Justice League.
There are some clues but he kinda ignores them. Like when a document submitted is a summoning ritual he sends back a partial translation since the summoning is not good (there are worst beings they could summon but it will still be a hassle) however revealing knowledge of the banishment is harmless.
Gotham cultists hate him because they know he can translate the whole document/book but all of their attempts to trace the sage of tongues (trying to give invisobill kinda vibes) they find a dead end. They try submitting from different computers, locations, routers, anything, but just end up giving Danny more money lol
The Justice League is almost in tears because the jusyice league dark could not agree on the translation of the banishment ritual and everything they tried before had failed.
His favorite translations are the stories that give alien vibes. They talk about certain structures (he thinks it might be structures) as if they are common knowledge. Unknown to him those are Kryptonian fairy tales that Lois submitted. She didn't want to give Jon a funny accent so Clark can read them in Kryptonian while she does the English.
Duke having a hard time with an assignment, sends an inquiry asking if he offers homework help (he wouldn't be using it for career advancement which is against the terms of service BUT he would be claiming it for points so he asked) and that is how Tim finds out about this sketchy website that can translate anything. Danny feels the sincerity and sleep deprivation in the inquiry so he replies back "I admire your courage and will do you a solid but only if your promise to sleep a minimum of 8 hours. I'll know if you don't and snitch so go to sleep 😴" The translation is attached and already in the format his teacher requested.
Steph: How is he gonna know?
Duke: Idk but he is a life saver!
Tim: Duke, did you just sell your soul for a homework assignment?
Duke: Let me sleep and then we'll see what happens 🥱
Tim is driven crazy because he needs to know who is behind the website. And also because Constantine was kinda in the area and said no. Duke has his soul even if he doesn't sleep, lucky bugger.
Tim feels like the world is conspiring against him when it sends the cutest distraction in one his gen ed courses. He will date the cute guy AND solve this mystery out of spite.
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the one thing my latest fic is doing right now is making me really like the utilisation of Drake Manor after Tim is adopted by Bruce. like, if we have Tim’s parents dying before they go broke, then Drake Manor is just… sitting empty. waiting for tenants.
and i’m just saying a fresh-from-the-league Jason Todd is a perfect tenant. i want him to use his crime lord earnings to buy Drake Manor from Tim and start living next door Specifically to piss off Bruce. he is going to be the worst neighbour ever. he’s gonna call the police on Bruce on a random Tuesday night to complain about noise despite being half a fucking mile away. he’s gonna grow trees and shrubs encroaching on the edge of Wayne property. he’s gonna declare himself head of the bristol homeowners association and send passive aggressive letters about how the gates to Wayne Manor break some kind of height code by precisely half an inch. he’s gonna be the worst.
even funnier is if Bruce absolutely does not know the Red Hood’s identity. he has no idea Jason is his neighbour and Tim is absolutely not telling him because seeing Bruce’s patience with their new neighbour crumble over the course of six months has been the best entertainment since that one time he went to the circus and saw some acrobats. when asked who he sold the manor to he just has to be all vague, like ‘just some regular single dad and his son, idk.’
the son is Damian. Damian has absolutely no fucking clue what the point of him coming to Gotham was if Jason wasn’t even going to introduce him to his biological father, but Drake Manor has a pool and for the first time in his life he’s living a life that doesn’t include getting up at the crack of dawn for training or ridiculous pressure to succeed stemming from bloodlines and birthright, so you know what? he’s fine with it. he’s living his best life. life would be a fucking vacation if Jason hadn’t signed him up for school and demanded he do ‘normal children stuff’.
basically i just want suburban single dad Jason moving him and Damian into the manor next door and only Tim knowing they’re there. i want Damian being Tim’s ‘school friend from next door that sometimes comes round for school projects and happens to look remarkably like Bruce’, and i want Jason to be living his best suburbia life while being able to piss Bruce off both at home and on patrol.
eventually Bruce decides to just be neighbourly and convinces Damian to invite his ‘dad’ to the next Wayne Gala. Jason absolutely is going to attend, even if it fucks up his secret identity, and he is absolutely going to be telling an already shell-shocked Bruce that Damian’s mother is Talia Al Ghul, juuuuust to see what happens when Bruce is forced to assume his presumed-dead son is actually somehow alive and the father of his ex’s child. all while in public at a civilian gala.
Picture this: a scenario where the JL doesn’t know Batman & Robin’s secret identities yet. Maybe they don’t even know if Robin is real or just a rumor online. And they’re discussing a time for their next meeting when Batman just interjects:
“Saturday won’t work for me. My son’s baseball team is having a bake sale.”
The entire room goes silent, because no one realized Batman even had a kid. Or went out in the daylight.
“What?” one of the others asks, still shocked.
“A bake sale,” Batman says slowly, like they’re all a little stupid. “It’s a fundraiser.”
“I know what a bake sale is! But since when do you have a kid?”
“Have you not met Robin?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “He’s been to the Watchtower several times now.”
“Robin’s your kid?” gets asked first, followed closely by someone else asking, “Robin is real?”
“Can’t you just drop him off?” Superman asks, trying to calm the situation.
“Well I’m also the coach, so that probably wouldn’t be setting a very good example for the kids, Superman.”
“You’re the coach?” Someone asks.
“Yes.”
“Of a little league team?”
“Yes.”
“Are we in the Twilight Zone?” Hal whispers to Barry, who shushes him.
“Will Sunday work?” Superman asks quickly, wanting this to get resolved.
“So long as it’s over with by 4pm.”
“Why?”
“I told Robin I’d take him to the Gotham Knights game.”
Everyone’s heads are spinning. Batman is actually acting like a normal guy with a normal kid. This is not at all what they imagined he was like outside of the cowl. Some of them didn’t think he ever actually took the cowl off at all.
That Sunday, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are seen on TV arriving a little late to sit behind home plate at the Gotham Knights game. Dick, 9 years old, looks very grumpy about being late until Bruce gets him a giant ice cream to make up for the fact that his meeting ran long. It still takes a few years before the JL find out Bruce Wayne is Batman.
Danny, the JL's Secretary: Ladies, and Gentlemen Welcome to the most Anticipated Event of this Watchtower's History. The auction for: *pulls out a very old looking suitcase*
Flash: The Suitcase of Mystery!
Danny: Exactly Flash, this puppy's been in the lost and found since the tower was first built. Nobody working here today knows its contents. I'm happy to say Batman has finally given me permission to auction it off!
Flash: I'll let you give me a spray tan! Any shade you want!
Danny: Flash, willing to sacrifice his dignity. Who can top it?
Constantine: Massage! I'll give you a massage!
Danny: Connie, going in the wrong direction and getting himself disqualified!
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If you are young and fit and healthy, get a hobby you can do while ill. Something that brings you joy and you can still enjoy while laid out with flu or whatever.
Future you will thank you for not pinning your ability to enjoy and get any sense of achievement on having the base energy levels of a teenager.
Sure, you might still be dancing and playing tennis and running marathons in your 80s. Or you might be walking short distances with a cane between breath stops in your 30s, and really glad past-you found those breath stops were so much more enjoyable if you brought a pencil and some paper to draw the pigeons you were sharing a bench with.
honestly the whole deal of the batboys dressing up as each other for JLA business is, objectively, supremely funnier if their identities aren’t even hidden anymore. they don't need to fill in for each other, the kids just like annoying everyone. they'll swap outfits and lie whenever they can, just to see how long they can go before one of them gets caught out. they'll always get found in the oddest moments and it never fails to piss off everybody else at the Watchtower.
-
Wonder Woman: -oh, and thank you to Red Robin for that piece of insight you gave us last week, it was very helpful.
Damian dressed up as Tim, has no idea what she's talking about: ....no worries.
Aquaman: oh i wasn't here last week, what did you say?
Red Robin:
Red Robin: ....if you... sprinkle cinnamon on your window-ledges, then spiders aren't as likely to come into your house...?
Aquaman:
Wonder Woman:
Woman Woman: i was referring to the fact that you checked our suspect list and absolved Leonard Woodgate from suspicion due to his documented presence in Gotham during the incident.
Red Robin:
Red Robin: ah.
Wonder Woman, glaring at him: Damian.
Red Robin: fuck.
-
*Nightwing, on his phone at the meeting table*
Green Lantern: hey, Dick, can you pass me my coffee?
Nightwing: *doesn't glance over*
Green Lantern: Dick.
Green Lantern: Diiiick?
Green Lantern: RICHARD? DICK???
Batman walking in: you called me?
Green Lantern, looking between them: w- oh for fucks sake- WHERE'S BRUCE?
Dick as Batman, shrugging: honestly i didn't even ask- hey, Tim, where's B?
Nightwing: *still doesn't look up*
Red Hood, showing up in the doorway: did you say my name?
Dick as Batman, now also slightly confused: ...oh is Jason me today?
Jason as Nightwing, finally looking up: oh- sorry, what? completely zoned out there.
Tim as Red Hood: yeah man, i'm Jason, Jason's you, and you're B while he's at the dentist.
Dick: ...huh.
Green Lantern: IF YOU CAN'T TELL HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO?!
-
Robin, walking into the room: i'm here, are we starting the meeting soon?
*The rest of the league not giving him a second look*
Superman: ah, hello Damian. yes, sit down, we're starting soon.
Robin:
Robin:
Tim as Robin, angrily: oh fuck off- I AM NOT SHORT ENOUGH TO PASS AS DAMIAN.
The JL:
Damian as Red Robin, walking into the room and muttering under his breath: told you, you loser.
-
bonus:
*Red Hood, pouring himself a coffee in the Watchtower kitchen*
Arsenal, coming up behind him and pinching Hood's ass: hey sexy, you coming to mine after this thing or am i coming to yours? we went to mine last time, but i dunno the weather in Gotham this week, so your choice.
Red Hood:
Red Hood:
Arsenal: what?
Dick as Red Hood: this cannot fucking be how i find out you're fucking my little brother, Roy.
Arsenal:
Arsenal: are you fucking- STOP DOING THIS.
Jason as Batman, walking into the room and looking at them for a second:
Jason as Batman: please tell me-
Dick: you treat my fucking brother with respect, Harper.
Jason as Batman: *loses his shit*
Arsenal, staring at the ground chastised, as Batman cries from laughter on the floor across the room: ...yes Richard. I will.
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