#DPxDCShipWeek

[gremlin-bot]

One (1) New Reply

I finally wrote my prompt I sent to @stealingyourbones back in November! well part of it. This is just chapter 1, so this gets a summary @dpxdcshipweek

Edit: forgot to say that I got help with the usernames from the wonderful @tourettesdog and @half-dead-ham! (If I'm wrong it's bc I'm not at home rn to look at my notes)

Ao3 link: Here Master List: Here

Summary: Danny has always had more internet access than a child really should have had. He tended to spend that time on game forums and different websites dedicated to space. Everyone once in a while he'd venture onto one about heroes and villains. That's how he met Tim Drake-Wayne or BatShadow as was his username back then.

Chapter 1: Blorbo Supplier

Danny just wanted to see uncommon pictures of Superman. It really shouldn't have been this hard. He's an alien, there should be a lot of pictures of him. Frustrated with his lack of results he resorts to looking for the pictures through unpopular social media websites that should have new pictures. His first look didn't meet his goal, and before he could even think of trying again he was distracted by a post. It was a picture of a figure swinging between skyscrapers, backlit by neon light all against a smog filled sky. It was stunning and made all the more captivating by the identity of the subject in the photo. A picture of Batman, The Batman, taken in a way that you couldn't deny it was him. That was impressive on its own, but the quality is what made it shine. Danny had to see if the account had more pictures of Batman, or even other heroes. Looking at the blog, hoping it wasn't a deactivated user, he finds the posts of BatShadow. 

The blog is a gold mine of pictures of Batman and Robin with some villains the duo we're fighting. All with stunning quality, with each subject undeniable as who they were but still giving a sense of privacy. Sadly, Danny couldn't find any other heroes pictured, but Danny could live with that. Batman was his third favorite hero, he blames Sam and all her knowledge on the edgy and obscure. She would be ecstatic about these photos, too bad he wasn't going to tell her. He was being petty. Sam should have known better than to say he couldn't keep a secret, so this is his secret now! Pettiness aside, Danny was going to message BatShadow to see if they had pictures of other heroes they hadn't posted.

Messages begins with BatShadow

(04-17-20xx)

ConstellationCruiser:

Hey, sorry to bother ya

I just saw your posts and was wondering if you have any pics of superman

BatShadow:

I don't know. I would have to look. I don't usually go to an area with him in it much, so no promises.

ConstellationCruiser: 

Thanks!! And that's fine really, it's just that your pics are amazing

BatShadow:

Thanks! Sorry, I have nothing for Supes.

ConstellationCruiser:

Damn

It's fine 

I wasn't really expecting much

I'm just surprised at the quality and quantity ya got there

BatShadow: 

It's super hard to get them without being caught but so worth it!

Danny continued talking to BatShadow about pictures and superheroes. Eventually switching to personal interest. Danny learns that BatShadow skateboards and in turn he tells them all about the stars. By the end of their conversation it was well into the night, Jazz wasn't going to be pleased. It was worth it though.

—-----

Danny ended up messaging again the next day, and the day after that. The other user was interesting and he was just so broad. Especially during these long summer days where Sam was off at some gala trip and Tucker was on vacation with his family. His parents being busy in the Lab at all hours and Jazz working a summer job didn't help. Even with Jazz trying to get him out of the house but it never really was worth it. Not with Dash and his gaggle out. Not without his friends there.

It's not like anyone besides Jazz would care about what he was doing online. Their parents were too caught up in drawing out plans and blueprints for a ghost portal or something. He doesn't care, it's more of the same for him. Don't get him wrong, he loved his parents and they loved him. They just pay more attention to their inventions, and this one happens to be one Danny can't help out with.

He's getting distracted. Danny was supposed to be cleaning the lab, not thinking of long gone days. It was taking way longer than he thought it would. His parents really aren't as careful with their samples as they really should be. After cleaning spilled ectoplasm from the vent grates he will finally be done, then he can get on the computer and add BatShadow on Steam. They were going to play Portal 2 together later.

—----

Tim didn't think he would still be talking to ConstellationCruiser. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, (if there was anyone to talk to in the first place), but he was lonely. So, sue him if he got attached to the other kid with too much free time on their hands. They may not have told each other their ages but it wasn't hard to figure out, they talked too similar.

It was nice to really connect with someone his age. ConstellationCruiser was smart like him, just in different areas. He had learned more about the stars and space travel in the last handful of months than he ever had in his 12 years of life. He knows he wasn't any better, going on about hacking and maybe the new murder mystery that came out. It was fun, learning about the other's interests and different things than what's normal for them. 

ConstellationCruiser's parents seem to have some type of lab in the basement of their house, which was cool in concept but concerning in practice. There have been times where they had to stop in the middle of a game they were playing together to check on an explosion they heard. It happened more than Tim was comfortable with but there's nothing he can really do about it. It's not like he was anyone better about certain aspects of his life either. He avoided the topic of food as much as possible, though it seems ConstellationCruiser is doing the same thing with the topic.

Tim just hopes the other won't worry over him not responding the next couple of days. He probably should warn them but this is time sensitive. Batman needs a Robin. The man is running himself into the ground. His new found grief choking him and by extension Gotham. He has to convince Nightwing to come back, no matter what it takes.

[nikki-pondtheauthor]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Danny Fenton & Talia al Ghul Characters: Damian Wayne, Danny Fenton, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne are Twins, Dysfunctional Relationships, Angst, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Danny Fenton Is So Done, Brothers, Unreliable Narrator, Based on a Tumblr Post, Sibling Rivalry, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, is Reconciliation possible?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, They don't get along because of personality differences rather, Being twins doesn't necessarily mean you'll get along, Not Beta Read, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Damian Wayne-centric, Danny Fenton-centric, Damian Wayne Tries, Damian Wayne Feels, Tired Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, not a happy reunion, Victim Blaming, Trauma Series: Part 3 of DPxDCShipWeek2023 Summary:

Damian was surprised and delighted to find out that his twin brother, Danyal, was not dead.

Though Danny can’t say the feelings were mutual.

[A "Damian and Danny are Twins" fic. But this time, they never liked each other.] ...

Day 3 of DPxDCShipWeek2023: Family/Friends | Coffee shop AU

Based on @infinity-dawning‘s Tumblr Post

[half-dead-ham]

Ch. 3 Hysteria

Chapter 3 of Dead men's Deals, courtesy of the DPxDC ship week! Day 1? Arranged marriages ofc ;). I thought it was a little ironic that I started this just before this was announced, but here we are!

Here's; [Ao3], [ch. 1 & prompt], [ch. 2]

The rest of Damian's patrol was maddeningly quiet, which of course meant that he had to run around with his siblings incessant prattling along the comm line. It seemed as though his half an hour of silence had caused quite the stir, and Richard was halfway to Gotham thanks to his silence.

  Joy.

  “Robin, you can’t be mad at me for worrying after you went quiet.” Richard huffed into the comm over the wind. “Forty-five minutes is a long time, and things could happen.”

  “I am fine, Nightwing. As I stated previously, an informant approached me about a private case that needed my attention. I did not realize he had a signal jammer on his person until he had left.” Damian snapped back as he reached the cave, pushing down most of his ire at his siblings' insistent mother-henning. He did not like being coddled when he was young, and he certainly did not like being coddled as an adult, it was demeaning to his skills.

  “You’re still getting checked for mental manipulation, Dami,” Timothy called from behind him, peeling his mask off and pushing his hair from his face. “No amount of treats will get you out of it tonight. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  And Damian wanted to argue, he really did. But then he remembered and felt that strange energy now nestled snugly in his chest next to his heart. It was cold, but not overly so. When he was not focusing on it he could almost make himself believe that that whole interaction was a hallucination, a figment of his overly stressed subconscious acting out to help him destress from something he couldn’t control. But then he would think about it again, and that cold something would move, reminding him that this was his reality.

  Something in him whispered about the absurdity of his life, another replied that this wasn’t even the strangest thing he’d experienced.

  “Fine, Drake. I’ll subject myself to your pointless tests, but only after I remove my gear.” Timothy almost looked surprised at how easily Damian agreed to the tests, he didn't know how easily he had swayed to please the being he had met now mere hours ago. How easily he wished to comply with the sense of trust that wasn’t his own. He felt it would be necessary to comply with the routine, no matter how tedious it was.

  They both made their way to the changerooms in silence after that, Timothy most likely deep in thought as to whether Damian’s new agreeableness was something to be celebrated or feared and Damian finally starting to tire after needlessly pushing himself for the first part of his patrol.

  It was reckless, now that the weight of so many uncertainties wasn’t nipping at the back of his mind like some sort of rabid animal. To exert himself in an attempt to outrun what he couldn’t control was pointless, and now he was paying the price for it in lead lined limbs. Nothing he needed to worry his siblings over, of course, that would only make him more suspicious. But he was finding the prospect of his soft, encompassing bed very inviting at this point.

  Damian had already taken his mask and cape off, and shucked one glove into his locker before he froze, thumb hooked under the lip of his remaining left glove.

  The mark.

  It would be visible to everyone once he took his glove off. Then he would need to explain Danny and the contract and the letter from his mother and then he would have to withstand Richards' whining. He could not let anyone see the mark.

  “Damian? You okay?” Timothy looked over, noticing his hesitancy and that he was still mostly in uniform. He did not like to linger in the changerooms and Timothy knew that. Even with his family and the years he’d spent in the manor he felt needlessly exposed being among others in a state of undress. Usually he would be changing as quickly and efficiently as possible to avoid being needlessly exposed for longer than needed be, but now… Damian moved his hand from the glove to his suit instead, intending to keep the glove on until the last possible moment.

  “How many times must I tell you that I am fine for you to accept it, Drake?” He snapped again without the heat, his mind elsewhere. Timothy simply huffed as he pulled on an old button down, then slipped back out into the cave to wait.

  There was no longer a reason for Damian to hesitate. Not that he was hesitating. Pointless hesitation was still a weakness Damian wouldn’t tolerate from himself even now. He slipped out of the rest of his suit and pulled his sweatpants on before focusing back on his still gloved left hand.

  Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the black snowflake with the stylized D resting just above his third knuckle and the band circling his middle finger. He stared at it, examining the minute fractals the tattoo branched into, eyes trailing the feather light lines that connected the D to the rest of the shape, turning his hand to better inspect the black ring now imprinted onto his digit.

  Danny had said he wished to annul the contract that had forced this mark onto his hand. Although Damian had threatened violence, there was no grand battle. Their interaction was brief but not unpalatable. And Danny…

  Exhaustion made his thoughts swirl through his head, making thoughts connect for a fraction of a second before breaking apart leaving him confused. Slipping his shirt on, he frowned. After all this time, he thought he was able to understand his own emotions better than this, after all this time, after all the talks he had had with his two eldest brothers. Damian had thought he would know how to feel after he had met the Lord of Death, but their interaction just left him lost.

  He hated how little control he had over the situation.

  He walked out of the changeroom toward his brother, hoping a good sleep and the answers from tomorrow night would help his tumultuous feelings.

~~~~~

      “Father,” Damian called after the head of the house as he headed to his office after breakfast. Bruce turned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as his youngest strode to catch up.

  “What’s up, chum?” He asked as he resumed his cant, keeping pace with his son.

  “I have… Information on the private case we discussed previously,” Damian confessed. His father raised an eyebrow at his words, confused.

  "The letter, father," he pressed, unconsciously clenching his left hand into a fist.

  His eyes widened in realization before the mask of the Bat settled on his father's face, expression hard and calculative. He nodded, then ever so slightly sped up his pace to the office.

  They walked in, and as soon as Bruce shut the door behind them he turned to Damian. “Did Talia send someone? Did you see her? Does it have anything to do with you comm going offline last night?”

  Damian took his place in one of the plush armchairs before replying with a heavy sigh. “Mother has not contacted me since she sent the letter father, I would have informed you otherwise and you know this.”

  Sitting down himself, Batman narrowed his eyes. “But this is related to why your comm went down last night?”

  Glancing to his hand, Damian nodded. Batman followed his gaze, but like Timothy the night previous, did not react to the black mark that now adorned Damian’s hand. It seemed, until proven otherwise at least, that no one but Damian and the Lord of Death could see their binding mark. Damian was both relieved that he didn’t need to explain the mark to his family, and frustrated that this was just one more thing he couldn’t validate were he to try.

  Huffing, Damian lifted his gaze back to his father. “I met my betrothed last night,” he stated flatly.

  Instantly tension gathered in his fathers frame, posed to react. From where Damian sat he could almost see the gears in Batman’s head working on plans and contingencies to keep his son safe from whatever monster that might wish to take him from them.

  He supposed that he wouldn’t be the only one getting shocked by his encounter.

  “Were you hurt?” Batman asked, his voice dropping to the tone he uses when asking for a mission report.

  “He did not hurt me,” he replied just as flatly as before. It was true, Danny had not harmed him in any lasting physical way. The jury is still out on any other way until tonight.

  Batman recognized all the things he didn’t say with his answer, narrowing his gaze as he studied his son. There were no doubt things he would be wanting to ask by what they meant, about how he may have harmed him in those forty-five minutes. Knowing they would get nowhere if they stayed on this topic, Damian pushed ahead, “He asked to meet again tonight so that he may explain more about our… arrangement.”

  “No,” Batman immediately states, much to Damian’s annoyance. “You aren’t going to meet a dangerous being we know nothing about.”

  “But father, he has answers,” Damian retorts emphatically. “Answers about this whole mess that Mother has dropped on us.”

  “Damian,” Batman glared at Damian, willing him to back down on this. Unfortunately, Damian has learned from his siblings to take that glare as a challenge. Neither backed down for what seemed like hours, Damian knew that if he were to look away it would be taken as a sign of weakness.

  Finally, Batman leaned back in his chair, tension slowly leaking out of his frame until only Bruce was left, sighing in only a way a tired father could. “You know I can’t let you do this alone, right?”

  Damian gave a sharp nod, “I know what risks could come with this. That is why I came to you, father, as no one else as of yet knows of my situation.”

  Bruce nodded, his expression shifting to something less tired and more thoughtful. His stance was firm about letting the rest of the family know about the contract, they were all gossip mongers and as soon as one of them knew the news would spread like wildfire. He would not be able to stop the comments from his siblings, and Richard’s planner must stay hidden at all costs now that he was staying in the manor for the near future. Cassandra might be an exception to that statement, she knew how to keep things hidden when they were important, but the rest he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw them.

  His father would hopefully take their family's nature into account in his planning.

  “Well then, I suppose I’ll have Dick take over my patrol route for tonight,” Bruce decided with a nod. He moved to get up, but Damian stopped him.

  “Father, what do you mean?” He asked, “Why would you require Richard to take your route?”

  Bruce chuckled as he strode to the door, “Well, chum, I’d need to have him take over if I’m joining you.” And then he left, much to his son's bafflement.

~~~~~

      Flying in big cities was always something Danny could use to relax. Being so high up with all the glittering lights below him gave him a sense of peace he couldn’t get in his regular day to day life. He hadn’t really done it since coming here, what with his marriage manhunt, but now that Danny found the guy, he could finally appreciate the city for the beauty it had.

  Ignoring all the sounds of gunshots and the stench, the place really was a gothic marvel. All gray stone buildings and gargoyles; Sam would love it here.

  Of course, he did have a destination for his flight. Tonight he needed to pick his partner in magic matrimony up so that they could have a proper conversation back at his apartment. Robin… Danny wasn’t going to lie, he had a crush on the vigilante, but right now voiding the contract was more important than trying to get to know the guy.

  The sun had set a few hours ago by now, prime time for the criminals to skitter out of their hiding places and the vigilantes to start herding them like cats playing with their prey. Perfect hours to go and get his birdy.

  Danny followed the pull at his core as he flew invisibly through the city, trying to remember what he had looked up throughout the day. The city’s vigilantes were something of a band of cryptids, as Danny found out. Seen when needed, but mysterious enough that no one could land any solid information about them. Even the knowledge people had on them was speculative at best, and any concrete evidence was locked behind a firewall so strong it would make Technus and Tucker both drool.

  He couldn’t find much on Robin, other than the odd theory thread talking about how many different kids might have taken up the mantle before the most recent one. Saying that it would've had to have been different kids because they all had different fighting styles, there were periods of time in between sightings sometimes where people think the kids have switched, and that their heights and ages had stayed relatively the same until the latest one.

  The latest one has apparently been around the longest, but out of the supposed others he’s the least well liked. Danny figured that was probably due to the whole ‘assassin family’ thing so he wasn’t about to argue. His own amazing media coverage gave him a better understanding of how people liked to portray people who did things differently. From what he noticed last night the guy was rough, sure, but he did his job and did it well, so what if the criminals got a few extra scrapes?

  This Robin has been around for a while now, and has actually aged. He was probably around the same age as Danny… hopefully. Ancients, he really hoped he wasn’t secretly a lot older or younger than him, that would be really awkward.

  Danny had to shake himself of his thoughts as the pull on his core grew stronger, telling him he was near his… mate? Ancients no, that was gross. His fiancé? That's closer, but it's not like he and Robin wanted this. Partner in a magically binding contract? Partner might be simplest in this case.

  He was coming up to the roof his partner was standing on, talking with someone over the comm in his ear.

  Hm…

  Danny really shouldn’t try to piss the guy off more than he probably already has, but what was a ghost king if he didn’t pull a prank every now and again? Really, Robin was in the perfect position for a harmless prank, where he knew what Danny was but wasn’t desensitized to his antics.

  Mind made up, Danny descended to the rooftop below with an unseen cheshire grin.

~~~~~

      Damian was in the middle of explaining what had happened on his last patrol in length to Batman when his comm gave out in a hiss of static. He hastily yanked it from his ear, wondering irately how he hadn’t noticed the disruption the first time he had met the Lord of Death. Scanning the rooftop around him, he narrowed his gaze as he realized there was no one else here.

  Except there was.

  The cold thing in the center of his chest was reacting to something, writhing in its space and giving off more feelings that weren’t his. They were weak, giving him ample ability to resist succumbing to them, but that it was giving off anything at all meant one thing; the Lord of Death was close.

  A breath of frost across the back of his neck had him spinning, birdarang in hand. There was no one behind him. A whisper of a chuckle form his left and he was repositioning, searching the shadows for any presence. Nothing. He kept his stance for a few moments longer, seeing nothing but feeling a chill crawl up his spine.

  “Boo.”

  Damian spun, throwing the birdarang in the direction of the voice as he rolled to avoid whatever possible attack might happen in that second. The birdarang clanged against an air conditioning unit and stuck, its target missed completely.

  Or so he thought, until a laugh echoed out from a few feet in front of him.

  The Lord of Death melted into view, clutching his stomach as he curled in on himself in laughter.

  “Oh- oh my Ancients!” He wheezed through gasps. “You should’ve seen your face. Oh man,” his laughter started dying out as he uncurled, wiping a fake tear from his waterline with a finger. “I really needed that. How many people in this city can say they’ve surprised one of the Bats?”

  “That was unnecessary,” Damian sneered at the being across from him as he reluctantly dropped his stance.

  “It really wasn’t,” Danny countered, walking over to pick the discarded birdarang out of the aluminum siding of the conditioning unit. “I find it's best to have a bit of humor before you start talking about heavy topics.”

  Damian crossed his arms as Danny turned back to him. “There is nothing humorous about someone sneaking up on me only to pull such a childish prank.”

  The Lord of Death just shrugged, “Was funny for me. Anyway,” he made his way back across the roof to stand in front of Damian, his expression melting into something more muted as he started playing with the blade. “You ready to get a better picture of just how badly our ancestors screwed us over?”

  Damian canted his hips, silently asking himself if he was really going to ask this instead of just allowing his father to tail them. They had made a plan; Damian would go with the Lord while Batman followed behind, and should something happen to Damian he would whistle to alert his father who would then race to aid him.

  Only, with a better view of Danny’s disappearance and subsequent reappearance, he had to wonder how well their plan would work. Were Danny to disappear with him, there would be little chance for his father to find them, since the signal jammer that killed his comm had also killed his tracker upon review. Would he either ask an embarrassing question, or risk needless danger? The answer was easy.

  “I have a condition for going with you,” Damian asserted, to the Lord’s curiosity.

  “Oh?”

  “I wish to bring someone along with us, so I am not being led into a trap alone.” The offer was simple, yet Damian still prepared himself in case the being before him did not like what was given.

  The Lord of Death nodded thoughtfully, to Damian’s utter confusion. “Yeah, that’s totally valid reasoning.” Danny conceded, “I don’t mind if you bring someone. It's the person on the other roof, right?”

  What?

  Danny turned to face the adjacent building on which Batman had chosen to keep watch of their interaction, though he was out of sight. How was he able to tell where Father had hidden himself?

  Damian resisted a sigh as he watched the other wave where he approximated his father was, hidden in the shadow of the taller office building on the other side. There were no differences in the shadows from where he stood, and Danny wasn’t in any better position to see. It must be another ability of his, he supposed, as Danny turned back to him.

  “You wanna call them over then?” Danny asked him innocently, as though he hadn’t just given Damian permission for backup to face a potentially extremely dangerous situation. This man was truly either brave or foolish.

  Still, with a curt nod Damian whistled thrice, once long and two short; their signal for regrouping. Even with Father not expecting the change in plans it took no time for him to appear out of the shadows and join them on the roof. Damian watched as Danny tracked his father's path, never failing or backtracking to re-catch sight of the Dark Knight amongst the pitch black.

  “Robin,” Batman intoned as he came upon them, keeping his gaze on target as he asked his not-question. Damian just cocked his head to the side in a silent ‘well?’ to their mysterious informant, breaking him out of the near awed stare he dawned upon seeing his father in the light.

  Danny cleared his throat before giving a smile. “Well, since your wish has been fulfilled you think we could get going now?” He crooked his thumb over his shoulder, “We’re burning moonlight afterall…”

  Damian rolled his eyes behind his mask but nodded, preparing himself for the journey by shifting his feet, getting ready to run. Only, as soon as he got confrontation the Lord of Death’s smile grew impossibly wide and lunged, grabbing onto both vigilantes with deceptively strong hands and pulling them with him into a swirling green tear. Neither could free themselves in time, and so they fell in after the Lord of Death.

tagged peeps: @mnemovoid

[halfagone]

DPxDC Ship Week 2023 - Day 5

Rated: T

Ship Chosen: Tim Drake/Danny Fenton (Dead Tired)

Summary: Tim might be crushing on his friend, Danny. He wished that was his biggest problem right now.

Excerpt without context:

“You’re the heir to VladCo.?” Tim asked, hands on his hips.

Danny squinted at him in confusion. “Yes? I already told you this?”

“No, you didn’t!” Tim exclaimed.

Now Danny just looked indignant. “Yes, I did! Even if you don’t remember that part, how could you not have figured it out?! I literally call him Vlad, to your face. He wants me to take over the company? I’ve told you how he works in security-”

“I thought you meant home security, not national security,” Tim hissed, throwing up his hands in the air.

[tourettesdog]

My (late) submission for Day 4 of DPxDC Shipweek (Wings AU)! uwu

[darknesswillfall]

Jej piękne czarne oczy

Work is in English!

Cassandra Cain/Jazz Fenton

Teen and up!

Coffee shop au!

Jazz Fenton questioned every decision in her life, when she saw her college schedule. Classes at 5.30 am? She knew why every other student from Gotham University turned out to be a villain. She's thinking about it too. Especially after her favourite startbucks gets blown up by a villain.

Fortunately she finds new cafe with a resident vigilante inside. Apparently, they come here so often, they have a personalized button for an order. Well, at least this won't blow up.

@dpxdcshipweek

[stars-burn]

Dani is pretty pleased to have found herself a new father figure in John Constantine. He doesn't know quite how this happened, but from what he's heard of her 'father', he can't do much worse than that piece of shit.

Vlad Masters, meanwhile, is having to come to terms with the fact he does care about his erstwhile clone creation. Particularly once he starts hearing about someone else parenting "his" child.

Team Phantom is not quite helping anyone's sanity with their assumptions that Dani's new dad must logically be Vlad's ex husband.

A very belated entry for Day 6: Enemies to Lovers AU

[gremlin-bot]

Lance through a Kyrptonian Heart

I blame @precarious-hermit for this. @dpxdcshipweek

Ao3 link: here

Edward Lancer loved Amity Park, even with the daily ghost attacks, but by the Ancients does he miss his hometown. Smallville was a distant memory for him, the farms and the town’s sweetheart family. He hasn’t seen Clark in a long time. One would think childhood friends would keep in better touch but alas, being a teacher and journalist tends to take over one’s life. 

Growing up in Smallville was nice. He remembers long summer days spent at the Kent's farm helping Clark out here and there with chores. The easy ones, at least, seeing as his family was one of the few that did own or help on a farm. Daring the inhuman boy to eat metal and different unusual things, as little kids do. Trying to help Clark with blending in with humans. Letting him learn by example and sometimes telling him, no, we can't eat the can we put the beans in. 

Edward still chuckles at those memories. Growing up with an alien as a best friend was surprisingly helpful in his daily life. He just wishes that Danny Fenton would tell him, or some adult about his new found inhumanness, it would be easier on the boy. He's getting away from himself now. He's supposed to relax on his vacation to Metropolis, not think about the problems of his students.

The drive to the city was long but worth it to see and actually catch up with his childhood best friend. He's supposed to stay in the man's spare room. He's glad that Clark offered, the hotels were just too expensive for his budget. He hopes that Lois doesn't mind, last he knew, her and Clark had a kid and were happily married.

He’s very happy for them, for Clark. Thinking about Clark's relationship with Lois hurts a bit, an old, familiar ache of want and longing that comes from a long standing crush from childhood. He could never really get over his best friend, and he's fine with that. He accepted that he will always be too much of a coward to tell Clark how he feels.

Edward sighs as he finally turns into a parking spot of a lot next to the coffee shop they agreed to meet at. He takes slow deep breaths to settle himself. It was just past noon and the sun was shining nicely in the summer sky. A perfect day for a meeting of old friends.

A bell jingles as he opens the door. The bittersweet smell of coffee and pastries fills the space. The shop had a comfortable homey style that he enjoyed. He must have got here right after the lunch rush, as there was barely a line. Gettinghis coffee was a quick affair. Finding a place to sit so he could call Clark, however, took a bit longer. He ended up in a small two person booth on the back wall. Before he had even finished his phone out of his pocket, Clark opened the doors to the shop. 

Clark skips getting coffee completely and heads straight to Edward, a bright smile on his face that seems like it was only for him and oh did that do things to his heart. Taking a small moment to prepare himself, he stands to greet the man that his cowardice would never let him have.

"Clark, It feels like forever since we saw each in person!" Edward is proud to say his voice didn't betray him in this moment.

"Yeah, it has!" Clark forgoes a handshake, instead, he crushes Edward in a too-strong hug. Edward has to tap the man to remind him that he isn't made of steel. It only lasted less than a minute, but it had Edward melting."How have you been?"

"I've been good." He gestures for Clark to take a seat before he sits himself. "I have an interesting student that I'm keeping an eye on. He seems to develop a similar thing to what you had as a kid. Otherwise the same old life." The look on Clark's face was worth the questions he would get later. 

"Oh wow. We'll have to talk about that later."

"I assumed so. How about you? I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Well, work has been good. A lot of new stories are coming up about certain companies I'm not allowed to say the name of at the moment. I've been a bit lonely since the divorce but it was for the best, you know?”

Edward almost choked on his coffee. "The divorce?" The hope that bloomed in his chest was a sick thing, but was there nonetheless. 

"Yeah. Lois and I got a divorce. She realized something about herself, hell I realized something about myself, and we decided to go our separate ways.” Clark chuckles a bit before continuing on. "We've been separated for 6-ish months now, still friends and all that, and I get Jon every other week. You'll probably see him before Lois picks him up."

"Oh, okay. How are you holding up with all of… that?" Edward can't begin to unravel how he feels about this whole thing. He feels bad that his friend went through this, but on the other hand he can't help but hope that he has a chance.

"I was bad the first couple months or so, but I did some searching and revaluated myself and our relationship. It was for the best. I got to meet her girlfriend last weekend. She is really nice, even made cookies for Jon and I." Clark beams a small smile at the memorie

"I'm glad it all worked out for you in the end. You should probably get something to eat. It's your lunch break, right?" Edward raises an eyebrow at the man across from him, causing said man to chuckle as he leaves to order his food.

Edward is relieved that his best friend is doing alright with his divorce, and even more so that Clark may not be so straight himself. After all it wasn't just Lois that realized something about herself, though It's best not to get his hopes up too high. There may be a chance, but he always  was a coward.

It doesn't take long for Clark to come back to the table with a nice looking sandwich, but he doesn't sit down. He looks a little sad, actually. 

"I just got a call from work, they want me back early to look over a story. I am so sorry."

"It's okay, Clark. I'll just-" Edward didn't get to finish his sentence as Clark shoved a set of keys towards him. 

"Here is a set of keys to my apartment. I already sent you the address and stuff. I’ve got to go, see you in an hour or two. I've got some things to tell you." Clark didn't wait for Edward to fully take the keys before he was out of sight. Well, this certainly gave Edward time to himself to let the whole conversation set in, at least.

Having time to himself was a bad idea. He kept on analyzing what Clark said over and over again. He's getting away from himself. A dangerous thought of actually telling the other man his feelings is plaguing his mind. He’s a coward and always has been, but maybe, just maybe he doesn't have to be about this anymore, and isn't that a striking thought. Edward Lancer actually admitting his feelings. His sister would be proud. He'll wait till Clark gets back, see what he has to say. Edward is still a coward after all, even with this bout of bravery. He just has to wait an hour or so.

Being in Clark's apartment without him was slightly strange but not the worst. He's using the new space as a distraction and time waster. It wasn't very effective, but it worked enough. 

He could tell which bedroom he would be staying in, a cozy light blue theme room with a queen sized bed. Setting up his things had taken under half an hour. He's going to need more things to distract himself with. He wandered around a bit finding where the bathroom is and what he thinks is Clark and Jon's rooms. He ended up in the living room fifteen minutes later.

He sits down on the couch, huffing. Deciding to turn on the TV as he waits, live coverage of Superman defeating some robot plays on the screen. Waiting is the worst when you are expecting something, and the news  wasn’t exactly helping.

It wasn't long after the news coverage ended that Clark burst into his apartment. Hair windswept and tie rumpled, a bit of blue peeking out from under his white button up. The smell wafting off of him is smoky with a hint of something metallic.Strange, but not something he could bring up with the man at the moment. It would take a lot of explaining of ectoplasm and Amity Park. Honestly? It’s not worth it, unless Clark ever decided to visit. He was getting distracted again, this really isn't like him at all.

"Oh good, you've settled in!" Clark said slightly out of breath. Now that was very unusual.

"Clark, are you okay? You're out of breath. Did you get caught up in the fight with Superman…" a slow realization crawls on Edwards face. "Oh Paradise Lost, you are Superman." 

Clark had the decency to look sheepish as he answered. "I was going to tell you, tonight. After the original thing I needed to tell you, but yes I'm Superman."

"I know too many inhuman superheroes. Go change out of your suit, and then let’s talk, please." Edward runs his hand down his face as he hears the wind whip around Clark as he moves about the apartment.

Clark is back to the living room in sweatpants and a t-shirt by the time Edward's hand drops from his face. He really shouldn't be surprised, the man had a heart of gold. It was one of the reasons Edward fell for him in the first place.

"Thank you. Now what was the thing more important than your secret identity that you had to tell me?" Edward will not get his hopes up, but the feeling in his chest says he is a liar.

"Well, it's best if I start at the beginning. Mainly for my sake rather than yours. I have no doubt that you would understand but uh, yeah." Clark's hand is rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous habit he never did kick. "Like I said at the coffee shop, Lois and I got a divorce. Turns out that she figured out that she's a lesbian. I'm happy for her! Really! But it caused me to look at our relationship, and myself, in a new light. It spiraled into my own realization, one that had me look back at our relationship." Clark took a deep breath, looking at Edward with caring eyes. Edward' heart was pounding in his chest. Hope that he had denied didn’t seem so foolish anymore.

"Edward Lancer, I think I've been in love with you since the summer before you moved out of Smallville." Clark's small unsure smile melted what was left of him.

"That's good, because I think I have been too!" Edward walks from his spot on the couch to where Clark had been standing, too far away for too long. Embracing the other in a tender hug. Light laughter bubbling up from both men.

"Can I kiss you?" Clark asks, ever the gentleman.

"I've been waiting to hear that for too long. Yes, please." 

Edward starts to lean in, meeting Clark halfway. The kiss is soft and tender, everything Edward has ever wanted and more. He hopes that Clark feels the same.

[nikki-pondtheauthor]

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics) Ratings: Mature Relationships: Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson, Danny Fenton/Dick Grayson Characters: Danny Fenton, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Koriand’r (DCU) Additional Tags: Coming of Age, Childhood Friends, Danny Fenton-centric, Dick Grayson-centric, Demisexual Danny Fenton, Bisexual Dick Grayson, Angst, Fluff, Developing Friendships, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, and many more... Summary:

“Some things are meant to be…some are not. No matter how much we wish they were.”

The first time Danny met Dick was back when they were eight years old. When Haly’s Circus had come to Amity Park for their world-tour performance. …

Day 1/February 13: Firsts/Lasts | Arranged Marriage AU

[creativebkt]

Soul for a Soul

Welcome to possibly the beginning of this blog's busiest week. We're kicking off the DPxDC Ship Week 2023 with some Danny and Damian "Arranged Marriage AU" content.

Danny is the crowned Prince of Ghosts. Damian is the Demon Prince. With the ghosts gearing up for war, this is turning into a problem. A Dead Serious problem.

DPxDC Ship Week 2023 prompt: Firsts/lasts - Arranged marriage AU - Monday 13

((For more information on the DPxDC Ship Week, check out >>this post<<))

[halfagone]

DPxDC Sapphic Week 2024 - Day 1

Rated: Gen

Prompts:

Danielle "Dani" Phantom/Lian Harper "I tell you, someone will remember us in the future."  Butch x Femme

Summary:

A wedding reception makes a young Lian Harper and Dani Fenton think about their own future together.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[half-dead-ham]

With chaos brings Justice

My last entry for the DpxDCshipweek, sad I couldn't get through it in it entirety, but happy I made some for it at all!

links: [Ao3] Wc: 6656 Cw: implied/referenced torture

John Constantine was a man of few pleasures. He liked booze, nights with a full bed and belly, and keeping his head attached to his shoulders.

 So when he felt a surge of chaos magic flood the board room of the Justice League Watchtower one long morning into their bi-monthly meeting that for some reason he decided to show up to, he felt any chance of him recovering this day with booze or food leave the solar system entirely.

 Before the other Leaguers even felt the pressure change that came with teleporting magics John was on his feet, readying a defence spell just in case who (or what) decided to attack first, talk second. ‘Course the other gits just saw him knock back his chair with a flask of whatever he’d poured himself last night and thought for a second he was trollied.

 He always loved it when the other blokes did that. Fuckin’ hell, where was Zatanna when you needed her?

 He would’ve cracked a smile when the rest of them finally got the memo that sumthin’ foul was afoot, but John was too focused on the fact that he recognized the magic to try and play this off as anything but deadly serious. Why was he the only one here that was able to deal with this particular brand of chaos? Why couldn’t he have bloody stayed home like all the other bloody times he’d missed a meeting?

 The magic was perceptible now, a swirling red cloud hovering over the conference table like it might start raining blood, a static in the air, the smell of lamp oil and chaos magic making John's nose twitch. There wasn’t any use in trying to fool himself as a figure formed in the cloud, and any trace of those lovely effects of his bevvy of choice went straight out the airlock.

 A pale-faced child emerged from the mist, curly black hair with two styled points partially obscuring a set of beady black eyes that looked down their nose at the group surrounding the table.

 “Klarion,” the teen turned to John, expression unusually flat. The witch boy Hadn’t yet said anything, and his blasted familiar kept its place on his shoulder, hissing but not leaping into action.

 Now that John got a good look at the chaos magic user he almost wanted to look surprised. Klarion had changed his style; no longer was he dressed in puritan settler chic, now he wore dark jeans with black converse, a white t-shirt with the runic symbol for creation in red, and a black sleeveless overcoat. It looked grunge, and John could almost appreciate it.

 Almost.

 “Now what does the infamous Witch Boy need that he’s ‘ported in 'on our lovely gathering?” John asked, seeing as the teen (an’ he looked like a proper teen now, didn’ he?) wasn’t feeling especially chatty. His defensive spell was almost complete, if John could just keep the lil shit distracted for a little longer-

 “Stupid heroes, I have come because I have a task for you,” the Witch boy announced, looking like he sucked a lemon while saying it.

 John could see a few others in the room looking at each other in confusion, but he kept his eyes firm on the brat in front of him. “Oh? An’ what task would require our services, oh mighty mage?”

 The Witch Boy’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly not liking the sarcasm in his tone. Surprisingly, to him at least, Klarion turned to Superman, not falling to the taunt like he would’ve before.

 “Someone I respect has been captured by the American government, and while I would have no problem raising the place to the ground myself-” more than a few of the heroes present tense at that, “-this person would only find more trouble in me doing so.”

 Now that brought up a nice heap of questions for the surrounding men in tights. Why, or better yet how does Klarion know someone that needs help from the Justice League. Someone who he apparently respects enough to go for help from a group of stuffy adults with sticks shoved so far up their-

 "And why should we help you?" The big ol' Bat asks what's on the tip of everyone's tongues.

 Klarion turns to the Caped Crusader with the most serious expression John had ever seen on the Witch Boy. "Because the High King of the Dead needs help escaping the living, and you guys love to make sure this stupid plane of existence doesn't fall to war."

~~~~~

   "You seriously aren't helping, Witch Boy!" Danny calls out to the cackling teenager as he evades yet another tentacle from the thing coming out of the side of a large floating island. More of a mountain, really, but Danny's a little too tied up to care.

 "Hit 'em again!" The pale-faced teen on the sidelines jeered as the ghost boy shot off another volley of ectoblasts towards what he's starting to dub as a hermit-ectopus. Grimacing, Danny did just that, raining a hail of green towards the writing mass of tentacles, finally pushing the thing back in its cave enough so that he could seal the entrance with ice.

 With that out of the way, Danny could finally take a breather. He put his hands on his knees for stability as he panted, annoyed. Ancients curse that stupid Witch Boy, he may not need to breathe in this form, but that was one hell of a workout. 

 The cackling to his left was finally starting to die down, but not before he heard the idiot making his way closer. One final exhale and he straightened back up, giving the other teen a side glare Mr. Lancer would be proud of.

 "Give me one good reason I shouldn't soup you right now, cat boy," he demanded with a scowl as he crossed his arms.

 "'Cause you still need me to help you get that stupid antidote for your stupid friends!" Klarion quipped back immediately, smug smirk stuck on his face. "Besides, it's not like your weak little can'll be able to do anything to me."

 "You're the one who poisoned them in the first place," he sneered back, letting his hatred of the other boy leak out through his aura while trying not to worry himself over Sam and Tucker back home.

 Klarion got closer, smirk growing menacingly wider, "Well who was the ghost that kept ignoring me? This is your fault and you know it."

 Danny said nothing, just punched Klarion in the face before flying off into the mountain grumbling, leaving the Witch Boy to deal with the blood falling onto his tie by himself.

~~~~~

   "Constantine, what do you know about this 'High King of the Dead'?" Batman asked after pulling the mage into the hall. They had left Superman to deal with the details and negotiations. He's always been better at that.

 "Not much, Batsy," John sighed, really wishing he could pull out a smoke. If it weren't for those blasted 'no smoking' rules the furry in front of him enforced, he'd be chugging like a train right 'bout now.

 Batman simply glared at the man for a moment before John got the unsaid ‘well, get on with it’. “Alright, alright, I do know some things, but I don’t know how useful they’ll be!”

 “Explain.”

 John sighed, “Not much information about the ruling body of the dead gets through to the realm of the living, that whole ‘dead men tell no tales’ bit. What I know of a King of the dead was that he was a right bastard that wanted his cake and e’ryone else's. Got locked in some coffin or what have you by his ruling court, and hasn’t been heard from for about two millennia ‘til the new one came about.”

 “And this new king, is he anything like the last one?”

 Before John could confirm or contradict the question a sharp laugh came from the other side of the conference doors. The two detectives looked at each other before heading back in, Klarion watching from his seat on the table as they rejoined the group.

 “The new High King of the Dead is nothing like the last one,” the Witch Boy stated with a sneer.

 Batman turned to Superman, asking with a silent tilt of the head. He got a head shake and shrug in return. “We were talking about why he would need us specifically when he just started laughing.”

 “Oh?” The occult detective spoke up, “And what makes you say that? If you respect him he must be pretty similar, eh? Why do you or him need our help?”

 Klarion looked down, a pinched expression taking over his face. “He’s nothing like me. He’s good.”

~~~~~

   Wind tore through Danny’s hair as he flew up to the massive Vortex rampaging through mid- America. He could barely see five feet in front of him before a tree or the rare car nearly takes him out of the sky. Klarion’s magic could be seen on his ten o’clock, trying to stop the raging wind before it throws something at him too. Danny dove to grab onto the magic caster, turning him intangible before the broad side of a barn could crash into him.

 “What did you even do to make him this angry‽” Danny yells over the wind, pulling the concentrating Witch boy to another spot so they could be harder to hit. It doesn’t help, as half a tree still nearly decapitates them.

 “Absolutely nothing!” Klarion ground back through his teeth, “He just started chasing me through the Realms! I thought I could lose him in this plane but he just followed me!”

 Another tree sailed their way, and Danny had to drag the other teen out of its path. He shot a volley of ectoblasts at some clumps of dirt launching themselves at them, breaking them up before they were close enough to hit them.

 “How long ‘til your spell finishes‽” Danny asks, throwing more ectoblasts into the swirling vortex of carnage. The tornado consumes them greedily, returning fire with debris from an old storage barn it had picked up.

 “Not fast enough!” Klarion shouts back, now flying under his own power as the harder parts of the spell conclude.

 They weave through projectiles after that, Danny obliterating the larger objects thrown their way so Klarion could focus more on his spell. They were at least lucky enough that they had lured Vortex out to farm country, where they could easily provoke him out of the way of any towns. That left just the crops and their tools for the weather ghost to throw.

 At least, until Danny spotted some larger buildings.

 “Better speed that spell up, Witch Boy!” Danny urged, realizing they were heading towards the city, and fast.

 “I’m going as fast as I can!” Was all the other teen could retort as he ground his teeth further, doubling his efforts anyway. Red light swirled fiercely around the pale boy, encircling him and his familiar before suddenly launching outwards to wrap around the tornado. The wind picked it up easily, quickly turning the angry winds and clouds above a sickening blood red colour. A triumphant grin spreads across Klarion’s face at the turn of events, a giggle bubbling up before being stolen by the wind. Danny would almost be scared at the situation if it were him that smile was going against, but right now he was just a little relieved.

 Klarion spoke one final word to his spell, and with it the red smoke pulsed bright, lighting up the whole cloud before the funnel just disappeared, leaving some dark yet still clouds above them. Danny could only stare at the sight in awe.

 “What did you do dude?” He asked, noticing the odd change in the air around them. It was strangely still, almost-

 “I froze the air in place, of course,” Klarion huffed hotly, and Danny turned his awed gaze to the teen next to him.

 “You froze the air?” 

 “Well,” Klarion’s cheeks started to gain an almost normal complexion as his blush rose at the attention. “It’s not frozen frozen, but I made it so it wouldn’t move. So yes, I froze the air.”

 When Danny didn’t move or change his expression Klarion’s blush only grew. Teekl gave a lax “meow” from the Witch Boy’s shoulders, breaking Danny’s trance and allowing Klarion the time to unruffle his proverbial feathers. The witch Boy coughed lightly in his hand as he turned away.

 “Teekl’s right, shouldn’t you be doing your job now? I’ve done all the hard work, pick up the slack Ghost Boy.” Only his familiar saw the light green blush spread over the ghosts cheeks before he gave a nod and flew off towards where he could sense the weather spirit.

 “Meow,” Teekl commented playfully.

 Klarion blushed harder, “Oh shut up you hairball.”

~~~~~

   The Javelin was speeding into earth's atmosphere towards the Americas, half of the Leaguers who had been in the meeting previously plus one chaos mage nestled inside. They had decided an impromptu rescue mission was in order, despite some worries of the Witch Boy leading item into a trap.

 Batman remedied this by keeping Superman on standby, Shazam on call, and taking Manhunter with them to catch any lies the teen might be telling them.

 The plane was dead quiet, and it was honestly making Hal antsy, especially sitting so close to someone they consider an enemy. His solution? Small talk.

 “So,” the green lantern drawled as he swiveled his chair to face the teen. “From the way you talk about this King it sounds like you have something a little more than ‘respect’ for the guy. Care to elaborate?”

 Klarion gave the Green Lantern a long side eye, making Hal even antsier in his seat. Seriously, how can a kid this dorky be this creepy?

 A terse meow from the cat in the boy’s lap and the stare broke, and suddenly Hal felt he could breathe again. Klarion sighed heavily, like the topic exhausted him before he even started, but before Hal could rescind his words the Witch Boy was talking.

 “The King of the Dead and I have known each other for a few years now,” he started. “And while at the beginning we were basically at each other's throats, after his coronation we figured out we didn’t really want to be enemies anymore. Looking back we had probably already decided that without saying anything, but it just got awkward to think about after.”

 “This king was crowned recently?” Batman asked from his place at the wheel.

 “Within the last three years, if I remember right,” Klarion replied flippantly. The Bat nodded, taking his focus back to flying to their charted destination. Not wanting more stifling silence, Hal picked the conversation back up.

 “If you’ve known the King of the Dead for over three years you guys must be pretty close, huh?”

 The Witch Boy huffed, “Yes, you could say that.”

 “So could you maybe tell us more about him? What’s he like? Does he have a hobby? Don’t leave us hanging man!” Hal was encroaching on a jeer with his tone, though he died down quickly at the flat stare he received from both mage and familiar. If Diana hadn’t spoken up he might've been afraid of turning into a toad.

 “I am also curious, Klarion. You haven’t told us much about someone you seem to care greatly over, anything you could tell us about them would help us settle whatever dealings they have with the American government.” At the moment the princess mentioned the government Teekl was on alert, Klarion’s expression soured with the change.

 “The ‘dealings’ they have with your stupid higher powers is that they want to hunt his kind for sport and resources,” He spat, to the astonishment of the league members. Bruce and Diana shared a glance from the front seats, dread seeping into Bruce’s gut at the news.

 “Could you explain that further? We need to know if we want to fix this,” Diana asked more seriously, motioning for Hal to take her seat as copilot so she could focus more on the conversation at hand.

 (Hal was thankful for the distraction.)

 “Your government,” the teen hissed, eyes glinting dangerously red before settling back to their eerie black. “Has been trying to catch Phantom since before I met him. They’ve deemed anything that holds ectoplasm in their body as unfeeling and mindless, and deemed them worthy of extermination and experimentation.”

 “That can’t be legal, non-humans are protected under the Metahuman rights acts.” Diana comments with a frown.

 Klarion rolls his eyes at the princess, “Everyone says that when they hear it, but I assure you, Phantom has talked my ear off about the Anti-ecto acts more times than I care to count. They’re real, and heavily enforced.”

 Diana gave a sidelong glance to the front of the ship, noticing Batman already searching for these ‘acts’ while ever so slightly speeding up their flight. It was worrying that even Bruce didn’t know about this, considering his incessant need to keep up with things that could inevitably cause harm to those he wants to protect. She left that for him to deal with, refocusing the conversation back to lighter topics. “You mentioned ‘Phantom’, is this the king’s name?”

 The Witch Boy gave a small hum, hand moving to idly stroke Teekl’s fur as they settled with the change of topic. “He told me it was originally the name he chose for himself when he started protecting his little town, and by the time he was crowned the ghosts all knew him by that name and it stuck.”

 “Oh? The king is a hero?” Aside from Deadman, she had never heard of any spirits calling themselves heroes. Though it wasn’t entirely a surprise that another spirit wished to help others from beyond the grave.

 Another hum from the teen in front of her, face reading more thoughtful as he presumably went back to the first time they had met. “Yes, he was doing something incredibly stupid, though he called it ‘heroic’ at the time. I still don’t see why he needed to destroy that artifact after he rewrote reality, but then again he was still a boy when he did that.”

 …

 “Pardon?” Diana said, stunned. Klarion either didn't notice the stunned silence he had created or didn’t care as he continued.

 “After that I went to play with him every so often, sometimes playing a few pranks so he would stop ignoring me. He absolutely hated me when we first started, but I like to think I grew on him,” the Witch Boy gave a smirk at the memory, still not noticing the silence in the shuttle.

 She could feel Hal’s eyes on them, incredulity practically oozing from his seat in front of her. Instead of meeting the Green Lanterns with one that was sure to match, she looked to J’onn, who had quietly been assessing their guest the whole flight. He had his head cocked as he faced the teen, but nodded when Diana turned. The boy told no lies.

 They might need to reassess this King of the Dead’s threat level.

~~~~~

   A cacophony of cheers resound in the courtyard of Pariah’s Keep, now renamed officially to Phantom’s Fortress with the crowning of the new king. Danny peered out from beyond the curtain to the courtyard, his ascendance ceremony freshly ended and a crown of arora and ice twirling lazily over his snow white hair.

 “I still can’t believe this many ghosts want me on the throne… I thought everyone hated me with the way I chase them out of Amity all the time…” He marveled to himself, still not quite believing what just happened. He was a King now. He had people to rule. And they actually liked him.

 Though with the reputation of the last king, he supposed that a potato could’ve taken the throne and they would’ve been happy.

 “Is it that hard to believe that maybe you aren’t that hard to like?” A voice jokes from behind the new king, and turning from his peeping spot he couldn’t help the grin that spread. Klarion was standing not too far behind him, one arm behind his back in the clothes they picked out together. He looked good, like he belonged in this century now, and even with his posture radiating nervous energy, Danny could tell he was a lot more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans than that stuffy puritan suit.

 “I was thinking those odds were in-phantasmal, but I guess the chance was higher than I thought. I’m glad you could make it.” His smile grew slightly at the pink tint to the Witch Boy’s ears, but he went against the thought of pointing out how cute it was.

 Klarion scoffed, as though the notion of not coming was even something that crossed his mind. “As a lord of chaos, it would be remiss of me to not show up for the coronation of a potential fellow lord. Besides, you asked me to come specifically, it would be impolite to refuse.”

 Danny gave a snort at the response, he knew very well that if the other teen didn’t want to be here he would’ve refused the invitation outright. It was nice not having to fight the other anymore, after the battle with Vortex they started fighting less and hanging out more, Danny could even take him to the mall now without a struggle. Sure, Klarion was still trapped in the past with his underground village, but slowly he was starting to relax, have some fun that didn’t destroy everything around him.

 It was nice to hang out with someone he didn’t have to hold back with.

 “So, is there a reason you’re just standing there awkwardly?” Danny asked, letting a chuckle escape at the flat stare he received. A year ago he would’ve gotten a magic blast to the face for that.

 Instead Klarion sighed, eyes glancing around the ornate hall before sighing again. “I figured- I mean- I- ugh…” the Witch Boy kept stuttering before petering off into a grumble. Danny accidentally let another chuckle escape at how cute the other teen was being, causing said teen to glare a hole into the carpet, before letting out a growl. He stomped up to Danny, so close he had to back up a step or they would be in each other's personal space, and suddenly his vision was full of orange and purple with a spatter of red.

 Another step back put the colours in focus. A bouquet of flowers was being thrust towards him by a furiously blushing Klarion, whose eyes were currently on a rather interesting vase.

 “What are these for?” Danny asked as he relieved the bouquet from the others' vice grip.

 “For you, to congratulate you on becoming king. The orange ones are lilies, the purple flowers are irises and gerberas, and the little red ones are bloody williams. The lady at the store said they say “I’m happy for your success” in flower language.” Klarion looked like he was ready to say more, he probably had a whole speech about these, but Danny just couldn’t get over the fact that one of the biggest (previous) pains in his ass just started blushing and gave him flowers.

 “Thank you,” he said, cutting off whatever Klarion was rambling about with a genuine smile. Klarion stared for a second, before blinking and clearing his throat.

 “Of course,” he replied, blush spreading all the way down his neck.

~~~~~

   The Javelin touched down a ways off of a squat white building. It was rather nondescript, save for the perimeter fencing circling the compound lined with guards.

 “This is the place?” Batman asked tersely as they disembarked the plane. None of the armed men had seen them yet, it would give them the advantage in the infiltration.

 “I wouldn’t lie to you about something so important,” the Witch Boy replied, narrowing his eyes at the compound before them. He could feel Danny in there, the strange mix of life and death energies radiating off the half-ghost was an ever present comfort to the Witch boy by now, and he was especially glad for it now.

 He wouldn’t have been able to find him so quickly without it.

 “I sense something heavy in the compound,” Manhunter noted with a frown.

 Batman, ever the detective, wanted to know more, “Elaborate.”

 The martian’s face twisted as he focused, reaching out with his mind to better read the heavy -no, oppressive- cloud that covered the compound, before gasping, recognition and anguish passing over as he physically recoiled. Green Lantern was there to steady him by the shoulders before he could so much as stumble.

 “What did you feel?” The Dark Knight compelled once it was clear there were no lasting effects of his reaching out.

 “Pain,” he replied shakily. “So much pain and suffering, hanging over the building like a fog. It is unnaturally powerful, if I hadn’t known beforehand, I would assume an entire city was under attack and not a single building.”

 The Dark Knight said nothing, simply taking what was said to heart. He moved forward with purpose, but before he could get too far a hand held him back. “Wait.”

 Batman looked down at the chaos mage, a single hand splayed out over his chest. “You need to know some things before I take you in there.”

 The  miniscule tilt of the taller man’s cowl was all Klarion needed to continue. “The facility is phase proof, the martian won’t be able to density shift through the walls, and the nature of their weapons are similar to Green Lantern’s constructs. You won’t get hurt badly if they hit you, but I’ve been told they burn.” All vital things to know. Batman's strategy would have to account for this, but he could still sense something from the teen, and so kept quiet.

 “And when we find Phantom? Get every agent you can out of there. He doesn’t like senseless killing, but I will not leave that building standing.”

 Batman gave a single nod, and with that Klarion enveloped the five in the red mist of his magic.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The plan was rather simple, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern were to be dropped off at the entrance to the building as a distraction and to round up the agents while Klarion, Manhunter and Batman were to use Klarion’s magic to infiltrate and locate the King. Klarion’s mist acted as a memetic, letting the gaze of the agents fall past them on their way through the building as they ran deeper to where he could feel Danny. They had to be careful to not touch anyone though, as the moment they did they would be able to see them.

 “Why can’t you teleport us in?” Baman asked as they rounded another stark white corner into another stark white hall.

 “Death energies, do strange things to magic,” Klarion panted his reply. He was not used to actually running, and he couldn’t figure out why some humans actually liked doing the activity. “With so much, charged death and ectoplasm in the air, better to not cause an explosion. So soon.”

 Another swerve and he could feel Danny more, could almost taste that distinct flavour of citrus and menthol, the strange combination of ectoplasm and life that surrounded his ghost. The smell of citrus was strong though, and Klarion was desperately hoping he wasn’t too late with this rescue. The first real good thing he tries to do and he ends up a moment too late.

 “The source of the pain is drawing nearer,” Manhunter informs them as they pass a windowed room. Batman breaks off to take a look inside, calling to the other two to keep going. Klarion never stopped.

 One more corner and the acidic sour smell of citrus was assaulting their noses, and they started passing doors more resembling operating room entrances than offices. Lights were still on over a few as they passed, and Klarion made sure to snake a coil of mist into those that did, leaving screams and indistinct, cut off pleas in their wake. Those ones especially could rot in hell for all he cared, the smell of everdeath roiled off those rooms, alluding to whatever horrors might have been performed in them. He knew only a fraction of the ectoplasm spilt in there was from the one he cherished, but that made them no less guilty.

 The final turn led them to a hall lined with a different type of door, these ones steel grey tinted green. Klarion loathed to see the colours he associated with his spirit used in a mockery against him, keeping Danny away from him. He stalked down, using his magic to blow every door off its hinges as he passed until he hit the one his beloved was in. Turning to face it, he held up his hand, willing his magic to grasp it and tear it from the wall, throwing it down the hall and uncaring what was in the way.

 Emotion charged ectoplasm rolled out of the small cell, settling around their feet like fog and weakly intermingling with klarion’s magic.

 The sight made the mage want to puke. And weep. And decimate this measly world that would dare touch his soul like this.

 Were it not for the Martian's presence he just might have.

 Danny was there, shackled to the wall with chains at his wrists and ankles, head weighed heavy by the collar around his neck and the fucking muzzle on his face. The ghost made no move to the light that now filtered into the space, he hung limply from his chains, lifelessly. Only the faint glow around Danny’s frame gave away that he was not yet truly ended.

 But the green.

 A shaky breath from behind the mage reminded him where he was, and he urgently entered the room. He went to work on the manacles, seemingly seamless, but with one whispered word they were releasing Danny into his arms.

 “Is he?..” The martian started, too afraid to finish the sentence lest it become a reality.

 “No,” Klarion breathed out shakily. “No he’s still… He’ll recover.” He has to.

 “He’s so young,” Manhunter observed with a pained face as Klarion lowered to the floor of the cell, turning the ghost so he could hold him by the shoulders while he worked on getting his ankles freed.

 “He was even younger when he started,” with Danny's ankles freed, all that was left was the inhibitor collar and that damned muzzle. He did away with the muzzle first, desperate to see his cherished spirit's face. No magic was needed for it, thankfully, just a simple lock keeping it around the halfa’s face. Klarion gingerly removed the offending device, tossing it at a wall and making a note of obliterating it before he left. There were already chafe marks around Danny’s cheeks and on his nose, green and nearly raw from it pressing his jaw shut.

 How long has he been here for them to look so raw?

 Klarion had only been away for two months at the most, off on some insignificant errand after finding the piece of an artifact drifting in the Realms. Insignificant because apparently while he was away, his cherished one had gotten captured trying to save one of his people from this moronic group. When he had finally returned, he had to be informed about his capture. The rage he felt then… He hopes Danny wouldn’t be too mad at him for the damage he caused to the Fortress.

 A breathy groan followed by a sharp intake of breath and subsequent coughing brought Klarion out of his what if spiral. Danny was waking up, bleary eyed and confused at first -no doubt concerning his orientation- but a few seconds after the couches settled green eyes focused on black.

 “Hey, Rion,” the ghost king gave a small watery smile. “Glad you could finally make it. How was  your adventure?”

 “Stupid ghost-” Klarion has to reel back the power he was putting behind his voice with a breath that came out more like a sob. “Do you know how worried I was when you weren’t in Amity? In the Fortress? I was away for two damn months and you almost got yourself ended Danny!”

 Danny gave a chuckle that teetered into more of a cough as he weakly wiggled in Klarions lap. “They tried to grab Lunch Lady and Boxed Lunch, what was I supposed to do? It's my job as king to keep them safe-”

“NOT AT YOUR OWN EXPENSE YOU MORON!”

 The outburst silenced the ghost with a small snap of his jaw, followed by a cut off groan at the soreness from its disuse. A light cough broke the tense silence, and Danny sat up slightly to see what made it, eyes immediately sharp with alertness for any possible danger. His eyes landed on Martian Manhunter and that sharpness melted away to confusion.

 “Is that- why- Am I dreaming?” He stuttered, looking between the Justice leaguer and his lover. “Did I pass out so hard I’m actually dreaming my boyfriend came to save me with Martian Manhunter right now? Someone pinch me.” Klarion obliged the request and Danny yelped in pain. “Yep, okay, not a dream. Cool,” He whimpered, eyes now glued to the martian.

 Klarion went back to the task of freeing the ghost from his restraints, but hesitated before taking the collar off. “Do you have enough power to stay in this form if I take this off you?” He asked cautiously.

 Danny looked down, trying to see the band of metal around his neck, but quickly gave up with a sigh. “Probably not, it's taking most of my energy just to stay awake and talk right now.” He looked ashamed to say it, but Klarion was relieved to get a straight answer about his condition for once.

 “I’ll leave it on until we get you somewhere safe then,” Klarion whispered before readjusting his hands and standing up with the ghost boy bridal-style. The energy must have been draining from his cherished, as he only jolted at the movement. He could see Danny's eyes getting heavy, his head pitching forward before righting itself a few more times.

 “You’ll be there when I wake up… Right?” The Ghost boy asked, voice slurring with the effort to remain conscious. Klarion nodded once as he kissed the ghost's forehead -warmer than it should be- and walked back out of the cell. “Of course, my spirit. Rest.”

 One more wobbly nod and the ghost’s eyes closed. Klarion straightened, reigniting his magic with the help of Teekl and pushing it to blow the rest of the cell doors off their hinges. A few other ghosts floated out, and Manhunter helped a few more into the hall. They left slowly, with magical fire crackling in the prison that once held his spirit, catching the ectoplasm alight as the Witch Boy’s face contorted.

 ∆•∆•∆•∆

 The trip back to the Javelin was shorter than the trip into the facility, without the need to be covert they were able to retrace their steps through the building at a much faster pace. Batman regrouped with them just before the exit, and out in the grounds Green Lantern and Wonder Woman had done a great job of distracting and subduing most of the agents. One of them must have gone in and rounded up the scientists too, because they were tied up in a neat little pile a ways off.

 Good, he could burn this place to the ground without worry then.

 Klarion didn’t stop his stride out the compound as his magic spread to lick the walls, fire sparking to life where it touched. He didn’t stop to watch as the fire spread up the walls unnaturally fast, as it spread into the building through the holes it was melting in the reinforced glass. He didn’t pause when an explosion hit the air, the fire most likely finding the medical wing or the weapons vault.

 Klarion only stopped once Danny was securely in the small medbay of the Javelin, held securely in place for takeoff.

~~~~~

   Danny came to slowly, letting the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone fill his lungs as he breathed deeply… Wait. Ectoplasm? Ghost Zone?? Lungs???

 Screw waking up slowly, Danny bolted up from wherever he was sleeping… and immediately regretted it. A massive headache assaulted his senses, along with about a dozen other aches and pains from his capture, most notably his jaw and starving stomach. Still, assessing the situation came before anything else, so he tried to make himself vertical despite his body's protests. Until a hand on his chest stopped him.

 Klarion met his bleary eyed confusion with a stern stare. He pushed down once more and this time Danny didn’t protest the movement. “It wasn’t a dream?” Danny croaked out, only a little bit surprised at how dry his voice sounded.

 “No it wasn’t a dream,” Klarion replied softly as he pressed a straw to Danny's lips. He was grateful for the first full drink of water he’d gotten in… he doesn't remember how long.

 “And Martian Manhinter? Was he real too then?” Danny asked when his throat no longer felt like sandpaper. Klarion hummed an affirmative as he put the cup back on the nightstand, idly stroking Teelke with his offhand. He takes a second to process that before he nearly bolts up again, startling the familiar and mage alike.

 “Is the Justice League here‽‽”

 A pregnant pause followed the exclamation before the Witch Boy gave a snort, snickering to avoid outright laughing at the bedridden ghost. “No, I left the little humans to fly back to their clubhouse while I took you back to the Realms with a portal.”

 Deflating with the explanation, Danny’s eyes travelled the embroidered constellations on the canopy of his bed, finally relaxing enough to appreciate where he was. Home. He took another deep breath, feeling his ectoplasm replenish itself more than it had in the last month in the GIW facility. The ectoplasm combined with the pine and fire smell of the mage sitting beside him only enforced the fact that he wasn’t there anymore. Tears threatened to fall with that thought.

 His boyfriend came for him. He didn’t doubt he would, but the days passed along and he was starting to lose hope. But not only did Rion come for him, he brought the Justice League, a group he knows Rion has beef with. Traitorously, a tear managed to escape and roll down into his hair.

 “You know, I’ll have to go talk to the League now that you’ve told them about me,” Danny commented, desperate to get out of those thoughts and ignoring the way his voice wobbled.

 “I’m sure you will,” Rion replied, no doubt with a roll of his eyes. “But you need to heal first. You’re in no shape to go talk to a bunch of stupid humans right now.”

 Danny gave a snort, “Those ‘stupid humans’ helped you get me back, right? Maybe drop the stupid when we see them next.”

 Rion only grunted in reply, and so they lapsed into silence again. Danny felt sleep pulling at his mind again, now that he knew he was truly safe with his beloved mage beside him. He didn't fight it for long, but he needed to say one more thing before he truly allowed himself to start healing.

 “Rion,” he mumbled out, getting the attention of the mage with a hum. “Thanks for coming to get me, love you.”

 A rare kind of smile passed the pale teen’s lips then, soft and kind. “I love you too, Danny.”

[phandomnews]

Here is the link to the folder of all the new screen reader friendly Newsletter issues: Link

@hannahmanderr is our writer spotlight this month! @thickerthanectoplasm is leading the re:animated project @green-with-envy-phandom-event is the page to look for to get information about the Green with Ency event @invisobang keep an eye on this page for when sign ups open! @valentines-core-exchange is the main page for the Valentine's Day exchange. @dpxdcshipweek is where you can find the prompts for the DPxDC Ship Week event!

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Soul for a Soul

by BucketORandomness

Danny is the crowned Prince of Ghosts. Damian is the Demon Prince. With the ghosts gearing up for war, this is turning into a problem. A Dead Serious problem.

DPxDC Ship Week 2023 prompt: Firsts/lasts - Arranged marriage AU - Monday 13

Words: 2218, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Danny Fenton

Relationships: Damian Wayne & Danny Fenton, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: dpxdc, DPxDCShipWeek, DPxDCShipWeek2023, mentioned Technus, my guy's good for an infodump, Arranged Marriage, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Mentioned Ra's al Ghul, Mentioned John Constantine

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/45001744