#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

[phantomwithbreakfast]

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[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: Chapter 16

Had to do a doodle of my favorite chapter of my fic.

The Fun Zone was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, which made Danny suspicious. Normally, kids were running around, screaming over their ticket totals or fighting over the last slice of pizza. But today, it was eerily calm.

That was until the front door opened, and a massive figure ducked inside. The arcade fell silent as Killer Croc—towering, scaly, and looking very out of place—stood in the doorway.

Danny blinked, frozen in place behind the counter. “Uh… welcome to The Fun Zone?”

Croc grunted, his yellow eyes scanning the room. For a moment, Danny thought he was going to rip the skee-ball machines apart or turn the go-kart track into a wrestling ring. But then, Croc’s gaze landed on the claw machine.

“What’s that?” Croc growled, pointing a clawed finger.

Danny followed his gaze. “The claw machine?”

Croc nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “What’s in it?”

Danny hesitated. “Uh, stuffed animals, mostly. A couple of plushies, keychains, some candy—”

“I want the crocodile,” Croc interrupted, stepping closer. His massive frame loomed over the machine as he squinted at a small green stuffed crocodile wedged between a panda and a rainbow-colored unicorn.

Danny tilted his head. “You… want the plushie?”

Croc nodded again, his claws tapping impatiently on the machine’s glass. “How?”

Danny walked over, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. “Uh, you just put some tokens in and use the claw to grab it. It’s… harder than it looks.”

Croc grunted and fished a handful of change from his pocket, slamming it onto the counter. “Tokens. Now.”

Danny scrambled to exchange the money, handing over a stack of tokens. Croc shoved one into the machine and gripped the joystick with surprising delicacy for someone his size. The claw creaked as it descended toward the crocodile, wobbling slightly before clamping down on its tail.

For a brief, glorious moment, it looked like Croc might win. But then, as the claw ascended, the plushie slipped through its grasp and fell back into the pile.

Croc growled, his teeth bared. “It dropped it.”

“Yeah, uh…” Danny scratched the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a scam. The claw’s weak on purpose.”

Croc turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “Fix it.”

Danny held up his hands. “I can’t! It’s rigged by the manufacturer. But I can, uh, coach you?”

Croc stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. Teach me.”

 

Over the next hour, Danny coached Croc through countless attempts to snag the plushie. They tried angling the claw, timing the drop perfectly, even jiggling the joystick to get a better grip. Each time, the claw either missed entirely or dropped the crocodile just before it reached the prize chute.

“You’ve almost got it,” Danny said for the twelfth time, trying to sound encouraging as Croc jammed another token into the machine. “Just… a little more to the left.”

Croc’s tail twitched in frustration, but he followed Danny’s instructions. The claw descended, grabbed the crocodile by its snout, and finally—finally—dropped it into the chute.

Croc stared at the prize slot, his eyes wide with disbelief. Slowly, he reached in and pulled out the plushie, holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“I got it,” Croc said, his voice softer than Danny had ever heard it. “I got Lil’ Croc.”

Danny blinked. “Lil’ Croc?”

Croc nodded, cradling the stuffed animal like a baby. “Yeah. Lil’ Croc.”

Danny suppressed a laugh. “Well, uh, congrats. You earned it.”

 

Word spread quickly among Gotham’s rogues that Killer Croc had a new companion. Wherever he went, Lil’ Croc went too. He carried it to meetings with Penguin, perched it on his shoulder during heists, and even set it on the table during card games at the Iceberg Lounge.

Penguin was baffled. “Is that… a toy?”

Croc growled. “He is Lil’ Croc. Say hi.”

Penguin blinked, unsure if Croc was joking. “Uh… hi?”

Scarecrow tilted his head, examining the plushie. “Psychologically fascinating,” he muttered. “A manifestation of suppressed nurturing instincts, perhaps?”

Harley Quinn thought it was adorable. “Aw, Croccy! You got a baby! Can I babysit?”

“No,” Croc said firmly, pulling Lil’ Croc closer.

Even Joker, who rarely cared about anyone else’s quirks, raised an eyebrow. “What’s next, Croc? Matching outfits?”

Croc bared his teeth. “You touch Lil’ Croc, and I’ll rip your arms off.”

A few days later, Croc returned to The Fun Zone with Lil’ Croc in tow. He set the plushie on the counter and stared at Danny.

“I need tokens,” Croc said. “For backup.”

Danny grinned, handing him a stack of tokens. “You’re really committed to this, huh?”

Croc nodded solemnly. “Lil’ Croc deserves friends.”

Danny watched as Croc lumbered back to the claw machine, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he tried for a stuffed panda. Shaking his head, Danny turned to Jason, who had just walked out of the back office.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, his gaze fixed on Croc.

Danny smirked. “Just Gotham’s best Fun Zone customer bonding with his new plushie family.”

Jason stared for a long moment before wiping his hands down his face and grumbling towards his office.

Danny chuckled watching his hard ass of a boss exasperated at the scene.

[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 Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

[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]

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]

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 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]

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 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]

The Fun Zone: Chapter 4

Angy Damian is so much fun to draw. He does not appreciate his family booking a birthday party at the off brand chuck e cheese that is The Fun Zone

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]

White Noise by GhostlyGlimmer

Summary:

Phantom didn't mean to do it. He didn’t mean to exist like this, raw and unfiltered, a storm given shape. He didn’t mean to lose himself. But every time he tried to be Danny, the signal broke.

Jazz never believed in ghosts. Not really. Not the way her parents did, with their endless gadgets and crackpot theories. Not the way the town did, with their terrified whispers of Phantom—the electric specter that haunted Amity Park like a living storm.

She believed in Danny.

She believed in the hollow ache in her chest when the accident happened, in the empty seat at the dinner table that no one would talk about. She believed in the way Sam and Tucker never quite smiled anymore, how their conversations were full of sharp edges and unfinished sentences.

She believed in the static.

It started small. A flickering streetlamp when she walked home. A burst of static in her earbuds that made her flinch. Her phone screen distorting for a second, showing glimpses of something—someone—who wasn’t there.

Then came the radio.

She found it in the attic, an old, bulky thing from the 80s that their dad had tossed aside in favor of his more modern ghost-hunting equipment. The first time she turned it on, all she got was dead air. The second time, static. The third—

"I don’t know how to come back."

The words came distorted, stretched thin like they’d traveled too far to reach her properly. The voice—God, the voice. It wasn’t quite Danny’s, but it wasn’t not his, either.

Jazz nearly dropped the radio.

She tried again the next night. And the next. It wasn’t always clear, but the words never changed.

"I don’t know how to come back."

She started to believe that maybe he never left.

Amity Park called him Phantom.

They feared him, more than the other ghosts, more than anything else that stalked the streets at night. Because Phantom wasn’t just a ghost—he was a phenomenon. A presence that made the air taste of burnt ozone, that made neon signs shatter when he passed. He wasn’t like the other ghosts, bound by their own rules. He didn’t just fight—he erased.

The GIW tried to capture him once. Their containment units shorted out the moment he got near, exploding in violent sparks. The agents barely escaped, faces blistered from the sudden burst of heat.

Ghosts feared him even more.

The first time Skulker tried to hunt him, his ectosuit fried, leaving him a twitching mess of sparking metal. Ember’s guitar wailed with a feedback scream and exploded in her hands. Technus fled at the mere sight of him.

Phantom didn't mean to do it.

He didn’t mean to exist like this, raw and unfiltered, a storm given shape. He didn’t mean to lose himself.

But every time he tried to be Danny, the signal broke.

He could barely hold onto the memories. They flickered in and out, like static, like old television snow. He remembered running home from school, Jazz ruffling his hair, Sam rolling her eyes at Tucker’s jokes. He remembered dying, sort of—except he never stopped. Never crossed over. Just became this.

This thing.

This force of nature that couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop.

Jazz was going to find him.

She kept the radio close, fiddling with the knobs, trying to pick up anything else. Some nights, the signal was stronger. She could hear his voice layered over itself, overlapping fragments of thought.

"Jazz."

"Help."

"I can’t feel anything."

She chased the static, walking the empty streets at night, ignoring the way the lights flickered around her. Ignoring the way the shadows moved.

And then—

She saw him.

He wasn’t human.

His body was skeletal with marred charred skin stretched taut all over, with cracks of ectoplasm on his left arm. Made of crackling energy, barely contained in a vaguely humanoid shape. His eyes were endless pits of green light, burning like overcharged circuits. She stepped closer, her hair lifted from the static charge in the air.

He turned toward her.

And then—his form glitched. His shape wavered, flickering between something—someone—else. For half a second, she swore she saw her brother.

“Danny,” she whispered.

The storm hesitated.

Lightning cracked through the air, arcing from his fingertips to a nearby streetlamp. The bulb exploded, glass shattering across the pavement.

“Danny, it’s me,” she tried again, stepping forward. The static in the air made her skin tingle, but she didn’t stop.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. Just a noise, distorted and fractured, like an old recording breaking apart. Then, softer—

"I don’t know how to come back."

She gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll bring you back.”

For the first time in what felt like eternity, Phantom stayed still.

And in the distance, an old radio crackled to life.

[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.”