#ghostlyglimmer's fanfiction

[ghostlyglimmer]

You're Grounded Mister

Summary:

A mission gone wrong leaves the Batkids bickering—until Batman grounds them and Danny Fenton, a confused civilian caught in the chaos. This one-shot is based on this post by Shower-Phantom-Ideas

It had all gone downhill fast.

The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.

But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.

As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”

And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.

And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.

“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”

“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.

“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.

“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”

“Maybe if you’d listened—”

Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”

Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”

“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.

The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.

By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.

“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”

The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.

He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.

“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”

Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”

Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.

“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”

Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”

“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”

They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.

As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”

Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”

Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.

[ghostlyglimmer]

OHH, this is such a fun idea, I had to whip up something based on this!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60415048

It had all gone downhill fast.

The plan had been Dick’s idea—though Tim and Jason definitely could have pointed out the glaring holes in it, and Damian hadn’t exactly offered his usual dose of cynicism. It was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out operation. Minimal risk, maximum payoff.

But things got complicated when that guy showed up. Just some kid, and not even a vigilante or a rogue. It was supposed to be a straightforward job in Gotham’s shadier district—stop the exchange of a highly dangerous chemical, break up the bad guys, be home in time for breakfast. But, no, some civilian had gotten in the way and distracted the gangsters long enough to mess with their timing.

As Jason would tell it later, “It was just bad luck.” As Bruce would say, “It was complete negligence.”

And as for Danny? Well, he didn’t have much of a say in it. Not that he was about to back down from a bunch of armed gangsters, especially with the Batkids swooping in around him, leaving chaos and knocked-out criminals in their wake. Danny had handled a few of them before they even showed up, quietly taking out the last of them when Bruce finally stepped in.

And now they were here, a tense, heated argument in a dark Gotham alley.

“You should have waited for backup!” Bruce snapped, his voice slicing through their squabbles. “I told you it was a risk to go in alone—especially when we didn’t have all the intel! This is about safety, and clearly—”

“Right, clearly we were fine until you stepped in,” Jason shot back, scowling.

“It would have gone smoothly if someone didn’t just happen to be there,” Dick muttered, clearly feeling defensive.

“It was your idea, Grayson!” Tim hissed, his voice laden with frustration. “Don’t turn this around.”

“Maybe if you’d listened—”

Damian scoffed. “I could have handled them on my own.”

Bruce’s frown deepened, and he turned to Danny, who was awkwardly inching his way toward the exit.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Bruce said, turning his Batglare on him. “You’re grounded too.”

Danny froze, one foot halfway lifted in a tippy-toe pose. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

The Batkids stopped mid-argument and looked at Danny, then back at Bruce, then at each other, as if piecing something together. Dick’s face morphed from irritation to confusion; Jason’s went slack.

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir, with all due respect, I’m just some guy,” Danny said slowly, staring at Bruce. “Can… Can Batman even do that?”

“Everyone in the Batmobile,” Bruce said firmly, ignoring Danny’s question. “We’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

Danny, still too stunned to process much beyond “Batman grounded me,” felt himself nodding along. Guess we’re going with it.

The ride was silent and tense. Jason looked broody, arms crossed, staring out the window. Tim rubbed his temples, probably rethinking every tactical choice. Dick was sulking, and Damian, surprisingly, just looked mad at being lumped in with the others. Danny, meanwhile, stayed very still, wedged between Tim and Jason, trying not to breathe too loudly. It was a surreal experience—he was tired, his limbs ached, and his brain was reeling from the absurdity of it all, but it was Batman. The Batmobile wasn’t exactly the place to make his objections.

By the time they reached the Batcave, Danny figured he’d try for some clarity.

“Uh,” he started, looking around at the cavernous space, vast and impressive, filled with tech and lights. “So, do you mind if I, uh, call my family to tell them I won’t be home tonight?”

The entire cave fell silent. Jason froze mid-complaint, Dick and Tim stopped sulking, and Damian’s scowl melted into shock. All four of them stared at Danny, and then slowly, like someone had hit pause, their heads turned to look at Bruce.

He seemed unbothered, glancing at Danny as if this were just standard procedure. But for everyone else, the realization was dawning. Dick was the first to speak, his voice wavering.

“Uh… Bruce?” Dick asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Did… Did you kidnap a civilian?”

Bruce frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason burst out laughing, doubling over, his hands clutching his sides. “Oh, this is gold. He’s not even a rogue, B. He’s just some random guy you told to get in the car!”

Danny held up his hands. “In my defense, it was Batman, okay? Who’s going to not get in the Batmobile when Batman tells you you’re grounded?”

Tim covered his face with both hands, muffling his laugh. Damian scowled, crossing his arms.

“This is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Father, you’re losing credibility by the second.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, clearly irked by the fact that his kids’ attention had wandered from the initial issue. They had disobeyed him, endangered a civilian, and now they were laughing because, okay, maybe he had unintentionally forced said civilian to join them in the Batcave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly rethinking several recent decisions.

“Alright,” Bruce finally said. “My apologies. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you don’t need to be here. We’ll get you a ride back home.”

Danny blinked, a little surprised. “So, wait, I’m not grounded?”

“No, you’re not grounded,” Bruce replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jason snickered. “Damn, you got off easy. We’re grounded for sure.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and the smiles faded from the other Batkids’ faces. “Yes, you’re grounded,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you.”

They groaned in unison, but Danny, relieved beyond measure, was already edging toward the door. He nodded a quick thank you to Batman and managed a small, awkward wave to the others.

As he left, he could hear Dick muttering, “Grounded… from what? We’re grown men!”

Jason groaned. “Grounded as in, no solo missions, genius.”

Danny paused, letting the sounds of the Batfamily’s complaints echo behind him as he took the lift back to ground level. He shook his head, chuckling. Only in Gotham. Only with Batman would you end up “grounded” for just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But hey—at least he got a free ride in the Batmobile out of it.

Imagine the batkids fuck up major and a batdad had to step in and clean up their mistake

Everyone kinda embarrassed because of their blunder and Jason is lashing out to protect himself from shame

Dick is joining is cause well he feels bad about it being his idea

Now Tim is arguing too

Damian wants to feel involved and u can’t convince me other wise

Bruce is trying ti make a point about safety thats just fully derailed

Anyway Danny as Fenton is just there in the background around all the bad guys he took out before Bruce actually got there like “awkward” but the moment he tries to just tippytoe his way out Bruce turns to point at him “and don’t think you are getting out of this. Your grounded too”

He just freezes. Can batman do that? Is he legally allowed to do that? Wait what does Batman mean by grounded?!!? Whats his move here.

“Everyone in the batmobile we will discuss this more in the morning”

Oh ok thats his move. Ok yea Batman just grounded him. He better go.

So they r having the ride home and everyone is sulking and Danny is just there confused but doesn’t say anything because hes probably tired and it’s batman wtf you gonna do.

So they are at the cave and Danny finally just “so can I call my family to tell them I wont be home tonight?”

You everyone just stops. And slowly turns to face him. “Ah yea dumb question. I guess uhhh no phones huh?” No one moves. Everyone is pretty shocked. Cause one bruce kidnapped some kid. Two theres a civi in the batcave. Three bruce kidnapped some fucking kid. Four some random kid just got in the car with them. Five holy fuck bruce kidnapped some kid.

Breaks over enjoy post

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 1

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny Fenton leaned against the register at The Fun Zone, his eyes half-lidded with the bored expression of someone who had already been on shift for far too long. The arcade’s lights flickered with their usual neon brilliance, and the sound of pinball machines, whirring go-karts, and kids screaming in the indoor playground provided a steady background cacophony. It was chaos incarnate, but Danny didn’t mind. The job paid surprisingly well for a Gotham gig, and it let him afford textbooks and a halfway decent apartment.

That, of course, didn’t make up for the downsides—namely, the fact that the place was a gang front. Danny had figured it out about two days in. The suspicious packages delivered after hours, the shady clientele that frequented the private lounge, and the way his manager, “Big Sal,” always seemed to have armed goons lurking nearby. None of it really phased him. As long as he kept his head down, he didn’t see any reason to care.

But apparently, the local vigilantes did.

“Hey, kid,” a gravelly voice startled Danny out of his stupor. He looked up to see the Red Hood himself looming over the counter, his arsenal on full display. Guns, knives, and explosives hung from his tactical gear, his crimson helmet reflecting the pulsing lights of the arcade.

Danny blinked. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Can I get you a family pack for laser tag, or are you just here to threaten the boss?”

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, his helmet hiding what Danny assumed was either a glare or the equivalent of a facepalm. “You know this place is run by a gang, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny deadpanned. “And they pay me twenty bucks an hour plus tips. Do you want to buy tokens or not?”

Hood seemed taken aback, the air of intimidation slipping just a little. “Do you even care that they’re criminals?”

“As long as they don’t ask me to do crime, I’m good. Rent’s expensive, man.”

Before Hood could respond, the double doors to the bowling alley burst open, and in stormed Big Sal, flanked by his usual goons. Sal was a mountain of a man, with slicked-back hair and a perpetual sneer that seemed permanently etched into his face. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Hood.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Red Hood,” Sal growled. “You’ve been poking around my turf for weeks. You think you can just walk in here?”

Hood drew a pistol in response. “I don’t think. I act.”

The goons raised their weapons, and Sal barked out orders, but before the situation could escalate further, Danny loudly cleared his throat.

“Hey!” he said, waving a hand lazily. “Can you guys not do this in front of the register? I just mopped over here.”

Both Sal and Hood turned to stare at him.

“What?” Danny shrugged. “If there’s going to be a shootout, at least take it to the parking lot. I’m not cleaning up blood.”

Hood’s shoulders shook with what might have been a laugh, though his voice remained gruff. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“First week on the job, I had to break up a fight between two dads who got into a brawl over mini-golf,” Danny replied flatly. “This? This is Tuesday.”

Hood holstered his pistol, much to Sal’s visible annoyance. “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”

“Thanks,” Danny said. “So, if you take over this place, do I still get to keep my job?”

Sal sputtered indignantly. “You little—”

“You shut up,” Hood snapped, leveling a finger at the gang boss before turning back to Danny. “If I take over, yeah, you can keep your job. Might even give you a raise for putting up with this crap.”

“Cool,” Danny said, as though he hadn’t just witnessed a life-or-death standoff. “Want a soda while you’re here? Employee discount means I can get it for like, fifty cents.”

Hood stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m starting to think you’re the most dangerous person here.”

Danny smirked. “Nah, I’m just good at customer service.”

As Hood turned back to deal with Sal, Danny leaned against the counter again, sipping a soda he’d poured for himself.

The standoff between Red Hood and Big Sal continued, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Danny, however, remained entirely unfazed, sipping his soda and watching the drama unfold as if it were a reality TV show. His coworkers, who had been hiding behind various attractions, occasionally peeked out to catch glimpses of the action. None of them seemed inclined to intervene. Not that Danny blamed them—this was well above their pay grade.

Big Sal, realizing that Red Hood wasn’t going to back down, snarled and gestured to his goons. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine? This is my turf, Hood!”

Hood’s voice was calm but laced with menace. “Not anymore, it’s not. You’ve been running weapons and drugs through this place for months. The Fun Zone’s under new management now. So, unless you want to end up in Arkham—or worse—you’ll walk out of here while you still can.”

Sal bared his teeth, but before he could respond, one of his goons hesitated and took a step back. “Uh, boss? Maybe we should listen. It’s… it’s Red Hood.”

Sal shot the man a glare that could curdle milk. “Coward.”

Hood tilted his head toward the exit. “Smart guy. He should take you with him.”

The goon glanced nervously at Sal, then at Hood, and bolted toward the doors. A few others followed, their loyalty clearly not strong enough to stick around for what was about to happen.

Danny watched the exodus with mild amusement. “Wow, Sal. You really inspire loyalty, huh?”

“Shut up, kid!” Sal barked, his face red with anger. “You’re on thin ice.”

Danny raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. If I were you, I’d consider an employee morale retreat or something.”

Hood let out a low chuckle, his guns still trained on Sal. “You’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that.”

Danny replied with a shrug. “So, what’s the plan here, Hood? Are you shutting this place down, or do I need to update my résumé?”

Hood’s answer was interrupted by a sudden crash from the go-kart track. Everyone turned to see a group of kids who had somehow bypassed the barricades and were now gleefully racing around, oblivious to the standoff happening mere feet away.

“Seriously?” Hood muttered, lowering his weapons slightly. “This place is chaos.”

“Welcome to The Fun Zone,” Danny said with a wry smile. “Where the games never stop, even during a hostile takeover.”

Hood let out a heavy sigh, clearly debating whether this was worth his time. Finally, he holstered his weapons and gestured for Sal to leave. “You’ve got 24 hours to pack up and get out. If I see you here after that, you won’t be walking out.”

Sal opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He stormed out, slamming the doors behind him, leaving Hood, Danny, and a scattering of terrified employees behind.

Hood turned back to Danny. “You still want to work here?”

Danny shrugged. “Depends. You hiring?”

Hood stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got nerve, kid. Fine. You’re hired—you get a fat raise and fewer shady dealings. Just… try not to question too much about what happens in the backroom.”

“Cool,” Danny said, finishing his soda. “Do I get a new uniform, or do I keep the one with the mustard stains?”

Hood sighed again, rubbing his temples. “I’m already regretting this.”

Danny grinned. “Welcome to management, boss.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 4

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny had seen some chaotic birthday parties in his time at The Fun Zone, but this one took the cake—and he wasn’t even exaggerating. The group that had just walked in seemed like a random collection of mismatched personalities: a cocky black haired guy, a towering dad-type who was trying way too hard to be casual, a snarky girl in a leather jacket, a small scowling kid who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and—oh no, it was Tim again.

Danny adjusted his uniform and sighed, plastering on his best customer service smile. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Are you here for laser tag, mini-golf, or just to add to my growing migraine?”

A man with stark black hair stepped forward, grinning like he owned the place. “We’re here for a birthday party!”

Danny blinked. “You booked it in advance, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the guy said, brushing off the question with a wave. “It’s all taken care of.”

The scowling kid, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, crossed his arms. “Grayson, this is beneath me. I don’t need a childish party.”

“Oh, come on, Dami,” the guy—apparently named Grayson—said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You’re going to love it. Laser tag, mini-golf, go-karts—it’s got everything!”

Damian swatted his hand away with a growl. “I said, stop calling me that.”

The girl in the leather jacket smirked. “Yeah, but the kid here’s turning twelve. We’re here to make sure he has the time of his life, whether he likes it or not.”

Danny gave her a skeptical look. “You sure he doesn’t prefer, like, a book club or chess tournament? He looks like he’d rather set this place on fire than play mini-golf.”

“I would,” Damian said flatly.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dick said, leaning on the counter. “We’re doing this. Can you, uh, set us up with the works?”

Danny sighed, grabbing a clipboard. “Fine. I’ll need the birthday kid’s name. And don’t tell me it’s Grumpy McFrownsalot.”

Dick laughed. “It’s Damian.”

Danny jotted the name down and handed him a stack of wristbands. “Great. Have fun, don’t break anything, and if you end up in a go-kart race, try not to ram into each other. You break it, you buy it.”

Dick beamed. “Thanks, man.”

An hour in, Danny regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

Damian, the birthday kid, was terrifying. He played laser tag like he was training for actual war, and he refused to use the pre-loaded names on the scoreboard, insisting his codename be changed to Death’s Shadow. He also managed to hack into the system to change everyone else’s names to things like Grayson the Fool and Drake the Useless.

The girl—Steph, he’d heard someone call her—was running commentary on everything, laughing every time Damian destroyed someone in laser tag. “Dami’s ruthless! Look at that kill count!”

Tim, predictably, was trying to strategize, calling out team plays like this was some kind of black-ops mission. “Jason, cover the left flank! Dick, stop running in circles!”

Danny’s ears perked up at that. “Wait. Jason?” he muttered to himself, glancing over toward the go-karts.

Sure enough, Red Hood—his boss—was standing next to the track in civilian clothes, looking like he wanted to commit murder. He’d been dragged along under protest, and now he was stuck watching Dick and Tim throw Damian a party in what was technically his turf.

Danny sidled over, slapping on a grin. “Hey, boss. Didn’t know you did birthday parties.”

Jason scowled. “Don’t start with me, Fenton.”

Danny chuckled. “I mean, it’s kind of adorable. You’ve got the whole supportive older brother vibe going on.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his temples. “They’re doing this to piss me off. Dick knows this is my place.”

“Your boss’s place,” Danny corrected. To try to keep Hood's true identity safe from his supposed siblings? friends? Hell if Danny knows at this point. “And hey, the kid seems to be having fun. That’s worth something, right?”

They both glanced over to see Damian obliterating another group of kids in mini-golf, his precision terrifyingly perfect. Dick was cheering him on, and Steph was doubled over laughing at the chaos.

Jason sighed. “This is hell.”

By the end of the party, the Fun Zone looked like a war zone. Damian had won every single activity with brutal efficiency, leaving no survivors in laser tag, mini-golf, or go-karts. Dick had somehow convinced Danny to bring out the giant birthday sundae, which Damian reluctantly poked at while glaring at everyone like they’d personally insulted his honor.

As they were leaving, Dick clapped Danny on the shoulder. “Thanks for putting up with us. You’re a champ.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, yawning. “Just make sure you tip me enough to cover therapy.”

Dick laughed, handing him a suspiciously generous wad of cash. “Consider it done.”

As the door chimed shut behind them, Jason walked over, shaking his head. “If you tell anyone about this, you’re fired.”

Danny smirked. “Sure thing, boss. But you owe me hazard pay.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

This prompt was too much fun to NOT write something! So here's my go at it :D

Danny Fenton leaned against the register at The Fun Zone, his eyes half-lidded with the bored expression of someone who had already been on shift for far too long. The arcade’s lights flickered with their usual neon brilliance, and the sound of pinball machines, whirring go-karts, and kids screaming in the indoor playground provided a steady background cacophony. It was chaos incarnate, but Danny didn’t mind. The job paid surprisingly well for a Gotham gig, and it let him afford textbooks and a halfway decent apartment.

That, of course, didn’t make up for the downsides—namely, the fact that the place was a gang front. Danny had figured it out about two days in. The suspicious packages delivered after hours, the shady clientele that frequented the private lounge, and the way his manager, “Big Sal,” always seemed to have armed goons lurking nearby. None of it really phased him. As long as he kept his head down, he didn’t see any reason to care.

But apparently, the local vigilantes did.

“Hey, kid,” a gravelly voice startled Danny out of his stupor. He looked up to see the Red Hood himself looming over the counter, his arsenal on full display. Guns, knives, and explosives hung from his tactical gear, his crimson helmet reflecting the pulsing lights of the arcade.

Danny blinked. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Can I get you a family pack for laser tag, or are you just here to threaten the boss?”

Red Hood’s head tilted slightly, his helmet hiding what Danny assumed was either a glare or the equivalent of a facepalm. “You know this place is run by a gang, right?”

“Yeah,” Danny deadpanned. “And they pay me twenty bucks an hour plus tips. Do you want to buy tokens or not?”

Hood seemed taken aback, the air of intimidation slipping just a little. “Do you even care that they’re criminals?”

“As long as they don’t ask me to do crime, I’m good. Rent’s expensive, man.”

Before Hood could respond, the double doors to the bowling alley burst open, and in stormed Big Sal, flanked by his usual goons. Sal was a mountain of a man, with slicked-back hair and a perpetual sneer that seemed permanently etched into his face. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Hood.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Red Hood,” Sal growled. “You’ve been poking around my turf for weeks. You think you can just walk in here?”

Hood drew a pistol in response. “I don’t think. I act.”

The goons raised their weapons, and Sal barked out orders, but before the situation could escalate further, Danny loudly cleared his throat.

“Hey!” he said, waving a hand lazily. “Can you guys not do this in front of the register? I just mopped over here.”

Both Sal and Hood turned to stare at him.

“What?” Danny shrugged. “If there’s going to be a shootout, at least take it to the parking lot. I’m not cleaning up blood.”

Hood’s shoulders shook with what might have been a laugh, though his voice remained gruff. “You’re way too calm about this.”

“First week on the job, I had to break up a fight between two dads who got into a brawl over mini-golf,” Danny replied flatly. “This? This is Tuesday.”

Hood holstered his pistol, much to Sal’s visible annoyance. “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”

“Thanks,” Danny said. “So, if you take over this place, do I still get to keep my job?”

Sal sputtered indignantly. “You little—”

“You shut up,” Hood snapped, leveling a finger at the gang boss before turning back to Danny. “If I take over, yeah, you can keep your job. Might even give you a raise for putting up with this crap.”

“Cool,” Danny said, as though he hadn’t just witnessed a life-or-death standoff. “Want a soda while you’re here? Employee discount means I can get it for like, fifty cents.”

Hood stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m starting to think you’re the most dangerous person here.”

Danny smirked. “Nah, I’m just good at customer service.”

As Hood turned back to deal with Sal, Danny leaned against the counter again, sipping a soda he’d poured for himself. 

The standoff between Red Hood and Big Sal continued, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Danny, however, remained entirely unfazed, sipping his soda and watching the drama unfold as if it were a reality TV show. His coworkers, who had been hiding behind various attractions, occasionally peeked out to catch glimpses of the action. None of them seemed inclined to intervene. Not that Danny blamed them—this was well above their pay grade.

Big Sal, realizing that Red Hood wasn’t going to back down, snarled and gestured to his goons. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine? This is my turf, Hood!”

Hood’s voice was calm but laced with menace. “Not anymore, it’s not. You’ve been running weapons and drugs through this place for months. The Fun Zone’s under new management now. So, unless you want to end up in Arkham—or worse—you’ll walk out of here while you still can.”

Sal bared his teeth, but before he could respond, one of his goons hesitated and took a step back. “Uh, boss? Maybe we should listen. It’s… it’s Red Hood.”

Sal shot the man a glare that could curdle milk. “Coward.”

Hood tilted his head toward the exit. “Smart guy. He should take you with him.”

The goon glanced nervously at Sal, then at Hood, and bolted toward the doors. A few others followed, their loyalty clearly not strong enough to stick around for what was about to happen.

Danny watched the exodus with mild amusement. “Wow, Sal. You really inspire loyalty, huh?”

“Shut up, kid!” Sal barked, his face red with anger. “You’re on thin ice.”

Danny raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. If I were you, I’d consider an employee morale retreat or something.”

Hood let out a low chuckle, his guns still trained on Sal. “You’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that.”

Danny replied with a shrug. “So, what’s the plan here, Hood? Are you shutting this place down, or do I need to update my résumé?”

Hood’s answer was interrupted by a sudden crash from the go-kart track. Everyone turned to see a group of kids who had somehow bypassed the barricades and were now gleefully racing around, oblivious to the standoff happening mere feet away.

“Seriously?” Hood muttered, lowering his weapons slightly. “This place is chaos.”

“Welcome to The Fun Zone,” Danny said with a wry smile. “Where the games never stop, even during a hostile takeover.”

Hood let out a heavy sigh, clearly debating whether this was worth his time. Finally, he holstered his weapons and gestured for Sal to leave. “You’ve got 24 hours to pack up and get out. If I see you here after that, you won’t be walking out.”

Sal opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. He stormed out, slamming the doors behind him, leaving Hood, Danny, and a scattering of terrified employees behind.

Hood turned back to Danny. “You still want to work here?”

Danny shrugged. “Depends. You hiring?”

Hood stared at him for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got nerve, kid. Fine. You’re hired—you get a fat raise and fewer shady dealings. Just… try not to question too much about what happens in the backroom.”

“Cool,” Danny said, finishing his soda. “Do I get a new uniform, or do I keep the one with the mustard stains?”

Hood sighed again, rubbing his temples. “I’m already regretting this.”

Danny grinned. “Welcome to management, boss.”

DcxDp

Danny gets a part time job at a small arcade, lazer tag arena, bowling alley, mini golf course, indoor playground, and go kart track called The Fun Zone, the place is a front for a gang and he knows it, he doesn't care though the place pays him really well which is awesome for a broke college student now if only the Gotham vigilantes would leave him alone and stop trying to question him, The Fun Zone by coincidence happens to be on the very edge of Hood's territory so when he comes in one afternoon armed to the teeth and ready to shut the gang down, Danny just stares at him from behind a register and asks "If you take over do I keep my job?"

Jason: …. Sorry, what?

Danny: Can I keep my job?

Jason: …. You’re not working for the mafia?

Danny: I mean like, they pay me livable wages, but probably not. So can I still get paid?

Jason: *looking at his goons in confusion* uh. Sure.

Danny: Sweet. I think they keep the record books in the back, underneath the game sets.

Jason:

Goons:

Danny:

Jason: Uh. Thanks?

Danny: Np, boss :)

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 3

You can find previous chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

It was another day at The Fun Zone, and Danny was manning the counter like always, half-heartedly sorting through a stack of tokens while sipping on an overly sweet slushy. Business was steady enough to keep him on his feet, but not so busy that he couldn’t hear the unmistakable chime of the front door opening.

Danny didn’t look up right away. “Welcome to The Fun Zone,” he called out in his default bored tone. “Mini-golf is on special today. Please don’t fight over the clown hole.”

“Actually, I’m more interested in laser tag,” came a voice that was far too chipper for Gotham. Danny glanced up to see a young man with a camera slung around his neck and a backpack that looked too functional to just carry snacks. His black hair stuck out at odd angles, and his smile radiated the kind of curiosity that immediately put Danny on edge.

“Sure thing,” Danny said cautiously, taking in the guy’s face. He wasn’t exactly memorable, but he had the same intense energy as a kid trying to win all the prizes at once. “Laser tag’s fifteen bucks for unlimited rounds. You here alone?”

“Yup.” The guy smiled wider. “I like to… scout out fun places for my blog. Gotham doesn’t have many safe places for kids, you know?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “A blog? About arcades?”

“And family fun centers,” the guy corrected, his voice practically oozing innocence. “Places like this are important. Keeps kids off the streets, you know?”

Danny wasn’t buying it for a second. No one with that much pep belonged in Gotham. “Cool. Name?”

“Uh…” The guy hesitated.

"It's for the ticket." Danny replied

“Tim.” The boy smiled sheepishly

“Tim,” Danny repeated, staring at him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, Tim. Here’s your gear.”

Danny handed over a laser tag vest and a blaster, noting the subtle tension in Tim’s posture, like he was expecting something to jump out at him. “Laser tag arena’s through the back. Don’t break anything.”

Tim nodded and wandered off, though not without a suspicious glance at the prize counter as if he were cataloging the stuffed animals for some secret database. Danny watched him go, his unease growing.

About ten minutes later, the chime of the office door opening caught Danny’s attention. Red Hood poked his head out “Hey, where’s that slush—”

Hood stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes toward the laser tag entrance. “God damnit-Stay here. Don’t let him leave until I get back.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Danny said, watching as Hood stalked off toward the laser tag arena like a man on a mission.

Fifteen minutes later, Danny was back at the counter when Tim returned, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unbothered. He placed the laser tag gear on the counter and smiled. “That was fun. You’ve got a good setup here.”

Danny crossed his arms. “You meet my boss in there?”

Tim’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, you mean the guy who thinks laser tag is a viable interrogation method? Yeah, we had a nice chat.”

“Sure you did,” Danny said dryly, grabbing a disinfectant wipe to clean the gear. “So, what’s the deal? You guys just take turns harassing me, or is this some kind of weird Gotham hazing ritual?”

Tim tilted his head, genuinely curious. “You seem pretty unfazed by all this. Not many people can handle Red Hood breathing down their neck without sweating.”

Danny smirked. “I’ve had worse bosses.”

“Fair enough,” Tim said, pulling a notepad out of his pocket and jotting something down. “By the way, do you guys host birthday parties?”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly chaos and kids screaming for tokens,” Danny replied. “Not sure it’s blog-worthy.”

Tim grinned, slipping the notepad back into his pocket. “Oh, I think this place is definitely worth writing about.”

As Tim walked out the door, Danny sighed, already bracing himself for whatever nonsense tomorrow would bring. Hood emerged from the laser tag arena a moment later, looking equal parts annoyed and suspicious.

“He leave?” Hood asked.

“Yup,” Danny replied. “Said he’s writing about us.”

“Great,” Hood muttered. “Now we’re gonna end up on Bat's watchlist.”

Danny couldn’t suppress his grin. “We weren’t already?”

Hood shot him a glare. “Shut up and mop the arcade.”

Danny gave a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain Hood.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 8

Find the other chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

It was a quiet evening at The Fun Zone—well, as quiet as it could be with the usual hum of arcade machines and the distant sound of kids screaming in delight from the go-kart track. Danny leaned on the counter, spinning a token on the surface, when the door chimed, announcing a new visitor.

The boy who walked in couldn’t have been older than twelve, but he carried himself like he owned the place. His sharp green eyes swept the room with a suspicious intensity, and his perfectly pressed jacket screamed “trying too hard to blend in.”

Danny smirked, instantly recognizing the kid. Oh, great. It’s Bat Brat.

Damian Wayne had arrived, and judging by the way he was eyeballing everything, he was clearly here on some sort of "mission." Danny straightened up, ready to play along.

“Welcome to The Fun Zone!” Danny said, his voice overly cheerful. “Here to play some games, or are you here for the ambiance?”

Damian's eyes narrowed. “I’m… here to observe the clientele's opinions on this facility.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Observe? What are you, a critic? Because I gotta warn you, the hot dogs are a solid ‘meh.’”

Damian’s jaw tightened. “I’m just… curious about how this place operates and customer satisfaction.”

Danny leaned on the counter, his grin widening. “You mean you’re curious about me, right? It’s okay, kid. I get it. I’m fascinating.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Danny chuckled, handing him a token. “Sure you don’t. Here—play a game or two. Maybe it’ll help you loosen up.”

For the next hour, Damian stalked around the arcade, pretending to be subtle as he scribbled notes in a little notebook. Danny watched him from the counter, stifling laughter at the kid’s terrible undercover skills. Damian was so obvious it was almost cute.

Danny decided to crank up the suspicion meter just for fun. Whenever Damian glanced his way, Danny made a point of talking into his phone in hushed tones or pretending to scribble mysterious equations on a napkin. Once, he even opened the claw machine with a key, whispered “the package is secure,” and closed it again, leaving Damian glaring at him from behind a pinball machine.

Meanwhile, in the back office, Jason was reviewing security footage when he noticed Damian’s very obvious surveillance tactics. He groaned, muttering, “What the hell is that little gremlin up to now?”

Pulling on his helmet, Jason stepped out of the office and made his way to the counter, where Danny was now stacking cups for no apparent reason.

“Fenton,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “Why is there a tiny detective casing the place?”

Danny grinned, keeping his voice low. “Oh, you mean that brat? Yeah, he’s been watching me all night. Probably thinks I’m running some secret black-market arcade empire.”

Jason sighed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Danny said, stacking another cup. “He’s so easy to mess with.”

Jason smirked under his helmet. “Let’s see how far we can take this.”

A few minutes later, Jason stormed up to the counter, his voice loud enough to echo across the arcade. “Fenton! Back office. Now.”

Danny plastered on a confused expression. “Uh, is this about the claw machine incident? Because I can explain—”

“Now!” Jason barked, grabbing Danny by the arm and dragging him toward the office.

Damian, who had been pretending to play air hockey, froze mid-swipe. His eyes narrowed as he watched the two disappear behind the office door.

Inside the office, Danny collapsed into a chair, laughing quietly. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Jason closed the door, leaning against it. “Let’s give him a show.”

Outside, Damian crept closer to the office, straining to hear the conversation. What he heard made his stomach twist.

“I told you to keep it low-key!” Jason’s voice growled. “Do you want the entire operation exposed?”

Danny’s voice followed, trembling with mock fear. “I didn’t mean to! It’s not my fault the kid is snooping around! What was I supposed to do—ignore him?”

“You were supposed to act normal,” Jason snapped. “Now he’s suspicious. Do you know what happens if he reports this?”

“I’ll be careful!” Danny pleaded. “I swear, I didn’t say anything about the shipments!”

Damian’s heart raced. Shipments? He pressed his ear closer, desperate to catch more.

Jason’s voice dropped dangerously low. “If you screw this up, you’re done. Got it?”

Danny’s reply was barely audible. “Got it.”

Jason flung the door open, and Damian stumbled back, trying to act casual. Jason glared at him through his helmet. “Kid. Why are you loitering?”

Damian crossed his arms, his mask of composure snapping back into place. “I was just wondering why you dragged your employee into the back for a ‘chat.’ Something to hide?”

Jason snorted. “None of your business. Shouldn’t you be playing laser tag or something?”

“I don’t play games,” Damian said coldly.

Jason leaned closer, his voice dripping with menace. “Then maybe you shouldn’t hang around places like this.”

Damian bristled but didn’t back down. Jason held his glare for a moment longer before walking away, muttering, “Demon kids.”

As soon as Jason was out of earshot, Danny popped his head out of the office, grinning. “Hey, kid. You okay? You look pale.”

Damian glared at him. “I’ll figure out what you’re hiding. Mark my words.”

Danny winked. “Looking forward to it.”

Damian stormed off, muttering something in Arabic that Danny couldn’t quite catch. Jason returned to the counter, watching Damian’s retreating form.

“You think he bought it?” Jason asked.

Danny grinned. “Oh, definitely. That kid’s gonna be tailing me for weeks.”

Jason chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, grabbing a mop. “But I’m your idiot.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 5

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny was midway through cleaning up the aftermath of another chaotic birthday party when the arcade's doors burst open with a loud bang. He looked up from the counter, frowning at the sound of heavy boots on the tile floor.

And there they were. Gotham’s infamous crime clown duo: the Joker, grinning ear to ear, and Harley Quinn, twirling her oversized mallet like it was a baton. The noise of the arcade seemed to dim as they strolled in, the chaotic energy in the room shifting instantly.

Danny sighed, setting down his mop. “Welcome to The Fun Zone. Do you guys need tokens, or are we skipping straight to the part where you try to destroy the place?”

Joker cackled, the sound grating enough to set Danny’s teeth on edge. “Oh, I like this one, Harley! Look at him—calm, cool, and snarky. You’ve got spunk, kid.”

Harley leaned on her mallet, chewing gum noisily. “You’re real cute, too. Shame we’re gonna have to wreck this joint.”

Danny didn’t flinch. “You’re going to wreck the Fun Zone? Really? That’s like kicking a puppy for fun. You’re already hated; do you really need to go lower?”

Joker’s grin widened impossibly. “Oh, but that’s the fun part! I’ve heard this place is under new management, and I just couldn’t resist. Red Hood’s little side hustle? How could I not come check it out?”

Danny casually leaned against the counter. “Right. So this is about Hood. Figures.”

Joker tilted his head, his voice dropping to an ominous tone. “Careful, kid. You’ve got some sass, but you don’t want to push my buttons.”

“Oh no,” Danny deadpanned, pretending to tremble. “The big scary clown is threatening me.”

Joker’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he reached into his coat, pulling out what looked like a grenade. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But you’re about to see how far those guts go when I—”

Before he could finish, Danny flicked his wrist imperceptibly, sending a subtle pulse of ghost energy toward the grenade. It glowed faintly green before the pin mysteriously shot back into place, the safety mechanism re-engaging.

Joker blinked, staring at the grenade. “Huh. That’s weird.”

“Guess you need to check your equipment,” Danny said, his voice dry as he tapped the counter. “Might be time for an upgrade.”

Harley narrowed her eyes. “Something ain’t right here, Puddin’.”

Danny leaned in, smirking. “What gave it away? The fact that your little party favor didn’t work, or the part where I’m still standing here, not caring?”

Joker’s grin returned, though it was a little tighter now. “You’re a bold one, kid. Let’s see how you handle a real show.”

With a snap of his fingers, Harley vaulted over the counter, swinging her mallet. Danny ducked effortlessly, letting the weapon smash into a row of plastic cups instead of his head.

“Careful!” Danny called, his tone playful. “You break it, you buy it!”

Harley growled, swinging again. This time, Danny stepped back and discreetly used his ghost powers to phase through the wall behind him, disappearing from sight.

“What the—?” Harley whipped around, searching for him. “Where’d he go?!”

Danny reappeared on the other side of the counter, acting as if nothing had happened. “Over here. You might wanna get your eyes checked, lady.”

Joker’s gaze sharpened. “How’d you do that?”

Danny shrugged. “Trade secret. You gonna buy some tokens, or are we still pretending you’re scary?”

Joker’s smile twisted into something more sinister. “Oh, I’m scary, all right. Harley, smash him.”

Harley lunged again, but this time Danny subtly summoned a small burst of ectoplasmic energy, sending a stack of bowling balls rolling directly into her path. She tripped with a loud thud, her mallet clattering to the floor.

“Oops,” Danny said, his voice oozing fake innocence. “Must’ve been gravity.”

Joker snarled, pulling a gun from his coat. “That’s it! No more games!”

Before he could fire, the lights in the arcade flickered, a faint green glow radiating from the fixtures. The temperature dropped, and an eerie mist began to creep along the floor. Danny, standing perfectly still, allowed just a fraction of his ghostly aura to seep out, his eyes glowing faintly green as he stared them down.

Joker hesitated, clearly unnerved. “What… what is this?”

Danny smiled coldly. “This? This is the part where you leave.”

Harley scrambled to her feet, grabbing Joker’s arm. “Uh, Puddin’? Maybe we should bounce.”

“But—” Joker started, only to glance around at the flickering lights and green glow. He scowled, pocketing his gun. “Fine. This place is lame anyway. Let’s go.”

As they retreated, Joker turned back, his grin returning. “You’re lucky, kid. But next time…”

“Next time,” Danny interrupted, his voice low and echoing faintly, “you’ll wish you stayed away.”

Joker’s grin faltered again, and he quickly shuffled out the door with Harley in tow.

When they were gone, Danny let out a breath, allowing the lights to stabilize and the temperature to return to normal. He glanced around at the few stunned patrons who had been hiding behind arcade machines.

“Attention, everyone!” Danny called, his usual cheerful tone back. “The Fun Zone is now clown-free. Mini-golf is still half-price. Enjoy!”

He grabbed his mop and went back to work, grinning to himself.

[ghostlyglimmer]

Had to write something based on this, OP, your idea was so much fun to play with!

Ok guys consider this: DP fic where Danny and Wes run away together

Make no mistake, they still absolutely HATE each other. Wes has been trying to expose Danny’s identity since the beginning, and that hasn’t changed a bit since the GiW appeared.

Now, though, it makes a little bit more sense to Danny.

Wes is at his window, panting and shaking, and he is bleeding. The GiW, he explains, had been harassing him since the beginning. An hour ago, they got the warrant needed to take him into custody, and they went after him immediately. To add to that, they got the papers to go after one other person as well. Danny.

So now, they’re on the world’s worst road trip to Florida or Alaska or some other, equally far away state because Wes has an uncle there who he knows has a deep enough grudge against the government that he won’t sell them out for anything.

They hate each other, and desperately wish they could ditch each other, but Danny’s the only one who can actually keep their rustbucket bike (originally Wes’ brother’s, gifted to him after it started breaking down) working without dropping at least 2 grand on repairs, and Wes is the only one with a driver’s license.

Danny’s honestly surprised that Wes didn’t just sell him out. Wes told him that, quite frankly, he probably would have, had the GiW not attacked him as viciously as they did. He still hated Danny, of course, but he couldn’t live with himself if he just…left someone to get tortured like that.

Danny snaps that he knew the GiW would do that since the beginning, and if Wes had just listened to him—

In truth, he’s surprisingly touched. He’s never gonna tell Wes that, but still.

Basically just roadtrip of hell where Danny and Wes slowly get closer and start to understand each other, while simultaneously Jazz and Sam are working together to politically destroy the GiW, Tucker is running digital interference as much as possible (Danny, please stop showing your full face in front of security cameras, are you trying to give him a seizure), and the parents Fenton are beginning to think that they might’ve, just maybe, made a slight mistake in their understanding of Phantom.

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 7

You can find more chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

Danny was pretty sure this job was going to be the death of him—not because of the usual chaos, but because he was now wearing a giant, fluorescent green dog mascot costume. His coworker, Kenny, who usually handled mascot duties for the birthday parties, had called out sick, leaving Danny to reluctantly pick up the slack.

“It’s just for a few hours,” Jason had said, smirking as Danny reluctantly pulled on the oversized costume. “And hey, maybe it’ll teach you some humility.”

Danny had glared at him through the oversized eyeholes. “If I trip and break my neck, you’re paying my medical bills.”

Jason shrugged. “Don’t trip, then.”

Now, Danny was waddling around the arcade, high-fiving kids with the floppy dog paws and trying not to pass out in the sauna-like suit.

“Best. Job. Ever,” Danny muttered under his breath as a gaggle of kids tugged on his tail.

It was during one such tail-tugging session that the doors to The Fun Zone burst open with a loud bang. Danny turned toward the noise, his oversized head wobbling precariously, to see a man striding in with an air of menace. The villain was decked out in a patchwork of metallic armor and wielding a high-tech laser gun.

“Alright, everyone!” the man bellowed. “This is a robbery! Hand over your wallets, your jewelry, and all your tokens!”

Danny sighed, shaking his giant dog head. Of course. Of course this would happen while I’m dressed in a glorified fursuit.

The parents and kids screamed, scattering like bowling pins. From behind the counter, one of Danny’s coworkers hit the silent alarm to alert Jason, who was in the back office. But Danny didn’t have time to wait.

The villain, apparently pleased with the chaos, aimed his laser gun at the prize counter. “Nobody move, or the claw machine gets it!”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Not on my watch, tin man.”

The villain turned, clearly not expecting the giant dog mascot to step forward. “What the—?”

Danny didn’t give him a chance to finish. He lunged forward with surprising speed, tackling the man to the ground. The villain’s laser gun clattered to the floor, and Danny started wailing on him with his oversized paws.

“What the hell is happening?” the villain shouted, trying to fend off the flurry of punches.

“Bad dog!” Danny growled, punctuating each word with a swing. “Don’t mess with The Fun Zone!”

Meanwhile, in the back office, Jason’s security monitors lit up with the scene of a green dog mascot absolutely demolishing the armored villain in the middle of the arcade. Jason froze for a moment, trying to process what he was seeing. Then, with a muttered curse, he grabbed his helmet and weapons, bolting toward the front.

By the time Jason arrived, the villain was barely conscious, his armor dented and scratched from the mascot’s relentless assault. Danny was standing over him, panting slightly as he adjusted the dog head that had started to slip to one side. "Guess his bark is worse than his bite." Danny panted.

Jason stared, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement under his hood. “Fenton, what the hell are you doing?”

Danny turned, his giant dog head bobbing awkwardly. “What does it look like? I’m protecting company assets.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the groaning villain on the floor. “You’re beating a guy half to death in a dog costume.”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, crossing his floppy arms. “He was threatening the claw machine. Nobody threatens the claw machine.”

Jason blinked, then burst out laughing, the sound muffled but unmistakable. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re welcome,” Danny said, his voice muffled by the dog head. “Now, can you call the cops or something? This suit smells like sweat and regret, and I’d like to take it off before I suffocate.”

Jason shook his head, still chuckling as he cuffed the villain and hauled him to his feet. “Sure thing, Fenton. But I’m never letting you live this down.”

Danny groaned, waddling back toward the staff room to peel off the costume. “This job gets dumber every day.”

As the villain was dragged away, one of the kids who had been hiding behind the arcade machines piped up. “That was awesome! The dog is a superhero!”

Danny sighed from the breakroom. “I hate this city.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

Frat Party Fight

Ao3 Link

Summary:

Danny Fenton finally moved away to college and gets dragged to a Halloween frat party by his new classmates.

The pounding bass of the frat party throbbed through the old house, lights flashing in rhythm with the music, and people spilling out of every corner, drinks in hand, laughing and chatting. Danny Fenton hovered on the outskirts of the chaos, sipping from a plastic cup filled with something way too sweet. His friends from one of his college courses had invited him to the Halloween rager, and while this wasn't really his scene, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to socialize a little.

Living here was different from Amity Park—a little quieter, a little more distant from the constant threat of ghost attacks. But ghosts weren't ever completely absent from Danny’s life. It was supposed to be a chance to start over, but tonight, that familiar sense of dread tingled at the back of his neck.

"Yo, Danny!" One of his new friends, Kevin, staggered over, grinning wide with glazed eyes. "Check this out!" He pointed toward the center of the living room, where a group of drunk students had gathered in a circle. One of them had a worn-out book in his hands, and the others were crowded around a Ouija board, laughing.

Danny froze, his heart lurching. He squinted at the book. That looks way too familiar.

As he edged closer, he overheard snippets of conversation.

"Got this at a thrift store, man. Bet we can summon something cool!"

"Yeah, maybe Phantom will show up!" someone joked, sending the circle into a fit of giggles.

But Danny wasn’t laughing. His eyes locked on the book—the cover scrawled with symbols that made his chest tighten. It wasn’t just some cheap knockoff occult book. He knew it. His core twisted, recognizing the ghostly energy radiating from it.

"Guys," Danny interrupted, his voice cracking over the music, but no one seemed to notice. "Guys, seriously, stop."

Kevin turned back to him, laughing. "Chill, man! It’s just for fun!"

"No, you don't understand." Danny's voice sharpened, urgency cutting through. He made his way toward the center of the room, his heart hammering faster with every step. “That book—it’s not some joke. It’s real.”

The laughter died down. One by one, heads turned, and the room went unnervingly quiet. People were staring now, watching as Danny stormed forward, reaching for the book.

"Come on, man," the guy holding it—Tom—slurred, pulling the book away from Danny. "We’re just trying to have some fun." His eyes glinted mischievously as he continued to read from the page. "In fact... why don’t we finish the incantation?"

Danny lunged. "No! Don’t—"

But it was too late.

Tom slurred the last syllable, grinning as he spoke the final word. The air in the room shifted, a cold wind sweeping through despite the closed windows. The ground under their feet vibrated, and Danny felt it—the pull. His breath hitched, and the world tilted as the green portal swirled open beneath him.

He didn’t even have time to yell as the portal yanked him in, his body twisting in midair as the students screamed. The last thing he saw was the terrified, wide-eyed stares of his friends, frozen in place as he disappeared.

The party plunged into chaos. People scrambled back, knocking over cups and furniture, some trying to run for the door. But as soon as they moved, glowing green runes ignited on the floor in a perfect circle, trapping them inside.

Out of the center of the runes, something began to crawl.

The Ghost King emerged from the runed portal. His massive, clawed hands gripped the edge of the floor as he pulled himself up, his sharp fangs visible even in the flickering party lights. His eyes blazed an otherworldly green, and his form was much larger and more monstrous than any of them could have imagined.

Everyone went still.

Danny—or the thing they once knew as Danny—stood before them, a hulking figure that barely resembled the boy who had just been at the party. His glowing eyes swept over the room, fangs bared, claws flexing.

The silence was suffocating.

Danny took a step forward, awkwardly. “Uh… okay, listen,” his deep voice rumbled, somehow both terrifying and familiar. “I know this looks bad, but—”

Someone screamed.

“Please, stop!” Danny raised his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture, but the sharp claws didn’t help. “It’s just me! It’s still me! I'm not gonna hurt you!”

His new friends stood motionless, their faces pale. Kevin’s mouth hung open, eyes darting between Danny and the ghostly runes on the floor.

“Just... just stop screaming and let me explain,” Danny tried again, his voice strained. "That book—it summoned the Ghost King. Which is, uh, me. But I’m not here to hurt anyone, I swear!"

Tom, still clutching the summoning book, stared in utter shock, backing up slowly. “D-Danny?” he croaked.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Danny gestured to himself, forcing a smile that only made him look more terrifying. "Surprise?" he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The crowd didn’t seem convinced.

“Oh, this is bad,” Danny muttered to himself. He glanced around, looking for anything that could help de-escalate the situation. “Okay, how about we just… calm down, yeah? I’ll get rid of the runes, and no one gets hurt. Sound good?”

No one moved.

Danny exhaled a heavy, ectoplasmic sigh and slowly bent down to trace a glowing claw along the runes. One by one, the symbols faded from the floor, their ghostly energy dispersing. The room seemed to relax slightly, but the tension still hung thick in the air.

When the last rune disappeared, Danny stood up, dusting off his claws awkwardly. “See? All good. So... how about we, uh, pretend this never happened?”

The partygoers blinked at him, still frozen in stunned silence.

Danny winced. "Or, uh, I could leave and… you know, never come back?"

Kevin finally found his voice. “Dude, you’re the Ghost King?”

Danny grimaced. “Yeah, about that… Long story.”

The room remained quiet for a beat longer before one of the other students, clearly still shaken, stammered, “Cool...?”

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Cool.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

Edge of Control Chapter 1: A New Start

Summary:

25 year old Danny Fenton tries to live a normal life, he works at a rundown convenience store, all while suppressing his ghostly powers. But when a predatory customer constantly harasses his fellow coworker, something starts to crack.

Notes:

TW: Sexual Harassment & Assault Based on a prompt from @Regonold

Danny Fenton stood at the register of the cornerstore convenience shop, eyes scanning the dingy street outside. A pair of flickering fluorescent lights buzzed above him, casting a pale, sickly glow over the shelves lined with snacks, cigarettes, and cheap canned goods. The neon "Open" sign blinked weakly in the window, like it was struggling to stay awake.

It was well past midnight, and the streets were quiet. For now. In this neighborhood, the calm never lasted long, especially once the bars let out and the real characters started crawling from the shadows. But Danny didn’t mind the late hours. In fact, he liked the stillness—the normality of it all.

The bell above the door jingled, and Danny looked up to see Tracy walking in. She was wearing her usual oversized hoodie, hood up despite the warm night. She gave him a tired smile as she approached the counter.

"Hey, Danny," she greeted, dropping her bag behind the counter. "Quiet tonight?"

"Quiet for now," Danny replied, leaning his elbows on the counter. "But it's only a matter of time."

Tracy nodded, sliding in next to him at the register. She was only seventeen, a high schooler trying to save up some money before graduation, but she had that kind of wary, streetwise attitude that came from growing up around the wrong kind of people. She'd been working at the cornerstore for a couple of months, starting not long after Danny did, and though she didn’t say much about her life, Danny knew enough from the way she carried herself to understand she had her reasons for keeping her head down.

In some ways, she reminded him of himself. They were both just trying to survive, trying to blend in and stay under the radar. Except Danny had a lot more to hide than just a rough home life.

He hadn’t used his powers in weeks, which was a personal record. After years of ghost-fighting, he’d finally managed to escape Amity Park—escape the never-ending cycle of being a hero, being a target. Here, in this nameless city with its dirty streets and forgotten corners, he was just another face in the crowd.

It felt good. Normal. Like he could breathe.

"Anything weird happen earlier?" Tracy asked, flipping through the worn inventory clipboard, though Danny doubted she was actually paying attention to it.

"Just the usual," Danny shrugged. "That guy who always tries to steal candy bars came in. I scared him off."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Scared him off? Did you glare at him real hard or something?"

"Something like that," Danny said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He hadn't used any ghostly abilities, but a hard look and a bit of quiet menace were enough to keep most people at bay. He was good at blending in, but he was also good at not being messed with. A skill he'd perfected over the years.

Tracy chuckled, tossing the clipboard aside. "You’re like a bouncer in a convenience store. Bet they don't pay you enough for that."

"Not even close."

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence. Outside, the streetlights flickered, casting long shadows on the cracked sidewalk. Danny watched them with half an eye, his mind wandering. He liked the rhythm of the job. The simplicity. Sure, the neighborhood was rough, and the clientele could be unpredictable, but it was manageable. It was... human.

No ghosts. No paranormal disasters to deal with. No one trying to hunt him down. Just the mundane, gritty reality of a life that didn’t demand anything more than showing up and keeping the shelves stocked.

It was peaceful. For the first time in what felt like forever, Danny wasn’t running. He wasn’t fighting.

Of course, there were still slip-ups. A couple of weeks ago, he’d caught himself reflexively phasing through the stockroom door to grab something. Luckily, no one had seen him. And once or twice, when the lights flickered, he’d instinctively thought it was ghost-related, his heart hammering with that old adrenaline rush. But nothing ever came of it. No threats. No ghosts. Just faulty wiring in an old building.

“Hey, Danny,” Tracy said, pulling him out of his thoughts. She was leaning against the counter now, looking a little more serious. “Why’d you take this job? You’re, like… way too old to be working here.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Too old?”

“You know what I mean. You don’t seem like someone who’d be stuck in this place. Most of the guys your age are off doing, I dunno, real jobs.”

For a moment, Danny wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d come here to disappear, to live a life no one questioned. But here was Tracy, questioning it. He could come up with a hundred lies, but somehow, he didn’t want to lie to her. She’d seen enough BS in her life already.

“I needed a change of pace,” Danny said eventually, keeping it vague. “Something... simple.”

Tracy nodded slowly, like she understood. She didn’t push him for more, which Danny appreciated. She had her own secrets, too.

The bell above the door jingled again, pulling their attention. A group of guys in their early twenties shuffled in, already drunk and rowdy. Danny tensed, his senses going on high alert. Tracy gave him a look, already clocking them as trouble. They were loud, obnoxious, and definitely not here for snacks.

"Great," Tracy muttered under her breath.

Danny straightened up, his easygoing demeanor shifting into something more watchful. His heart rate picked up, and a familiar, cold edge settled into his gut—the instinct that something bad was about to happen. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t use his powers, wouldn’t let his ghost side out. But there were times like these, when the predator in him stirred, that it was hard to keep that promise.

He just had to hope that tonight, he wouldn’t have to.

[ghostlyglimmer]

Ectoberweek Day 31: He thought he'd been prepared to take off the mask on the hazmat suit and see what he looked like underneath. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Summary:

He thought he'd been prepared to take off the mask on the hazmat suit and see what he looked like underneath. He couldn't have been more wrong. The portal messed him up more than he thought.

Notes:

Finally finished Ectoberhaunt/Ectoberweek! I am SO PROUD OF MYSELF! This is the first time I've ever done an october/danny phantom event and I did EVERY DAY! A huge feat for me aaaaaa ;0;

Danny stood in front of the mirror, his fingers trembling as they hovered over the fasteners of his hazmat suit. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm unnatural, more of a low thrum than a proper beat. He had convinced himself that he was ready for this, that after weeks of sleepless nights, of nightmares and flashes of what had happened in the portal, he could finally face the truth.

Just a glance, he told himself. A brief peek to confirm that he was still himself under all of this — under the glowing eyes, the strange strength, and the eerie stillness of his pulse. It was just a precautionary suit, after all, something to contain his energy when he fought ghosts. At least, that’s what he had convinced himself it was. But now, as his fingers slowly undid the clasp, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible awaited him beneath.

The latch clicked open, and Danny felt his breath hitch in his throat. He wasn’t breathing, not really — not since the accident. He was pretending to breathe. The reality of that settled in the pit of his stomach, cold and unyielding, like a stone lodged where his warmth should be.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Danny peeled the suit away from his body. His eyes, glowing a harsh ectoplasmic green, locked onto the mirror.

At first, he saw that he had unusual pale skin, the white hair that had replaced his once-dark locks, and the faint glow that always seemed to cling to him in his ghost form. But as the suit fell away completely, his reflection twisted. Shifted.

His skin… no, it wasn’t skin anymore.

Danny’s breath—or the shallow imitation of it—caught in his throat. His face, his chest, his arms, his entire body, charred and burned, was revealed. Blackened skin, cracked and mottled like the surface of scorched earth, stretched over his bones. Green ectoplasm pulsed through the cracks, like veins of molten fire running just beneath his surface. His fingers twitched, and the motion caused flakes of charred flesh to crumble from his hands, only to be replaced by more seeping ectoplasm.

Oh God.

His eyes widened, horror seizing him as he stumbled back, hitting the bathroom wall. His reflection followed, the sickening reality of what he’d become staring back at him. This wasn’t just a ghost form. This wasn’t just some new transformation.

This was him — his real body.

“What… what the hell…” Danny whispered, though his voice cracked, barely audible. He reached a shaking hand toward his face, his fingers brushing against the charred remains of his cheek. The sensation was numb, like touching something distant, not really his own skin. His heart, that dull thrumming echo of a heartbeat, sped up, each pulse a painful reminder of the accident in the ghost portal.

Memories flooded back in fragmented flashes. The screams, the burning sensation, the searing light that had enveloped him when the portal had torn open and ripped through his body. He had never really seen what he looked like after the accident — he’d never wanted to. He had convinced himself that his ghost form was just another side of him, a reflection of his powers, of the energy that had saved him from the brink of death.

But he hadn’t been saved.

He had died.

The boy who had entered that portal was dead, reduced to ash and embers. What stood before him now was something else entirely—something that only wore Danny Fenton’s face when the hazmat suit was on. But beneath it, there was nothing human left.

Just this… charred, hollow corpse.

Danny’s legs gave out beneath him, and he slid to the floor, his back pressed against the cold tile wall. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of his twisted reflection, but he couldn’t unsee it. The truth had sunk in, deep into his core.

He was no longer the boy who lived. He was the boy who had died. Everything since that accident, everything he had tried to hold onto—his family, his friends, his life—had been a lie. Phantom wasn’t just a mask or a persona. It was all that remained.

He let out a shaky breath, or at least tried to. It caught in his throat, more of a rasp than anything else. What would his parents say if they saw him like this? If they knew the truth of what had happened to their son? Would they even recognize him as Danny, or would they see him as just another ghost — just another monster to be hunted and destroyed?

He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the unnatural smoothness of his charred skin, the faint vibration of ectoplasm flowing beneath it like blood. It was a grotesque mockery of life. He wasn’t healing, wasn’t recovering from this. This was him now. This was all he had left.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but even they were tinged green, drops of ectoplasm that burned as they rolled down his cheeks. He looked up at his reflection once more, his glowing eyes locking with the hollow, scorched thing staring back at him.

And for the first time since the accident, Danny Phantom understood just how much he had truly lost.

He wasn’t prepared to take off the mask — not now, not ever. Because the mask, the suit, the human skin he hid behind, was all that kept him tethered to the life he so desperately wanted to return to.

But the truth had always been waiting beneath. A truth as blackened and charred as the body he now inhabited.

And now, there was no hiding from it.

[ghostlyglimmer]

Where Are You? (And I'm So Sorry)

Summary:

Tucker Foley receives a desperate text from his best friend, Danny Fenton, asking for help. When Tucker arrives at Danny’s basement, he finds the inactive Ghost Portal Project is on.

The evening had been quiet—too quiet for Tucker Foley’s liking. He had been tinkering with his tech in the comfort of his room when his phone buzzed on the desk. Picking it up casually, Tucker froze at the sight of the message.

“I’m in trouble, come quick.”

It was from Danny.

Tucker’s heart skipped a beat. Deep in Tucker’s gut alarm bells rang that something had gone very wrong. He trusted his gut with his life. Tucker’s hands moved on autopilot, tossing his stuff into a backpack as he sprinted out the door, heart hammering in his chest.

It wasn’t a long run to Fenton Works, but the growing knot of anxiety in his stomach made the journey feel like an eternity. He tried calling Danny twice, but both calls went straight to voicemail. No answer. No sign that Danny had even seen the messages Tucker sent back.

By the time Tucker reached Danny’s house, the sun was sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the street. The familiar shape of Fenton Works loomed before him, and Tucker’s stomach churned at the sight of green light seeping through the  tiny basement window. The ghost portal. Had something gone wrong with the portal?

Bursting through the front door, Tucker barely paused to catch his breath as he descended the stairs into the lab. The moment his feet hit the basement floor, the hum of the ghost portal surrounded him. The air was thick with an unnatural energy, sending goosebumps prickling across his skin.

But it wasn’t the glowing portal that made Tucker’s heart stop.

It was Danny.

He was sprawled out in front of the portal, unmoving, his body limp against the cold metal floor. His black and white Phantom suit was torn, his face pale— too pale —and his chest wasn’t rising. There was no mistaking it. Tucker had seen death before, but never like this. Never Danny.

Tucker dropped his bag and ran to his friend, dropping to his knees beside Danny’s lifeless form. His hands trembled as he touched Danny’s wrist, then his neck, desperately searching for a pulse.

There was nothing. No heartbeat. No warmth. Only cold, stiff skin.

“No… Danny, come on, man, wake up!” Tucker’s voice broke as he gently shook his best friend, hoping for some sign, any sign that this wasn’t real. “You can’t—this can’t be happening!”

But Danny didn’t move. He was dead—had been for hours.

Tucker’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind reeling. How had this happened? 

And yet here he was—cold, lifeless, gone.

Tucker wiped at his eyes, his vision blurring with tears. The ghost portal behind him thrummed ominously, casting an eerie green glow across the room. It was on.

The portal was working.

His parents had been trying to get it operational for years, and somehow… somehow it had activated.

Tucker’s stomach twisted. Had Danny been caught in it? Had the portal malfunctioned, or had a ghost attack gone wrong? The possibilities raced through his mind, each one worse than the last.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Tucker blinked, momentarily confused. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

A new text.

From Danny.

“Where are you? Hurry.”

The blood drained from Tucker’s face. He stared at the screen, his mind unable to process what he was seeing. It couldn’t be real. Danny was dead. Dead. His body was lying right in front of him. How could he be sending texts?

His phone buzzed again, the noise slicing through the heavy silence of the lab like a knife.

“Please, hurry. I’m still here.”

Tucker’s breath hitched, and he glanced back at Danny’s body. His best friend hadn’t moved. He was still pale, still cold. Still dead. Tucker’s hands trembled as he looked between Danny’s body and the glowing ghost portal.

“Still here…” Tucker whispered, his voice barely audible. 

Another buzz.

“Please, Tucker. You need to help me.”

Tucker wiped at his eyes again, determination settling in his chest as he stared at the swirling green vortex of the portal.

His phone buzzed one last time.

“Please. I’m scared.”

[ghostlyglimmer]

Unlikely Roads: Chapter 1

Summary:

Danny and his rival, Wes Weston, as they join forces to escape the GIW. On a tense road trip, they uncover personal truths and forge an unexpected bond while battling both the GIW and their own conflicts.

Fic is inspired by @greenglowinspooks's post!

The quiet of Amity Park’s night was shattered by the frantic pounding on Danny’s window.

Danny Fenton sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing. His first thought was that some ghost had decided to wreck his night. Again. But when he glanced at the clock—2:17 AM—and looked outside, what he saw wasn't a ghost at all. It was Wes Weston. Bruised, bloody, and visibly shaking.

“What the hell?” Danny muttered, more annoyed than alarmed at first. Wes had always been a thorn in his side. Always trying to "out" him as Danny Phantom to everyone in school, even though no one ever believed him. But this? This was...different.

“Fenton!” Wes’s voice cracked through the glass, desperate and raw. “Open up!”

Still half-asleep, Danny threw back his blanket and padded across the floor. He opened the window just a crack, enough to hear the panic in Wes’s voice more clearly. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“They’re after me,” Wes gasped, leaning against the window frame, struggling to catch his breath. His face was pale, and his clothes were torn, as if he’d barely escaped something—or someone. “The GIW… they’re after me. And you.”

That got Danny’s attention. “Wait, what?”

Wes took a shaky breath, wincing as he touched a cut on his forehead. “They’ve been watching me. For weeks. Ever since I started poking around, asking too many questions. An hour ago, they got a warrant. They want me in custody because of what I know... and they want you for what you are.”

Danny’s stomach flipped. The GIW—the Ghost Investigation Ward—had been a constant threat ever since they’d set up camp in Amity Park, hunting ghosts with their high-tech weapons and zero tolerance. But for them to be after Wes too? That was new. That was bad.

He could feel the cool buzz of his ghost sense curling in his chest, a sign that danger was near, though not supernatural this time. It was human—and that made it scarier. He narrowed his eyes at Wes. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I didn’t have to come here!” Wes snapped, his voice breaking. “I could’ve run. I should’ve run, but I didn’t! They’ll kill me just for knowing your secret, and you? They’ll do worse to you if they catch you.”

Danny clenched his jaw, weighing his options. Wes had been a royal pain for so long—constantly badgering him about being Phantom, always trying to expose him. But Wes looked absolutely terrified. There was no mistaking the desperation in his eyes.

“Look,” Wes pleaded, his breath ragged. “You’ve got powers. You’ve got a chance. But I can’t... I can’t do this alone.”

Danny stood frozen, staring at Wes. The easy thing would be to slam the window shut, let Wes deal with his mess. But if what he said was true—and Danny's gut told him it was—they were both in deep trouble.

“Fine,” Danny grumbled, yanking the window open fully and helping Wes climb inside. “But we’re gonna need more than your paranoid rambling to get out of this.”

“I have a plan,” Wes said, his voice still shaky but firm. “My uncle. He lives out of state. He doesn’t trust the government, hates the GIW, all that. He’ll help us, no questions asked.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle? And where does this government-hating conspiracy theorist live?”

“Florida.” Wes rubbed his hands together, trying to shake off the cold sweat from his skin. “Or Alaska. Either one works. The farther the better.”

Danny groaned. “Great. So, what? We hitchhike to Florida?”

“I have a bike. It’s my brother’s old one.” Wes hesitated. “But it’s in bad shape.”

“You think?”

“I didn’t have time to fix it, okay?! They showed up out of nowhere. We don’t have time to be picky.”

Danny frowned, pacing. He didn’t have many choices. If Wes was right, the GIW could be busting down the door any minute now. His parents were out of town, Jazz was staying at a friend’s, and Tucker and Sam were both unreachable at this hour. Danny didn’t know how much he trusted Wes—actually, he didn’t trust Wes at all—but he knew one thing: the GIW wasn’t going to stop until they had him. And if they thought Wes was connected to Phantom, they’d take him down too.

“Fine,” Danny said. “Let’s go.”

They crept downstairs as quietly as possible, slipping out the back door. As promised, Wes’s “bike” sat at the edge of the driveway, looking like it had seen better days—years ago. Rust clung to the metal frame, the engine sputtered when Wes tried to start it, and the tires were half-deflated.

“Oh, this is just great,” Danny muttered sarcastically, arms crossed. “We’re going to outrun the government on this thing?”

“Shut up and help me,” Wes hissed, yanking on the choke to get the engine going. Danny rolled his eyes but grudgingly stepped in, using his powers to subtly jumpstart the engine. After a few coughs and splutters, the bike roared to life—well, more like it wheezed to life, but it was running.

Danny climbed on behind Wes, the smell of gasoline thick in the air. He glanced behind them, half-expecting to see the black vans of the GIW pulling into his neighborhood. Nothing yet. But he knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Alright, Weston,” Danny muttered, gripping the back of the seat. “Let’s see how long we last before this thing breaks down.”

Wes glanced over his shoulder, his expression a mix of fear and determination. “Let’s just hope we make it out of town first.”

With that, Wes twisted the throttle, and they shot forward down the empty street, the wind biting at their faces as they sped into the night. Danny could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on them. He didn’t know how far they could run, or how long they could hide, but one thing was clear: for better or worse, they were in this together now.

As they tore through the deserted streets, the tension between them simmered. Danny kept one eye on the road ahead, the other on Wes. Part of him still wondered if this was some elaborate trick—if Wes would sell him out the second he got the chance. But then Danny saw the way Wes’s knuckles whitened on the handlebars, his breath hitching every time they passed a streetlight.

For the first time, Danny realized Wes wasn’t just scared of him. He was scared of the same thing Danny was: the GIW.