Chapter 1: Thursday Afternoon: Scape rooms and muggers
Chapter Text
The Gotham vigilantes hadn't noticed them at first. Probably the first few days they had gone unperceived by the Bat and the Birds as most tourists were in the city.
You see, most tourists didn't last a whole week in the streets of Gotham. It wasn’t even because of the Rogues but because Gothamites didn't like tourists. When you live in one, if not the most, dangerous city of the USA there are certain… prejudices that carry on. Other citizens of this nation would look at an average Gothamite with disdain, and that only made Gothamites look at any non-Gothamite with equal disgust.
So when a group of teens and a couple of chaperones were sited on the city, the average citizen thought they wouldn't last more than a couple of days before cutting their trip short.
And thus, this became the reason why Batman hadn't thought of looking deeper into those tourists until that Thursday afternoon.
He entered his study at the sound of his children snickering, and that wasn't anything new considering the three who were laughing were Duke, Steph and Tim. Except their snickering didn't stop even when Duke extended his hand towards the other two.
“Told you they made the Riddler cry, pay up now”
“What are you watching?” Bruce walked towards his kids, who looked up at him before grins started to extend on their faces.
“Oh B-man, you are gonna love this” Steph all but stole Duke's phone and passed it to Bruce, there was a video from what seemed to be a feed from a warehouse. It had the Oracle logo on it so he knew this was information that Barbara had sent to the Cave.
And then the video started playing.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
In what seemed to be a dimly lit, abandoned warehouse. Teens that were unidentifiable were tied to chairs in a circle, facing The Riddler. The rogue stood smugly before a chalkboard covered in elaborate scribbles.
“Welcome, my dear captives,” The Riddler started in what could be perceived as glee, “to your intellectual demise! To earn your freedom, you must solve this riddle of unparalleled complexity. For every Riddle you solve correctly I will free one of you, for every Riddle you don't solve correctly, well, peril awaits those who can't solve them.”
Doing a round to let every captive see the chalkboard, the Riddler seemed to tap something on the board.
“I am taken from a mine, and shut inside a wooden case, from which I am never released, and yet I am used by nearly every human. What am I?”
A young adult with dark hair and as pale as death scoffed. “A pencil. Next?”
The Riddler stammered “Wait—what? You couldn’t possibly—”
“Yeah, it’s totally a pencil.” Another teen answered, his head with a red beanie nodding along “But, uh, quick question—why are you saying it’s “never released”? Graphite gets used when you write, so it’s technically released.”
“Also, "never released" implies permanence, which is inherently incorrect given how pencils function.” Said another one who could be one of the Flash kids with the head of red hair he was sporting “Did you fact-check this before you kidnapped us? You know, like Google it or something?”
And to everyone's extreme amusement, the Riddler stomped on the floor like an angry child.
“Silence! The riddle is—ugh, fine! A new riddle, then! Ahem. What has cities, but no houses; forests, but no trees; rivers, but no water?”
This time a woman, dressed in what kids would call goth, answered with a petulant tone “Dude, that’s so old. It’s a map. Are you even trying?”
“Seriously, man, I expected more from someone who claims to be a criminal genius.” Said the girl next to her. It didn't escape anyone –except the Riddler’s apparently– notice that she was cutting the ropes with what seemed to be a nail file like some sort of prison escapee.
And then to the ones solving the puzzles absolute delight, the sputtering of Riddler was abruptly interrupted by what seemed to be two teens playing games loudly.
“I spy something green.” A blond guy asked, he was wearing some sort of sport team jacket
“Uh…his suit?” Said another teen with the same jacket.
“Yup. Your turn.”
The Riddler turned to look at those kids, red in the face “STOP THAT! This is a test of intellect, not a childish road trip game!”
“Ugh, this is childish.” A blond girl groaned, she moved the chair slowly trying to get closer to another girl. Her demeanor was completely bored despite the situation. “Can’t you just, like, let us go? I need to hit the mall before the sales end.”
“Yeah, this is, like, the most boring kidnapping ever.” A latina groaned, trying to help her friend get closer “And do you even have a fashion sense? That suit is totally not your color”
The Riddler started to trembler
“How dare you! My riddles are unparalleled masterpieces of mental gymnastics!”
“Masterpieces?” the guys with a beanie interjected again “These riddles are on the same level as a cereal box.”
“Actually,” The guy who would be called ‘Robin bait' stage whispered, “I think the cereal box ones might be harder. Less room for semantic errors.”
“Enough!” The Riddler screamed, turning to see the black haired guy with… were those tears on his eyes? “Let’s see you mock this riddle! Ahem. I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I touch, will soon turn red. What am I?”
“Pff” the Flash wannabe snorted “Fire. But wait, why does it "always" have to be fed? Fires can burn out.”
“And technically, the whole "finger turning red" thing isn’t universal. Gloves exist.” The Black haired kid shook his head
“Plus,” The guy with a beanie looked at the other team “what about, like, cold fires? Flames can have different colors.”
And that was the moment that the windows broke and Signal dashed into the room, who hovered in the air as the Riddler hyperventilated while crouching on the floor. Signal slowly lowered himself and the Riddler thrusted his fists towards him in a grunt.
“Just, take me now, take me back to Arkham”
“O-okay” Duke put the handcuffs on his wrists before turning to the teens “are all of you alright?”
“Oh, totally” the black haired teen shrugged “not our first rodeo”
And to Signal’s clear surprise, the group of young adults who had been tied this whole time just… stood up, ties falling around them before walking away and chattering. The teen that looked like Robin Bait walked towards Duke and he was tall, taller than the vigilante. He clapped his shoulder and gave him his hand.
“Thank a lot” now the sound came out clearer, probably Oracle had overdosed the image with Duke comes recording “you arrived at the perfect time for us to miss the whole introductory lecture on the of Gotham U architecture prowess”
“Uh… your welcome?”
“Danny!!” The red beanie called Danny, the Robin Bait, over to the door “Come on, Jazz and Dan are outside with the bus to pick us up”
“Going!!” This Danny guy answered before patting Signal’s shoulder “Anyway, good job out there, keep up the hard work!”
And then he just ran to his friend.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Bruce looked at his kids bewildered. Tim and Steph were chortling while Duke was nodding along.
“That's right B-man, no one believed me so I bet them real money that this had happened.”
“Where do these kids come from?” He just asked looking back at the frozen screen. You could see Signal looking completely confused in the last frame, probably with a face similar to Bruce's own bewilderment at the moment.
“They come from a town called Amity Park” Tim answered, walking towards him and taking the phone away from his hand “it is as squeaky clean as a small city in the Midwest can be. A couple of minor robberies, some disturbance, but nothing that made Oracle concerned. She is still investigating deeper but it seems they are just built different”
“Hnn”
Just as Bruce was going to play the video again (for his own entertainment this time, anyone who could make the Riddler cry made Bruce happy) Oracle voice came out of the speaker system.
“Quick! Tune into GNN”
The vigilantes looked at each other before diving for the remote and tunning into the news.
“- and then he appears out of nowhere” the lady on the television was tall, taller than the news reporter, and looked a little sheepish. She was playing with her ginger hair while looking around with huge cyan eyes, like looking for something. “So of course I had to also hit him with the baseball bat”
“You didn't know that Park Row was protected by the Crime Lord?”
“How would I know!” The lady groaned, covering her face with clear embarrassment.
The camera panned, to everyone's surprise, towards Red Hood who was sitting on the curve holding what seemed to be a closed icecream on his head.
The title of the news changed from “Breaking news, Park Row gets a surprise” to “Local vigilante gets a bat to the head” as the news reporting played a video that seemed to be taken from a camera close to the event.
You could see the woman hitting what seemed to be a mugger just for Red Hood to fall behind her, lift his hands probably trying to de-escalate the situation, but she had turned like the rage of god was on her hands and wacked Hood so hard on the head you can see the tall man stumble to the side.
And everyone in the Batfam knew, nothing short of a hit from a car could make Hood stumble like that.
The person recording the interaction had run towards them screaming “vigilante! He is a vigilante!” And the last you could see in the recording, the lady had dropped the bat and looked mortified.
The news came back to the present and you could see her now sitting next to Hood, pressing the pack onto his helmet while her lips moved.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
“And, again, I am really sorry. I really don't take well the being startled so I wasn't thinking when I swan at you”
Jason was in a big problem, the biggest problem in his undead life.
He was in love!
Or concussed, the jury was still out on that one.
When he had gotten the heads up that someone was on his turf, he had groaned and suited up to save whatever tourist that had thought Park Row was a nice visit location in the late afternoon. Yet when he had arrived at the scene he had been pleasantly surprised to see this gorgeous, tall and strong woman beating the shit out of a penguin goon. So of course, he had jumped in to try and de-escalate the situation (and to ask for her number maybe) just to receive a full blunting force to the head.
And it was fast, too, Batman fast. The kind of fast that instigates fear to your enemies and allies alike. The kind of fast that talks about years of training mixed with deep trauma, the kind that talks about dancing conga on the line between becoming a vigilante or the next supervillain capable of destroying Superman.
Okay, DEFINITELY concussed.
“Are you… do you need to go to a hospital?”
“...Marry me”
“... I'm going to call 911” And as she stood up to make a call, Jason realized he couldn't let her go. So in his concussed state he reached out to her and grabbed her hand. Her turquoise eyes locked on him before tilting her head to the side in question.
“What's your name”
“I can't give you my name” she said, shaking her head but not taking her hand away. Jason considered this a good sign.
“Why?”
“Have you ever heard of stranger danger?” Gosh what a woman.
“You smacked my head with a bat, I would think we are more than acquaintances now” And that statement got her giggling up a storm. It was cute, it was everything Jason ever wanted. He felt in some sort of meet cute from a Jane Austen book with the sounds of the city around them and the soft light of the afternoon shining around them.
Jason had found his soulmate!
Or his concussion was starting to make him see everything slightly too bright.
“Then you tell me your name firs-”
“JAAZZZ!!!!” The moment was ruined when a young woman came running to where they were waving her arms around. Jason had seen goth before, he lived in a goth mansion with a man who dressed as a Bat. He had not considered someone could take Goth and make it a threat.
“Sam? What is going on?” His soon to be wife, Jazz (Jazz and Jay, they even rhymed) let go of his hand and turned to look at Sam confused. The Goth girl did a full stop before taking a deep breath and pointing in a certain direction.
“Danny is trying to break into Arkham to fight the Clown!”
“What!” Jazz screeched, her hands flying to her head “I told you all to not tell him about the Joker!”
“Paulina thought it would be hilarious and the perfect way to get out of the WE visit!”
“Why are you all like this!!” And they both took off running towards the direction Sam had come from, leaving Jason to see the love of his life run away seemingly to stop someone from fighting the Joker.
And after that, Jason decided it was time to open his comms. Clicking the external button he turned into Oracle channel to see if anyone else was online or was just him and Babs. The comms exploded in chatter for a couple of minutes until they all quiet down, noticing that Jason was online and waiting to hear what he had to say.
And he had a lot to say, he was a man on a mission.
“O, you copy me?”
“Yeah, Red Hood, I am here” Oracle said with mirth. She probably already had been hearing everything that happened and everything he had said before.
“Little Wing, I am close to your location, Alfie has asked us to get you back home for a check up”
“Not now, Nightwing” Jason stood up, he cracked his neck side to side before stretching his arms up. “O, I need you to use face recognition and find that woman”
“Oh? Going to enact revenge?” The brat asked, the echo showing he was probably in the Batcave observing. Jason walked towards the bat that had been left behind, picking it up and casually leaning it onto his shoulder.
“Revenge? Nono, that is future Missus Hood there, I need to find her to ask her hand in marriage”
The comms went quiet for a second.
Before voices filled his ears.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Later that afternoon in the cave, the Bat and the Birds were getting ready to go out on patrol.
Jason had gotten a green light that his conclusion was on the clear and he was allowed to go back out for tonight. In the meantime Tim was on the computer replaying the video of the teens but running it into face recognition to see if something came out. That is until the voice of Oracle came out of everyone's comms.
“Guys? I have found something.”
“Found the next Missus Hood?” Nightwing joked. Red Hood huffed annoyed that his early conclusion had embarrassed him with his siblings.
“Actually, that's what is concerning” she said before the bat computer was filled with documents. “This is Jazmine Fenton, 22”
On the screen you could see the picture of the woman that had all but captured Jason's heart. She was smiling to the camera and her file read ‘Gotham U undergrad in psychology and sociology’.
“Wow Hood, what a catch” Steph whistled while Tim chortled.
“What's the problem, Oracle?” Bruce asked, looking at his kids with clear amusement.
“I was checking her records and everything seemed fine and all, except they are all fake”
Silence suddenly rained into the cave.
“Fake” asked Hood, confused.
“Not only that, I can only find records dating four years ago. It was concerning so I tried to look for a family and take a look at this.”
Now the screen lit up with the picture of the black haired teen from earlier, named Daniel James Fenton, 18.
“Hey!” Duke said, pointing to the screen “Is the guy from the Riddle kidnapping earlier
“They both come from the town Amity park. The town itself didn't raised many flags to me until I noticed that all the information that could be coming from it dates fours years ago, and that the current four years of information that we can find is just a repeated loop of the previous years making it seemed like time is passing, but nothing new is happening”
“You mean they are using previous information?”
“I mean that four years ago, the town went completely media dark for half a year and then whatever I could find is just a repeat of a period before that but with dates altered.”
Notes:
Danny, to an Arkham guard: What do you mean the clown is not in here?
Arkham guard: yeah, sorry, we havent told the public but he scaped last month.
Danny: That are some GREAT news! that means I can find him in the wild!
Bob (the Arkham ward): I am not sure if they are great news if I am being honest.
Danny: Thanks Charles! I will go look for him now!
Bob, aka Charles: your... welcome?
Chapter 2: Thursday Night: Tag you are it
Notes:
List of Tumblr Prompts used for this:
List of Mr. Lancers 'DO NOT's that he keeps adding things to, while in Gotham
DCXDP Ghosts mate for life (and dead)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dick surveyed the flock of teens accompanied by their young adult shepherd.
After the big revelation , Bruce had decided they needed to “keep their beady bat-eyes” on the tourists to figure out what kind of zoo they were dealing with. Apparently, this was day three of their seven-day Gotham safari, and tonight the expedition had split into smaller groups to visit some of the city's infamous wildlands—also known as landmarks.
Red Robin was tailing one group led by the teacher Mr. Lancer, who had some teens in tow. Steph was shadowing the group guided by Jazmine Fenton and her pack of tag-alongs.
And lastly, Dick was following someone named Dante Fenton, a man who seemed to have materialized out of thin air about three years ago.
“Dan-Dan! Look at this!”
Of course, Dick’s group came with a live wire—a pint-sized hurricane disguised as a child. She couldn’t have been older than twelve, about Dami’s age, and she radiated sunshine like a hyperactive supernova. She was hanging from Dante’s (or Dan’s, as the others called him) arm like a monkey, while a green leash tethered her to him like an overexcited puppy. Every five seconds, she’d point at something new with cartoonish awe. Twice, she had tried to bolt, only to be snapped back like a rogue slingshot.
Dick briefly wondered if he could get one of those leashes for Damian—or if it’d end with him mauled like Alfred’s poor tomato plants.
“Isn't that Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn from the news?!”
Dick winced as he followed the girl’s pointer-finger radar. Sure enough, Ivy and Harley were enjoying a moonlit picnic. Because of course they were. Gotham patrols always came with a side of weird, didn’t they?
“Wait, Ivy?” The goth girl—now identified as Sam Manson—did a double take before breaking into a mischievous grin. “Oh my god, I love her work! I need an autograph!”
Dan shrugged nonchalantly, handing over the girl’s leash like a casual dog walker. “Be my guest and go chat her up. But don’t let Ellie off the leash.”
“Of course, evil twin.”
“I won’t do anything baaad—Danny told me to rein it in until we’re out of bat territory.”
The five friend group of jocks looked at the other teen girl. The other teen girl and her boyfriend exchanged shrugs before nodding to the jocks, following Sam toward the Gotham rogues like they were lining up at Comic-Con.
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose and raised a hand to his comm. Before he could open the channel and report the happenstance, he felt it—that predator’s gaze, heavy as a tiger stalking its prey. His eyes snapped down to the street, locking onto Dan, whose intense red eyes pinned him like a bug under glass.
The sensation sparked fire along Dick’s nerves—and, inexplicably, a fluttering heat in his stomach.
Oh no. Nope. Not touching that one. Definitely not in uniform.
Dan smirked, fangs flashing in the dim light, and waved in a gesture that was half challenge, half invitation.
Well , Dick thought dryly. I could do the smart thing and call Bruce.
Or...
With a grin, Dick leaped off the building, flipping theatrically before landing a few feet from Dan.
Dan gave a low whistle. “Not bad. Didn’t expect a flying squirrel.”
Dick preened, just a little. What? He was a born showman, and the approval fed his ego like a perfectly-timed applause break.
“Actually,” he said, “it’s ‘Nightwing.’ But squirrels work too.”
Up close, Dan was a giant—easily taller than Jason, broader too. Jason was built for street brawls and alley scrapes; Dan looked like he was built to overthrow a government with his bare hands.
“Is there a reason you’ve been shadowing us, Birdie?” Dan crossed his arms, baring too many sharp teeth in a smirk that felt more predator than human. The sensation of being a Robin caught under a hawk’s talons crept over Dick again.
“Hey, civilian, I’m just keeping an eye out in case of emergency,” Dick said breezily.
Dan leaned in, smirk widening. “You’ve been following us, handsome. Don’t try to duck the question. So, tell me—has the big Bat decided we’re a liability yet? Or is he just trying to wing it with us?”
Dick blinked, torn between anxiety and grudging admiration. This was going to be a long night.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Ellie couldn't believe it!!
She was sitting on Lady Ivy's lap while getting a braid made with flowers. Sam was talking with Ivy about activism and propaganda and revolution against the factories while Star and Lady Quinzel were revising what could be considered girl empowerment throughout the history of the world, specifically about girls who committed mass murder in the name of feminism.
Kwon and his goons were agreeing with whatever his girlfriend was saying like the man puppy they all were. If anyone thought the jocks ruled the school, they had nothing on the cheerleaders.
But regardless, she was getting a nice braid. And from her vantage point she could see her oldest brother had the oldest bird pinned down against a wall and were DEFINETELY using their mouths for not-talking. Of course Dan would hear Danny warning about fucking with the bird's and decided that you can't fuck with them if you are fucking them
How did he pull the man? That was something Ellie didn't know and didn't want to know, she was too young for that.
Her eyes went to the roofs with nostalgia. Now that her dog walker was out of the picture she really wanted to bolt. She missed roof hopping and country watching, but ever since she told Danny that she wanted to come with him (and since Jazz forced him to say yes, citing some psychological garble about family trips and the importance of bonding) she had been put under strict watch. She was a little bored and a lot restrained and she wanted freedom.
That is until she felt a light click on her side.
Her eyes went to Dr. Quinzel, who was looking at her with a grin. Star had finished talking with the gorgeous lady and was now discussing something with her entourage and Sam hadn't realized what was going on. Harley leaned towards her with a grin that could rival the one from a hyena before whispering the sweetest words Ellie had ever heard.
“From a wild child to another, bring them hell”
Ellie wiggled a little and felt the Leash™ loose. And her grin grew to rival the psychologist.
Ellie looked at Poison Ivy and noticed that their eyes crossed for a second before she winked at her.
Well, if everyone were on board.
She bolted faster than an arrow shot by a Star City vigilante. Sam didn't have even the moment to say something before she was already on the roof and running. She could hear Dan cursing before sending everything to hell and going back to let every available surface on the blue vigilante red.
And now the only one who could stop her was Danny and he was not on sight. So it meant Ellie had the night to herself!
Time to look for a friend to play tag with.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
“Danny” Mr Lancer said, looking directly at him with a deadpan expression “what were the ‘Do Not’ that I said today during breakfast?”
Danny frowned a little, trying to think back on the DO NOT added to the list of given by his teacher before coming to the Gotham Trip™
- Do not treat the Riddler (or any kind of Kidnapping) as an escape room.
Which they had kinda ignored when The Riddler had kidnapped them and the vigilantes had taken more than ten minutes to rescue them. Look, it wasn't Danny's fault that the Gotham vigilantes were overworked and slow on response time.
- Do not bite/eat/chew/salivate on locals.
- Do not bet on which vigilante would appear the fastest. Subsequently do not trip the ones who you hadn't bet on.
What Mr. Lancer didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Everyone had their favorite bat and bird after all and even if Danny had given direct ehh… directions that you couldn't interfere with their work that didn't mean that the betting poll was out of the question. Currently Paulina had the lead as she had betted on Signal being the vigilante that arrived the fastest. She had cited something about knowing when a dude knew how to do their job without side tracking themselves.
- Do not catcall the Catwoman (both whistle and Kitty kitty were prohibited)
And they all knew not to do that, especially the guys. Sam had let it VERY clear that she would not tolerate any disrespect to the powerful woman role models of Gotham. And maybe they were not afraid of said antiheroes but they were very afraid of Sam.
She had the power of God and Plants on her side.
- Do not raise the dead.
- Do not interfere with Mafia. And if you do, do not get your classmates in on it.
And then the DO NOT that Danny was NOT following right now.
“Do not make snowman out of Mr. Freeze snow, or at least, DO NOT do it in front of him?”
“And what are you doing right now?”
“To be fair” Danny said as he dodged a snowball that came flying over his head “we are technically not doing a snowman with it”
It hasn't been completely his idea of fun. They all had been walking down the street of Gotham towards the Martha Wayne Art Gallery when they had all ended up in the middle of the icicle rogue trying to take control over a hospital. His classmates had rushed to cover behind the police cars. And that's when Dash had grabbed the snow and threw it at Danny. And of course, he had to retaliate.
Also, it has given them enough of a leeway when Mr. Freeze had done his namesake proud and frozen at the spot. Danny guesses he was not used to civvies not taking him seriously.
And for what Danny could see of the bird following them around, he had also froze at the sight.
“Danny,” Mr. Lancer groaned, clearly tired of his antics as he pressed his fingers to his eyes. Still, Danny could notice the shaking of his hands and the anxious beating of his heart. Mr. Lancer wasn't as connected with the ectoplasm as the rest of them, so for obvious reasons, he was the most squishy of them all. That made him vulnerable and thus, nervous about being hurt.
That was the moment a snowball hit Mr. Freeze square on the face.
Danny froze, his stomach plummeting like a lead weight. A small puff of snow exploded against the villain’s iconic crystal dome, flakes sticking to the glass as everyone stared. For a second, there was silence. Then the muffled sound of a low growl began to rise, like a storm gathering strength.
Mr. Freeze reached up slowly, wiping the snow away with deliberate menace. His cold, metallic voice cut through the tension like an arctic wind. “Who dares?”
Everyone scrambled to the closest hiding spot. The geeks, who had been hurdling around Tucker the whole trip, book it into the carpet store that was definitely laundry money. Cops got into their cars, bystanders ran to the closest stores and Mr. Lancer was dragged away by a grappling hook. Behind the car where Danny, Tucker, Dash, and Paulina were crouched, Tucker whispered, “Wasn’t me!”
“Not the time!” Danny hissed back.
Dash smirked, rolling another snowball in his hands. “I don’t know about you guys, but if I’m gonna get frozen solid, I might as well go out swinging.” He lobbed the snowball with the precision of a quarterback, hitting Freeze square in the chest.
“Dash!” Paulina shrieked, which sounded less afraid and more delighted.
Mr. Freeze’s head snapped toward their hiding spot. His freezing ray gun™ hummed ominously as he raised it, his body language promising nothing short of total annihilation.
“Oh no, no, no—he’s coming this way!” Tucker whispered, his voice cracking in mirt.
Danny grabbed a handful of snow, forming his own snowball. “We need to distract him! Keep him focused on us so the others can get away.”
“Us?!” Tucker gawked. “I didn’t sign up for this!”
Danny didn’t wait. He popped out from behind the car and chucked the snowball, hitting Mr. Freeze in the arm. “Over here, Frosty!”
Dash and Paulina used this chance to jump to a new hiding spot, following suit with pelting him with snowballs from different angles. Mr. Freeze spun, clearly enraged, firing his freezing ray in jagged bursts. Ice crawled across the street, encasing mailboxes and streetlights as the group ducked and scrambled behind cars.
“Why are we doing this?!” Tucker yelled, barely dodging a freezing blast.
“To keep him off Mr. Lancer!” Danny called back, throwing another snowball.
Then it happened. Paulina, with her usual flair for chaos, hurled a snowball with a bit too much heft—because it had a rock embedded in it. It struck Mr. Freeze’s crystal helmet with a sharp crack!
Everyone froze. The sound echoed ominously down the street.
Mr. Freeze paused, one gloved hand rising to the crack in his helmet. For a moment, Danny thought they might’ve broken him somehow—then the villain let out an unearthly scream.
“You insolent pests!” Freeze bellowed. He began firing indiscriminately, his freezing ray painting the street in thick layers of ice. Cars, storefronts, and anything unfortunate enough to be in his path were encased in frozen fury.
“That’s not good!” Tucker shouted, sliding on a patch of ice as he dove for cover.
Before Danny could think of a plan, a shadow dropped from above. Red Robin landed gracefully between them and Freeze, his bo staff already extended.
“Finally!” Danny muttered.
Red Robin twirled his staff with a cocky flourish, deflecting the first blast of ice that shot his way. “You know, Freeze, for a guy named Victor, you’ve got to stop losing fights.”
Dr. Freeze growled, adjusting his freezing ray gun™. “Do you ever stop talking, or is it a symptom of the bird flu?”
“Funny,” Red quipped, sidestepping another blast. “I was about to ask if your obsession with cold comes from depression or was just general insanity.”
Danny, still crouched behind the car, felt his face heat up despite the ice coating the street. Oh no, he’s hot. There was something dangerously attractive about someone who could banter mid-battle while looking that confident. And the ecto-contaminated vibes Red was giving off? That was just icing on the crush cake.
He had told all his siblings to not interact with the Bat kids for obvious reasons. And yet here he was, his core purring with delight at seeing the vigilante fight to defend them.
Dr. Freeze snarled, lunging forward to swing the gun like a club. Red ducked under it with ease, jabbing his staff into Freeze’s stomach.
“You know,” Red added, stepping back as Freeze stumbled, “you should really take a break. Maybe thaw out that frozen heart of yours.”
Freeze roared, firing another wild burst of ice that forced Red Robin to somersault backward. Using the momentum, Red Robin launched himself into the air, delivering a sharp kick to Freeze’s chest and sending him crashing into a frozen lamppost.
Danny, still watching from behind the car, whispered, “Okay, that was really cool.”
“Right?!” Tucker whispered back, wide-eyed. Danny eyed his best friend and could see the stars in his eyes. Of course Tuck would be fawning over his favorite Bird right now
Red landed lightly on his feet, spinning his staff once before smacking it against Freeze’s helmet. The crack echoed ominously, and the rogue crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Red Robin crouched over Freeze, tying his hands with practiced efficiency. “Honestly, Freeze, I’d give that performance a solid two stars. Could use more originality.”
“Savage,” Danny murmured under his breath, feeling his core do a stupid little flutter.
Red stood and turned toward the teens’ hiding spot. “You guys okay?”
Dash grinned, playing it cool as he stood up and dusted his pants. “Never better! We totally had it under control.”
The vigilante raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Stay right there, I will get this sorted out and then I want to talk to all of you.”
Danny exchanged a look with Tucker and Paulina, who were both barely holding back their snickers. “Yeah… sure thing, Red.”
As Red Robin hefted Dr. Freeze over his shoulder and walked toward a nearby patrol car, Danny found himself staring a little too long. Confident, funny, and he fights rogues like it’s a dance? He cursed to himself.
“Should we book it?” Paulina asks, putting a hand on Danny's shoulder. Sadly, Danny lost his sense of danger when he became a ghost (or maybe before?) and gained something much worse, ghost obsession. And right now his obsession is vibrating with pranking Red Robin.
“Nono, let him cook”
Clockwork had told him, with a smirk on his face and a twinkling in his eyes, that his core would get attached at Gotham. And here he was, getting core attached in Gotham.
Fuck You Clockwork.
Well, whatever, as long as Dan didn't end up hooking up with the Bat or a Bird, then everything was fine.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Dan sneezed.
He lifted his head a little and looked around. He felt an ominous presence on the back of his head. But when he looked back he didn't see anything.
“What-” Dan looked back at the vigilante who he had under him. He had a clear view of the bitemarks he had left in his neck and shoulders. His core purred in possessiveness.
“Nothing” answered Dan before going back to what he was doing.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Dani roof-hopped for a bit, scanning the streets below, when she spied with her little eye… a bird.
It was the tiny Robin—the one who smelled dead , angry , and like some way too fancy cologne. Seriously, no way that came from a kids' spray bottle.
He was watching something below, so Dani tiptoed closer until she could peek over his shoulder.
Oh. It was the group of B-listers from Danny’s class. The ones Dan had let wander off after taking one look at them and going, “If they die, they die, just don’t let them come back and haunt me.”
Lucky them—they were just chilling at the arcade.
“You know,” Dani whispered, smirking, “they’re probably not gonna cause any chaos. Unlike the A-listers.”
The little songbird jumped so high he nearly yeeted himself off the roof. Dani instantly burst into giggles—right up until she had to jump back to avoid the katana that definitely just tried to slice her in half.
Robin looked spooked and one hundred percent ready to throw down. And honestly? Dani so would’ve been down for a fight… if it didn’t mean she’d, like, totally get grounded for it.
Robin narrowed his eyes, adjusting his stance like he hadn’t just tried to cut her in half. “How, pray tell, did you manage to so thoroughly elude my notice?”
Dani grinned, crossing her arms. “By existing.”
Robin huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Flippancy aside, that was a most alarming display of stealth. Who taught you?”
“Oh, you know. Life.” Dani rocked back on her heels, enjoying how much this guy talked like a grandpa despite looking her age. “So, what’s with the sword? Bit much, don’t you think?”
Robin gave her a look. “One can never be too prepared.” He cast a glance back at the arcade. “Now, these ‘A-listers’ you mentioned—who, precisely, are they? And do any pose a significant threat?”
Dani waved a hand. “The A-listers? They’re the ones who definitely can’t be left unsupervised. No sense of self-preservation, terrible decision-making skills.”
Robin’s frown deepened. “And the threat level ?”
Dani snorted. “Ugh, threat is such a harsh word. They’re more like… Amity-level pranksters.” She paused, considering. “Which, okay, is technically still dangerous, but only in a ‘this will end in fire or slime’ kinda way.”
Robin stared at her like she’d just confessed to unleashing a pack of wild hyenas onto the streets of Gotham. “… I find myself deeply unsettled by that clarification.”
Dani just grinned wider. “Good. You should be.”
Robin folded his arms, scrutinizing her like she was some unsolvable riddle. “You are an enigma wrapped in a paradox, Miss…?”
Dani smirked. “Danielle. But you can call me Dani with an i, or Ellie if its too hard, ‘cause we’re totally besties now.”
Robin did not look convinced. “Indeed. And do all of your ‘besties’ appear from the shadows unannounced?”
She shrugged. “Only the fun ones.”
Robin sighed through his nose. “Very well, Dani. You speak in riddles, but I will have answers. Where are you from?”
“Existentially or geographically?” she asked, tilting her head.
Robin narrowed his eyes. “Geographically.”
“Oh, somewhere .” She waved a hand vaguely toward the horizon.
“…Be specific.”
Dani grinned. “Earth.”
Robin pressed his fingers to his temple, muttering something about testing his patience. “And what, precisely, is your connection to the ‘A-listers’ and ‘B-listers’?”
“Well, see, my cousin—” she stopped, tapping a finger against her chin. “Wait, or is he my brother? Or Dad? Eh, doesn’t matter. Family, y’know?”
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose. “And this family member—”
“—is the reason I exist,” Dani finished, hands on her hips. “So, really, you could say I owe him everything .”
Robin’s eye twitched. “You are doing this on purpose. ”
Dani beamed. “Doing what?”
Robin inhaled deeply, visibly trying to compose himself. Before he could speak, she clapped her hands together.
“Okay, okay, this has been kinda entertaining,” she admitted, “but I’m officially bored now.” Her eyes lit up mischievously. “Wanna play tag?”
Robin blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Tag!” she repeated, already bouncing on her toes. “You know, run, chase, try to tag me before I vanish into the night—classic rooftop fun! Unless you’re too slow ?”
Robin’s expression darkened at the challenge. “I am not too slow.”
“Prove it, birdie! You are it !” Dani cackled—and in a flash, she was gone.
Robin cursed under his breath before launching himself after her.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Spoiler could not believe what she was seeing.
Perched on the rooftop, she’d been keeping an eye on Jazmine Fenton and her group of students during their night visit to Gotham Library when— out of nowhere —JASON of all people just waltzed up to the redhead and started chatting her up.
And he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. No Red Hood intimidation tactics, no broody mystery guy act—just full-on civilian mode, doing everything short of tripping over his own feet to set up a meet-cute with her while she was mid-conversation with Valerie Gray.
Spoiler squinted.
What. The. Hell.
Spoiler felt more than heard Orphan land beside her, the familiar presence instantly grounding her. Without taking her eyes off the scene below, she nudged her girlfriend with an elbow before dramatically pointing at the disaster unfolding beneath them.
"Tell me I'm hallucinating," she whispered. "Tell me Jason isn’t down there being utterly ridiculous over a girl."
Orphan followed her gaze, tilting her head as she observed Jason’s completely unsubtle attempt at flirting. Then, with the same neutral expression, she signed back:
He has not been interested in someone like that since Roy.
Spoiler sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, damn. That was serious.
Spoiler turned to Orphan, eyes wide with something between horror and secondhand embarrassment. “What do we do ?”
Orphan simply shrugged, signing back with an air of absolute calm: Let him be.
“Let him be? Let him be?! ” Spoiler whisper-yelled. “He’s ruining his chances! He’s—he’s—” She gestured wildly at Jason, who was now running a hand through his hair in what was probably supposed to be a casual move but came off as peak dork energy.
Orphan, ever the collected one, observed for another beat before replying: No. He is charming her.
Spoiler scoffed. “There is no way— ” She turned back toward the scene and—
Paused.
Because, to her absolute bewilderment, Jazmine Fenton was giggling a storm, clutching Jason’s arm for support as she bent slightly in laughter.
Spoiler gaped. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Orphan nodded once, then tilted her head slightly before nodding again, signing smoothly: she is not paranoid of him.
Spoiler huffed. “Yeah, well, I am of her,” she muttered, still watching the disaster unfolding below.
Then, a chill ran up her spine.
She felt someone behind her.
Immediately on alert, she whirled around, body tensing—only to pause when she realized Orphan hadn’t so much as twitched.
Which meant… Orphan had already sensed this presence approaching. And she hadn’t reacted because she’d deemed her not a threat.
Because it was a ‘her.’
Valerie Gray plopped down next to them, completely casual, arms resting on her knees as she stared down at Jason and Jazmine.
“Huh,” she said after a beat. “Did not have that on my bingo card.”
Spoiler was good at thinking on the spot. She was a Bat in every sense of the word—trained by the best, best friends with Tim, and personally coached by Dick in the art of making people spill their secrets.
So, she took a deep breath, plastered on a friendly smile, and asked, “Alright, then. What was on your bingo card?”
Valerie shrugged, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a granola bar. She took a bite, completely unfazed by the question.
“Well,” she said between chews, “Danny fighting the Joker, us getting kidnapped, and Dan biting someone were on there.”
Spoiler blinked. “I—what?”
“Yeah.” Valerie took another bite, nodding thoughtfully. “Still missing, like, fifteen squares to win Amity Park Trip Bingo, though.”
Spoiler stared at her. “Wait—you’re serious? I thought you were joking.”
Valerie just shrugged, finishing off the granola bar like she hadn’t just casually admitted to absolute madness. “If Mr. Lancer couldn’t get us to stop playing Bingo, nothing will.”
Spoiler narrowed her eyes. “How exactly did he try to stop it?”
Valerie smirked. “Oh, you know. By making his infamous Lists of Do Nots. ” She lifted a hand and started ticking them off on her fingers. “Like Do not argue with the vigilantes on tactics and strategies, or Do not interfere with the mafia. ”
Spoiler choked on air. “I— would you guys have interfered with the mafia?!”
Valerie just gave her a completely deadpan look. “That’s one of the squares I already completed.”
Before Spoiler could get another word in, Valerie stood up and stretched, arms reaching lazily toward the sky. Then, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell, she turned to them and asked, “So, any of you wanna spar?”
Orphan, without hesitation, lifted her hand and stood up.
Spoiler choked for the second time that night. “Oh, nope, absolutely not! Orphan, you can’t —”
Before she could finish, Valerie waved her off, a silent Let it happen in the motion. Orphan was already rolling her shoulders, shifting into a stance, and—oh no, oh no —Valerie was smirking . And not just any smirk, but the kind of grin that screamed I have fought tigers with my bare hands and won.
“I’ve been meaning to go full force with my Krav Maga for a while now,” Valerie mused, her stance solidifying.
Spoiler felt threatened.
Then, they moved.
The clash of fists and the sharp crack of impacts filled the rooftop. Spoiler stood there, frozen in place, completely torn. Should she watch ? Should she stop them? Should she—
Her eyes flicked downward.
Jason, now fully abandoning his original goal of being subtle , was following Jazz like a lost puppy, the rest of the students trailing behind them. And from the way Jazz was gesturing at the library entrance, it seemed Jason had somehow become their new impromptu tour guide.
Spoiler groaned. “This night is gonna kill me.”
Notes:
Dani -sprinting through Gotham roofs-: Catch me catch me catch me!
Damian -Growling like a feral cat chasing what he deems to be a deadly target-: GET BACK HERE YOU CRAZY!!
Chapter 3: Friday Morning: Breakfast and Booze
Notes:
I dont remember any new Tumblr posts used for this but if you find any pls tell me to add them!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Friday morning started in the hotel cafeteria with the Amity Parkers doing what they did best—being absolute menaces to both logic and order.
Danny was hunched over his black coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive, which, considering his sleep schedule, it probably was. Sam kept stealing sips of said coffee despite hating it, making a face like she’d just licked the bottom of a shoe every time. Tucker, the only one with some sense, was slowly munching on a hashbrown, eyes half-lidded in that special I am here, but not really way.
Then, the doors slammed open.
A scarecrow-looking dude stalked in, tattered coat billowing, voice dripping with ominous intent. “CITIZENS OF GOTHAM! YOU WILL ALL BE INFECTED WITH MY FEAR TOXIN! SOON, YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES WILL—”
"Yo! Cool Straw Man cosplay!"
The villain stumbled .
And then it happened.
Nerds. So many nerds. Descending like seagulls on a dropped french fry.
“Dude, that detail on the mask is insane!”
“Can I get a pic with you?!”
“What kind of glue did you use for the stitches? I love the distressed look!”
Jonathan Crane—actual, literal Scarecrow—stood frozen in place as camera flashes started going off and con-goers pushed in closer, absolutely vibing with his “cosplay.” His bag of fear toxin vials was momentarily lost in the chaos as someone asked him to pose “menacingly” for a group shot.
Danny, sipping his coffee, squinted at the scene and muttered, “Y’know, I think we just witnessed a crime being neutralized through sheer convention energy.”
Tucker hummed, unimpressed. “Eh. Classic Amity luck.”
Sam, still gagging on Danny’s coffee, just gave a thumbs-up.
Danny barely registered the chaos in front of him because a small, nondescript bag had rolled up to his feet. With all the casual grace of someone who had seen far weirder things in life, he bent down, scooped it up, and peeked inside.
Ooooh. Shiny little vials.
He grabbed one at random, rolling the glass between his fingers. Sam, catching sight of him from across the table, narrowed her eyes. "Danny, maybe don’t—"
Too late.
With all the caution of a man who had never learned his lesson, Danny popped the cap and took a whiff.
His pupils instantly dilated, blowing wide like a cat seeing a laser pointer. He staggered for half a second before his entire face lit up in manic excitement.
“ WOW! THIS SMELLS GOOD! ” he declared, then, before anyone could stop him—
He chugged it. The entire vial. In one go.
Sam and Tucker stared.
Then stared some more.
Then turned to look at each other, silently processing what had just happened.
Finally, with the synchronized decision-making of longtime enablers, they both shrugged, grabbed a vial each, clanked it in sympathy and knocked them back like they were at a frat party.
Scarecrow, still trapped in a nerd photoshoot, had no idea that something far worse than Batman had just been unleashed.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
The Batcave's alarm blared to life, sharp and urgent, cutting through the low hum of the Batcomputer. Bruce’s head snapped up as the alert flooded the screen— SCARECROW SIGHTED. HOSTAGE SITUATION. LOCATION: WAYNE HOTEL.
His stomach dropped. A hotel . Packed with civilians.
He didn’t waste a second.
“Signal, Nightwing,” Batman barked, already moving to suit up. “Scarecrow’s taken the hotel hostage. We need to contain the situation and secure the toxin victims. Move now .”
The comms crackled to life immediately.
“On it!” Signal confirmed, already revving up his bike.
“I’m in the hotel,” Nightwing added, the sounds of him getting ready in the background. “Any idea how bad the exposure is?”
Batman’s jaw tightened as he scanned the initial reports. Fear toxin. Standard exposure. But there was an anomaly.
Something worse .
His eyes narrowed. “There’s… an unknown variable in play. Be prepared for anything .”
He pushed down the growing unease in his gut. They had to move fast—because in Gotham, anything could mean absolute chaos.
Batman landed silently in the hotel lobby next to a stunned Nightwing, prepared for absolute terror , mass panic , and a desperate hostage situation . What he found instead was…
Chaos.
Not Gotham chaos. Not the Scarecrow-brand psychological horror chaos.
Just. Pure. Unfiltered. Nonsense .
Tucker Foley sat cross-legged in the middle of a group of nerdy teenagers, eyes blown wide and typing at lightning speed on a laptop. They were all talking in code, in computer code .
Batman barely had time to process that when—
“I HAVE PROOF!”
His head snapped toward Weston Wesley, who had, somehow, commandeered the hotel’s PA system and was now passionately presenting an entire PowerPoint on why Bruce Wayne was obviously Batman, butt analysis of each cheek to prove it.
There was even a laser pointer.
Batman’s eye twitched.
Then—
" WEEEEEEEHEEEEEEEE! "
Daniel Fenton was— dear god —dangling upside down from the chandelier, swinging in perfect circles like a possessed carnival ride. The chandelier creaked ominously with every rotation.
How.
A sudden war cry rang out.
Batman turned just in time to see Star— on a horse —barreling through the lobby and throwing a tied up man to their feet. A tied up Scarecrow to their feet
Where did she get a horse?!
And then he noticed the jungle.
The once-modest indoor garden had transformed into a dense rainforest , complete with vines, massive flowers, and what he swore was an honest-to-god parrot perched on the concierge desk.
There was no screaming. No terror. No mindless fear-driven rampage.
No.
Instead, the fear toxin victims were playing food war tag and laughing like this was the best day of their lives.
Batman exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“…What the hell did I just walk into?”
Signal landed beside Batman —only to freeze as he took in the absolute disaster before them.
Nightwing blinked, finally getting out of whatever funk he was in. “Uh. Are we sure this is fear toxin? Because this looks more like—”
“Spring break at Ivy’s,” Signal finished, eyes wide as he watched Daniel Fenton launch himself off the chandelier, do a mid-air flip, and land perfectly on the hotel’s front desk. Then, with a huge grin, he started to make cartwheels around the lobby.
As Nightwing kneeled down to take away the duck tape and untied his rogue, Batman observed the chaos.
Then, when he was finally free, Scarecrow jumped to his feet, wild-eyed and furious .
“Batman! Do your job! ” he shrieked, throwing his arms in the air. “These hooligans stole my most potent fear toxin! And what did they do?! Did they cower in terror?! Did they fall to their knees, consumed by their worst nightmares?! No! ”
He jabbed a shaking finger toward the chaos.
“They drank it like it was some kind of frat party shot! And now—” his voice cracked, completely losing its villainous gravitas, “—now they’re hacking the Pentagon! ”
Nightwing made a strangled noise as Signal clapped a hand over his own mouth, barely holding in his laughter.
Batman just stared .
Because, really, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?
Before Batman could even begin to process Scarecrow’s meltdown, the jungle in the middle of the lobby rustled .
Emerging from the dense foliage like goddamn Amazonian warriors, Sam Manson and Valerie Gray strode forward, exuding the kind of raw power that made even Batman reconsider his life choices.
Sam pointed a dramatic, accusatory finger toward the doors to the kitchens. “The lobby is now under the control of the Women of Amity!” she declared.
Valerie smirked, cracking her knuckles. “Surrender now or face total annihilation.”
From the greenery, more girls came rushing out, screaming bloody murder , armed with makeshift weapons that had no business looking that threatening.
And then—because of course this couldn’t end there—the kitchen doors slammed open .
A horde of guys came charging out, all dressed in what could generously be considered Spartan battle attire—kitchen towels as capes, colanders as helmets, wielding rolling pins and ladles like swords and spears.
The apparent leader—Dash Baxter, because of course —raised a spatula high. “ For honor! For glory! For BREAKFAST! ”
A battle cry erupted from both sides as they charged at each other.
Nightwing made a strangled noise.
Signal took an instinctive step back .
Scarecrow turned to Batman, looking exasperated beyond belief . “DO YOU SEE WHAT I’M DEALING WITH?!”
Just when Batman thought this fever dream of a morning couldn’t get any weirder , the lobby doors slammed open once again.
In stormed a very rumpled-looking Mr. Lancer, his tie askew, his shirt slightly untucked, and an expression of sheer, unfiltered exhaustion on his face. He took one long, weary look around the absolute war zone before his eyes zeroed in on the spinning blur that was Danny Fenton , still cartwheeling across the floor like a caffeinated tornado.
And then, in a voice that somehow carried the weight of judgment itself , he bellowed :
“STOP!”
To the complete and utter shock of the Gotham vigilantes—and, apparently, Scarecrow —every single Amity Parker froze in place. Mid-fight, mid-shout, mid-air . Even Danny, who was upside down at the time, somehow managed to halt all momentum before flopping onto the floor with a soft “oof.”
Silence.
Then, Mr. Lancer adjusted his shirt, smoothed down his tie, and took a deep, painfully patient breath. “Everyone, we have a scheduled tour of Gotham University in twenty minutes. Go back to your rooms and get ready .”
A collective groan rippled through the group.
“Ugh, but we just declared war!”
“Yeah, and I was winning !”
“Do we have to?”
Mr. Lancer simply arched an eyebrow.
There was a pause. Then, with the kind of reluctant obedience that spoke of years under this man’s rule, the students started sluggishly making their way toward the elevators, grumbling the entire way.
Dash muttered, “I still say breakfast was worth fighting for…”
Danny, still lying on the floor, sighed dramatically. “Man, I was having fun …”
Mr. Lancer did not dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned on his heel and approached Batman and Scarecrow with the air of a man who had long since given up on asking why things happened around his students.
Adjusting his tie once more, he gave a tired but genuinely apologetic smile. “Gentlemen,” he said, tone polite but so very done , “I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”
Signal turned to Nightwing, a huge grin stretching across his face. "I love these kids."
Nightwing let out a breathless laugh, still trying to process the absolute chaos they'd just witnessed. "Right? They're hilarious ."
Batman, on the other hand, was not amused. His frown deepened as he turned to Mr. Lancer. " What exactly just happened here?"
Mr. Lancer, looking so done but maintaining a veneer of professional politeness, turned his attention to Batman. He then cut his gaze toward Scarecrow, who was still standing there, twitching slightly, before narrowing his eyes at the rogue like a disappointed school teacher.
"The students," Mr. Lancer said crisply, " somehow found a highly caffeinated, extremely potent energy drink that sent them into a hyperactive frenzy." His tone made it very clear that this was the official version of events, and that no one was going to question it.
He adjusted his tie and added, pointedly , "But that is not going to happen again."
Batman crossed his arms. "A hyperactive frenzy," he repeated, unconvinced.
"Yes," Mr. Lancer said, not blinking. "That is exactly what happened."
Scarecrow, looking personally offended , threw up his arms. "That is not what happened! They stole my—"
" A hyperactive frenzy, " Mr. Lancer repeated , eyes narrowing further.
Scarecrow closed his mouth. And then thrusted his hands towards Signal.
“Take me away, I don't want to be here anymore”
Signal beamed . "Man, I really love these people."
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason could say, with absolute certainty, that he had never wanted to be a stalker .
A crime lord? Hell yeah.
A vigilante? Loved it.
Being Robin? Okaish, could’ve done without the trauma.
But stalker ? Nah. That was more of a Replacement thing.
And yet, here he was. Undercover at Gotham U on this fine, totally not suspicious morning. And it was definitely not because he wanted to stalk— ahem , observe —Jazmine Fenton. Nope. Not at all.
(Lies. All lies.)
Jazz, for her part, was completely oblivious to his plight. She was busy chatting with some nerds and walking ahead of the group like she was the designated tour guide. Jason was so close to casually slipping in beside her when—
“Hey, man! Hold this for me?”
A heavy weight was suddenly shoved into his arms.
Jason blinked down at—what the hell was this? A backpack ?
By the time he looked up, Danny Fenton was already gone, weaving effortlessly through the crowd like some slippery little menace . Jason barely had time to react before someone else —one of the Amity Park kids—bumped into him, sending him stumbling back.
Jazz disappeared into a lecture hall.
Jason growled under his breath.
Danny, still oblivious, reappeared next to him, looking mildly confused. “Dude, why are you just standing here?”
Jason squinted at him.
… He did that on purpose. Didn’t he?
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason tried again.
He had shaken off the weird backpack situation and was ready to casually slide up next to Jazz as the group moved toward the next building. He could already hear Replacement mocking him in his head— "Oh, big bad Red Hood is too scared to just talk to a girl?" —but whatever. He had this. Just a simple conversation. Easy.
He stepped forward—
And slammed straight into Danny Fenton, who had stopped out of nowhere to tie his shoe.
Jason barely managed to keep from toppling over, but by the time he recovered, Jazz was gone .
Jason clenched his jaw. Fine. Fine. He’d just—try again.
Jason spotted Jazz near the student center. She was leaning against a railing, looking at something on her phone. Perfect. He took a step toward her—
A door swung open right into his face.
“Whoops! My bad, man.”
Danny Fenton, again.
Jason was this close to punting the kid into next week.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
New plan. He was going to strategically position himself so Jazz had to walk past him. Foolproof.
Except Danny Fenton somehow ended up right next to him, eating an entire apple in, like, three bites. Jason barely had time to process how that was possible before Danny leaned too far back on a bench, lost his balance, and yanked Jason down with him .
By the time Jason untangled himself, Jazz had moved on again.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason was lurking— positioning himself smartly —near the library entrance when he felt someone watching him. He turned his head slowly to see Danny, a knowing squint in his eyes.
“…Dude, are you okay?” Danny asked, voice laced with suspicion .
Jason gritted his teeth.
Danny hummed. “You keep, like… showing up near my sister. A lot.”
Jason stiffened.
“I mean, hey, no judgment.” Danny shrugged. “I’m just saying, if you need to get your stalking game together, you should really talk to my friend Tucker. He’s way better at this.”
Jason’s eye twitched.
Somewhere in the distance, Jazz disappeared again .
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason finally managed to corner Jazz.
Not in a creepy way, of course. In a perfectly normal, socially acceptable way. Totally.
She was sitting in the Gotham U cafeteria, her tray in front of her as she casually flipped through a book while munching on an apple. Now or never, Todd.
He took a deep breath, ran through his pre-planned conversation starters in his head, and walked up to her table with the confidence of a man who was absolutely about to crash and burn.
“Hey—uh, hi—uh, you’re—uh—eating.”
Jazz blinked up at him, chewing thoughtfully. “…Yes?”
Jason internally screamed.
Abort. Abort. Say something cool.
“Nice… apple?”
Jazz raised an eyebrow, glancing at her apple like she wasn’t sure if she was holding one anymore. “…Thanks?”
Jason gripped the back of the chair across from her, clearing his throat. “Mind if I—uh—sit?”
Jazz, the saint that she was, smiled and gestured for him to take a seat.
Jason sat.
And immediately knocked his knee against the table, which sent her water bottle tipping over—
He lunged for it. She lunged for it. They both missed.
The bottle hit the table, bounced directly into Jason’s lap , and popped open.
Cold water everywhere.
Jason sat there, completely drenched, staring at the absolute mess he had made of his life.
Jazz?
Jazz was stifling a giggle.
Jason had never wanted to die more, and that was saying something.
But then— oh, god help him —Jazz reached across the table, resting a gentle hand on his arm as she giggled outright . “Sorry—sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”
Jason forgot how to breathe.
“Here, let me—” She grabbed some napkins, passing them to him. “That was some impressive self-sabotage. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone take themselves out that badly since Danny tried to prove he could eat an entire pizza in under three minutes.”
Jason, very aware of the warmth of her hand, choked out, “Did he win?”
Jazz snorted. “He won a trip to the hospital.”
Jason laughed. Too loud. He winced at himself. But Jazz just smiled, shaking her head fondly.
“Nice to see you finally decided to approach me, stalker” she said.
Jason blue-screened .
Just sat there, water dripping from his hoodie, brain short-circuiting.
Meanwhile, Jazz just went back to her book, still smiling.
Jason had won. He had no idea how , but he had won.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Danny lounged on the rooftop across from the cafeteria, happily munching on his sandwich as he watched Jason Todd make an absolute fool of himself .
“Oh man, he spilled her drink on himself ,” Tucker snorted, shaking his head. “That’s gotta be one of the worst attempts I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s trying ,” Sam said, smirking as she sipped her smoothie.
Danny grinned, kicking his legs over the edge of the roof. “Nah, this is perfect . Jazz likes dorks. She’ll find him endearing.”
And sure enough, right on cue, Jazz giggled and reached out to touch Jason’s arm.
Danny fist-pumped the air . “YES! Go, Jason, go! ”
Tucker joined in the cheering. “He’s in, boys! He’s in! ”
Sam clapped. “Mission success! ”
Their celebration was cut short when they all suddenly felt a presence behind them.
A very confused presence.
Slowly, they turned around—
Tim Drake stood there, blinking at them like he had no idea how they got here, why they were here, or what exactly he just walked in on.
Danny’s core purred . He probably also purred outright, who knows.
Tim blinked harder .
Tucker, on the other hand, froze , his eyes going wide as he took in the man before him. His breath hitched—his fingers twitched—his entire being practically vibrated—
And then, finally, he exploded .
“Oh my god —IT’S TIM DRAKE! THE Tim Drake! CEO of Wayne Enterprises, hacker extraordinaire , coffee addict legend ! This is amazing ! Sir, can I just say—”
Danny and Sam groaned as Tucker launched into the nerdiest, most Tucker rant ever about WayneTech security updates, board meetings, and the absolute state of Gotham’s cybersecurity .
Tim?
Tim just stood there. Processing.
Danny chomped down on his sandwich. This was so not his problem.
Tim hesitated for a second before finally asking, “Can I sit with you guys?”
Danny grinned and patted the empty space between him and Tucker. “Sure, gorgeous. Join the club.”
Tim cautiously took a seat, still glancing between them like he was trying to figure out if they were a threat, a mystery, or just plain weird .
“So,” he started, “how exactly did you all get up here?”
Danny shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich. He knew this roof had like, no available human access but he wasn’t going to reveal all his secrets, cute guy or not. “Same way you got up here.”
Tim narrowed his eyes slightly before sighing. “Touché.”
Sam snorted. “You’re taking this pretty well.”
Tim crossed his arms. “I have the slight feeling your answer will give me an aneurism.”
Sam grinned. “Oh man, you are fun.”
Tim smirked “Am I?.”
Danny swallowed his bite and leaned forward. “Of course, you are snarky, you will fit right here with us any day”
Tim seemed to blush darkly at that, but still accepted the compliment with strides.
“That aside” Danny pointed towards the cafeteria “what’s your opinion on Jason trying to awkwardly flirt with my sister?”
Tim blinked, then turned to look at the cafeteria window where Jason was still—very poorly —trying to impress Jazz.
“…That’s what he’s doing?” Tim asked, baffled.
“Yeah,” Danny nodded. “That’s his A-game .”
Tim watched for a moment longer as Jason fumbled his fork, nearly knocked over Jazz’s drink (again), and then tried to play it cool by leaning on the table—only to miss and almost fall over.
Tim slowly turned back to Danny and deadpanned, “That’s painful to watch.”
Sam smirked. “Yeah, but Jazz loves it .”
Tucker nodded sagely. “Jason Todd: living proof that confidence is a scam.”
Tim just sighed and rubbed his temples. “I need more coffee.”
Danny took one look at Tim rubbing his temples and grinned. “Aww, don’t stress, handsome. Wrinkles aren’t a good look on you.”
Tim froze at having Danny unadulterated attention on him. Sam choked on her drink. Tucker wheezed .
Danny, completely unbothered, propped his chin on his hand and continued, “But if you are feeling stressed, I give great massages. Real magic hands. Could work out all that tension in your shoulders.”
Tim made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a dying hard drive . His face immediately went red. “I—uh—what—”
“Oh my god,” Sam said, staring at Danny like she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re actually worse than Jason.”
Tucker grinned, pulling out his PDA. “Hold on, I gotta record this for science.”
Tim sputtered. “Wh—I—That’s not—!”
Danny smirked, leaning just a little closer. “Something wrong, Tim? You look a little warm. Need me to cool you down?”
“I—” Tim shot up so fast he nearly lost his balance. “I need more coffee.”
As he fled , Sam and Tucker howled with laughter.
“Oh dude ,” Tucker wheezed. “You broke Tim Drake!”
Sam smirked, nudging Danny. “So, is this gonna be a thing now?”
Danny grinned, watching Tim practically speed-walk away. “Oh, absolutely .”
He hated to see him go, but he absolutely loved to watch him leave .
Notes:
Dani, sneaking into the batcave: huh, this is a cool crib!
Orphan, looking at the baby ghost: Robin bait!
Chapter 4: Friday Afternoon: Red Hood’s Tactical Tights
Chapter Text
They hadn’t meant to break into the lab.
It wasn’t technically breaking in if the door was unlocked, right? Right. That’s what Danny was going with.
Danny and Tucker had been casually strolling through Gotham U, minding their own business (for once), when they spotted the most beautiful sight—an empty lab filled with cutting-edge tech and actual quantum anomaly equations scrawled across the whiteboards.
Naturally, they walked in.
Look, they weren’t criminals , but leaving unsolved quantum problems just lying around ? That was practically an invitation .
Danny grabbed a marker and immediately started correcting one of the equations, muttering, “Wow, they really butchered this part. No wonder they’re stuck.”
Tucker, already at the nearest computer, snorted. “Yeah, this interface is prehistoric , but I bet I can make it work. Just give me a sec—”
Thirty minutes later, Danny was halfway through rewriting a theory on spatial destabilization, and Tucker had absolutely hacked into the system—not for anything illegal , just to make things run better .
That’s when the door opened.
The moment students started pouring in, Danny and Tucker froze.
The lab, which had been blissfully empty just minutes ago, was suddenly full —students chatting, setting up notebooks, and generally acting like they belonged there. Which, okay, they did. But Danny and Tucker ?
Not so much.
Then, a professor—a distinguished professor, judging by the graying beard and the tweed jacket that just screamed academia—spotted them and instantly lit up .
“Oh, fantastic! You must be the NASA representatives! The guest speakers for the advanced technology and quantum anomalies seminar,” he said, approaching them eagerly. “We were starting to worry you’d gotten lost.”
Danny and Tucker exchanged a glance.
There were so many ways this could go wrong.
But also? So many ways it could go right .
Tucker barely hesitated before adjusting his glasses, smoothing down his hoodie like it was a lab coat, and holding out a hand. “That’s us! Doctor Tucker Foley, expert in technological advancements and AI integrations.”
Danny smirked and gave a two-finger salute. “Doctor Danny Phantom, specialist in quantum field anomalies and interdimensional stabilization.”
The professor beamed. “Wonderful! The students are so excited to learn from you.”
Danny’s smirk widened. “Oh, don’t worry, Professor. We’ve got a lot to teach.”
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Stephanie had been minding her own business, really. Just walking out of her general psychology class, thinking about what snack to grab before patrol, when something caught her eye.
She passed by one of the labs, took a few more steps… then stopped.
Then backtracked .
Because what the hell?
Inside the lab, standing at the whiteboard like he belonged there, was none other than Danny Fenton.
He wasn’t just standing there, either. Nope. The guy was casually explaining something complicated —something that made the group of students around him (who, by the way, looked way too old and way too smart) nod along like he was making perfect sense.
She pulled out her phone, snapped a picture, and fired it off into the Batgroup chat.
Stephanie: look who I found 👀
It took less than five minutes for the chat to explode.
Tim: why is he in a lab?
Jason: why is he teaching a lab?
Dick: why is he wearing a lab coat???
And then, the kicker—
Barbara: …That equation on the board? The one he just underlined the answer? That’s a mathematical mystery NASA’s been trying to solve for a decade.
Stephanie stared at her phone. Then back at Danny, who was now grinning as he underlined something with a flourish.
Then back at her phone.
Then back at Danny.
“…What the actual fuck ?”
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason had been enjoying his walk with Jazz through the psych department, doing his best to seem totally cool and not at all whipped as she talked animatedly about one of her upcoming projects.
And yeah, sure, maybe he wasn’t actually listening to every word—because, well, Jazz —but he was definitely invested in her and the way she got so passionate about her field.
Then she sighed.
Jason blinked and turned his attention to where she was looking.
A group of Gotham U students sat clustered around a table, deep in conversation, but at the center of it— of course —were the jocks .
Specifically, her jocks.
Dash Baxter and his little gang of Amity meatheads, all grinning like they were up to something.
“Oh boy,” Jason muttered. “That looks like trouble.”
Jazz groaned, already steering them toward the table. “Whenever the jocks are left alone without their designated babysitters, it is trouble.”
Jason smirked. “And you’re their babysitter?”
She gave him a flat look. “The cheerleaders.”
Jason just chuckled, because yeah, that tracked. But still, he couldn’t help but be a little curious. What exactly were they up to this time?
Jazz stopped dead in her tracks. Jason, now fully intrigued, leaned over her shoulder to get a better look.
On the table, spread out like the world’s most cursed Pokémon card collection, were snapshots of Gotham’s vigilantes.
Not just any snapshots, either—these were high-quality , well-framed , and even had descriptions printed neatly underneath.
Jazz picked one up.
"Red Hood’s Tactical Tights – A rare close-up shot capturing Gotham’s resident angry gunman in all his… form-fitting glory. (5/5 for intimidation, 10/10 for aesthetic.)"
She raised an eyebrow and slowly turned to Jason.
He stared at it, stared at her, then visibly fought the urge to bury his face in his hands.
Meanwhile, Dash proudly held up another card.
“Nightwing’s Legendary Ass – The Holy Grail of Gotham candid shots. Perfect lighting, unparalleled angles, this card is a must-have for any collector.”
A Gotham U student gasped. “No way! You actually got the Legendary Ass card?”
Dash smirked. “Damn right I did. Cost me two Red Robins and a rare Orphan-in-action shot, but totally worth it.”
Jason choked. What the actual hell was he witnessing?
Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate all of you.”
A student sitting across from Dash grinned. “You say that, but you haven’t even seen the full collection yet.”
He casually flipped through his cards and revealed another one.
"Red Robin’s Dramatic Rooftop Pose – A rare mid-action shot of Gotham’s nerdiest vigilante caught in peak acrobatic form. (Grace: 10/10, Brooding Factor: 8/10, Overall Performance: Chef’s Kiss.)"
Jason wheezed.
Jazz groaned louder.
And somewhere deep in his soul, Tim Drake sneezed.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Dan had taken Dani to the Wayne Botanical Garden since, for identity-related reasons (mainly the fact that neither of them had a valid ID), they weren’t exactly welcome on Gotham U’s campus.
They were wandering through the greenery, enjoying the quiet, when Dani suddenly tugged on his sleeve.
"Hey, check it out," she whispered, nodding toward a pathway ahead.
Dan followed her gaze—and smirked.
Strolling casually through the garden were Nightwing and Robin in full civilian mode, deep in conversation and completely unaware of their audience.
Dan smirked, glancing down at Dani, who was busy licking the last bits of her ice cream cone like it held the secrets of the universe.
“We have options,” he mused, his voice a low rumble.
Dani, not looking up, hummed. “Uh-huh.”
Dan continued, eyes locked on the unsuspecting Nightwing and Robin as they strolled through the park. “One: We pretend we don’t see them and go on with our day.”
Dani licked her fingers. “Boring.”
“Two: We mess with them, make them chase us, give ‘em a little workout.”
Dani perked up. “More fun.”
Dan’s grin widened. “Three: I seduce the pretty bird and remind him what he’s missing.”
Dani groaned, finally looking up at him. “Gross. I hate this option.”
Dan ignored her. He rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck as he eyed his target. He had managed to get the bird in his bed last night with the mask on, maybe he could achieve the same without the mask? He wanted to see his eyes when he made him reach the sky.
“You coming?” he asked Dani, already starting toward the pair.
Dani huffed, throwing her napkin into a nearby trash can. “Fine, but if you start making bedroom eyes , I’m out.”
Dan laughed. “Deal.”
And with that, they moved in.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Damian watched in mild disgust as his brother was thoroughly outrizzed by one of their targets. Richard had been holding his own at first, but now he was locked in what could only be described as a battle of bedroom eyes with Dante Masters—and he was losing .
Damian had seen many shameful things in his life, but watching Nightwing get reduced to a flustered mess by some smirking, half-feral man was bordering on unbearable.
Then, he felt a small tug on his jacket.
He turned, meeting the equally exasperated gaze of Danielle Masters. She leaned in slightly, voice low as if sharing a secret.
"Wanna go play with my puppy?"
Damian didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes,” he said immediately, because of course he wanted to meet the most amazing creature on Earth.
Dani grinned, pleased with his response. “Cool. Let’s ditch the lovebirds before they start making out in front of us.”
Damian grimaced. “Agreed.”
With one last look at Dick—who was now laughing a little too breathlessly at something Dante had purred at him—Damian turned on his heel and followed Dani away from the unfolding disaster.
“Tell me about this puppy of yours,” he demanded as they walked.
Dani’s grin widened, eyes practically sparkling. “Oh, Cujo? He’s the best. Big, fluffy, has the cutest growl, and can phase through walls.”
Damian stopped dead in his tracks. “Excuse me?”
Dani stopped too, blinking at him. “Oh yeah, forgot to mention. He’s kinda technically a ghost dog.”
Damian stared at her, processing this. A ghost dog.
“…I must meet him immediately,” he declared.
Dani fist-pumped. “Awesome. Let’s go before our brothers start dry-humping in the middle of the park.”
And with that, the two youngest of their respective families ditched their siblings and set off toward what Damian was quickly considering the most important meeting of his life.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
As was almost routine in Gotham, Gotham U found itself under siege during one of its busiest hours. Black Mask’s goons flooded the campus, planting bombs and taking hostages with the efficiency of criminals who had done this far too many times before.
The Batfamily mobilized immediately, prepared to handle yet another hostage situation, but by the time they arrived, something unexpected had happened.
The hostages were already free.
Not because of a tactical strike, not because of a heroic intervention—no, they had simply walked out. And standing in the middle of the chaos, calmly addressing the remaining goons, was Jazz Fenton.
She wasn’t fighting. She wasn’t threatening. She was just talking. And somehow, somehow , she had de-escalated the entire situation through sheer conversational prowess alone.
From their vantage point, the Batfamily could only stare in dumbfounded silence as hardened criminals, who had been fully prepared to commit acts of terror minutes ago, now stood looking… sheepish. A few even looked guilty. One of them was nodding solemnly, as if Jazz had just given him a very insightful TED Talk on the consequences of poor life choices.
Jason, watching from the shadows where he had gone to take cover to change as soon as the criminals had flooded into the cafeteria, slowly turned to Duck. “Is she negotiating their way out of a crime spree?”
Duke, equally stunned, nodded. “I think she just therapized the hostages out of being hostages.”
Stephanie, perched beside them, beamed. “This is absurd.”
Tim, snapping pictures for evidence, muttered, “This is amazing .”
And as the Batfamily tried to process what they were witnessing, Jazz Fenton continued her work, chipping away at Gotham’s criminal underbelly with nothing but words.
That’s when, as if they were a highly trained black ops unit with years of experience under their belts—and not a bunch of teenagers from nowhere , Illinois—the rest of the Amity Parkers came into view.
They moved with eerie coordination, like this was just another Tuesday for them.
Some carried the tied-up goons who had stubbornly resisted Jazz’s weaponized therapy . Others hauled in what appeared to be deactivated bombs, handling them with the casual ease of someone carrying grocery bags. And at the center of it all, Danny Fenton and Valerie Grey strolled in, dragging behind them a very unconscious, very tied-up Black Mask .
The Gotham rogues' Black Mask.
The Batfamily collectively tensed.
And yet, the Parkers looked utterly unconcerned. Like they weren’t currently hauling in a top-tier crime lord like it was trash day.
Even more baffling, a pile of weapons had been neatly stacked in the corner—rifles, pistols, even a few knives—all disarmed, all untouched. Not a single bullet had been fired.
Jason, watching this unfold, whispered, “I am so in love right now.”
Tim, still taking notes, muttered, “I have so many questions.”
And, as if this day couldn’t get any stranger, Mr. Lancer suddenly stepped onto the scene, adjusted his tie, and loudly clapped his hands.
“Alright, children! That’s quite enough vigilante nonsense for one day. We have a schedule to keep. Back to the buses!”
And, like this was the real authority figure in the room, the Parkers all groaned but obediently started filing out— completely ignoring the Batfamily still standing there in shock.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Damian had so many questions.
But all of them could wait—because right now, he was having the best day of his life.
At the moment, he was riding a dog.
Not just any dog, though. Cujo, the glowing, green, ghost dog , who had apparently decided to supersize himself into horse dimensions for maximum chaos. Damian gripped the scruff of Cujo’s fur as the massive canine phased through trees , sprinting at full speed through Robinson Park.
Ahead of them, Danielle Masters was cackling as she dashed between trees, effortlessly weaving through the terrain like this was just a casual jog. She held up a handful of dog treats, wiggling them tauntingly over her shoulder.
“Come on, Cujo! You can do better than that!” she teased.
Cujo barked—a deep, echoing sound that sent a thrill down Damian’s spine—before kicking it into overdrive, blurring after her at a speed that no biological dog should be capable of.
Damian was elated.
This was it. This was the peak of existence. Nothing could top this.
And to think—this little menace of a puppy had been cat-sized not even ten minutes ago.
Damian had no idea how he had ended up in this situation. But one thing was for sure:
He was never going back to normal dogs again.
When Cujo finally managed to catch Danielle, he launched himself at her with all the enthusiasm of an overgrown puppy. She yelped as she went tumbling to the ground, but her laughter never stopped—not even as Cujo slobbered all over her hand, stealing the treats right from her fingers.
Damian barely had time to process before Cujo gave a full-body shake , sending him toppling off his back with a very undignified oof!
And, of course, because the universe clearly had it out for him, he landed right on top of Danielle.
She howled with laughter, practically wheezing beneath him, while Damian took a second to reassess his life choices.
With a grumble, he rolled off her and sat up, brushing ghostly green dog fur from his jacket. Danielle, still giggling, sat up next to him, unfazed.
Cujo, ever the drama king, let out a contented huff before flopping his enormous head onto both of their laps, his glowing tail thumping happily against the ground.
It was heavy . But neither of them made him move.
Danielle hummed and started scratching behind Cujo’s ears, and Damian followed suit, running his fingers through the dog’s strangely weightless fur.
For a moment, the world was quiet . Peaceful.
Damian still had a lot of questions.
But maybe… they could wait a little longer.
Chapter 5: Friday Night: Vengaboys are back in town
Notes:
Tumblr posts used in this chapter:
Also the song "We like to party" and
"Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!!". Both from Vengaboys
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Friday night greeted Gotham with something the city hadn’t expected— a moment of actual peace.
The planetarium was hosting its exclusive Stars & Gala Night, an event that only happened once in a blue moon (pun entirely intended). Tickets had sold out months in advance, making it one of the most sought-after cultural events in Gotham.
And, of course, because Danny could never miss a show about stars, the Amity Parkers had somehow secured tickets for the whole group.
Not everyone had been thrilled about it at first. Some complained about the price, others about exhaustion, and a few ( cough Dash cough ) had outright declared that they "didn’t care about some stupid stars."
But then Danny had recruited the cheerleaders to his cause.
Between their enthusiasm for dressing up, their persuasive charm, and their ironclad stance on the event being an "all or nothing" situation, suddenly everyone was on board.
Because, well—no one said no to the cheerleaders.
Danny was practically vibrating with excitement as he dragged Tucker and Sam—who had, in turn, latched onto Valerie—through the planetarium like a hyperactive puppy chasing a shooting star. Every time he spotted a new display, he gasped dramatically, nearly yanking his friends off their feet in his rush to get a closer look.
"Look at this!" Danny exclaimed, pointing at a sleek, silver rock encased in glass. "It's a meteorite fragment from the Alpha Centauri system! Do you have any idea how rare this is?!"
Sam, still trying to regain her balance from Danny’s sudden stop, adjusted her dress and sighed. "Yes, Danny. I read the plaque."
"That’s what plaques are for," Tucker added dryly, adjusting his glasses. "So normal people don’t have to yell about it."
Danny either didn’t hear or chose to ignore them. Instead, he gasped again and bolted toward another exhibit, nearly dragging Sam with him before she dug her heels into the carpet. Unfortunately for Valerie, that just meant she was now the one being hauled forward.
"Hey!" Val protested, stumbling forward in her heels. "Could you not —"
"GUYS!" Danny interrupted, eyes wide with wonder as he pointed at another display. "It’s a piece of an asteroid that passed by Mars! Mars! Do you know how rare—"
"You just said that," Sam grumbled, yanking her wrist free.
"You’re like an overexcited puppy," Tucker said, shaking his head.
Behind them, Wes Weston followed at a more leisurely pace, arms crossed as he eyed the exhibits with an entirely different kind of interest. "You know," he mused, loud enough for the group to hear, "it’s kinda funny how a private corporation like Wayne Enterprises just so happens to have all this alien material lying around. Almost like someone’s been collecting it from Justice League space missions."
Danny, who had his face practically pressed against the glass of an exhibit showcasing a crystalline shard labeled Extraterrestrial Unknown Origin , laughed. "That’s ridiculous," he said, waving a hand dismissively in their usual song and dance. "Wayne Corp has plenty of money. They could’ve just, you know, bought it from a government agency or something."
They all knew he was just engaging to keep the people around them off their conversation, even if Wes doubled down on his theories.
"Sure, sure," Wes said, nodding like he wasn’t convinced in the slightest. "And I’m supposed to believe that Batman doesn’t have access to all this space tech? Because this? This looks an awful lot like the Kryptonian crystal that Superman keeps in the Fortress of Solitude."
Valerie, who had not been paying attention to the conspiracy theorist trailing them, finally turned around with a frown. "Wesley"
"I’m just saying!" Wes held up his hands defensively. "Wayne Enterprises is one of the only private companies that conveniently has access to all this space junk, and coincidentally , Batman always seems to know way too much about alien threats before anyone else. And now, here we are, at a fancy gala, staring at artifacts that could definitely have been collected on Justice League missions."
Danny huffed, rolling his eyes. "Wes, for the love of the stars , could you give it a rest?"
Wes smirked. "Sure. Just as soon as you explain why Wayne Corp has a rock that looks suspiciously like it came from Thanagar."
Sam groaned, rubbing her temples. "I knew bringing him was a mistake."
Danny, however, was already off again, dragging Tucker this time as he spotted yet another display that sent him into a fresh wave of excitement. Valerie sighed, resigning herself to her fate, while Wes followed with a knowing look.
This was going to be a long night.
As if summoned by the script, the grand doors to the planetarium swung open, letting in a flood of flashing camera lights. In perfect synchronization, Bruce Wayne stepped into the gala, flanked by Tim Drake and Cassandra Cain, the latter of whom had Stephanie Brown hanging off her arm like they were royalty making an entrance. Their presence sent an instant ripple through the crowd.
Guests gasped, murmurs spread like wildfire, and within seconds, the wealthy elite and social climbers of Gotham all but swarmed them, eager for a moment of the Wayne family’s attention.
The Amity Parkers, however, barely reacted.
Instead, they turned almost in unison to Danny, watching him with silent expectation, as if waiting for some unspoken signal. Were they in danger? Was this one of those rich guys? The kind who might spontaneously decide to build a personal space laser or declare war on an entire ecosystem?
Danny barely spared the Waynes a glance before going back to looking at a model of a black hole’s event horizon. That was all the confirmation they needed.
With a collective shrug, the Amity kids went right back to what they were doing, entirely ignoring Gotham’s most famous family.
After all, everyone in Amity Park knew that millionaires equaled deranged, fruitloop-level insanity. Best to stay far, far away.
Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne was a man who prided himself on his ability to manipulate a room. He could blend in with the elites, intimidate criminals, and negotiate with gods.
He could absolutely get a group of teenagers to talk to him.
Or so he thought.
His first mistake was assuming that his kids would help. "Go mingle with the Parkers," he instructed, watching as Tim immediately recoiled like Bruce had just suggested he eat a live bat.
"I'm not going," Tim declared, crossing his arms. "You’re not getting what you want."
Stephanie and Cass, who were sharing a drink, both side-eyed him before taking a synchronized sip and saying, "Sod off."
Bruce sighed. Fine. If his ex-Robins wouldn’t help, he’d do it himself. How hard could it be?
He approached a small group of Parkers, cleared his throat in his most charming billionaire way, and opened his mouth to introduce himself—
"Eugh, no. "
Bruce blinked as the group promptly turned and walked away.
Alright. That was unexpected.
Undeterred, he tried again with another group.
"Hello, I was wondering if—"
" Ugh, please no. " They didn't even look at him before leaving.
Another try.
"I just wanted to—"
" Buddy, we don’t want whatever you’re selling."
At this point, Bruce could hear his kids snickering behind him. Steph was recording. Cass was straight-up cackling. Tim was clutching his stomach, barely breathing between wheezes.
And yet, Bruce persisted.
Again and again, the Parkers evaded him, shutting him down with varying levels of disinterest, disgust, and the sheer power of "not my problem."
Until he realized something.
They were herding him.
With expert precision, the Parker kids had subtly, deliberately, unstoppably maneuvered him across the room—like well-trained black ops agents in the art of teenage avoidance—until he found himself standing right behind Daniel Fenton and his group.
They were gathered around a model of a spacecraft, deep in an animated discussion.
Bruce frowned. He had been played.
And worse—his kids were never going to let him live it down.
Bruce approached Daniel Fenton, smoothly inserting himself into their conversation with the confidence of a man who had successfully infiltrated literal alien civilizations.
"I’m just saying," Danny was gesturing wildly at the display, "if we theoretically wanted to fly this thing into the sun—"
"You don’t want to fly into the sun," Sam deadpanned.
"— hypothetically, " Danny insisted, rolling his eyes, "how close do you think we could get before it combusts?"
Bruce, sensing his opening, put on his best Brucie grin and slid into the conversation like a man who hadn’t just been ruthlessly bullied by a group of teenagers for the last ten minutes.
"Well," he said, flashing a dazzling smile, "this particular model was actually designed by WayneTech, so I might know a thing or two about its capabilities."
Danny’s eyes lit up. Not in awe. Not in admiration. But in the way someone senses weakness in their prey.
"Oh? You might know a thing or two?" he repeated, cracking his knuckles in a way that was definitely not necessary for asking questions.
Bruce barely had a second to regret his life choices before—
Rapid. Fire. Questions.
"Okay, so what’s the heat resistance rating on this thing?"
"How many shields does it have? Is it layered protection or single-tiered?"
"How’s it handling radiation exposure?"
"Are the thrusters designed to work in extreme gravitational pull? What about solar wind resistance?"
"Would you say it’s more efficient than the Justice League’s last deep-space model, or are we looking at another ‘crash and pray’ scenario?"
"Speaking of crashes, does this have the same emergency fail-safes as the Batplane, or will it spontaneously self-destruct if someone looks at it funny?"
Bruce barely had time to breathe between each question. Every answer he tried to give just led to more interrogation. The rapid-fire assault continued, and little by little, he could feel his carefully crafted socialite persona slipping—
Until finally, completely exasperated , he snapped, "Look, we haven’t tested it in the sun because no one is supposed to fly it into the sun!"
Silence.
Then—
" So you’re saying there’s a chance? " Danny grinned.
Bruce closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through his nose.
Bruce, finally regaining control of the conversation (or so he thought), narrowed his eyes at Danny. "So… Amity Park," he started, tone casual in a way that immediately put the entire group on high alert. "I’ve been hearing a lot about it lately. A town full of… unusual occurrences. Interesting abilities. Meta-humans, even."
Danny beamed at him. "Oh yeah, it’s crazy out there. Just the other day, I saw a guy juggle three raccoons and a live car battery. Didn’t even drop them."
Bruce blinked. "That’s… not what I meant."
"Oh, right, sorry. You must be talking about Old Man Jenkins. Yeah, he’s been doing that for years. It’s like, his thing. "
"I—no. I’m talking about the fact that Amity Park has an unusually high rate of unexplained phenomena. Strange energy readings. Reported sightings of—"
Danny gasped dramatically. " You’ve seen the Corn Ghost?! "
"The—what?"
"The Corn Ghost!" Tucker jumped in. "He haunts the cornfields just outside town. Every harvest season, he rises, demanding his tribute in exchange for a good yield. He only accepts buttered popcorn though, never plain."
Bruce stared. "You can’t be serious."
"Of course we are," Sam added solemnly. "One time, a kid tried to offer him kettle corn instead. We still don’t know where he went. "
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. " That’s not— "
"But if you’re not talking about the Corn Ghost," Danny interrupted, looking thoughtful, "maybe you’re asking about the Possessed Lawn Flamingos. "
Tucker shuddered. "Ugh, those things. You think pigeons are bad? Try getting dive-bombed by an angry pink plastic bird with nothing to lose."
Bruce’s eye twitched. " No, I’m not asking about flamingos, or ghosts, or—"
"Oh! Oh! Wait, you must mean the Sentient Vending Machine! " Danny smacked his fist into his palm. "That thing hates people, but if you compliment it just right, you might get a free soda. Might. "
" I am trying to ask about the meta-humans in Amity! "
"Man, I wish I was meta," Danny sighed. "That would be so cool."
Bruce exhaled sharply. "There are records of people in Amity walking through walls, disappearing, flying—"
Danny waved him off. " Pfft. Fake news. You can’t trust the media, man. One time they reported that Dash Baxter got abducted by aliens."
Tucker nodded sagely. "He wishes he got abducted. Those were just regular cosplayers."
Bruce’s patience was wearing thin. "So you’re saying there’s nothing unusual about Amity Park?"
Danny shrugged. "Nothing more unusual than Gotham. I mean, we don’t have a guy in a bat suit running around punching people. "
Bruce opened his mouth. Then shut it.
" Checkmate, " Tucker whispered.
Bruce, still valiantly attempting to wrestle back control of the conversation, took a deep breath. “Alright,” he said, leveling them all with his best Batglare. “And what about the media blackout happening in your hometown then.”
Danny tilted his head. “Media blackout?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. The fact that no major news outlets report on your town. That online information about Amity Park is suspiciously lacking. That any attempt to dig deeper results in vague, contradictory reports or outright disappearance of data.”
“Ohhh,” Danny said, nodding. “Yeah, that checks out. Classic Media Gremlins. ”
Bruce paused. “… Media Gremlins? ”
“Yup,” Tucker jumped in, adjusting his glasses. “Tiny little suckers. They live in the internet cables and eat any and all attempts at journalism. It’s why no one knows what happened to the final episode of Firefly. ”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “That is not —”
“Oh wait, no, he might be talking about the Time We Lost Thursday, ” Sam interrupted.
Bruce’s head snapped up. “…What?”
“You don’t remember?” Danny asked. “Yeah, a few years back, Thursday just didn’t happen. We all went to bed on Wednesday, woke up, and it was Friday. Whole town agreed to never talk about it.”
Tucker nodded solemnly. “Except Old Man Jenkins. He remembers. ”
Danny shuddered. “Yeah. But he won’t say what he remembers. Just mutters about ‘ Them. ’”
Bruce inhaled sharply. “You cannot seriously expect me to believe—”
“Oh! Or maybe it’s the Invisible Librarian Conspiracy, ” Danny mused.
Bruce groaned. “ The what— ”
Sam crossed her arms. “Think about it: Have you ever actually seen a librarian leave the library? Have you ever met a retired librarian? No. They just vanish after a certain age.”
Tucker nodded. “I tried taking a picture of the librarian at our high school once. The photo came out blank.”
Danny sighed dramatically. “One time, I asked where they go when they retire. The librarian smiled at me. That was three years ago. I still have nightmares.”
Bruce stared at them. His kids were recording this. He could hear Stephanie laughing from across the room.
Finally, exasperated beyond belief, he said, “ Can any of you give me a straight answer?”
Danny tapped his chin, then grinned. “Sure. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”
Danny turned to him, beaming. “You gotta wingman me with your son.”
Bruce blinked. “What?”
Danny pointed across the room—straight at Tim.
Tim, who had been very much listening in, immediately choked on his coffee. He had been lurking at the edge of the conversation, keeping an eye on Bruce's attempt at interrogation, but now he was regretting every single life choice that had led him to this moment.
" Excuse me?! " Tim sputtered, slamming his coffee cup down as he coughed.
Bruce turned to look at him, then back at Danny. “That one?”
Danny nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. The tired one. I want a date.”
Tim’s eye twitched. “I—What—That’s not—You can’t just—” He turned to Bruce, eyes wide with barely restrained horror. “You are not seriously considering this.”
Bruce, without missing a beat, turned back to Danny.
“…Deal.”
Tim’s jaw dropped. “WHAT?!”
Danny fist-pumped. “Sweet.”
Tucker and Sam high-fived.
Bruce patted Tim’s shoulder. “I believe in you, son.”
Tim buried his face in his hands as Stephanie, from somewhere across the room, cackled.
Bruce’s frown deepened as he turned back to Danny. “So. About these ghosts…”
Danny’s grin stretched wider, sharp and wicked. “What ghosts?”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “The ones you mentioned.”
Danny snorted, rocking on his heels. “There are no ghosts in Amity Park.” His grin turned outright mischievous as he suddenly hooked his arm around Tim’s and started dragging him away with confident strides. “Anyway, good talk, Bats! Tim and I have a date to plan.”
“Wait—” Tim tried to protest, but Danny was surprisingly strong for someone who looked like he subsisted on coffee and spite.
Bruce opened his mouth to call after them when a new voice cut in.
“OH! That reminds me!”
Bruce turned, only to find himself face-to-face with a grinning redhead who radiated unhinged energy.
Wesley Weston.
Danny had sacrificed him.
“You see,” Wes continued, eyes gleaming with manic glee, “I have some thoughts on why Superman is actually the journalist Clark Kent. And boy do I have the evidence to back it up!”
Bruce sighed as the absolute madman pulled out a binder. He looked around, trying to find a way out of this just to feel his heart drop. Samantha and her girlfriend had smoothly integrated themselves into Cass and Steph’s orbit, chatting and exchanging sharp grins. The other kid, Tucker? was currently being spirited away by a group of Amity Park cheerleaders, who were huddling around him and whispering in low, conspiratorial voices. He looked both terrified and intrigued.
Meanwhile Tim, still very much dragged by Danny, was rapidly realizing his night had taken a turn he was woefully unprepared for.
“…I can walk, you know,” he muttered, but Danny just hummed in response, not slowing down.
“Yeah, but you might try to run.”
Tim glared at him. “Not might . Definitely. ”
Danny grinned at him, completely unbothered. “Aw, c’mon, Birdie. Don’t you wanna see just how good your dad is at wingmanning?”
Tim groaned, his face looking as red as Jason’s helmet .
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Somewhere across Gotham, Dick Grayson was having the most bizarre night of his life.
It had started normally enough. Well, as normal as things could be when his latest fling—who had already outrizzed him both as Nightwing and as Dick Grayson—had invited him out.
Which was why he was now standing at the top of Wayne Tower, in full Nightwing gear, sparring. Because apparently, that was just how things went when you dated someone from Amity Park.
He dodged a punch and rolled his eyes. “You know, most people go on dates to restaurants , or the movies—”
Dan just grinned at him, a little too sharp. “Sounds boring.”
Dick swung his escrima sticks into a block, sliding back from the force of the impact. “Right. And throwing hands on a rooftop is romantic ?”
Dan smirked. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
Dick opened his mouth—then promptly closed it. Damn it. He hated when people used his own logic against him.
Still, the spar itself wasn’t even the weirdest part. No, the weirdest part was that apparently everyone from Amity Park already knew the Batfamily were the Waynes.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around that ,” Dick said, dodging another strike. “How did you guys even figure it out?”
Dan just shrugged. “It’s not that hard. You all have the same vibes.”
Dick stopped mid-movement. “Vibes.”
Dan grinned, lunging forward. “Yeah, the ‘I dress in spandex and fight crime’ vibes. You reek of it.”
That was so unfair.
And probably true.
Dick groaned. This night was giving him a headache.
They kept sparring, dancing around each other in a deadly, teasing rhythm—like a fight, but also like a game. Dick had to admit, Dan was good. Not just strong, but fast, calculated, and cocky as hell . Every move came with a smirk, every dodge with a taunt, every hit landed with a smug little chuckle that made Dick want to both punch him and kiss him.
Then it happened.
Dick had just aimed a sweep at Dan’s legs, but the bastard jumped , flipping mid-air and landing on top of him . They tumbled to the ground, and when Dick opened his eyes, he was flat on his back with Dan braced over him, both hands pinning Dick’s wrists down, knees caging him in.
The smirk Dan gave him was downright predatory. “Y’know, if you wanted me on top of you, you could’ve just asked.”
Dick swallowed. Oh.
Dan leaned in just a fraction closer, voice dipping into something darker, rougher. “Or maybe you like the fight first? Like to be thrown around a little before getting pinned ?” His grin widened at the way Dick’s breath hitched. “Yeah, I thought so.”
Dick’s brain short-circuited. He was a grown man, he had been in plenty of relationships, had heard all sorts of things whispered in his ear before—but something about Dan’s voice, his gaze, the way he looked at him like he wanted to eat him alive—
Yeah, Dick was gone.
With a grin of his own, he surged up, yanking Dan down by the collar, and kissed him like he was in a fight—teeth, tongue, and all the frustration and tension between them burning into something else .
Dan laughed into the kiss, low and victorious, before flipping them over so he was the one on his back, pulling Dick down with him. “See?” he murmured against his lips. “Told you you liked it.”
Dick just rolled his eyes and kissed him again.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
In another part of town, crime was being committed. Specifically, zoo-related crime . Specifically, Damian and Dani breaking and entering Gotham Zoo at two in the morning.
Technically, technically , it wasn’t a crime if your intentions were noble. That’s what Dani kept telling Damian, anyway.
“We’re not stealing them,” she whispered as she picked the lock on the back gate with a precision that was both alarming and impressive. “We’re just… liberating them.”
Damian crossed his arms, watching her work. “That’s what all criminals say.”
Dani scoffed. “Yeah? Well, what do you think PETA would say about Gotham keeping an African elephant in this weather? Huh? Bet they’d be so proud of us.”
“Tt.” Damian wasn’t about to argue with that. The enclosures were pathetic , and Gotham was no place for half the species locked up inside. Still. “There are proper procedures to relocate animals.”
“Boring procedures,” Dani corrected, finally getting the lock open. “Besides, you’re just mad I got here first.”
“That is absolutely not—”
But she was already inside, sprinting toward the enclosures like an over-caffeinated cryptid, and Damian had to rush after her before she did something truly reckless.
They made it about ten minutes before things got… out of hand.
Specifically, before Dani found the habitat for the big cats .
“Oh my gosh, look at this guy,” she whispered reverently, crouching by the fence of a very large, very unimpressed-looking tiger. The tiger stared back, clearly contemplating whether or not it was worth the effort to maul them.
“Dani,” Damian hissed, dragging her back. “Are you trying to die ?”
“I’m just saying,” she muttered, still watching the tiger, “he could be happier somewhere else.”
Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “You cannot just release a tiger into Gotham.”
“Of course not,” she agreed, as if she hadn’t just broken into a zoo with that exact intention. “We’re taking him to India .”
Damian’s soul left his body . “Are you listening to yourself?”
Before Dani could answer, a low growl rumbled from the shadows behind them. Both of them slowly turned—
—To see Cujo , in full, oversized ghost-dog form, standing face-to-face with the tiger.
There was a beat of silence. The tiger blinked. Cujo wagged his tail.
Then—
“OH SH—”
The tiger lunged , Cujo barked , and suddenly, the two of them were play-wrestling like overgrown kittens, knocking over a fence and freeing at least three more animals in the process.
Damian and Dani both turned to each other in sync.
“…Run?” Dani offered.
“Run.”
And so, they ran .
Dani was cackling as she sprinted across the enclosure, leading a pack of very excited lions in an impromptu game of tag. She’d dash ahead, waving her arms wildly, and the lions would chase after her like oversized housecats before she spun around and clapped her hands—sending them skidding to a stop, confused but very invested in the game.
Meanwhile, Damian had bigger problems.
Namely, a full-blown cheetah panic attack .
The poor things were curled up in the corner of their enclosure, their tails twitching, eyes darting frantically like they had just realized they were free in Gotham . Which, to be fair, was exactly the kind of existential horror that should give any living creature a panic attack.
With an exasperated sigh, Damian crouched down and released their emotional support dogs—because of course Gotham Zoo had emotional support dogs for their cheetahs, and of course they hadn’t been properly reunited. Within seconds, the cheetahs calmed down, snuggling up to their fluffy companions like the world wasn’t actively falling apart around them.
"Tt. Finally. "
Behind him, Cujo had successfully pinned down the tiger and was standing over it like a victorious wrestler, tail wagging furiously. The tiger, for its part, had decided that being dominated by a green ghost dog was a problem for future-tiger and had resigned itself to its fate.
And then—
A distant crack echoed through the air.
Damian’s head snapped up just in time to see Dani, mid-victory lap, skidding to a stop as something very large loomed over her.
The elephant.
It had finally broken out .
And it did not look like it planned on staying put.
Dani, still catching her breath, looked up at the enormous animal. Then at Damian. Then back at the elephant.
“…So, technically, this is not my fault .”
Damian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“ Dani. ”
“It’s not !”
The elephant trumpeted loudly, stomping forward.
"Okay, fine, it's kind of my fault—"
The lions took off after it, Cujo barked excitedly, the cheetahs started screaming , and Damian accepted that he was, indeed, going to die in the dumbest zoo heist Gotham had ever seen.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Jason had successfully snuck into the gala—not because he wasn’t invited, but because he was Jason Todd, and “supposed to be somewhere” and “should arrive through the front door” had never stopped him before from entering through the backdoor in a disguise. He adjusted his tie, scanned the room for Jazz, and—
Oh.
Oh, this was golden .
Bruce was sitting on a chair, head in his hands, looking like he had aged at least ten years . In front of him, a redhead—Wes, if Jason remembered the name correctly—had repurposed a whole-ass whiteboard , complete with red string , to present a detailed, borderline obsessive murderboard on why Green Arrow was actually just Oliver Queen with a hobby.
Jason didn’t even hesitate .
He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to the Bat groupchat with the caption:
Jason: Bruce got bested by a teen.
Not even a second later:
Tim: Serves him right after setting me up on a date.
Jason blinked. Stared at his phone.
Jason: ???
Jason: What do you mean he set you up on a date.
Tim: .
Tim: Nothing.
Jason: Nothing my ass.
The rest of the ex-Robins immediately joined in, roasting both Bruce in rapid succession.
Dick: LMAO Bruce really got folded like an old lawn chair.
Steph: RIP Boomer Dad. You had a good run.
Duke: Wes is literally the kid who shouts “that’s Phantom” at Danny Fenton in every picture. Bruce should’ve known he had no chance.
Damian: Todd, tell Father I am disappointed in him.
Jason: Already implied.
Jason snorted, shoving his phone back into his pocket. As hilarious as this was, he had a much more important mission—
Find Jazz.
Preferably before she got involved in the murderboard madness.
When Jason finally spotted Jazz by the snack bar she was looking annoyingly stunning in that deep red dress that made his brain short-circuit. She was sipping on a drink, eyeing the chaos in the room with the kind of tired patience that said she was two seconds away from dragging someone out by the ear.
Then her gaze landed on him .
Jason had faced death itself , had stared down Gotham’s worst, had once been punted off a building by Killer Croc. None of that compared to the way Jazz’s face lit up when she saw him.
Before he could even get a word out, she grabbed his arm and—
“We’re leaving.”
Jason barely had time to process before she was dragging him out of the gala with the strength of a woman who was so done with rich people nonsense. He blinked, stumbling slightly. “Wait, what—”
“The actual planetarium,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.
Jason’s brain went blank. His mouth went dry.
Oh.
Oh, they were going on a date .
Not just any date. A watching the stars together date. The most romantic kind of date.
His heart did something stupid in his chest. His knees felt weak .
He was swooning .
Like a damn Victorian lady .
If he weren’t so overwhelmed by his own overwhelmingly intense feelings, he might’ve been embarrassed. But then Jazz squeezed his hand just a little tighter, and all Jason could do was follow after her, totally and completely gone for this woman.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
The doors had barely finished swinging close when a full battalion of goons came pouring into the gala like it was a damn action movie. Next to Tim, Danny blinked, completely unbothered , and let out an amused snort.
“Wow. Gotham does know how to have a good time.”
And then absolute chaos.
The Amity Park crew reacted with the kind of speed and coordination that made Tim’s Bat instincts look sloppy. A pair of football players flipped a table, using it as a battering ram to charge the goons with the most firepower. The cheerleaders launched each other into the air like this was a choreographed battle routine, complete with cheers about kicking ass..
Some nerds dove into a janitor’s closet and somehow, somehow , built a fully functional trebuchet in under a minute.
A trebuchet.
One of the goth girls, who had been lurking in the corner all night, casually roundhouse kicked a goon into the next dimension. Tim could have sworn that a whole rift in spacetime opened for her to kick the man inside.
Danny turned to Tim, completely unbothered, and patted his shoulder. “Anyway, why don't you guys let us handle it since it is your night off.”
Tim was about to protest, but Danny was already vanishing into the fray. He flitted between the goons like a damn ghost, effortlessly swiping weapons and disassembling them with terrifying efficiency.
Meanwhile, Sam, who had also reassured Steph and Cass that this was a fine fun friday , was following behind him, smacking down anyone who so much as thought about grabbing Danny with a stolen rope stand.
Tucker, because of course he did, had taken up a sniper position behind a flipped table, launching pencils at the goons with a makeshift bow made out of a binder and rubber bands— with pinpoint accuracy .
(Videos of him would eventually end up in Star City where the Arrow’s clan would be thoroughly impressed by the kid. Oliver will even ask Bats who this kid was and if he could get his contact info)
Tim shuffled to the back where Steph and Cass were drinking mojitos. He turned to Steph, who was gripping his arm with barely-contained laughter.
“Tim. Tim .” She gestured wildly at the battlefield. “ Are you seeing this? ”
Cass just kept filming, completely unbothered.
Tim sighed, rubbing his temple as he watched one of the nerds catapult a goon across the room with their unholy trebuchet.
Yeah.
Gotham might be bad .
But Amity Park seemed worse .
Bruce skidded to a stop next to his kids, eyes wide as he took in the battlefield.
Wesley had somehow commandeered the microphone and was calmly instructing the Gothamites —who were rapidly realizing they were way out of their depth —on how to get to the nearest exits or, if escape wasn’t possible, where to bunker down in the safest spots.
The speakers were playing We like to party from the Vengaboys on repeat
But what really caught Bruce’s attention was Mr. Lancer .
The chaperone .
A high school English teacher .
And yet, the man was flitting through the battlefield like he’d been doing this for years , smoothly pulling kids out of harm’s way before they even noticed the danger, tucking the injured behind overturned tables, and—most bafflingly—whacking goons over the head with a disproportionately effective textbook whenever the opportunity arose.
It was a beautifully bound hardcover , and Bruce was fairly certain it had a Shakespearean tragedy inside.
"Are you seeing this?" he asked, voice flat .
Tim, still watching in horrified fascination , just nodded.
The Amity Parkers were laughing between coordinated attacks, their voices ringing out in unison two distinct chants.
"We're not trapped in here with you, you're trapped in here with us."
And
“ We like to party, we like, we like to party”
Bruce turned slowly to look at his children.
Steph had a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with barely-contained laughter.
Cass had not stopped filming .
Tim just exhaled through his nose, pinched the bridge of it, and muttered, “I told you.”
By the time the police finally stormed into the gala, weapons drawn and ready to handle a full-blown hostage situation, they found something… different.
The goons? Tied up in what could only be described as an art installation of despair.
Some were duct-taped together like unwilling friendship bracelets. Others had been stacked into a precarious human pyramid that would collapse the moment someone sneezed too hard. One unfortunate soul had been stuffed headfirst into a garbage can, legs kicking uselessly.
And the Amity Parkers? They were already cleaning up.
Football players were stacking broken chairs into neat piles. The cheerleaders were reassembling the ruined snack table like a well-trained strike team. The nerds had somehow deconstructed their makeshift trebuchet and were handing janitorial supplies back to a very stunned Wayne Enterprises employee.
It looked less like a crime scene and more like a very bizarre , slightly traumatizing school event.
Danny, grinning, turned toward the gathered Waynes. “Sooo…” He rocked back on his heels, tone far too casual. “You think Batman should make an appearance? Y’know, to smooth things over? Maybe get us off the hook so we can go back to the hotel before midnight?”
Bruce squinted at him.
Tim, standing beside him, immediately snorted.
Steph was dying behind them, barely holding in her laughter.
Cass? Cass had not stopped recording.
Bruce let out a slow, controlled breath. “…You aren't normal teens.”
Danny just smiled wider. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Wayne.”
Bruce closed his eyes. He needed a vacation.
Notes:
Danny: -Being dragged away by his friends to the bus that will take them to the hotel, making phone signals to Tim- Call me!!
Steph: do you have his number?
Tim: no, but I will get it even if is the last thing I do
Chapter 6: Saturday Morning is Joker time
Notes:
Prompts used in this chapter:
Jazz was minding her own buisness when Joker led Batman down the street she was walking down.
Picture this: Lancer sees one of the student with The Joker.
Cujo VS Joker
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Saturday morning brought a new kind of chaos to Gotham.
Mr. Lancer, stepping out of the hotel with a fresh coffee in hand, immediately froze. There, on the sidewalk, one of his students was standing with the actual, real-life Joker.
The clown prince of crime was waving his arms wildly, making grand, violent gestures as if preparing for some dramatic act of villainy. The student—Mikey, a stick-thin, quiet kid who looked like a strong breeze could take him out—stood there, looking about as impressed as a man waiting for his laundry to finish drying.
Lancer blinked. Took a slow, measured sip of his coffee. Squinted.
Yep. That was Mikey. The same Mikey who did well in class. The same Mikey who was dating Rebecca from band. The same Mikey who was apparently on casual speaking terms with Gotham’s most infamous lunatic.
Before Lancer could even process how this became his life, Batman swooped onto the scene. Cape billowing, eyes sharp, posture prepared for something .
Then Lancer did what no one expected.
He leaped between his student and the Joker.
"Mikey, no!" he said, voice rich with exhausted authority. “We are guests in this city! You don’t need to hurt this man! He doesn’t get it, remember?”
The Joker, actual agent of chaos, faltered. His exaggerated motions slowed. His painted-on grin turned puzzled.
Mikey? Mikey rolled his eyes. “Mr. Lancer, I wasn’t gonna do anything.”
Batman, still crouched in a dramatic landing pose, slowly straightened. He had no idea what the hell was happening, but considering what the A-lister Amity Park kids had pulled off the night before, he was not about to underestimate this random band kid.
Lancer huffed. “Mikey, we’ve talked about this. Just because someone is being a menace doesn’t mean you need to handle them.”
Mikey muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "That's literally what we do all the time."
Meanwhile, the Joker—a man who had fought Batman for years —was still standing there, thoroughly bewildered at the fact that this random teenager and his teacher seemed to be discussing whether or not he needed a beatdown.
“…Is no one gonna scream?” the Joker finally asked, looking between them. “Or panic? Or at least look vaguely concerned ?”
Batman exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it. He needed coffee before dealing with this.
As Mr. Lancer herded his student away, the world around them finally caught up. The Joker and Batman were fighting. It was ferocious, it was intense, and it was full of unnecessarily dramatic flips.
Finally, Gotham reacted properly. People screamed, ran for cover, and did all the normal things one should do when faced with a psychotic clown brawling with a billionaire in a bat suit.
Balance was restored.
Which meant, of course, it wouldn’t last.
Jazz, meanwhile, was minding her own business. She was walking back to the hotel, coffee in hand, ready to continue her self-imposed role as the only competent chaperone for Danny’s field trip.
Then, like some cruel cosmic joke, Batman and the Joker's fight spilled right into her path.
The Gothamites around her scattered like roaches under a kitchen light. Unfortunately, the mass panic meant people were running in every direction, causing more chaos than they were avoiding.
Joker, predictably, took advantage.
“You can catch me, or you can save them! Make your choice, Batsy!” he cackled, pulling the pin on a grenade and tossing it directly into the scrambling crowd.
Batman lunged for it, but—unfortunately for him—Jazz was closer.
She didn’t think. She just grabbed it.
The second her fingers closed around the grenade, it exploded.
Right in her hands.
Batman grunted in alarm as debris kicked up, the explosion contained entirely in her grip. The Joker stared.
The crowd was fine.
The Joker was not.
Neither was Batman.
Jazz blinked down at her now-smoking hand. Huh. That… had been very stupid in hindsight.
Joker, to his credit, squinted at her like he was trying to see past reality itself.
“…Well, that’s not supposed to happen.”
Batman did not say anything.
Jazz glanced at him. Then at the Joker. Then back at Batman.
The silence stretched.
“…I can explain,” she offered lamely.
She absolutely could not explain.
So, like any Fenton who had inherited a bad situation, she made a choice.
She shoved the grenade shrapnel into Batman’s hand, turned on her heel, and ran.
“I DO NOT get paid enough for this,” Batman muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, Jazz pulled out her phone. She should probably text Mr. Lancer and let him know she might be late. Just in case Gotham’s most tenacious detective decided to interrogate her before breakfast.
Then, like a freaking guided missile from absolutely nowhere, Danny launched himself into the scene.
One second, the Joker was still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. The next, he was drop-kicked in the chest with the force of a feral, wet alley cat.
Danny didn’t stop there. Oh no.
He punched. He kicked. He clawed. He went full gremlin mode on Gotham’s most infamous clown, brawling like a possessed raccoon.
Batman and the entire city of Gotham stood there, watching. Processing.
Even the Joker, between blows, looked confused.
Where had this kid even COME FROM?
Not long after, reinforcements arrived.
A swarm of cheerleaders—Paulina, Tiffany, and Mia, if Batman’s sharp detective memory was correct—rushed in, attempting to pry Danny off the battered clown.
"Danny, stop!" Paulina gasped, grabbing his arm.
“LET ME GO!” Danny hissed, thrashing in their grip. “IT’S A CLOWN!! LET ME GO!!”
Tiffany and Mia barely managed to keep his feet from landing more kicks.
Then, Sam and Valerie arrived.
Valerie, looking both resigned and deeply entertained, helped secure one of Danny’s legs before he could punt the Joker into the afterlife.
Sam, meanwhile, sighed, adjusted her gloves, and threw Danny over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Danny continued to snarl.
Sam did not care.
And so, with five extremely determined Amity Parkers working together, Danny was successfully extracted from the very real crime scene he had just chaotically inserted himself into.
The Joker groaned, blinking up at Batman. “...Okay, what the hell is in the water over there?”
Batman had no answers.
Only questions.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Meanwhile, somewhere in Gotham…
The most bizarre breakfast in the history of breakfasts was happening.
Dani sat at a small, cozy café table with Catwoman, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy.
And they were eating pancakes.
Like normal, law-abiding citizens.
Harley excitedly cut into a stack of strawberry-topped pancakes, humming a tune as she dunked a bite into an obscene amount of syrup.
"Kid, ya gotta try these!" she said, gesturing with her fork. "They're fluffier than a baby hyena’s butt!"
Dani, who had absolutely no idea how she had ended up here, shrugged and took a bite of her own pancake.
“…Huh,” she admitted. “That is a good pancake.”
Ivy, delicately sipping on a matcha latte, nodded in approval. “Finally. Someone with taste.”
Selina, who had been idly scrolling through her phone, smirked as she glanced at Dani. "So, kid. How'd you end up running with those chaotic maniacs from Amity Park?"
Dani, mid-bite, paused.
“…That’s a long story.”
Selina chuckled. "Sweetheart, I’ve got time."
Harley beamed. "Ooooh! Is it a fun story? Does it involve explosions?"
Dani snorted. "Of course it does."
Ivy sighed. "Of course it does."
Selina just grinned wider.
Suddenly, Dani’s kid phone rang.
She barely glanced at the screen before picking up.
A familiar, overly smug, and perpetually unwelcome face appeared on the video call.
Vlad Masters.
Before he could even say a word, Dani grinned wickedly.
“Hey, Fruitloop! How are yah?” she chirped, way too cheerfully for whatever he was expecting.
Vlad opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him get a word in.
“I’m doing great! ” she continued. “You know, just hanging out with some better mom figures than you could ever be to me.”
Then, without hesitation, she turned the camera around—
And showed him Gotham’s deadliest rogues casually enjoying pancakes.
Harley waved enthusiastically.
Ivy raised a judgmental eyebrow.
Selina winked and blew a kiss at the screen.
Vlad’s entire face contorted into pure boredom.
“ Very well, but I sent you to be with Danie- ”.
Dani just grinned wider. “Anyway! Gotta go, brunch with the besties! Byeee~”
And then she hung up.
Selina smirked. “That was adorable. ”
Harley cackled. “Ohhh, I like this kid.”
Ivy just sipped her latte. “I don’t even know what just happened, but I approve.”
Selina, still smirking, leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Dani with undisguised amusement.
“You know, kitten,” she purred, “I think you’d fit in just purrfectly with my little team of strays.”
Dani blinked. “Huh?”
“You know,” Selina said, gesturing vaguely, “a place to belong, a family of rogues, some—”
“Oh, that’s nice!” Dani interrupted brightly. “But I’m more of a dog person.”
There was a beat of silence.
Ivy choked on her coffee.
Harley had to
physically restrain
herself from cackling.
Selina’s
entire expression
froze, her eye twitching slightly as she processed the
blasphemy
she had just heard.
Then, suddenly , she sat back, crossed her arms, and declared:
“Well, too bad. We’re adopting you.”
Dani shrugged. “Sure! I can always use more family.” She grinned and took another bite of her pancakes before adding, completely oblivious to what she had just unleashed “My brother-dad is gonna love you guys.”
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
The thunderous cry of "FETCH, CLOWN!" shook Gotham to its very foundation , bouncing off buildings and echoing through alleyways like some kind of divine proclamation.
Batman had just finally —after what felt like a lifetime of suffering—shoved the Joker through Arkham’s front doors when it happened.
Out of nowhere , a gigantic green dog materialized, teeth bared, eyes glowing, and lunged.
The Joker barely had time to let out a startled, high-pitched "WHAT THE FU—" before the monstrous pup chomped down on his coat and, with zero hesitation, bolted.
Joker’s screams—high and warbling—faded into the distance as the glowing hellhound from the deepest pit of chaos itself bounded away with his prize, leaving a trail of dust, dread, and pure disbelief .
Batman stood frozen , gears turning, processing the absolute absurdity of what had just happened.
Then, as if summoned by the collective will of Gotham’s chaotic gods, Cujo’s joyous bark rang through the night.
…And Batman sighed.
Then ran.
Because apparently, this was his life now.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Barbara took a long, long sip of her coffee, eyes locked onto the absolute madness unfolding across her screens.
Next to her, Tim had also stopped mid-sip, his cup hovering just below his lips as they both silently watched.
The cameras had picked up the most insane game of chase Gotham had ever witnessed—and considering this was Gotham , that was saying something .
On screen, Batman—The Dark Knight, the pinnacle of discipline and strategy, Gotham’s sworn protector—had latched onto a radioactive, glowing green dog the size of a small horse.
Said eldritch beast was currently playing an enthusiastic game of tug-of-war… with the screaming Joker as the rope.
“Babs,” Tim said, voice absolutely devoid of emotion. “Are we sure I didn’t drug my own coffee? Because this feels like a fever dream .”
Barbara didn’t answer, just adjusted the feed to get a better angle of Batman literally hanging off Cujo’s side, one arm looped around the dog’s neck while his free hand tried—futilely—to pry Joker from Cujo’s massive jaws.
The unhinged cackling of the Joker mixed beautifully with Cujo’s gleeful barking as they tore through Gotham at breakneck speed, leaving absolute devastation in their wake.
At one point, Batman flipped himself onto Cujo’s back, gripping tightly as Cujo did a barrel roll over a moving car, narrowly avoiding a very confused taxi driver.
Joker: “I REGRET EVERYTHIIIIING—”
Cujo: “BARK BARK BARK!!”
Batman:
[gritted teeth intensify]
Tim casually took out his phone.
“I’m texting Dick.”
Barbara finally spoke. “Make sure to tell him to check the traffic cams. This is going in the Batcave’s hall of shame .”
Notes:
Batman: Give the joker back
Cujo making a hole on the park: BARK!
Batman: The joker is NOT a bone!
Cujo throws the joker into his hole and covers him up while the joker laughs like bloody murder: BARK!
Jason:
Jason: wow. A dog has done more for my traumas than my own family somehow
Chapter 7: Saturday Afternoon and the Musical Episode
Notes:
I was dared to do a musical Episode so here it is.
Songs used for this chapter:
I wanna be like you (the monkey song)
Jailbreak song
Pink Pony Club
House of the Raising Sun
Girls just wanna have fun
DTMFThe songs come from me looking on the TOP timeless 100 on Spotify and one or two came from my zumba class
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As always, Gotham couldn’t have a quiet Saturday afternoon.
Not when the Music Meister decided to make an appearance.
He stood dramatically atop the restaurant where the Amity Parkers were eating, striking a flamboyant pose against the skyline like he was about to drop the greatest album of the century. With a flourish, he let out a powerful first note—his unmistakable calling card.
“🎶The Music Meiser🎶”
A ripple of magic spread through the air.
Suddenly, everyone—from terrified Gothamites to very confused waitstaff—was on their feet , swaying uncontrollably as the compulsive need to dance took over their bodies.
Some screamed in terror as their limbs betrayed them, chaotically flailing in a mix of resistance and begrudging groove. Others were just frozen in horror as they moonwalked against their will.
Meanwhile, the Amity Parkers—instead of panicking—just looked around at each other with matching, feral grins.
"Oh hell yeah," Tucker cackled, immediately pulling out his PDA to record this absolute gift of a moment.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Dash Baxter grabbed a spoon off the table, spun around, and—channeling his inner jazz performer—belted out:
Now I'm the king of the swingers, ohh—🎶
The jungle VIP~🎶
The other Parkers immediately jumped in, seamlessly falling into a choreographed Broadway-level performance as if they had trained for this exact moment their entire lives .
Danny, twirling Sam effortlessly, laugh-laughed as he swung her into an exaggerated dip.
“What is happening?!” he asked, beaming as he spun her back up.
Sam just grinned wildly, grabbing his hand and flipping him around.
“I don’t know, but it’s AMAZING!” she declared before expertly passing him off to Tucker—who, unfortunately for him, got dipped aggressively in return.
By the time Signal arrived—breathless, confused, and already mid-dance thanks to Music Meister’s power—the Amity Parkers had taken over the street, fully immersed in the performance.
🎶Oh, oobee doo
I wanna be like you
I wanna walk like you
Talk like you, too🎶
And, to Gotham’s absolute horror, they were having the time of their lives.
"DON’T WORRY!!" Signal screamed heroically as he leaped onto the scene. "I AM HERE TO RESCUE YOU!!"
The Music Meister scoffed, dramatically adjusting his coat as he eyed Duke with pure disdain.
"Save them?" he sneered, flipping his hair. "From what, exactly? The sublime joy of artistic expression ? My dear boy, you can’t save people who don’t want to be saved."
He gestured grandly to the Amity Parkers, expecting cheers of approval.
Instead, there was an awkward beat of silence.
Then, as one, the Amity Parkers turned to face Signal—expressionless, unmoving.
And then they started BOOING.
Loudly.
Aggressively.
With a level of commitment that was honestly kind of impressive.
“BOOOO, SIGNAL!!”
“Get a load of this fun police!”
“YOU’RE KILLING THE VIBES, MAN!!”
Duke froze.
"Wait—wha—??" he stammered, completely blindsided as half-eaten food started raining down on him.
Before he could even begin to process the pure betrayal of the situation, the Amity Parkers made a move that no Gothamite—not even Music Meister—had been expecting.
They stopped dancing.
Like a switch had flipped, the Parkers half-turned, looking at each other with an unspoken agreement that seemed to transcend the need for words.
Then, with synchronized precision, a group of them grabbed Music Meister—like he was a rock star stage diving into a crowd—hoisting him above their heads in a collective grip.
"WAIT, WHAT—?!" Music Meister screeched as they sprinted off at full speed, carrying him away like a stolen Amazon package.
Duke barely had time to react.
The remaining Amity Parkers kept booing, throwing the rest of their half-eaten food at him with ruthless accuracy before booking it in the opposite direction.
By the time Duke finally managed to shake off the hot dog bun stuck to his visor, he realized—
The Parkers were GONE.
And worse—
They had taken the Music Meister HOSTAGE.
Duke stood there, drenched in mustard, absolutely bewildered by the sheer audacity of what had just transpired.
"What is this life?" Duke muttered to himself, staring into the abyss.
Halfway across the city—specifically over Arkham Asylum—the Music Meister was unceremoniously dropped from what could only be described as way too high up for comfort.
THUD.
"OW— RUDE! " he screeched, struggling against the ridiculously tight ropes binding him like an overzealous birthday present. He wriggled, glaring up at his captors. "You Philistines! You hacks ! You utter buffoons ! Do you even appreciate the theater of what I do?!"
Silence.
And then—
A disco ball hat was plopped onto his head.
The Music Meister blinked.
"Oh. Oh , you monsters—"
And then, to his horror, he did his thing.
The spell kicked in.
Dash—still wielding his spoon like it was Excalibur—immediately took center stage, throwing his arms out dramatically as he belted into song:
🎶 Warden threw a party in the county jail—
The prison band was there and they began to wail
The band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing
You should've heard those knocked out jailbirds sing 🎶
The Amity Parkers exploded into motion.
Like a flash mob on steroids , they broke into synchronized choreography, climbing the walls, dangling off windows, and swinging from ledges—all while dressed in striped prisoner shirts that none of them had been wearing before but now definitely were.
Somehow.
It was complete chaos.
And yet, it was also eerily well-coordinated.
They slid down Arkham’s entrance railings in perfect swing-dance formations. They jumped onto fences, shook the bars like they were yearning for freedom , and even formed a chorus line across the roof.
Dick Grayson, who had just been there in his nice civilian officer clothes, dropping off a B-list villain, stood completely gobsmacked.
He did not move.
He did not blink.
He just stared at the absolute circus unfolding before him.
A teen pirouetted past him, tipping an imaginary hat.
🎶 Let's rock
Everybody, let's rock
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock 🎶
Dick just whispered under his breath, "What the actual f—"
As Batwoman grappled onto the scene, she landed with a smooth roll, immediately scanning the absolute nonsense happening before her.
Her eyes snapped to Dick, who was still standing there, shell-shocked, as if his brain had fully blue-screened. He blinked at her, slowly raising a hand in a wave.
Kate narrowed her eyes. "...Should I even ask?"
Dick just motioned vaguely toward the Amity Parkers, who had just finished their dance-off and were grinning like absolute menaces.
Kate took one look at them and, with the authority of someone who had spent years dealing with Gotham’s absolute worst, took a deep breath.
"Alright, fun’s over. Hand over the Music Meister—"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Kate flinched as a chorus of outrage erupted from the Parkers.
"YOU CAN'T TAKE OUR JUKEBOX!" someone shouted.
"HE STILL OWES US A FINALE!"
"SING! SING! SING!"
Kate just stared. What. The. Hell.
Before she could even think to pull out a Batarang, the Parkers had already hoisted the screaming Music Meister onto their shoulders like a rock star.
"NO! NO, YOU UNCULTURED BRUTES! SOMEONE, SAVE ME—!"
And then—
They bolted.
Like actual greased lightning, they scattered in all directions, zipping past Batwoman so fast that by the time she turned around—
They were gone.
No footprints. No traces. Nothing.
Just an empty street, a confused Batwoman, and a still-stunned Dick Grayson.
Kate exhaled sharply through her nose.
"What. The. Hell. "
Dick, after a long moment, sighed.
"Yeah. Welcome to my week."
The next time the Parkers were sighted, it was on the rooftops of the Financial District, barely ten minutes after their miraculous escape.
How did they get there so fast? No one knew.
Not the civilians below, who were staring in absolute bafflement.
Not the security teams, who were getting whiplash tracking their movements.
And certainly not the Batclan, who were starting to question reality itself.
This time, the Music Meister looked significantly less distressed, mostly because he was now sporting a marvelous pink cowboy hat and appeared to have just given up entirely.
But the real show?
Dash Baxter.
In the most angelic falsetto Gotham had ever witnessed, he stepped forward, raised his arms, and belted—
🎶 I know you wanted me to stay
But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA
And I heard that there's a special place
Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day🎶
And like clockwork, the Parkers fell into a synchronized routine.
Theatrics. Choreography. A level of energy that should have been illegal.
Because somehow—somehow—
Every single one of them was dressed as a pink cowboy.
(There had been a debate. Rodeo clowns had been an option. Danny vetoed it instantly.)
And so, as Gotham’s elite stood frozen in absolute disbelief, the Parkers performed a rooftop rendition of ‘Pink Pony Club’ with all the enthusiasm of a Broadway finale.
🎶 Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club
I'm gonna keep on dancing down in
West Hollywood 🎶
Meanwhile, Tim Drake stood in the Wayne Enterprises CEO office, coffee cup frozen halfway to his lips, watching the absolute madness unfold from his vantage point.
The pink cowboy hats.
The fully choreographed rooftop performance.
The fact that the Music Meister was now actively harmonizing.
Tim had seen a lot of weird things in his life. This? This was top five, easily.
He could call for help. He should call for help.
But—
He tapped his fingers against the desk.
This was "Pink Pony Club."
One of his queer icons made this song.
And damn it, he wasn't going to lie—it kinda slapped.
He took a long, slow sip of coffee.
"...Maybe just one song," he muttered.
When Jason Todd's phone buzzed, warning him that the Parkers had been spotted in Park Row, he barely batted an eye.
Yeah. That tracked.
He already knew they were in some kind of musical madness, and he already knew they had kidnapped the Music Meister.
What he didn't expect was the full-blown Wild West aesthetic they had somehow managed to pull together in under an hour.
Park Row—his turf—was now a damn cowboy parade.
🎶There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
Dear God, I know I was one🎶
Jason stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the sheer spectacle before him.
The Parkers, dressed head to toe in cowboy-era clothes, were riding actual horses (where the hell did they even get those?), dragging carts down the street like they were in some kind of ghost town festival.
And there, standing tall on top of the biggest cart, a massive hand-painted sign labeled "SHERIFF" proudly displayed, was Dash Baxter, holding a damn acoustic guitar like he was Johnny Cash reborn.
Next to him, Music Meister, looking both terrified and resigned, was begrudgingly singing along as Dash belted out a hauntingly passionate rendition of "House of the Rising Sun."
Jason rubbed his eyes.
Nope. Still there.
He pulled out his phone, hit record, and sent it to the Batgroup chat with only two words:
"Come get your kids."
And after sending that video, Jason life change forever.
Because Jason Todd was a lot of things.
A fighter, a tactician, a dead man walking, and—by all accounts—a pain in Bruce’s ass.
But at this moment?
He was just a man hopelessly in love.
Because Jazz Fenton—dressed in a pretty, vintage cowgirl outfit that honestly made him feral —had just walked right up to him, taken his hand in hers, looked him dead in the eyes, and said,
“Wanna help me save a horse?”
Jason's brain short-circuited so violently that he was pretty sure he just blue-screened.
His mouth moved before his mind caught up.
"Yes. Vehemently, yes."
He didn’t even hesitate.
Meanwhile, in the Batgroup chat, the rest of the Batfamily had just noticed Tim.
Timothy Jackson Drake.
Their resident workaholic detective, their most logical brother, their biggest Gothamite snob, was riding in the parade—and not just anywhere.
He was sitting in front of Danny Fenton, looking like he had just found religion.
Pressed back-to-chest against his crush? -technically Bruce had sold him into a date just the night before so… boyfriend?- arms held gently as Danny steered the horse, Tim had the dopiest, most lovestruck grin anyone had ever seen on him.
The Batfamily lost their collective minds.
Dick: TIM. TIM WHAT ARE YOU DOING.
Steph: YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO SWOON INTO HIS ARMS.
Damian:
Drake, explain yourself immediately.
Bruce:
…This is fine. Everything is fine.
Cass: 💀💀💀💀💀
Duke:
this is a fever dream. i want out.
Barbara: I HAVE IT ON RECORD. I HAVE IT ON RECORD.
Tim:
Busy. Leave me alone.
Jason:
y’all can deal with that, I got a redhead to impress.
And with that, Jason Todd pulled Jazz onto her horse and rode off into the sunset ( or at least into the next street over ), determined to live his best life.
Somewhere in the distance, Dick Grayson was once again faced with the fact that Gotham would never let him rest.
Because there, barreling down the highway at over 100 mph, was a bright red convertible, the top down, the wind roaring through the city—
And inside it?
None other than Catwoman, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Danielle Masters.
The stereo was blasting at full volume, the entire car a chaotic mess of laughter, reckless driving, and absolute insanity.
Harley was standing up, half out of the car, screaming “WHOOOOOOO!” into the wind.
Ivy looked far too smug, arms crossed, enjoying the mayhem.
Selina was driving like she stole it—which, let’s be honest, she probably did.
And then there was Dani.
Sitting on the backrest with her hands in the air like she had never feared death in her entire life while singing.
🎶 Girls, they want, wanna have fun
Girls, wanna have
They just wanna, just wanna
Just wanna have fun
Girls, just wanna have 🎶
Dick, standing frozen on the rooftop, just stared.
“…You know what?” he muttered to himself.
“Not my problem.”
And with that, he turned around and pretended he hadn’t seen a damn thing.
Batman had seen many strange things in his life. He had fought aliens, time travelers, and eldritch horrors.
But this?
This was new.
He had barely stepped out of Wayne Enterprise when he looked up and saw the entire Amity Park student group perched on top of his building and the surrounding rooftops, quietly watching the sunset.
It was… peaceful. Almost.
Except for the fact that Music Meister was softly crying in the background.
And the fact that Dash Baxter and the rest of the Parkers were singing in perfect Spanish, harmonizing like a well-rehearsed choir:
🎶 Debí tirar más fotos de cuando te tuve
Debí darte más beso' y abrazo' las vece' que pude
Ey, ojalá que los mío' nunca se muden
Y si hoy me emborracho, pues que me ayuden 🎶
Batman’s eyes narrowed as he stalked toward them, his cape billowing behind him. When he got close enough, he sniffed the contents of one of their red Solo cups.
…Water.
Just water.
He didn’t know whether to be relieved or more concerned.
“Alright,” he finally said, arms crossed. “What exactly is going on here?”
Danny, who was leaning casually against the ledge like he wasn’t a menace to society, turned his head, smiled, and said,
“Shhh, Bats. We’re having a moment.”
Batman took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.
Tim had the audacity to snicker as he remained firmly tucked against Danny’s side, radiating the energy of someone who had no regrets and many life choices to reevaluate later.
🎶 Debí tirar más fotos de cuando te tuve
Debí darte más besos y abrazo' las veces que pude
Ojalá que los mío' nunca se muden
Y que tú me envíe' más nude'
Y si hoy me emborracho, que Danny me ayude 🎶
The song ended in a chorus of cheers, and for one brief, shining moment, it looked like things might actually settle down.
And then, Mr. Lancer emerged from the stairwell of Wayne Enterprises.
Bruce squinted.
How.
He hadn’t just entered the building.
He had broken into, overridden, and successfully bypassed every security measure Bruce had installed.
The only reason Bruce was only mildly concerned was because this meant the Amity Parkers were finally being corralled back to their hotel.
A resounding chorus of boos rang out from the students as Mr. Lancer herded them away like a seasoned cattle wrangler, muttering about “uncultured swine” and “detentions for the next decade.”
Batman took this opportunity to reach out and scruff Tim like an unruly kitten before he could scamper off with them.
Tim yelped, arms flailing dramatically before slumping in resignation.
Bruce stared at him.
Tim grinned nervously up at his adoptive father, shoulders stiff.
“So… uh… how deep in the shit am I?” he asked, trying for casual.
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
Tim’s grin widened.
He was so very, very grounded.
Left on the roof, the Music Meiser softly cried, begging for Batman to throw him back in jail, that he didn't want to be here anymore.
Notes:
Heartless, walking fast: Look here comes a consequence, consequence, consequence.
Dan in monstrous form chasing after him
Heartless: Consequences of my actions chasing me right now
Dan starts chasing faster.
Heartless, running faster now: I dont want this consequence, consequence consequence.
Dan growls
Heartless progressively more nervous: I dont want no consequences chasing me right now
Dan speeds up
Heartless, full running: SOMEONE TAKE THIS CONSEQUENCE, CONSEQUENCE, CONSEQUENCE
Dan running while growling and opening his maw.
Heartless: SOMEONE TAKE THIS CONSEQUENCES CHASING ME RIGHT NOW!
Dan roars.
Heartless crying: JESUS TAKE THE CONSEQUENCE, CONSEQUENCE, CONSEQUENCE
Dan jumps.
Heartless:JESUS TAKE THE CONSEQUENCES CHASING ME RIGHT NOW!!
Dan falls onto his victim roaring: This is for the prety bird!
Heartless: AAAAAHHHHH
Chapter Text
By Saturday night, things had finally slowed down.
The teens of Casper High and their long-suffering chaperones used the rare lull to unwind, knowing this was their last night in Gotham.
It was also the last night they were allowed outside.
And because they had somehow—somehow—managed to not raise the dead or accidentally commit manslaughter, Mr. Lancer had begrudgingly granted them a final night of freedom.
WITHIN REASON.
Which was how Danny found himself perched on a Gotham rooftop, sharing some suspiciously good hamburgers and fries with vigilante extraordinaire, Red Robin.
"Not bad," Danny said around a mouthful of burger, waving it vaguely in Red Robin’s direction. "Where'd you get these?"
Tim smirked behind his mask, popping a fry into his mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know, ghost boy?"
Danny squinted at him. "You're being vague on purpose."
"Yep."
Danny dramatically gasped. "Are they stolen? "
Tim scoffed. "Please. I don’t steal food. I just have... strong connections with the best 24-hour burger joint in Gotham."
Danny nodded sagely. "Blackmail, got it."
Tim grinned. "Extortion, actually. But only the fun kind."
Danny laughed, shaking his head before taking another bite. “God, I’m gonna miss Gotham.”
Tim leaned back on his hands, looking out at the city skyline. “Yeah, well… Gotham’s gonna miss you too.”
Danny snorted. “Oh please, Gotham is thrilled to see me leave.”
Tim tilted his head, smile soft. “Not all of Gotham.”
Danny almost choked on his fry.
Tim, the smug bastard, just kept eating like he hadn’t just dropped a tactical flirtation nuke.
That was, of course, when the League of Assassins decided to crash the date.
A full squad of heavily armed, extremely stabby assassins materialized out of the shadows, eyes locked on Red Robin like a pack of particularly dramatic vultures.
Danny took one look at them, threw his hands up, and started backpedaling.
"Oh my god, no, nonono, this is not my fault! I swear I did not raise the dead this time!"
Red Robin, already shifting into battle stance, paused mid-motion. " This time? "
Danny waved his arms frantically. " Not important! "
Before Red Robin could so much as throw a punch, Danny let out an exasperated sigh, grabbed every single undead assassin by the collar, and yeeted them straight into a glowing green portal.
The entire squad.
Gone.
Red Robin blinked. " Did you just— "
Danny turned slowly, leveled a serious, wide-eyed stare at him, and pointed a very stern finger.
" Not. A. Word. "
Tim opened his mouth.
Danny narrowed his eyes.
" Not a single word, Red. If my teacher finds out the dead rose while we were out here, I am going to be the one in trouble. "
Tim wisely shut his mouth.
Instead, he grabbed a fry. Because clearly, he was going to need it.
Yet, because life absolutely hated him, Danny heard a very familiar, very disappointed voice from the street below.
“I saw that, Mr. Fenton! Once you are back in school, you have detention!”
Danny let out the most pained groan known to mankind and immediately flopped onto Red Robin’s lap like a deflated balloon.
"Why does this always happen to me?" he mumbled into Tim’s thigh.
Red Robin, completely unfazed, just grabbed another fry, chewed thoughtfully, and then—without breaking eye contact—shoved one into Danny’s mouth.
Danny chomped on it miserably.
"At least let me suffer in peace," he whined around the food.
Tim shrugged. "Nope. You're stuck with me."
Danny sighed. " Worst date ever. "
Tim stuffed another fry into his mouth. " Shut up, you love it. "
Meanwhile, as Danny dramatically decided that Red Robin’s lap was the best place to die, the bulk of Amity Park’s A-listers and B-listers had declared all-out war.
Not just any war. The most dramatic, over-the-top, unnecessarily complex game of war Gotham had ever witnessed.
Stakes were drawn. The city had been divided into two territories. Every participant had chest-mounted cameras broadcasting the chaos. Their weapons? Heavily modified paintball guns and—because Amity Parkers were a different breed of unhinged—paintball knives. (How? Who knows.)
And because Gotham itself was allergic to normalcy, Signal, Orphan, and Spoiler had joined them.
"Think about it," Tucker had explained to them with the gravitas of a war general. " Gotham is already a battlefield. Why not make it fun? "
The Amity Parkers had lovingly dubbed it their IRL Splatoon game.
Somewhere, Batman sighed heavily.
There was a point system.
Signal, foolishly, had asked about it. And in the same breath, regretted everything.
- Hitting a robber? One point.
- Hitting a cop? Two points. ("Wait, what?!" "Don't worry, only the corrupt ones." "...I’m not reassured.")
- Mafioso? Three points.
- Landing a hit on one of Gotham’s major villains? Four points.
- Getting tagged with paint yourself? Negative five points. ("Survival of the fittest," Dash had said wisely.)
And, because the Amity Parkers thrived on chaos, there was a bonus rule.
"Whoever lands a hit on Batman wins ten points automatically."
"...That feels like a death sentence," Signal muttered.
"Only if you get caught," Star said, loading her paintball gun like a trained assassin.
Somehow, Signal, Spoiler, and Orphan had been named ‘Honorary Caspers.’ He wasn’t sure what that meant, but given that it had come with customized paintball gear and war paint smeared across his face by a very serious Valerie, he had a feeling he’d find out soon.
The war began in the most dramatic, over-the-top, and Gotham-should-have-expected-this way possible.
It started with Bane.
Because, of course, it started with Bane.
The Amity Parkers had agreed unanimously that Bane was a mini-boss level target, worth a whopping four points. They weren’t dumb—Bane was a walking tank with enough muscles to make even Dash shut up in awe. If they were going to take him down, they needed a plan.
And what a glorious plan it was.
The Phase One: Lure the Musclehead happened flawlessly.
Sidney Poindexter, Amity’s resident ghost nerd and theatrical disaster, had possessed a random thug and ran up to Bane, screaming bloody murder.
“BOSS, IT’S THE KIDS! THEY’RE COMING FOR YOU! IT’S A HIT! A FREAKIN’ HIT!”
Bane, predictably, scoffed.
"Children? They are nothing."
Then Tucker hacked into the streetlights, making them flicker ominously. Sidney’s possessed thug started flailing dramatically.
“THEY’RE EVERYWHERE! LIKE SHADOWS! LIKE PHANTOMS—”
The thug dropped dead.
(Well, Sidney just left his body. But from Bane’s perspective, it looked like some horror movie nonsense.)
Bane…paused.
Then his henchmen started screaming.
That developed into Phase Two: Psychological Warfare
It started with Star, strategically placed in an alley, laughing like a horror villain. Signal was afraid when Bane people rained bullets in her direction, but the girl just kept cackling like they didn't even touch her.
That's when Dash threw paint bombs from the rooftops, creating ‘blood splatters’ that advance towards Bane and his people. How did he managed to make them look like steps? Spoiler did not know.
It ended with Kwan, Orphan and Paulina running past in ghost costumes, wailing like banshees.
Bane did not appreciate this.
His men?
Scattered like terrified pigeons.
And that took them to phase Three: THE PAINTBOMBING OF BANE
Bane, now thoroughly annoyed but still standing, cracked his knuckles and prepared to fight.
That’s when they struck.
Valerie and Sam, snipers, took position on a roof, talking lovingly to each other as they made it rain towards the man.
Wes, the wildcard, dumped an entire bucket of paint off a fire escape. Tucker launched a drone carrying an exploding paint balloon.
With a vengeful battle cry of “SPLATTER HIM, TEAM!” the Amity Parkers unloaded every last paintball they had.
Bane, hulking terror of Gotham, undefeated force of muscle, got absolutely wrecked.
By the time Batman arrived, Bane was sitting on the pavement, covered in neon green and purple paint, looking like a defeated modern art piece.
Batman just sighed, but the parkers had already left to their next target.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Duke Thomas had seen some shit in Gotham.
But this?
This was new.
Somehow, some way, the Amity Parkers had collectively decided that Gotham’s second-most bird-themed villain (after Jason, obviously) was next.
The Penguin.
Duke, standing on a rooftop with Spoiler and Orphan, adjusted his domino mask and squinted at the absolute mess happening below.
“This isn’t a takedown,” he muttered. “This is a cartoon episode.”
“Gotham is a cartoon episode,” Spoiler replied.
Orphan nodded sagely.
See, Tucker and Sam had found out that the Iceberg Lounge’s security system ran on a closed-loop system, which meant no external hacking.
Unfortunately for Penguin, Tucker Foley took that personally.
And so, instead of breaking in the normal way, Tucker had found a workaround—
weaponized bird calls.
Duke had no clue how, but somehow, the Parkers had hacked into Gotham’s pigeon population.
And they had recruited them.
From their rooftop vantage point, Duke watched as hundreds of pigeons flooded the Iceberg Lounge, swooping inside through open windows and doors, shrieking like the harbingers of doom.
Inside, pandemonium.
Men in suits screamed. Penguins flapped in terror. Glasses shattered as flapping wings and rogue beaks sent drinks flying.
Duke had to give credit where it was due—this was horrifying.
“Are we just gonna stand here?” he asked.
Spoiler pulled out her paintball gun. “Nah. We’re gonna have fun.”
It was too easy.
With the Lounge in chaos, the Parkers descended like a bunch of chaotic raccoons set loose in a five-star restaurant.
Dash and Kwan busted through the front door like it was a saloon fight, dressed in cowboy getup, they even had an iconic phrase of “YEEHAAW THIS IS A TAKEOVER!” before raining paint balls onto the goons.
The cheerleaders did a full gymnastics flip over the bar, using trays as shields while chanting some cheer phrases while throwing paintball knifes (really, what was the engineering behind those) like some trained assasins.
Valery was “negotiating” with the bouncers (And by negotiating, Duke meant she had them pinned under a table, kindly informing them they should rethink their life choices.).
Meanwhile, Orphan had already vanished, which meant she was absolutely about to ninja her way into wrecking Penguin’s night.
Spoiler and Duke?
They were going in loud.
“Five points if you hit Penguin,” Spoiler grinned, vaulting over the railing.
Duke followed, landing in a perfect combat stance—
—only to immediately dodge a flying fish.
A flying fish.
Because Oswald freaking Cobblepot had somehow managed to grab a raw fish from an abandoned seafood platter and was now swinging it like a goddamn weapon.
“WHO DO YOU LITTLE FREAKS THINK YOU ARE?!” Penguin screeched, whacking Dash over the head with his salmon saber.
Dash took it like a champ. “Bro, this is disgusting.”
“You have so much blood money, and this is what you fight with?” Sam called from behind the bar, lobbing a cocktail shaker at him.
Penguin dodged with surprising agility for a guy shaped like a bowling pin.
And then he pulled out an umbrella.
Duke felt a twinge of concern. Some of Penguin’s umbrellas were flamethrowers.
Then, right as Penguin was about to fire—
Orphan dropped from the ceiling and yoinked the umbrella right out of his hands.
She twirled it like a baton. Looked at it. Snapped it over her knee.
Penguin made a noise like a dying kazoo.
And that’s when Duke and Spoiler took their shot.
Neon blue and green paintballs splattered across Penguin’s entire front.
The villain froze.
Looked down at himself.
“You—”
And then Wes, little menace that he was, walked right next to him, dramatically whispering—
“Quack.”
Penguin lost his mind.
“GET OUT!! GET OUT OF MY DAMN LOUNGE!!”
That was their cue to scatter.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Meanwhile somewhere across Gotham, Danielle Masters had become a menace to society.
Not that she wasn’t already.
But this time, she was doing it in style.
Because, naturally, if Catwoman invited her to rob some ridiculously rich jerk blind, Dani wasn’t going to say no.
She even had a costume.
A sleek, black catsuit.
A tiny domino mask.
Even cat ears.
(Did she need them? No. Did she want them? Yes.)
And now, she was running across Gotham’s rooftops, cackling as she held a very sparkly diamond necklace.
Behind her?
Robin.
Chasing her like an angry chihuahua.
"DANI, GIVE IT BACK!"
"NO!"
"IT’S ILLEGAL!"
"SINCE WHEN?!"
"SINCE ALWAYS!!"
Dani leapt off a rooftop, flipped mid-air, and landed gracefully on a fire escape.
Robin followed—except he didn’t land gracefully. He slipped on a loose shingle and barely caught himself, scowling.
Below, Catwoman watched from a safe distance, sipping a martini.
Harley Quinn and Ivy, sitting next to her, clapped politely.
“She’s a natural,” Ivy noted.
“Look at her go,” Catwoman sighed fondly. “I’m so proud.”
“STOP ENCOURAGING HER!” Robin yelled.
Dani stuck her tongue out.
“Alright, Kitten, playtime’s over,” Catwoman finally called. “Wrap it up!”
Dani pouted, but she wasn’t about to get grounded twice in one day.
So, with an exaggerated sigh, she turned to Robin, held up the necklace, and—
threw it.
Right at his face.
Robin fumbled, nearly dropping it off the roof, and by the time he recovered—
Dani was already gone.
Robin groaned, rubbing his temples. This was not his life.
Behind him, he heard Catwoman chuckle.
“So…” she said, leaning in. “Are you following on your father footsteps?”
Robin froze.
“What do you mean”
Catwoman giggled at him, leaning away from his embarrassed face.
“Little bat got a kitten to chase after now.”
She leaped off the roof before she got a diamond necklace thrown at her face.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Dick Grayson was this close to making some very bad decisions.
Because wow.
Dan could kiss.
Like, knees-weak, brain-off, ‘screw Gotham, let’s go somewhere private’ kind of kiss.
And they were alone. Mostly. On a rooftop. In Gotham. Public indecency laws were suddenly looking very optional.
Dan tugged at his collar, smirking. Dick’s hands drifted.
This was it. This was going to happen. This was—
SPLAT.
A wave of paint crashed onto him. Pink. Yellow. Neon.
Dick froze.
Dan blinked.
They both looked up—
And there they were, the Amity Parkers, laughing their little menacing heads off.
But worse?
Duke, Cass and Steph. They had ditched their vigilante gear and were high-fiving each other between their wheezing fits.
Dick should have been mad. He should have sworn vengeance, but… Duke was bent over, wheezing, Steph had tears in her eyes, Cass was giggling.
And Dick—Dick melted.
Because when was the last time he’d seen them this happy?
Dan, however, did not share his sentiment. He growled, low and dark. “Do you want revenge?”
Dick turned, saw his very dead, very paint-free fling looking absolutely feral.
And oh.
Oh .
That was hot.
Dan grinned, and before Dick could even think, he snatched two paintball guns straight out of the hands of two poor, unsuspecting B-listers. Dick took one, grinned back, aimed—
And made it rain.
Screams filled the rooftop.
Amity Parkers scattered.
Duke, Cass, and Steph ran for their lives.
Dick and Dan gave chase.
Tonight, there would be no mercy.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
Batman was almost going to have an early night. Almost.
For once, Gotham was quiet. Crime? At an all-time low. And by low , he meant every robber, mugger, and miscellaneous crime-doer had been… pelted with paint.
Not arrested, not knocked out. Just so thoroughly humiliated that they collectively decided crime could wait until the tourists left.
Batman supposed this was… an acceptable conclusion to the insanity of this week.
So he was heading home. To bed. And that was his downfall, because he wasn’t paying attention.
THWACK.
Something hit him. Right in the chest.
Batman froze. Not because he was afraid, but because he knew what was coming next.
And like a bad weather report, it started to rain.
Neon rain.
Bright, obnoxious splashes of pink, green, yellow, and—dear god —was that glitter?!
His cape drooped under the weight of liquid shame.
Slowly, slowly , Batman turned.
And there they were, the Amity Parkers. All of them, laughing.
And worse?
His own children were part of this insanity. Dick was being held by his waist while he hanged upside down, high fiving Jason who was wheezing so hard there were tears on his unmasked face. The redhead who he had gotten infatuated was patting Cass head who was beaming, beaming. Steph and Duke were hanging onto each other not to fall laughing.
Batman narrowed his eyes.
His kids grinned at him, unrepentant.
"Sorry, B!" said Steph, waving her hand “it was ten points, we all wanted to win”
And then they ran.
Batman sighed, dripping with neon.
He looked up to the sky.
It was still Saturday.
He hated Saturdays.
Notes:
Amity parkers last night in Gotham!
Not as funny as other chapters but it felt like a good conclusion. Now only Sunday Morning awaits until Parkers are out of Gotham finally.
Chapter Text
Sunday arrived with a sigh—both of relief and sadness.
The Amity Parkers gathered in the hotel lobby for their final breakfast in Gotham, their new vigilante friends joining them as they waited for the cars that would take them away.
Duke leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms with a grin. "Man, I really hope we can see each other again. I had a blast with you guys around."
"Yeah," Kwan agreed, holding out a fist for Duke to bump. "Maybe we can come visit again—or you guys could come to our graduation? We'd love to have you."
At another table, Valerie and Cass were deep in conversation, exchanging numbers while signing enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Sam was guiding Steph through what could only be described as Ghost Tech for Dummies.
"Okay, so normal tech doesn’t work in Amity," Sam explained, pulling up a modified phone. "If you want to text us, you gotta put this here, say this summoning ritual, and then the message will be sent through our secure ghost.net."
Steph, halfway through pressing the wrong button, paused. "A summoning ritual?"
"Yeah, don’t worry, it’s just a small one," Sam said breezily, flipping through the settings. "No souls required."
Steph blinked. "That’s... not reassuring."
Meanwhile, in the corner, Danny, Tim, and Tucker were deeply engrossed in a different kind of conversation. A stack of blueprints and schematics lay between them, Tucker gesturing wildly as he explained.
"So, if you implement this design tweak, it'll cut energy consumption by at least 40% and make it way harder for your enemies to hack—"
Danny nudged Tim with his elbow, smirking. "Translation: Tucker is offering you free upgrades for your tech. Take it."
Tim, eyes practically glowing, leaned in closer. "Tell me everything."
And so, as the minutes ticked by, final goodbyes were exchanged, numbers were saved, ghost-approved tech tutorials were given, and one thing became clear—
This wouldn’t be the last time Gotham saw the Amity Parkers.
From her spot on the balcony overlooking the breakfast lounge, Jazz watched the scene unfold below—Parkers and Gothamites laughing, exchanging numbers, making plans for the future.
Jason, draped over her like an overachiever of a blanket, lazily twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. "Damn, pretty one," he murmured, his voice warm with satisfaction. "To think you’re gonna be at Gotham U means I get to wine and dine you more. That makes me so happy."
Jazz smiled, turning in his arms to loop hers around his neck. "You mean you’ll get to bribe me with food so I don’t ghost you while studying?"
Jason smirked. "Exactly."
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the hotel, Dick was also saying his goodbyes to Dan. Though, unlike Jazz and Jason, there was significantly less conversation and significantly more Dan worshipping the ground Dick walked on.
But hey—who were we to judge?
But eventually, the time came. With luggage packed and goodbyes hanging in the air, the Amity Parkers boarded the bus. Hugs were exchanged, promises made. Danny cupped Tim’s face, pressing a firm kiss to his lips before grinning.
"Call me. Video chat me. Haunt my inbox, I don’t care—just don’t disappear."
Tim, a little dazed but utterly pleased, nodded. "You will regret those words."
The Casper High cheerleaders, ever the performers, gathered for one last hurrah. "GIVE ME A G! GIVE ME AN O! GIVE ME A T-H-A-M! GOTHAMMMMM!" They finished with a dramatic pose as the bus doors finally closed.
The engine rumbled to life. Slowly, the bus pulled away from the curb—
And then, because Gotham refused to let anything end normally, a convertible came screeching down the street at full speed, only to slam the brakes at the last possible second. The sheer force launched Danielle Masters from the passenger seat through the open bus window like a human cannonball.
Danny, who had been casually leaning out of the opposite window, watched her gracefully land in an empty seat before looking up at her with absolute exasperation.
"Where in the banshee biscuits did you come from?!"
Dani, perfectly unbothered, stretched out with a smirk. "Around!"
As if this was the most normal thing in the world, she leaned back out of the window, waving enthusiastically at the women in the convertible. "Bye, Auntie Harley! Bye, Auntie Ivy! Bye, Auntie Selina! I’ll visit soon, okay? And you better come visit me in my castle !"
The three criminal icons of Gotham actually looked touched. Harley blew her a kiss, Ivy nodded approvingly, and Catwoman gave an indulgent smirk.
As the bus picked up speed, the windows burst open as every single Amity Parker leaned out, arms waving wildly, voices calling their final goodbyes.
The Gothamites they had come to know—and in some cases, terrorize —stood at the curb, waving back. Some with fondness, some with sheer bewilderment, but all knowing that Gotham would probably never experience another week quite like this again.
As the bus rumbled away, Dani caught a glimpse of movement from the hotel window. She squinted—then grinned.
There, half-naked and standing at the window like a victorious warlord, was Dan, lazily waving at her.
Dani wasted no time. She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs:
"HEY, YOU STAYING?!"
Dan smirked and bellowed back, "YEAH! TELL VLAD FUCK YOU!"
Dani burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. "WILL DO! SEE YOU LATER!"
And with that, the bus hit the highway, taking them out of Gotham.
It took nearly forty minutes for them to reach the city limits. Forty minutes for Gotham to settle back into its usual rhythm. Forty minutes for its citizens to breathe a collective sigh of relief, believing that, at long last, the chaotic whirlwind of Amity Park was finally gone.
But Danny had one last trick up his sleeve.
He turned to Tucker, who was seated just in front, and smirked. " Ready? "
Tucker, grinning like a mad scientist, reached into his backpack and pulled out a comically huge red button. He held it aloft like Mufasa presenting Simba, eyes shining with glee.
" Ready. "
And he slammed the button.
Back in Gotham, Tim had just stepped into his office at Wayne Enterprises, barely getting a moment to take a sip of his coffee—when suddenly, the entire skyline shook.
A massive structure began unfolding atop Wayne Enterprises, its panels clicking into place with an eerie mechanical whir. The entire city turned to stare as, for the first time in history, Gotham heard a sound it had never known before:
A deafening, otherworldly suction.
The infamous, eternally polluted Gotham air—the thick, smoggy overcast that had never once lifted—was being sucked into the machine, processed, and expelled as crisp, clear air.
For the first time in decades , Gotham’s sky was blue.
Tim stared, absolutely floored. From the street, Bruce looked up in stunned silence. The people of Gotham, used to the comforting embrace of ever-present pollution, were left dazed and confused, shielding their eyes from a sun they had never seen so clearly.
Gotham had been detoxed.
That day, everyone in Gotham went out of their houses to enjoy the sight.
And somewhere on a rapidly disappearing bus, Danny Phantom grinned.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
"Okay!" Paulina announced, standing at the front of the bus an hour into their trip. The deathtrap highways back to Amity blurred past the windows, but no one was paying attention. "We got a bingo game to cash in, my fellow classmates, and I am thrilled to inform you all that someone has indeed claimed Bingo!"
The bus erupted into murmurs. Students turned to each other, whispering in disbelief.
"No way!" Valerie said out loud, voicing what they were all thinking. Who had actually managed to pull off a full bingo card?
Paulina smirked and turned toward the very back of the bus.
"Spike!" she called, pointing at the goth kid who had spent most of the trip brooding by the window. "Be a dear and read the first five squares on your bingo card?"
Spike, who had not expected to be called out so publicly, looked extremely uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, then reluctantly read aloud:
- "Fistbump a vigilante."
- "Get a wink from Catwoman."
- "Get stabbed."
- "Have a cop ask you what’s wrong with you."
- "Chew a wall."
A beat of stunned silence. Then—
"Perfect!" Paulina said, beaming. "Now, can anyone confirm these achievements?"
"Yes!" Tracy immediately raised her hand. "I saw him and Solomon Grundy sharing a piece of wall back and forth."
Dani nodded enthusiastically. "I saw Selina wink at him! She said he looked really shy and wanted to make him feel better."
"I was with him when he got stabbed," Sky added, like this was a normal thing to say. "Which led to that cop asking us what was wrong with us when we just walked it off."
Tommy pointed at Spike. "And I was there when Signal fistbumped him."
"Perfect!" Paulina declared, grinning like she was hosting the Gotham Awards. "Next five squares, please."
Spike sighed but continued reading off his list:
- "Take a picture with the Penguin."
- "Perform a musical number."
- "Join a revolution."
- "Infiltrate the mafia."
- "Get an autograph from Red Hood."
The bus erupted again.
"You joined a revolution?!" someone shouted.
"I have so many follow-up questions," Valerie added, looking both impressed and deeply concerned.
But Spike wasn’t finished. He kept going, rattling off even more absurd achievements:
- "Put my name in all the arcade games."
- "Make ice cream with Mr. Freeze’s machine."
- "Take a picture of Nightwing’s ass."
- "Get an autograph from a prison guard."
- "Get Batman to fold to Wesley."
- "Punch Killer Croc in the nose."
- “Confirm that Gotham pigeons are dimension hoppers”
- “Find the Rat King”
The bus lost it.
As Spike finish relating the twenty five squares of his bingo, that he had fulfilled, people were howling with laughter, cheering for their unlikely champion. Spike, the quietest, most unassuming goth in the entire school, had officially become a legend.
Paulina let the chaos ride out before raising her hands. "Alright, alright! Congratulations Spike, you won bingo which means you get the last chocolate cake slice from the mysterious lunch lady back at home”
Everyone clapped as Spike blushed but smiled.
“Before we get too carried away, let’s give some honorable mentions!"
The students settled, buzzing with anticipation.
"First, let’s give it up for Brittany, who was the first to land a hit on Batman during our game of war! She also won the most amount of points"
Brittany stood up and bowed, looking way too smug. The applause was deafening.
"Next, a special shout-out to Kyle, who asked Condiment King if he had Sriracha—which, as it turns out, he did not. This caused a personal crisis so profound that Condiment King had an identity breakdown on the spot."
More laughter. Kyle gave finger guns and nodded proudly.
"And last but definitely not least—a standing ovation for Rebecca, who roasted Two-Face so hard that the man walked himself into jail while crying."
The cheers were deafening.
Rebecca stood up, took a deep breath, and simply said, "He had it coming, he only had himself to blame."
Absolute pandemonium.
👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻
That night, Gotham was silent. Not the eerie, tension-filled silence before an explosion—but the kind that settled deep, warm, and unfamiliar.
There were no goons slinking through alleys. No break-ins, no car chases, no villainous monologues echoing from rooftops. Even the most dedicated criminals had collectively decided that, just for tonight, they had better things to do.
Instead, Gothamites did something that no one had ever done before.
They turned off their lights.
They climbed their fire escapes, rooftops, and balconies, and for the first time in living memory, they looked up.
Because the sky above Gotham wasn’t the usual dull orange haze. It was clear. The stars—distant, shimmering, real—stretched above them like something out of a dream.
On top of Wayne Tower, Bruce stood next to Damian, arms crossed, quietly taking it in.
His city had always been his responsibility. A never-ending battle. And yet, here it was—just existing. At peace.
He tapped his comms, connecting to his children.
From different rooftops, they each answered, just as mesmerized.
After a long moment, Bruce spoke, voice steady with conviction.
"We’re going to visit Amity Park."
A pause.
"Even if it’s the last thing we do."
The line went silent.
Then, Jason: "Damn right we are."
Steph: "Road trip, baby!"
Dick, somewhere between laughing and crying: "I—Bruce, I never thought I'd hear those words from you, but I accept."
Duke: "Yeah, if they can do this to Gotham, I wanna know what the hell else they got."
Cass didn’t say anything. But Bruce could feel her approval.
Damian, arms crossed, simply nodded.
They would go.
They had to go.
Notes:
List of the 25 squares of the winning bingo:
1. Fistbump a vigilante.
2. Get a wink from Catwoman.
3. Get stabbed.
4. Have a cop ask you what’s wrong with you.
5. Chew a wall.
6. Take a picture with the Penguin.
7. Perform a musical number.
8. Join a revolution.
9. Infiltrate the mafia.
10. Get an autograph from Red Hood.
11. Put your name in all the arcade games.
12. Make ice cream with Mr. Freeze’s machine.
13. Take a picture of Nightwing’s ass.
14. Get an autograph from a prison guard.
15. Get Batman to fold to Wesley.
16. Punch Killer Croc in the nose.
17. Confirm that Gotham pigeons are eldritch beings.
18. Find the Rat King.
19. Be confuse with an Arkham inmate.
20. Be summoned by a cult. (if you are Danny, fool the summoning)
21. Win the sewer fishing competition.
22. Tell a Villain that their cosplay is cool.
23. Sing The Shark Theme to the Great White Shark.
24. Paint the town red.
25. Get kidnapped by the Riddler.
Chapter 10: Welcome to Amity Park, Please Enjoy Your Haunting
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
During the last week of May, the Justice League finally found Amity Park.
And not because Batman cracked the code.
No, it was because Tim, Cass, Duke, and Steph straight-up told him.
Why? Because they were going to the graduation of their new best friends and realized that if they didn’t, Bruce would probably pull a full Bat-stalker move and end up in Wisconsin by accident.
The revelation had been accompanied by a series of absolutely infuriating explanations.
“The Parkers told us.”
“Why would I need to tell you how to find my boyfriend?”
“Why didn’t I tell you? Because of Nunya.”
Bruce had stared at them, already regretting it, but still asked the question he knew was a mistake.
“Nunya?”
"Nunya damn business, B." Duke had answered, grinning ear to ear.
Bruce had never felt so betrayed.
Defeated, he had gone to Diana and Clark to complain about his absolute menace of a family. His so-called friends had only patted his back in sympathy, looking just as exhausted as he felt. Clark muttered something about how his son also kept secrets from him, and Diana just shook her head and said, “Children.”
But at long last, after the kids finalized their plans, the League put together a team for what was basically a diplomatic mission to an uncharted supernatural city.
Batman, of course, was leading the charge, mostly out of sheer stubbornness. Wonder Woman joined because when dealing with unknown forces, it was always a good idea to bring someone who could punch a god. Superman was there as a safety net in case things went catastrophically wrong. Martian Manhunter tagged along because he figured a mind-reader might finally get a straight answer from these chaos gremlins. Green Lantern came because the Lantern corps were the diplomatic group of the galaxy. Constantine, already lighting a cigarette, grumbled about how he didn’t get paid enough for this. Zatanna was the only one actually excited, partly because ghosts were involved and partly because she thought the whole situation was hilarious.
Meanwhile, Gotham was being left in the hands of Dick.
Well—Dick and his new shadow.
A shadow that let him be in multiple places at once, moved in ways that should not be physically possible, and most importantly—made Jason look visibly nervous.
Bruce, already dreading the answer, had asked where the shadow came from.
The shadow just grinned, its smile far too wide, and said one word.
"Nunya."
Bruce turned to Dick, waiting for some kind of explanation.
Dick, utterly unbothered, just swooned.
"Are we ready?" Constantine asked, standing in the Batcave, cigarette dangling from his lips.
Everyone nodded.
With a sigh that screamed "I am too old for this" , he started chanting. Zatanna joined in, her backwards incantations weaving into his magic, and slowly, a portal began to form in the middle of the cave.
It swirled menacingly, glowing an unsettling, Lazarus-green, pulsing like it had a personal grudge against reality itself.
Naturally, the first person to step through—without hesitation, without concern, without even a damn glance—was Tim.
The Batfamily barely blinked.
The Justice League, however, collectively had a what the hell moment.
Batman had to push his internal panic aside and remind himself that Tim had a boyfriend on the other side. Of course, he had zero self-preservation when it came to Amity Park.
With varying degrees of reluctance, everyone else followed through.
And then they got their first look at Amity Park.
And wasn’t that something?
The sky was an unnatural bright blue, clear and crisp, a sight so unfamiliar to the Gothamites that Duke actually squinted at it in suspicion. A gentle breeze passed through, pleasant and refreshing, and for half a second, Bruce thought he had accidentally walked into Kansas.
But that’s where the normalcy ended.
Blobs of floating green goo were zipping through the streets, cheerfully helping an old lady clean her front porch like some kind of haunted Roombas.
A kid with gray, transparent skin was gleefully chasing another child through the air, their laughter echoing unnervingly through the town.
A motorcycle sped through the sky, upside down, defying every law of physics and possibly offending the very concept of gravity itself.
Teenagers were riding hoverboards, cackling as they did barrel rolls through intersections, narrowly dodging ghostly traffic signs that flickered in and out of existence.
A gigantic dragon—because of course there was a dragon—was swooping low over the streets, playfully snapping its jaws at a group of running children. Said children were laughing instead of screaming, which was somehow more concerning.
And looming over everything, casually chilling in the sky like it owned the place, was an absolutely massive portal.
Through it, the League could see a castle in the distance, its towers spiraling impossibly in every direction. Strange creatures of all shapes and sizes drifted in and out of the swirling vortex, treating it like a very casual doorway.
The group stood in silence, taking in the absolute chaos in front of them.
Then Green Lantern muttered, "Well, Gotham’s got nothin’ on this sh—"
A floating stop sign smacked him in the face.
Zatanna cackled.
Suddenly, a loud, echoing "YAHOOOOOOO!" pierced the air, followed by a crash so violent it shook the pavement.
A man—if he could even be called that—lay sprawled in a brand-new crater next to them, covered in metal armor, rocket thrusters, and what could only be described as 'cyber-poacher chic'. His booming laughter echoed as he climbed out of the hole with absolutely zero regard for his near-death experience.
As if this were completely normal, the floating green blobs from earlier casually floated over and began fixing the hole like they were janitors on a lunch break.
Above them, the cyber-poacher-thing, now revealed to be Skulker, rocketed off into the sky, yelling at the top of his lungs, "PHANTOM! I SWEAR, THIS TIME YOU'RE MINE!" before disappearing into the distance.
The League blinked.
Green Lantern, still rubbing his face from his earlier stop-sign incident, mumbled, "Did we just witness a crime? Should we stop him? Call someone? I dunno, Ghostbusters?"
Before anyone could answer, a voice behind them hesitantly called out, "B?"
Batman turned and found himself staring at Jason, who looked absolutely stunned to see him here—though whether it was from Bruce’s presence or the sheer absurdity of the situation was up for debate.
Jason stood arm-in-arm with his girlfriend, both of them casually licking neon green ice cream like this was just another Tuesday.
Bruce stalked over, face unreadable, cape billowing ominously. "Jason. Explain."
Behind him, Tim snorted so hard he nearly choked.
"Yeah, uh, you guys have fun with that," Tim said, already walking away with Duke, Steph, and Cass.
Then, from Batman’s very own shadow, something small and fast darted out.
Damian, in full Robin gear, took one look at Jason, muttered "Tt," then parkoured up a building and was gone before Bruce could even process what just happened.
Jason let out the most exhausted sigh imaginable, then turned to his girlfriend. She simply nodded and gave Bruce a tired but entirely too knowing smile, the kind of smile that said, "Oh, you poor fool, you have no idea what you’ve walked into."
"Alright," she said, clapping her hands together like a tired but enthusiastic tour guide. "Welcome to Amity Park, the most haunted place on Earth. Now, come with me—I’ll give you the tour."
Meanwhile, across town, after what could only be described as the most bizarre Uber experience of his life (involving a literal cat-shaped bus with glowing eyes and a purring engine), Tim Drake found himself airborne.
Not in a “jumping between rooftops” way. No.
In a "my very dead, very color-inverted boyfriend just scooped me up and is twirling me through the sky like we're in a paranormal rom-com" kind of way.
And Tim, despite all logic, reason, and basic survival instincts, could only think one thing.
"Holy shit, this is hot."
Sure, he’d seen pictures of Danny as Phantom. He’d analyzed footage, noted the white hair, glowing green eyes, and gravity-defying cape nonsense. But seeing it in person? Feeling the effortless way Danny flew them through the air, smirking at him like he knew exactly what Tim was thinking? Yeah, Tim was never going to recover from this.
Below them, completely unbothered by the floating couple, Duke, Steph, and Cass were busy chatting with their Casper High friends, casually walking toward the gym where the graduation ceremony was about to take place.
"Wait, wait, wait," Duke said, pointing at the entrance. "You're telling me your entire school just collectively decided to hold graduation inside a haunted gym, knowing full well that ghosts might just crash it?"
Paulina, filing her nails, didn’t even look up as she shrugged. "It’s got good acoustics."
"Also," Star added, flipping her hair, "we literally tried the town hall once, and it got possessed by a Victorian ghost that wanted us all to speak in Old English. So, y’know. Adjustments were made."
"Fair," Steph muttered, mentally preparing for whatever supernatural chaos was about to unfold.
Which, shockingly, it didn’t.
The Justice League arrived just as the ceremony began, and, to their immense surprise, it went on exactly as expected—for a town like Amity Park, at least.
Humans sat on the ground, ghosts floated in the sky, and the entire event felt like some kind of supernatural mixer where the dead and the living just coexisted without a second thought.
Batman, standing near the back, was actively taking notes. Superman had not stopped squinting at everything, trying to make sense of it all. And Constantine had already given up, muttering, “Right, yeah, no, this is normal now, sure, why not?”
Everything was going smoothly—until Paulina walked onto the stage.
The second she stepped forward to accept her diploma, a gigantic spectral dragon materialized above the crowd and roared in delight.
It was an earth-shaking, fire-breathing, full-on cinematic dragon roar—and it made Superman flinch so hard he nearly heat-visioned the stage.
The Amity Parkers?
Didn’t even blink.
A couple of ghosts cheered along with the dragon, someone from the audience casually yelled “Love you, girl!”, and Paulina just flipped her hair and waved like she was on the red carpet.
The Justice League?
Having a collective crisis.
"And now," Mr. Lancer announced, adjusting his glasses, "normally, this would be the speech of our valedictorian. However"—he paused dramatically—"as most of you know, the students of Casper High collectively voted, and in a completely unanimous decision, they have chosen someone else to give the closing student speech. Danny, if you would."
The crowd erupted into cheers as Danny, looking thoroughly sheepish, floated up to the stage. Sam and Tucker immediately shot to their feet, clapping like lunatics. From the back, Dash suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed,
"IN YOUR KING ATTIRE, BITCH!"
Danny choked mid-air, nearly face-planting onto the stage. He glared toward the audience, only for dozens of voices to start chanting:
"KING ATTIRE! KING ATTIRE! KING ATTIRE!"
Danny hesitated, glancing around at the grinning faces of his classmates. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head.
"Alright, fine," he muttered. "You asked for it."
With a brilliant flash of light, Phantom shifted.
Gone was the usual black jumpsuit. Instead, his white hair flowed longer, his green eyes shimmered brighter, and his skin took on an ethereal blue tint. Floating above his head was a crown of shifting aurora borealis, casting dancing lights across the gym. Behind him, a cape made of living galaxies swirled and shimmered, stars twinkling as they drifted lazily in the fabric of space itself.
And instead of standing at the podium, he casually sat cross-legged in mid-air, looking like he owned the very concept of gravity.
The entire gym lost its collective mind.
Screams, cheers, a few fainting students—even some of the ghosts started losing their spectral shit. From the Justice League section, several heroes were staring, slack-jawed.
Superman slowly turned to Batman and whispered, "Did you know about this?"
Batman, still writing in his increasingly ridiculous notes, muttered, "I do now."
Danny floated in mid-air, crossing his legs as he rested his elbow on an invisible armrest, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just ascended to ghostly royalty mid-ceremony. He tapped the microphone, causing a weird ethereal echo that made half the audience shiver.
"Ahem," he started. "Ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, ghouls, and whatever the Box Ghost is—"
"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" someone heckled from the back.
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Danny deadpanned before continuing.
"Wow. We actually made it. Casper High, Class of The Hunted Ones—we survived. And let’s be real, the fact that I’m literally dead should make that sentence concerning, but here we are."
A few chuckles rippled through the audience. Danny smirked.
"When we started high school, we weren’t close. In fact, most of us actively disliked each other. Some of you," he pointedly side-eyed Dash, "thought shoving me into lockers was an Olympic sport."
Dash coughed awkwardly.
"But things changed. Nothing brings people together quite like being terrorized by spectral horrors on a weekly basis. I mean, one day we’re arguing over who gets the last slice of pizza, and the next, we’re teaming up to prevent a 10-foot marshmallow ghost from absorbing the lunch lady. Real bonding moment."
The students cheered in agreement, remembering that particularly gooey incident.
"And then, of course, we had the apocalypse."
A loud groan rippled through the gym.
"Yep. Can’t forget that. What a time. You know, most high schools get pop quizzes —we got doomsday scenarios. Some people had to worry about SATs, we had to worry about timeline collapses, evil future selves, and whether the cafeteria meatloaf was secretly possessed."
"IT WAS!" Someone yelled from the back.
"I KNOW!" Danny shot back before continuing.
"But through it all, we made it. And we didn’t just survive—we thrived. We went from rival classmates to a team. From illegal to exist to a legal status of sentient beings in the eyes of the goverment. The jocks, the nerds, the goths, the cheerleaders—we all became allies in the great battle of Not Dying ."
Lancer facepalmed at that phrasing.
"And now, as we graduate, we’re not just classmates anymore. We’re friends. We’re a family. A weird, dysfunctional, sometimes-possessed family, but a family nonetheless. And now that we’re all legally adults, it’s significantly harder to be grounded, which is a win in my book."
The audience erupted in laughter and applause.
Danny smiled, looking around the room, his galaxy cape shimmering like a living constellation.
"So, as we all go our separate ways—whether it’s college, work, or in my case, part time into a kingdom in another dimension—just remember: no matter where we go, we are just one summoning circle away from each other. After all, Casper High will always haunt us."
He winked. "Figuratively and literally. I may or may not have left a few ghost traps behind just for fun."
Paulina screamed in frustration.
"Congratulations, Class of The Hunted Ones! You’re free!"
The gym exploded into cheers, ecto-blasts, and the sounds of ghosts howling in celebration.
The Justice League, meanwhile, looked deeply, deeply concerned.
As the crowd spilled out of the gym, leaving behind only remnants of celebration—confetti, ectoplasmic residue, and a single ghost dog chasing its tail in the air—Bruce Wayne finally spotted his target.
Tim and Danny stood near the entrance, wrapped in a hug, Tim holding a bouquet of white marigolds and Chrysanthemum. Danny was cackling, his laughter echoing in a way that was definitely bending the laws of acoustics.
"Dude," Danny wheezed between laughs, "Did you seriously get me the flowers that literally meant to attract the dead?"
Tim grinned. "I thought it was fitting."
Danny snorted, clutching the bouquet dramatically. "Wow. Romantic and culturally hilarious. I am so keeping you."
Tim only smirked, but his smugness was immediately shattered when he noticed the literal Batman approaching behind Danny. His spine went ramrod straight.
"Danny," he hissed.
Danny, still giggling, turned—and stopped dead (pun very much intended). His glowing green eyes met Bruce’s unreadable stare, and for the first time since receiving a crown made of aurora borealis, he looked mildly concerned.
Bruce cleared his throat, voice low and even. "Congratulations on graduating."
Danny blinked. "Uh. Thanks?"
"I’d like to hear your story. You mentioned world-ending threats, and I assume you weren’t exaggerating."
Danny waved a dismissive hand, as if literal world-ending was just another Tuesday. "Pfft, yeah, don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time for that once I start university."
Tim gasped dramatically. "Noooo."
Danny grinned wickedly. "Yesss."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. " Explain. "
Danny beamed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Well, funny thing—both the Ghost Council and University accepted me. So, starting next semester, I’ll be joining Gotham University’s Engineering Department."
Tim groaned, clutching his betrayal bouquet of marigolds. "I was this close to keeping you a fun long-distance mystery. This close! "
Danny just patted his cheek, smiling like an absolute menace. "Oh, babe, there’s no escaping me now."
Bruce exhaled slowly, as if processing the long-term consequences of this revelation.
Tim and Danny just smirked at each other, already anticipating the adventures they were going to be able to experience.
Far away in the distance, over the roofs of both Amity Park and the ghost zone, Robin and Dani were playing a new game of tag.
Their laughter, something Damian Wayne rarely did, carried over in the wind.
Notes:
Thank you so much for everyone who read, I read all your comments and made me smile and push through to finish this insanity fast! I am so glad most of you enjoyed it and brightened your day.
When I started writing this, I was not going to publish it. The origin of this fic was basically me, in a very very bad headspace, looking into Tumblr for funny posts that could light up my day. As it turns out, they made me laugh so hard that I started to write this fic.
I will forever be thankful for that first Tumblr post, which literally made me stop sobbing in my bathroom alone after it drew a chuckle out of me.
If you ever feel down, if you ever feel sad, do reach out to someone, or look for things to distract yourself. Thats what helps me.
This fic is for you all, do whatever you want with it, want to print it? do so, want to write your own version of it? go ahead! want to make your own continuation? feel free to do so. Quote it if you want, use part of it for your own endeavor, I call this a finished piece so now is a matter of what YOU want to do with it.
Follow what makes you happy, and keep spreading that happiness to others. I posted this fic so everyone who read it could laugh with me, so if you can spread that laughter around. I believe firmly in the "happiness and kindness spreads, and it only takes one person to do so for the world to be a bit less gloom"
This fic will not have a continuation. It was a small proyect that I took while I was writing my main fic Hot single Eldritch being in your area chat now!1! which is a very different fic than this one, even if it does have comedy from time to time.
That being said, is not like I wont be writing more crack in the future. Once I need a new palate cleanser I might write another short comedy skit like this one. Or maybe if I am filled with sadness I will write a Hurt/Comfort, who knows, the posibilities are endless.
If you want to drop suggestions on what I could write next, be it tumblr promtps, ideas, or just a challenge do so here in comments or in my tumblr @windyengel
Anyway, sorry for so much rambling. I hope you all had an amazing day and an amazing rest of your year and life. Smile! and be kind.
And never stop laughing.
-Windy
Pages Navigation
Jackell18 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 10:30AM UTC
Comment Actions
OldTome on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 02:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Fri 07 Mar 2025 04:04AM UTC
Comment Actions
mickeysshitshow on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 10:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
Roxsu on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 12:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 09:56AM UTC
Comment Actions
Writer666 (Gosymr) on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 12:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 09:57AM UTC
Comment Actions
Anok on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 12:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
ZoeJli on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 02:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
OldTome on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 02:56PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 09:58AM UTC
Comment Actions
Livon_Saffron on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:01PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 10:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
Mochiko79 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:40PM UTC
Comment Actions
ChaosKitE on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 04:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:39PM UTC
Comment Actions
IamTheOceansWater on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 05:04PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
WendyPotter04 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 05:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
Starmine04 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 08:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
CHB5CJ5 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 09:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
Lemini on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 10:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:34PM UTC
Comment Actions
GargoyleJon44 on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Feb 2025 04:32PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Feb 2025 08:03PM UTC
Comment Actions
DrunkBartender3 on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 10:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Mon 24 Feb 2025 11:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
CrystalAris on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Feb 2025 01:35AM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 10:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
MagnoliaHarvest on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Feb 2025 02:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 10:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
Beebie_Jr on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Feb 2025 06:54AM UTC
Comment Actions
WindyEngel on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Feb 2025 10:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation