Has This One Been Done Yet

Danny, the 'twig' Bouncer

The job was just a temporary solution. It was a means to an end. To help him handle his obsession until things were better. Until it was safe to be out again. Until he could roam around freely without fear. Until he no longer needed to lay low or be on the run. Until he could return to being Phantom.

This job helped keep his obsession somewhat sedated. Sure, it was a shady bar, but it beat working out in the open in some other way or becoming a non-ghost vigilante and risking his human persona too.

Besides people tented to underestimate him because he was a 'twig' in their eyes. The bar owner nearly didn't hire him until he easily flipped a human truck over his shoulder and threw the guy out the back door on his interview day.

But again this was just meant to be temporary. He got to fight the trouble makers and protect customers from the rowdy crowd.

At some point, the people even started cheering whenever Danny was on the clock, his coworkers even leaving the heavy hitters to him. It was kind of fun always seeing the sound looks of the big guys that didn't think Danny could throw them out the door with one hand. The owner had said something about getting more customers ever since Danny started working for him.

Danny even recognized regulars now. Tho there was this one guy with a red helmet that gave him a weird feeling. But the guy wasn't making trouble so Danny left him alone.

Besides the Bar Owner always pet his shoulder after he threw someone out. That meant he did a good job right?

Though Danny did wonder how long this temporary job would last.

.

.

.

Yea his Fenton luck struck again. Danny didn't know faces. The bar was a shady place but neutral zone according to the owner but there was the golden rule of not messing with Joker. Danny had agreed even tho he didn't know who that guy was.

Soo the day came a clown made trouble in the bar and no one else appeared to want to do something. So what did Danny do? His job. He punched the guy, knocked him out and threw him right out the door a little too hard into a brick wall. He might have broken a couple of that clown guys bones. Hello trauma, Freakshow greets you.

The bar was dead silent right after, everyone staring at him like he had just signed a death sentence. The owner had then pushed him out the door and muttered something about sending Danny on vacation and to return in a month if he was still alive by then.

Did that mean he was fired or got a weird kind of promotion?

Why was that guy in a furry suit staring him down now?

Also why was the red helmet regular suddenly trying to hire him for his gang?

Really Danny just wanted a simple job that sedated his obsession, this was not what he expected to happen for a job well done.

siblings: can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em

Air lock

Danny and Ellie take a small, reincarnation, vacation from their duties in the Infinite Realms (King Danny and his most trusted Knight/Princess Ellie). Don't worry, they leave the Realms in good hands (Jazz, Pandora, Frostbite, CW, etc, basicly Danny's main council takes over for a few years)

They both weren't expecting to wake up in an assassin cult though.... Nor to find out they're five year old twins now... Twin, somewhat clones of the leader and this guy Red Robin their 'father' is kinda obsessed with....

Great their 'father' is an insane assassin leader fruitloop and their 'dad' is named after a fast food joint... whose barely out of his teens btw.

Danny al Ghul Danyal, cast a glance as his full blooded and twin sister this time around Helen Ellie al Ghul who rolled her eyes as they listened to their 'father' ramble on and on about their 'dad' and how they were created to be his heir (Danny mostly, though he had plans on Ellie going to be trained to be his body guard by someone named Lady Shiva soon)

Yeah, no. Ellie dealt with one evil fruitloop father who cloned her once before, she's not dealing that again or falling for the 'I created thus I love you but not really' bs. They need to leave, like yesterday.

Hopefully their 'dad' is... okay he doesn't need to be okay with it at first but hopefully comes around to it, okay with the two of them showing up on his doorstep soon.

And you know what, they're gonna bring him a gift.

His spleen. Yeah it'll be good to give that back to him.

Since you know that was how they got clones to begin with... Maybe don't leave your DNA with people that can make clones next time.

Jason: People who sleep with their phone on silent or DND really don't give a damn about anybody.

Damian: If you decide to have a problem after midnight, that's between you and God.

Tim, very tired: …How do you set your phone to Dungeons and Dragons?

Y'know lil bby mans aus? What if, hear me out-

Danny lands at the feet of his cloning template, and in a desperate bid to not get murdered by said template, he gave a wry smile before saying, "HI, dad." He then used the moment of stunned silence to escape.

A week later, he regrets his decision as he walks down the stairs to find his template in his living room, interrogating his tied up parents.

Danny, full grown and with a grown-up job, moved to Gotham because of the low cost of living.

After all, statistically speaking he was far more likely to survive a rogue attack than the average person.

Then he'd just...never left.

He'd happily lived in Gotham for twenty years, and after a 42nd birthday celebration with Sam and Tucker, took to the streets to go home.

He was not expecting to find The Batman leaning against a wall in an alley, hands flexing as he very obviously fought off pain.

"Uh...are you okay?"

A grunt.

"...Is it an immediate medical emergency?"

A slightly lower grunt.

"I...I have ice powers, if that could help?"

It turned out that yes, that was what Batman needed.

So there Danny was, with both hands encased in ice and resting on Batman's back.

Trying very hard not to notice the muscles under all that armor.

Bruce, meanwhile, was just relieved to find someone to alleviate his pain flare-up.

Whispers

Legend & Wild fluff

1,579 words

Inspired by Hylia only knows what.

"Legend?" 

The veteran’s head turs to look at him, lifting from the very heavy looking tome he was reading, all curled up on the couch, feet tucked under himself and honestly looking so comfortable it almost seems a sin to disturb him. Nothing is said, but the question of what he wants is evident in the veteran’s eyes. 

“Can I hold you?” 

Legend blinks, once, twice, a third time. “Excuse me?” 

Wild shifts, limbs all too heavy and too light at the same time and nerves screaming in ways he can’t actually put words to. “Can I- I ne- want, I want to hold someone. I’m supposed to be holding someone? I don’t know what’s going on but-” 

The vet rolls his eyes. “In other words, you want cuddles.” Despite the snort in the words, he’s marking his place in his book and shifting upwards. 

That’s not exactly what Wild meant. “No, not really? I don’t-” he’s not sure if he should continue speaking or stop when the vet pauses, staring at him. “It’s not that I want cuddles, I’m not Sky. I just...” It feels like he ought to be holding onto someone. It’s strange, weird, unexplainable, but the warm house, the fire crackling softly away, the sounds of Malon and Time murmuring in the kitchen, the fading light and the soft sound of turning pages.... 

It’s like he’s drifting on the edges of a memory, like a vision just behind his eyes or around a shut off wall inside of his head. There’s something saying that he is meant to be here, that maybe this is home, maybe this is where a small part of him- one he’s never really sensed before- feels that things are familiar. Things are right. 

The fire crackling, the muffled laughter and dancing shadows in the kitchen. The rumble of Time’s indistinct voice, Malon’s sweet song like one rising beside it. The way the firelight dances over Legend’s features, softening harsher lines and washing warmth over fine features instead. Maybe it’s the dreamy expression that was on his brother’s face a moment before, or perhaps the crisp sound of pages hissing over each other, well-worn and faded. Maybe it’s the hints of scrawled out writing he’s peeked on the margins, or maybe the huddled posture of his companion. Maybe it’s the way there’s quiet outside, only the faintest sound of the wind just outside the windows. 

Maybe it’s the feeling of peace that’s settled over the house in the absence of the others. 

Over dinner, Twilight had suggested taking the rest out to sleep out in the barn for the night, up in the hayloft where they could watch the stars and enjoy the fresh air and have more space between them then laying out across the floor in one of the rooms in the house. Most of the others had been up for it, Sky the first to agree and Hyrule and Wind quick to follow, for differing reasons but with equal excitement. Hryule doesn’t like being indoors, and Wind enjoys the adventure of sleeping out in a barn, a rare experience for him that most of them are well familiar with. Warriors was the only one they’d had doubts about, but Twilight’s ribbing and teasing and a bet on whether the captain could make it through the night in a barn, laying on the straw amid the animals, had quickly changed that. Four had gone along, claiming he had to see it for himself, but that had left himself and Legend. 

Legend wanted to read his book and curl up on the couch where his joints were at ease. 

Wild wanted to enjoy the quiet. 

He loves his brothers, he does, but having so many people around feels wrong for some reason. Yet now, sitting alone in the quiet, it feels wrong to not have someone with him as well, even if Legend’s right there in front of him, pouring over the hefty tome that eeks of heavy, powerful magic. 

There’s something missing, something wrong, some sensation or want that could complete this picture but which he can’t name. There’s someone missing, and while he knows it’s not actually Legend, it’s someone like Legend, he’s sure of it. 

“You can say no.” 

The vet sighs, stretching. “It’s fine,” His guarded eyes say otherwise. 

“It’s dumb.” 

Violet snap at him, darkness in their depths for a moment. “No, it’s not.” 

He stares. 

Pink hair falls over the dark eyes that hold his own, but Legend doesn’t blink or push it away. “Look, Wild, far be it from me to say what normal is, but believe it or not, sometimes people want contact.” 

“Even you?” He challenges, disbelieving because Legend doesn’t tend to seek out contact from most of them. 

The flush on freckled cheeks is a betrayal, even if the words of the other hero are something else entirely. “Ravio and I had to talk about this. He needs contact sometimes, it’s okay to ask, just make sure you respect boundaries and stuff.” Legend shrugs, ears flicking back, flushed crimson at the tips, “just make sure to ask.” 

“So, if I want, I just have to ask?” 

“And if I say no, you listen, but yeah.” 

He blinks. “So, can I hold you?” 

It sounds weird, but Legend just grumbles and huffs at him in answer, never complaining directly even as he pulls himself out of the corner of the couch, gathering book and afghan to move over to Wild’s side. He stops once he’s standing in front of the champion though, frowning, feet shifting in the briefest betrayal of nerves. “So... what am I doing?” 

He frowns his answer, not quite sure. “Sit? I... I’m not sure. Just, be close?” It’s weird asking, but at the same time, the concept feels familiar for some reason, despite he and Flora having never done this. No one has done this before, as far as he recalls, although Tulin does tend to huddle up in his space in a way that’s almost what he’s wanting. It’s not the same though. 

The vet’s face twists, but he climbs up beside him, squirming and shaking out limbs as he tries to settle in, book and blanket both aiding and worsening his efforts. 

Like an old habit, or muscle memory, like picking up a sword the first time out of the shrine, he pulls the blanket away, letting Legend settle before sweeping the crocheted fabric around the shoulder that’s not nearly pressed against his own. 

Legend is just the slightest bit shorter than him, but curled up tight as he is, it’s a bit more than normal, especially with Wild sitting up straight beside him. Somehow that’s correct, by whatever strange criteria the foreign part of his memory has set. The dark eyes blinking up at him is also correct, somehow, the faint furrow between brows and the slightest scrunching of the nose in a question the vet doesn’t ask but which he reads all the same. 

“You can keep reading if you want.” 

Heavy lashes lower for a moment, raising as he’s fixed under another stare, and then shoulders are settling against the couch back with a huff and the vet’s book falls open again. 

The book is correct too. He's not sure how that could be, considering despite the fact that he can understand the lettering it still seems totally foreign to him. The words make sense separately, but the way they combine, the meaning is somehow lost, even though Legend follows them slowly, finger following the lines at times and faint murmurs hissing soft on his breath as he goes, long ears twitching back towards Wild every moment or so. 

He’s not sure why he settles his head atop of his brother's own, arms slipping down to wrap around the vet’s middle, but it feels right, and though the other starts a bit, he doesn’t cast him off, just sighs and goes back to reading. 

The magic in the book is heavy, wild, strange and foreign in a way that the flickering shadows cast by the fire are not. The book is weighty, not just in the gnarled hands that hold it, but in the air around it and the very existence of the earth. Time and Malon sound distant, and the only noise is the wind outside, the cracking of the flames and the faint puffs of breath he can feel escaping with every swell and fall beneath his hands. 

“Is it a magic book, Aryll?” He hears his own voice whisper, confused. 

Her smile is full of starlight, wild and sparking with delight as she lifts her head, meeting his eyes from where she’s curled beside him. “Yes!” 

“It doesn’t seem to make much sense,” he grouches to her, settling his chin amidst her hair and basking in the sunshine of her laughter.  

“Maybe you’re just dumb, I can understand it just fine!” 

“Really?” It’s disbelieving, his voice, but he knows there’s pride swelling in his chest as he says it. 

“Yes.” 

“Read it to me?” 

Legend’s dark eyes aren’t the glittering blue of the girl whose voice echos in Wild’s head, but they hold stars, bright and sparking, not as bright, not as warm, but just as charged, heavy with the same weight as the book in his hands. There’s confusion in them for a moment, before the vet settles, saying nothing of the chin in his hair or the way Wild pulls him closer.  

“If you insist.”