#Injured oc

[sappygentlemen]

PART FIVE. to my beloved, basement dweller

you know the drill.

TW: DARK, GORE DESCRIPTIONS, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS/ATTACHMENTS/BEHAVIORS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ☝️‼️

beep. beep. beep. beep.

".... do you think Sam will wake up today?.."

".......I dont know Quincy... im doing everything I can, but between, all their current injuries, their lack of a leg, the mass amount of VERY old injuries it seems, that never healed right..... i... i dont know Quincy."

".....its been 3 weeks........"

Quincy wanted to ask if Sam would EVER wake up... but he knew he couldnt handle the potential answer to that question. He chose to hold his tongue. even though Nate knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

sigh "i know Quincy. Im sorry.....Your welcome to stay, but i suggest you go hom-"

"Id like to stay.. please.... please nate.."

Quincys voice was wavering, cracked at the end. His previous sobbing evident in his hoarse throat and sniffles. The eye bags proved the lack of sleep hed been getting these past few weeks, but Nate didnt need them to know.. Nate had been Sams doctor since Quincy bravely rushed Sam to his mentor.. their next door neighbor.. Dr. Nate.

As Quincy stood, wobbly, but standing, Nate could do nothing but look at his usually lively and strong assistant, with sympathy, and concern. Hed promised not to look into the situation that caused Sams state, under a promise he made Quincy, that possibly went against everything Nate stood for, but a promise Nate intended to keep ,for Quincys sake nonetheless.

"very well. please have a shower though.. i know this is hard but, im sure your friend wouldn't want to see you suffer like this."

Silence fills the room. Quincy walks to the white, clean, neat hospital bed. Sams hospital bed. The same bed, hed been laying, un-moving, for 3 weeks. Sams condition was stable, and he was healing well, but he had remained in the coma, causing Nate to be concerned... concerned that maybe he would never wake up..

Though, he was interrupted and his attention was stolen, as he got an urgent code, not being able to say a proper goodbye to his former assistant, before he was rushing and running down the halls of the hospital. Quincy was understanding, he knew no matter how much Dr.Nate cared, he still had a job to do.

He calmly pulled a small book of poems out of his bag, as he pulled a chair up next to Sams bed, making sure to avoid all the wires. He had read this book to Sam everyday, since the second day of Sams hospital stay, when Quincy made a trip home, to pack a bag of stuff.

"this was always your favorite book.. you used to read it to me, remember?... i hope you can hear me reading it...im trying my best to do get all the voices right.."

The silence in the room is interrupted, by a cracked, hoarse, sob escaping Quincy's throat, as he chuckled lightly, whipping away his tears with his jacket sleeve.....more specifically.. Sams jacket sleeve...

"everyone knows you were always the best at that...i hope im doing just as good for you."

Quincy sighed, putting the book down. he hated crying while he read the book of poems, afraid to get his tears on the precious pages. Quincy held onto Sams larger hand, before laying his head on s\Sams lap. letting the tears flow silently as his mind recounted these last three weeks.

He had visited his house, and his Brother, once every week. to grab supplies. The first time he went home. he was bombarded by his older brother, though, he couldnt bear to look Declan in the eyes. He fought Declan, proving he could hold his ground, and that he was no longer the little baby brother Declan once knew. Instead, he had grown into a man. A man who promised himself to be better then Declan or his Father could ever hope to be. He loved Sam like a father, and losing Sam gave him all the strength he could never muster, to finally stand up to Declan. When he left Declan, he had made sure to leave his mark on that house, and Declan himself, without even being physically violent. he had destroyed every gift hed ever received from Declan, including, the most valuable, and meaningful... his beloved piano.

Declan was of course, devastated by Quincys absence, and "betrayal", but Quincy could care less. Quincys last piece of pity to his older brother, came in a promise, a promise to never spill Declan and Sams, dark secret. But, the promise came at a cost. Declan could never speak to him or Sam again.

As Quincy laid his head on Sams soft lap, covered in a soft fleece blanket, that Sam had loved dearly. Quincy finally looked up, and out the window. it was dark outside.... he hadnt realized hed been here this long... maybe he would take a shower in the morning.... just a quick one. but for now. he need to sleep. Crying for so long made his body weak and his head heavy. Quickly setting up a little space beside Sam, on the bed, as he did every night, and began squishing his small body, into Sams side, not moving Sam, too afraid to worsen his condition or mess up a wire. Eventually, as Quincy calmed down, next to Sam, he began to slowly drift off.

Not noticing the figure behind the hospital curtain.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, met with an entirely sore body, a weight on my side, and a horrible migraine. There is an extremely annoying in my ear. god damn beeping.

I slowly blinked and looked around to my left, seeing Quincy laying in my side, peacefully curled up, head on my chest. so thats where i was. a hospital. such a smart boy, i leaned my head down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, slowly and painfully moving the hand underneath him, out from under him, and then draping it over his body, instantly relaxing his tense form, as, even in his unconscious state, he began to uncurl and wrap around my side, head snuggled deeper into my chest.

even as a growing young man... hes still my little boy..

After a few seconds of staring at Quincys obviously disheveled and weak body, i turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings. but before I could. I was met with a sight i never expected.

Declan.

Declan was standing about 6 feet away from my bed, no emotion, just a blank stare as we made eye contact. I was un-phased. I did not care if he wanted forgiveness. i did not care if he was was "right" or if i "deserved" this punishment. i was no longer his. he was no longer my soulmate, and im starting to think he never was.....

Declan and me made eye contact as his gaze turned from blank, to one of remorse, opening his mouth. but before he could, i shook my head. turning away from his form. I could hear his hesitant and heavy footsteps as he walked towards me.

"youre still mine. youll get better, and then we can be better again... all of us... we can be a family.."

a deafening silence filled the room

.............

i cleared my dry, hoarse throat as i attempted to whisper. Quietly pressing the "doctor" button, on my hospital bed remote.

"no. I am not yours anymore. I may have been, once upon a time... but that twisted fairytale, has long since ended. Goodbye."

Declan must have heard the hurried footsteps too, as he quickly left the room, but not without one more scowl my way.

very Soon, a very.....handsome? man hurridely stepped into the room, body obviously tense and in a panic as spoke quickly, without looking up....oh.. so this was my angel.. how cute

"QUINCY!! you called?? what hapened??? Are they coding?!?!........oh. um, hello?"

The short, nervous doctor, let out a small chuckle as he came closer to me, at a slower, calmer pace now.

"its good to see you awake.. mr. sam... im sure Quincy will be elated by the news"

"hello... yes, im sure he will be too... thank you.. for saving me that day.....but um.. speaking of days.... what day IS it"

"Its the 30th. youve been in a coma for 3 weeks. its good to have you back."

To my concerned displeasure, Quincy woke up, likely at all the noise. quickly stiffening, when he saw my wide, tired eyes. He quickly sat up before launching himself into my arms, with wide eyed, smiling sobs.

"SAM!!! YOURE AWAKE!! OH GOSH I WAS SO SCARED!!!!"

his voice trailed off, as he laid his lower body, between my legs, and his upper body, on my chest and stomach, arms wrapped around my waist. I slowly stroked his hair, hoping to offer some comfort

"....i thought you might never wake up......i was so scared"

The handsome doctor, pulled up a chair next to me, smiling and began explaining things to me, such as the next steps treatment wise. I would receive a prosthetic leg, and daily walks/physical therapy. but i needed to stay under their care, to monitor all my other injuries.

MONTHS LATER

I had been officially released from the hospital two weeks ago, though i received daily physical therapy sessions. my new prosthetic leg was helping a ton, Quincy had gone back to working as an assistant for Dr- i mean.. Nate,, just Nate :)

Nate had moved, recently, to a bigger space. Allowing me and Quincy to move in with him. He was a kind, gentle man, and he was incredibly sweet to me.... even when i had my strongest PTSD episodes... he and Quincy were always there.

I had been diagnosed with BPD and PTSD, during my time at the hospital, with the help of my amazing therapist and psychologist. Life had been hard to manage with those two together.. the meds.. the physical therapy.. the healing process... it was all incredibly hard.

But it wasnt all bad!! I had gotten closer to Dr.Na- i mean. just.. Nate :)

And i had begun working at a nearby bakery, to help pay the bills and my medical expenses. Quincy deserved a childhood, and i was prepared to give him one, always trying to take him places with my extra money, or give him cute little gifts. he was a sweet kid, he deserved the world. Nate and I had gotten close, and i had developed a mini crush on him, though i wont act on it yet.. my therapist says i need to differentiate fiction from reality, so i dont potentially hurt Nate. so, im gonna do my best.

however.... Declan also hasn't left me alone.... ive been getting weekly letters.. dark letters... letters with pictures of me in different places. it was all concerning.. though id decided to ignore it.. surely he wouldnt try anything again?

......right?

[hanahaki-ghost]

Goretober day 19: bites

Character:damien(oc)

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[sporeclan]

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Another one joins the club!

[charmac]

I need RCG to start writing Dennis like this again.

[voidedjuice]

Ilta had her timeloop troubles even before meeting Cecily

[brokenpieces-72]

Echo

Note: I have been working on this oc for a while, and there's a lot I wanted to do with them. This story is oc reader insert, so I leave the name open but the hero name is already established.

CW: Foster system (abuse of it), injured reader, financial abuse, car crash, let me know if I missed anything.

You know that feeling when everything seems to be falling apart? You’ve had it before, when you lost your parents and separated from your sibling in the foster system. You feel it now too along with plenty of soreness from your injuries.

You lay in the hospital bed, with your cracked phone screen. Foster parents hadn’t seen any of your texts and no phone calls had been answered. You messaged your sibling but they wouldn’t be able to make it to you. Your friends were either stuck at work or asleep right now. The nurses and doctor suggested calling a lawyer for yourself, since the other driver is a lawyer and his family wants to press charges. Insurance company has you covered for any other surgery or treatment they need to do so no need to contact them.

Still, you stare at your phone screen staring at the small text message history you have. You could try. He might be busy, but you could try. While your boss wasn’t the softest or kindest person, he still cared. Many not a lot, but at least a little. Then again, maybe it would be a chance for him to stop mentoring you, and go solo again. The pros and cons fight over what to say in the text. Regardless you wouldn't be out of hospital for a while so he needed to know that.

E: Hey boss, sorry but I can’t come in to work for the next couple days.

You shut your phone off after sending it. Then you turn it back on again, debating whether to delete it, edit it, or leave it. Honestly with the drugs in your system, it’s a little hard to make proper decisions. You know he’ll ask, you know he’ll be hard on you for reckless driving, but he’s all you’ve got right now. Right now you just need another person with you, even if they’re somewhat of a stranger.

Your phone rings. Holy crap it can still do calls? Whatever not the point. You answer the call without paying attention to the screen, though you briefly see the name. This would not be pleasant.

“Hello?” You answered, before coughing. Maybe you could cover up your sore voice as a sick one.

“What's going on?” Your boss asked.

“Uhh… can I…” you pause a lot, the war still going on, and fighting over your vocal cords. To your boss's credit he’s patient right now. Finally, you get something out. “Are you on patrol?”

You rub your head, praying you don’t have a headache coming on. Your boss takes a moment to answer.

“Yes why?” He asked. He sounds irritated. You don’t want a lecture when he gets here.

“Nevermind. Forget it.” You say quickly.

“Outlaw, answer the question.” He said.

“… I…” you swallowed. “I’m in hospital. No one can make it, and… was wondering if you could come see me?”

There’s silence again and you shut your eyes. This was a bad idea. You hear a sigh over the phone, and regret sinks in.

“Forget it, I’ll be fi-“

“On my way, give me a few minutes. Do you need anything?” Your boss asked.

“Maybe a change of clothes.” You suggest. “That’s kind of it.”

He hangs up, and you sigh. He was gonna lecture you, but at least he was coming. Especially if they needed to do more surgery. God knows your fosters wouldn’t come anytime soon.

Jason Todd arrived at the hospital, jacket on, hood up, and a small backpack with a change of clothes for you. Trying to see you as your boss likely wouldn’t work very well, but seeing you as your brother could pass. He approaches the desk where a nurse is typing away. The nurse looked up, seeing him almost towering over her.

“Here to see Y/N L/N.” he asked.

“Down that hall, room 168.” The nurse instructed. Jason made his way down the hall, keeping an eye out for the room. He stopped himself just outside your door, ensuring the face mask he brought covered his face. His eyes were uncovered, but the hood shielded them enough. Then he overheard you on the phone.

“It was an accident, I swear I did-no it wasn’t for attention. I was just-“ you tried to get a word in as your foster parents demanded to know why they were getting medical bills. Jason steps in, quietly as you continued to plead innocent. “I just went out to meet a friend, I wasn't even drinking. Insurance money will cover it, I checked. I'm not asking you to cover it, I'm just telling y-...Okay. I'll transfer the mon-I'll take it out when I get the chance.”

You’re on the phone getting yelled at until they finally hang up. Your head is down, and you're holding back tears. When you looked up you nearly jumped out of bed, seeing the large figure that had come into your room. The red hoodie was a dead giveaway. Jason stepped in and set the bag down nearby.

“What happened?” He asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Car accident… don’t quite remember. I swear I was driving on the right side, and I tried to move out of the way, but…” you trailed off.

“At least you’re alive.” He pointed out.

“Yeah so I can get medical bills, foster parents barking at me, no car for the next who knows how long, and now I even have to get a lawyer because the family of the other driver says it was all my fault, and I won’t be able to go to work or go on patrol or even train.” You say, trying to keep the lump in your throat down. The last thing you wanted was to start sobbing.

Jason sits in a nearby chair. “You’ll need more than a couple days.”

“The couple days is just for me to get out of hospital, the rest I can do easily enough.” You say, shrugging. As if shrugging really got rid of the weight of everything. Red Hood needed Echo, they were close to a breakthrough in a fighting and drug ring.

“You need rest.” Jason told you.

“For a couple days, then I’ll be back on my feet. The next load is coming Thursday, I'll be fine by then.” You said firmly, but there was a crack in your voice from emotion. Sidelining is the last thing you want. You’ve worked too hard for him to take you out of the game. Jason is quiet in the chair. It looks like he staring at the floor or the bed but you know he’s looking at you under his hood. You refuse to break.

Jason knows you are though. You’re tired, you’re injured, you have morphine in your blood stream, and financially you’re fucked. When he sighs, you think it’s pointed towards you and your stubbornness. It’s not. He realizes that you’ve been carrying a lot more than he thought. Now he has to call for a favour, one he didn’t want to ask for.

“Kid, right now, you are unfit to fight-don’t interrupt.” He said, holding his hand up, before you could argue. “You’re injured, you’re stressed, and you’ll be distracted. The last thing I want is your death on my conscious because I let you get yourself killed.”

“I don’t need to be sidelined.” You said, your voice breaking.

“You’re being benched for your own good. When you’re ready to get back into the game, I’ll pull you in. Don’t rush it but don’t waste time.” Red Hood ordered. You nodded. It’s a bit of a relief, since you haven’t had much time for regular life, let alone time for yourself.

“How long do I have?” You asked. Of course you wanted to be on a time limit. Jason did it to you for a lot of your training, whether it was posting up or reaching a checkpoint.

“Knowing shit like this, it will take maybe a week or so until you’re out of here.” Jason thought out loud.

“Then I have to get a lawyer which is a week or so, I have enough money… I should. I can do that while I’m recovering, and then I have work, and my side job. Chores, extra because I’ll be away. Then getting my vehicle repaired which will take a while…” your voice broke again thinking about the work you had after you leave the hospital.

“Hey.” Jason said. You looked up at him and it’s the first time you’ve seen his eyes. They were more natural than you thought. For some reason you thought they’d be red or maybe yellow. “This isn’t a fight, focus on what’s in front of you. I’ll give you a month.”

“I won’t need a month.” You said, take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You’re getting one. Consider it mandatory vacation or something.” Jason said.

You want to thank him, and hug him but you’re a little incapable. The relief is massive wave, almost drowning you. You look down at your broken phone, feeling it vibrate.

“Thank you.” You said, the tears finally breaking free from your eyes. You sniffle and wipe at them. “Sorry.”

“Just fucking cry kid. Your life is falling apart it’s a normal response.” Jason said.

You let out a small noise that he thinks is you laughing. You nod, wiping your eyes, and a small smile on your face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know any lawyers would you?” You asked. Your phone vibrated and you checked it, seeing your friend had replied, saying he was close by.

“Recover for the first while, then worry about a lawyer.” Red Hood said. Jason notices you smile at your phone, and takes it as his cue to leave. “Rest. I’ll be in touch.”

Jason gets up, leaving the backpack. Once he steps into the hallway he sighs. He doesn’t want to make this call, he really doesn’t. But you’re his partner, his apprentice. Hell, you’re basically his Robin. Jason had a rough life. You might have what he didn’t, but that didn’t make your life perfect. He’d been pulled out of that struggle and sure it wasn’t perfect, but it was at the very least decent.

Once he’s out of the hospital, he dials on his phone. He didn’t want to but with the bs justice system Gotham has, you would need some help.

“Alfred?” Jason said, hearing a familiar older voice on the other end. “Is Bruce there? I need to talk to him.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

[bakedbeanz]

peepaw with the fake leg livin his best life

[ciderjacks]

can’t read any Chilwife fic or read any fanon chilwife stuff at all because I have a very specific interpretation of their marriage & her as a character that no one else understands bc no one else is me… I suffer from success every day

[cosmicharm]

[ne0nwithazero]

Mittens is one of the Cable's original channel leaders, looking over the Cooking channels and food departments. Although her channel went unscathed, the effects of the Divide still impacted her friends and colleagues, and Mittens tries her best to keep the harmony among such shaky bonds.

Finding her friendship and warmth to be best shown with a nice meal and a warm hug, Mittens has yet to satiate her own hunger. A hunger for the Lightners' return.

Once Mike and Host return from their Hiatus, Mittens is absolutely ready to give the Lightners a taste of what her channel has to offer.

[happydragon]

To Coming Home

Summary: Tech should not have survived that fall. But he did. Now he needs to get back home. My take on a Tech lives au.

Ao3

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 6,500

Disclaimer:  I in no way shape or form, have any sort of mobility disability or use a cane to walk. I in no way shape or form meant to offend anyone who does and hope I gave a semi-accurate depiction of what it can be like

Edit: I forgot to put in the word "island" before so now it's 6,500 instead of 6,499 lol

The first thing Tech remembered when he woke up was falling. He could still hear the groaning of metal and air rushing past his ears as he fell to what he thought would be his death. Seeing as he was not only resting on a soft but firm surface but could still feel pain throughout his entire body, that did not appear to be the case. 

Next thing he remembered was seeing Wrecker reach out in an attempt to grab Tech. Tech was confident that this was not the case either as he was sure Hunter would have said something as soon as Tech was awake. 

This led him to the conclusion that he did indeed fall due to enacting Plan 99 but has somehow survived. Not unscathed obviously. The pain was a very helpful reminder of that. The question of course remained of how he survived. A good place to start would be to figure out where he was exactly. 

After struggling for a moment to open his eyes, he finally succeeded and was welcomed by an unfamiliar brown ceiling. Now that he was properly awake, Tech could now tell he was in a bed of some sort. He turned his head to the side, much to the protest of his unused muscles, and found a nightstand with a single cup. To his other side was a wall and along the wall was a single durasteel door with no lock. 

He had just begun to push himself up so he could investigate the contents of the cup when the door opened to reveal a large surly human man, his face covered by a thick dark beard and head covered by a hat or head covering of some sort. He wore a clean and simple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing hairy and tanned arms. His pants were also simple but appeared to be covered with flecks of mud. 

“Ah,” the man simply stated, “So you finally decided to wake up.”

“So it seems,” Tech coughed, his voice hoarse from inactivity.

The man said nothing as he strode forward, picked up the glass, and with a gentleness that took Tech slightly by surprise, the man lifted the glass to Tech’s lips, supporting his head as he drank. Tech was glad to discover it was water and drank it greedily. Once he emptied the cup, the man placed the cup back on the nightstand, pulled a chair Tech had not seen before, and set it next to the bed. The man then proceeded to sit in the chair, leaned back, and gave a big sigh.

“Name’s Thom Dodonna,” he began, “I’m sure you have some questions just like I have some for you. I’ll do you a favor and tell you how you ended up here so we can get rid of any unnecessary questions. Afterward, you can ask me your questions, but then I’m going to ask mine. Understood?”

Tech nodded, finding this the most logical course of action. 

“Good,” Thom gruffed, “About several weeks back, I was checking some of my fish traps in one of the deeper lakes around here when a railcar hit the water and you came falling in after it. You must have known you were about to hit the water because you somehow managed to go in feet first, which helped lessen some of your injuries. Once I recovered from the shock, I dove in after you, seeing as you didn’t come back up right away. After I got you to shore, I took you to the nearby town where the doc had you in a bacta tank for about two weeks before someone else needed it more. Doc gave me permission to bring you to my place, away from nosy people, so you could continue to recover. You’ve been here for almost a week and a half and this is the first time you’ve actually been conscious.”

Tech took a moment to process the information. So he did survive the fall and was still on Eriadu, which meant one of two things. One was that his family believed that he was dead and would explain why he was not with them now. The other conclusion was that it was they who did not survive the mission and had been either captured or killed, thus making his sacrifice pointless. While he most definitely preferred one over the other, he currently had no way of knowing if either was true. He would need to add it to the ever-growing list of problems that he hoped could be solved quickly.

“Firstly,” Tech began, “I’d like to thank you for rescuing me and seeing to my recovery. I believe I am in your debt.”

Thom huffed but said nothing, so Tech continued, “Secondly, I would like to inquire as to the extent of my injuries.”

“Well, Doc said most of the life-threatening stuff had been taken care of by the bacta, but because you weren’t in there long enough, not everything was fixed.”

Thom reached behind him, toward the same place where he got the chair, pulled a cane, and leaned it against the nightstand. 

“Doc said you did some serious damage to your legs and may need some help walking right even with physical therapy. Doc also said you’d be experiencing some pain but didn’t say if it would stop or not.”

Well. That wasn’t nearly as bad as Tech initially thought. While neither was ideal, he’d much rather be in pain and never walk properly again than be dead. Perhaps he could modify his cane to his liking. It would certainly be helpful if it had more than one use. It would be a good project to work on for a later date. 

“Very well,” Tech finally said, “My next question would be if you have sort of long-range communications so that I may contact my family.”

“Unfortunately I don’t. There’s only one in town and it’s run by the Empire. Now I’d like to ask you some questions.”

While Tech was disappointed that he could not contact his family to know whether or not they were alive, in turn, let them know he was alive, he knew it was probably for the best. If the Empire intercepted his message, they might use it to capture Tech and possibly use him as bait for his family. Of course, he could encrypt it, but that meant they would come here to get him and Eriadu was still an Imperial-occupied planet. Tech already sacrificed himself to make sure they escaped. He would not be the reason they were captured. 

He suddenly realized that Thom was waiting for Tech’s permission to start asking questions. Tech internally shook his head, then nodded for Thom to continue. 

“Are you an Imperial or a bounty hunter?”

“No, I am not.”

“Good. Don’t tell me what you are though. The less I know the better. I assume you need to hide from certain people while you recover?”

“If possible, yes.”

“Alright then. I’ll go let Doc know you’re awake and get you started on healing.”

All Tech could do was nod as Thom stood up and walked out to find the doctor. As he lay there, he wondered how long it would take for him to recover. Ideally, he would hope not too long. He would like to return to his family as soon as possible. Realistically, it could take months, quite possibly a year at most. There was also the issue of getting back to his family. He’d rather have a ship, as it would be easier and safer to get a direct flight from here to Pabu. He would have to ask Thom if he had one Tech could use. Flying would not require much movement and he could recover with his family. Yes, that would be the best course of action. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to Tech’s dismay, Thom did not have a ship Tech could use and Doctor Theala Togs, a human woman with short black hair and a tall stature, did not give a favorable timeline as to his recovery. At first, he tried to push himself for a speedier recovery, against Doctor Togs’s wishes but soon stopped. Tech has had his fair share of medics but Doctor Togs was not a woman to be crossed. 

After four months of physical therapy, Tech attempted to walk again with the support of the cane. Unfortunately, just walking to the door made him feel like he ran five klicks. It took another two months before he could walk with some semblance of ease around Thom’s home and that was with the help of a cane. Doctor Togs had explained it was not likely that he would walk without the cane again. Tech was told this when he first woke up, but that still did not prepare him for the anger he felt when it was explained to him again. He refused to leave his room for the next day and a half, only to be dragged out to get some air by Thom on Doctor Togs’s orders. 

Tech continued to exercise after that, pushing himself as much as the doctor would allow. He began to feel his strength rebuild itself and though he knew it would never be what it once was, it was a reminder that he was one step closer to reuniting with his family. He refused to believe they were anything but alive and safe on Pabu with Phee, Shep, and Lyana. If he did, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to recover. 

In the meantime, Tech began to repair some small electronics in exchange for credits. It began with Thom’s kettle, which had stopped working, much to his frustrations. Once Tech acquired a pair of round spectacles, (his helmet and goggles were removed after he was brought to shore. Thom attempted to back and find them, but he said that someone had come and cleaned the crash site, leaving no trace there ever was a crash) he was able to repair it in less than a minute. Then Thom began to bring items from various townsfolk. Mostly small things, a short-range com unit here, a datapad there. In return, he was given a handful of credits for each task. 

One day, Doctor Togs wanted Tech to walk to the town and back, so Thom took Tech with him on his next trip to town. They strolled from shop to shop, Tech needing multiple breaks to rest his aching legs. He was incredibly grateful for Thom’s endless patience. He didn’t speak much, but he was a good man. 

On one such break, Tech noticed a rodian woman become increasingly frustrated with her servant droid. The droid was placed on a table and powered down while the woman seemed to be trying to find the problem with the droid. After a particularly nasty string of curses that could make a pirate blush, Tech stood up from where he was seated and approached the woman, offering his assistance. 

“Might as well,” she said as she stepped away from the droid, “The only repair shop around here charges way too much. You’d save me some credits if you can fix the damn thing.”

Tech simply nodded and examined the droid. He quickly found the problem and asked for the tool she was using, repairing the droid in under ten minutes. 

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed, “You sir just saved me an arm and a leg! How much do I owe you?”

Tech began to insist it was no trouble, but Thom interrupted, “He’ll take ten credits.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize he was with you, Thom.”

“He’s a family friend. Staying with me while he recovers from an accident that damaged his legs.”

“Sorry to hear that. Hope you recover quickly,” she said to Tech, then fished ten credits from her bag and handed them to him. “What’s your name so I can refer others to you? Maker knows we need someone that won’t cheat us for an easy job.”

As he took the credits, he thought for a moment before responding, “You may call me Titus Genoa.”

Shortly thereafter, Tech began to make daily trips into town to repair various household items or droids. He thrived in his comfort zone. He was relieved to have some semblance of normal in this new challenge. There were of course some days when the ache in his legs was too strong, and Thom would bring the items to Tech. 

Thankfully the Imperial presence was next to nothing which allowed Tech to operate a little more freely. Unfortunately, his presence seemed to anger others, namely the human man who ran the local repair shop. The man tried to bribe Tech to stop and when that didn’t work the man threatened Tech. Tech simply ignored the man and continued to work. This was a mistake. 

On the way back to Thom’s home one day, Tech was cornered by some thugs. Because his strength was not what it used to be, the thugs gave him a nasty beating and stole all the credits he earned that day. Luckily, one of his regulars found him and was able to get him quickly to Doctor Togs. The first and only time Tech had ever seen Thom upset was when he learned Tech kept the threats a secret. From then on Thom accompanied Tech on every trip to town. Tech also found the credits he lost lying on his bed once Doctor Togs released him. He said nothing but repaired all of Thom’s traps as a thanks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the anniversary of his rescue (and by extension the last time he saw his family and Phee) approached, Tech became increasingly, shall one say, erratic. He had all but completely recovered from his injury and could walk into town with very little need to rest. Due to this, he began to push himself and took on more projects than one could normally handle. Tech was not normal though. He was an experimental clone from Clone Force 99. His superior intellect allowed him to solve dozens of problems without resistance. So no matter what Thom thought or said, Tech was doing perfectly fine. 

He had been on his third day with little sleep, running on nothing but caf and stims, when Thom had enough and locked Tech in his room, away from any projects he was working on. Tech would be ashamed to admit later that he called his friend several colorful things in multiple languages.

Later that evening, after Tech gave up trying to escape and finally slept, Thom brought some dinner and sat down with Tech as he ate. For a while, neither of them said anything, and then Thom broke the silence. 

“Tell me about them,” he said, “About your loved ones. You don’t need to tell me any names. Just about them.”

So Tech did. He told Thom about his childhood spent with his brothers raising hell and how, when they were old enough, they fought together as a unit. Later another brother joined them and they were unbeatable. Then the Empire came and it all changed. While Tech gained a sister, he lost a brother. Then it was a series of adventure after adventure. He left out any part dealing directly with the Empire as he was worried that would reveal too much. 

When he began to talk about Pabu and Phee, Thom’s face changed into a mischievous teasing smile. 

“She your love?” Thom teased. Tech knew he was teasing but the comment still made him pause. Is that what Phee was to him? He knew she meant something, seeing as he took her name when he needed to give one. He couldn't imagine she would mind, but why did he do it? There were certainly other names he could have used, but he chose hers. Why? Because she meant something. She gave him and his family a place to call home. A place where Omega could have grown up free and happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted for his family. For them to be happy. Whether that was continuing to fight for the Republic or building a life away from everything. While on Pabu, Tech could imagine building such a life, one that he hoped could include a certain liberator of ancient wonders. He also did not leave things on the best of notes. Which meant all the more reason he needed to get back.

“I do not know yet,” Tech finally answered, “But if she’ll have me then yes.”

Thom nodded, happy with the answer. Then he took the tray and told Tech to get some sleep. Tech began to protest, but Thom was gone before he could even get the words out. Tech did not need to sleep. He needed to get back to his family. The same family that would just accept it when he would sometimes pull all-nighters. However, if he did too many in a row, Hunter would order Wrecker to grab a hold of Tech. He would then be forced into a sleep pile with the rest of their family. Tech in turn would do the same whenever Hunter had begun to overwork himself. 

So while he needed to get back to his family, they would want for him to take care of himself. As long as they were safe on Pabu, Tech could be patient for just a little longer but once he had all the credits he needed, he was going home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I do not suppose I’ll see you again,” Tech asked Thom as the former stood at the bottom of the ramp of his brand-new ship. After one year, three months, ten days, six hours, and 21 minutes, Tech finally had enough credits to buy a decent ship that could take him to Pabu. It wasn’t the Marauder, but it would suffice. He thankfully did not have much to pack; only some clothes and the wooden cane he was first given. When he found out Thom had carved it for Tech, he could not bring himself to modify it. He was grateful when it wasn’t broken by those thugs who attacked him that night. To be perfectly honest, Tech didn’t think even Wrecker could break it. It was a very solid cane. 

“Probably for the best,” Thom replied, “We’d probably get each other into too much trouble.”

“Yes, I suppose that is a possibility.” Tech smiled. “Thank you for everything, Thom. I do not know how I could ever repay you.”

“Your friendship is more than enough for me.” A pause. “Though I do have one request.”

“Name it.”

“Your name. Even if we never see each other again, it would bring me comfort to know your real name.”

On one hand, Tech was surprised. Never once had Thom asked for Tech’s real name. When he first told that rodian woman his false name, Thom had only asked if it was real. Tech confirmed that it was not, Thom simply nodded and went about whatever he was doing. On the other hand, Tech was relieved. He had not heard his name in quite some time, with the exception of Omega calling it out as he fell when he sometimes dreamt of that day. To hear it again from a friend would bring endless joy. A sign that Tech was finally going home. 

“That is most agreeable,” Tech answered, “It is Tech.”

“Tech,” Thom tested the name on his tongue, “Suits you, what with how good you are with tech.”

“Technically, according to my brothers, that was not the reason for which I was named Tech, but yes, it does suit me well.”

Thom barked a hearty laugh, no doubt figuring out the real reason Tech was named Tech. Even though he did not originally like the reason for his name, it now brought a smile to his face at the memory. 

“Well Tech,” Thom said after he composed himself, “I wish you a safe journey back to your family.”

Tech nodded in thanks, then he walked up the ramp and into the ship. As he sat in the pilot’s seat going through his pre-flight checklist, he spotted Thom through the window watching the ship. Just as Tech began to take off, he saluted Thom, to which he responded in kind, before the ship took off toward the sky. 

As he inputted the coordinates for Pabu, Tech tried to think of what he was going to say to his family. He knew they believed him to be dead, so how does one reveal they are not. Truly, there was no easy or simple way of breaking the news, so he would have to do what he and his brothers do best. Improvise. 

When he arrived in the planet’s atmosphere, Tech decided the trip was both too long and not quick enough. Doubt had begun to seep into his mind. What if they had moved on? What if they had replaced him? Would there be any room for him? What if his family truly wasn’t safe here but had been captured, even worse killed by the Empire?

A beeping from the ship pulled Tech from his spiraling thoughts. A ship was trying to hail him which concerned Tech. That’s never happened before. Last time something similar happened was when they first arrived back on Kamino, just after the order went out. A wave of panic ran through Tech. Had the Empire taken over? If they had, that meant his family wasn’t there. He had no clue where they could be if they weren’t on Pabu. He might truly never see them again. 

No. He mustn't think like that. Even if he didn’t know where they could be, he would find them. No matter how long it took or who stood in his way, he would find them. Of that he was sure. 

The other ship continued to hail him. Even if the Empire had taken over, there had to be someone who might know where his family was. For now, he would play along, so he could land and hopefully find some answers. So he accepted the call, preparing for the worst. 

“Unidentified ship,” a familiar voice began, “State your name and purpose.”

“Titus Genoa,” Tech responded, giving his fake name as a precaution, “I have come to see my family.”

“Hold while we confirm.”

Tech moved to hold his hand over the button to fire the guns. If this turned bad, he wanted to be ready for anything. If he needed to shoot his way out of here, he would. After what seemed like hours, the other ship finally told him he could land near the Archium. He didn't know whether or not it was a good sign they didn’t shoot him down. Perhaps they wanted to interrogate him first. Only one way to find out. 

He did not see the Marauder as he landed but tried not to fret too much about it. Perhaps they were just out for the moment. However, his mind could not decide between his family being alive and well or in danger and it was starting to annoy him. Hopefully, he will have answers soon. 

Seeing no point in delaying any longer, Tech grabbed his cane and walked over to the entrance of the ramp. He painstakingly waited for it to lower all the way, anxious to get off. When it landed with a thud, he knew it was now or never. Part of Tech was grateful that the sun had begun its descent into the sea so that he was not blinded by the harsh light as he began to walk down the ramp. When he looked out onto the courtyard, he found it mostly empty save for a handful of very important people.

Tech supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at the sight of his brothers and Phee aiming their blasters at him, seeing as he used Phee’s name knowing she did not have any family outside of Shep and Lyana. He too would be outright suspicious. 

“I would raise both my hands,” Tech said as he raised one hand in the air, “but I’m afraid I would not stand very long if I did.”

While their faces all displayed various forms of shock, Wrecker was the first to lower his blaster. 

“Is it really you?” Wrecker asked in what could be considered a whisper to him and his family and a normal voice to outsiders. 

Before Tech could answer, yes it really is me, another familiar voice called out, causing the five of them to turn and find Omega running straight for them. As she got closer, she slowed to a stop, confusion taking over her features as she looked at her brothers standing with Phee and then over to where Tech stood. Her confusion immediately shifted into shock and disbelief as she called out in a whimper, “Tech?”

Tech was barely holding in his own emotions at the sight of her. She had grown up more. Her hair was longer and her face shape reminded him of Crosshair’s. Gone was the baby fat that she once held, leaving behind a growing young lady. 

“Hello Omega,” Tech said, his voice cracking, “You have grown up.”

She yelled his name once more before barreling toward him. It took all of his strength to stand as he let his cane clatter to the ground and held his arms open for her. Of course, once she tackled him he fell back but he didn't care. His sister was in his arms and he didn't want to ever let her go. He felt his neck grow wet from where she buried her face. He was sure his own tears had made their way onto her as well. 

Suddenly they were being lifted up, as Wrecker had somehow snuck up on them and was now pulling them into his arms. He held them close as he mumbled “I'm so sorry. I should have been stronger,” over and over again. 

Tech freed the arm that wasn't holding Omega from Wrecker's grip and wound it around his large brother’s neck. With his hand, Tech pulled Wrecker's forehead toward his and whispered that he didn't blame him, every time Wrecker apologized. 

Eventually, Wrecker set Omega and Tech on the ground, with Tech having to grip his brother’s arm to keep himself upright. Wrecker looked concerningly at Tech, as the former placed a gentle hand over the latter’s grip. 

“Omega.” She hummed at the sound of her name. “Could you please grab my cane for me?”

She cocked her head until she turned to where he was pointing and found the cane on the ground next to the ramp. She hopped off the ramp and grabbed it, handing it to Tech. He thanked her as he let go of Wrecker and walked the rest of the way down the ramp. While Tech appreciated Wrecker's concern as he hovered close, Tech knew it was unnecessary. He has used a cane for almost a year now. As long as he took plenty of breaks, he would be just fine. 

When Tech reached the others, Phee gave him a teary smile, while Hunter and Crosshair still stood in shock. Although Hunter seemed to recover more quickly as he pulled Tech close. Hunter placed a hand on Tech’s head and another on his neck, fingers immediately finding the pulse. 

“I should have gone back,” Hunter whispered into Tech's hair, “I abandoned you.” 

“You could not have known I survived,” Tech argued, “I also found myself quite surprised when I discovered I did not in fact die.”

“How did you? Survive, I mean.”

“That is a question that can wait,” Tech said as he pulled away from Hunter and turned to Crosshair. He had yet to utter a single word. His hands were clutching his rifle tightly, staring at Tech as if he were a ghost. Tech doesn’t blame him. He could almost say the same for Crosshair. It had been so long since Tech had last seen his brother. When Tech fell, one of his biggest regrets was that he would never see Crosshair again. But now he was here. They both were and neither of them had moved nor spoken a word. To be quite honest, Tech was tired of all the dramatics, not to mention his brothers’ apologies. 

“If you aren’t going to say anything, then I will.” Tech paused for a moment before continuing, “Very well. Firstly, only because I have heard enough of it from Wrecker and Hunter, whatever reason you're sorry for, I forgive you and I do not blame you. Secondly, I do not regret what I did and I would do it again- oh!”

Crosshair shoved the rifle away and yanked Tech close, the former’s arms pulling the latter tight. Because he was startled by the sudden movement, Tech once again dropped his cane, but he didn’t care as he wrapped his arms around his brother. Crosshair immediately buried his face in the crook of Tech’s neck and breathed in deeply. 

“If you ever try to pull a Plan 99 again,” Crosshair mumbled, “I’ll shoot you myself.” 

“Only if you promise to never leave us again.”

Crosshair laughed wetly. “Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a very tearful reunion, his brothers and sister took him to their home where Tech was allowed to rest his legs. Hunter insisted on hearing Tech’s story first before the others told theirs. Tech suspected that theirs was far more exciting than his, but he humored them anyway. It wasn’t a very long story either. He was rescued and taken in by a local who, with the help of a doctor, helped Tech to walk again. Not wanting to put his family in danger, he repaired various items in exchange for credits, which were later used to purchase a ship and fly here. 

“I will admit,” Tech began, “I was quite worried that the Empire had taken over when that other ship hailed me. Although I suppose I should have known it wasn’t an Imperial standard ship, but seeing as I was distracted by worry, you’ll have to forgive me.”

“To be honest,” Hunter chuckled softly, “You weren’t too far off.”

With that, they explained how shortly after they lost Tech, the Empire had taken Omega. Hunter and Wrecker crossed the galaxy five times looking for her, but she, along with Crosshair, found them first. All was well for a short while until the Empire came to Pabu and took Omega once more. Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Echo had found Tantiss and went in with no backup. When Omega explained how Hemlock was defeated, it was then revealed to Tech that Crosshair had lost his hand. Tech wanted to hit himself for not noticing how Crosshair seemed to be wearing gloves in Pabu’s warm climate. Instead, Tech reached for his brother’s hand, grabbed it, and gave it a tight squeeze, which Crosshair returned. 

Later that evening, Shep decided to throw a party in Tech’s honor. Thankfully it was not a large party; mostly Tech’s family and a sprinkling of others, such as the clone cadets that Wrecker and Hunter rescued. Mox reminded Tech of Hunter in some ways, while Stak resembled Crosshair in other ways. Deke, on the other hand, reminded Tech of both himself and Wrecker. The cadet was kind and sociable like Wrecker, but Deke seemed to have an affinity for technology like Tech. They currently lived with one of Pabu’s older residents after Hunter and Wrecker brought them to the island. 

As the evening drifted on, Tech found himself stepping away from the party, if only to give his legs a rest. Omega had been helping him make introductory rounds to some of the clones they rescued as well as a few of the children that she was held captive with. While most of them were polite and just said hello, some of them wanted to stand and talk with Tech. This of course led to his legs causing him a great deal of pain, so he excused himself to find some place quiet to sit. That is how he found himself inside Shep’s home sitting in one of the chairs in the living space. 

“Not much of a party kind of guy huh?”

Tech turned in his chair to find Phee casually approaching him like he hadn’t seemingly come back from the dead. After his family decided to go back to their home, she had left them, declaring she would let them catch up. Tech tried not to be disappointed and respect her decision, but he wished he could have talked to her as well. There was much he wanted to say. 

“Normally no,” Tech replied as he subconsciously rubbed his legs. Phee’s eyes drifted to the movement, then to his cane that was leaning against the arm of the chair. “But this one is quite alright, I suppose.” 

“Yeah,” Phee chuckled, “Shep originally wanted to invite the whole island, especially since you helped with the sea surge. But I managed to talk him down into doing a smaller party.”

“Then I must thank you.”

Phee waved him off as she sat on the couch that was placed vertically to Tech’s chair. If one were to walk in, they would assume the quiet was a comfortable one, but in actuality, there were many things Tech wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. Thankfully, Phee seemed to know exactly where she wanted to start. 

“Can I ask you something that’s been bugging me?” Tech nodded. “Why’d you choose my name?”

“Well, I suppose there are a multitude of reasons as to why I picked your name. Namely, it was the first one that came to mind that did not have a known association with clones.”

“What makes you think I’m not popular?” Phee teased, a mischievous grin that did not meet her eyes graced her lips. 

“When meeting people, I sometimes researched them, so that I may prepare my family for what kind of person whoever we were meeting could be. I did the same when we first met but only found a birth record.”

Her grin turned into a sad smile as she nodded. 

“Yeah that sounds about right,” she said.

Tech decided he did not like the look of sadness on her. It did not align with the woman he knew, who was full of life and adventure. 

“Another reason,” he began again as he looked away from her, “I suppose I chose it, was because of the feelings I held toward you. Still do in fact.”

“Yeah?” her voice was coated in teasing, “Did ya think about me a lot?”

“Yes. I thought of everyone, every day. Though most of my thoughts were of my family and you. It took me far too long to return to you all and I do not wish to repeat the experience.”

When he looked back, tears had formed in her eyes and Tech began to panic. He said something wrong didn’t he? Why did he think it would be simple? They had not seen each other in almost a year. Technically to her, he was dead until today. She understandably would have moved on.

“Kriff,” she whispered, bringing his focus back to the present, where he saw her rub her eyes, “You can’t just go around sayin’ things like that, Brown Eyes. Makes me want to kiss ya.”

Tech felt heat quickly warm his face and ears. Ah. He seemed to have misread the situation. This improved things slightly. Before this could continue further, he needed to be closer. So with his cane, he pulled himself up out of the chair, slowly shuffled to the couch, and sat next to Phee. She had briefly held her hands out to catch him, but he assured her he was fine. Once seated, he made sure to rest his cane against the couch so it would not fall, then angled himself toward Phee. She was still attempting to dry her eyes, so he gently grabbed both her hands and held them in his. 

“Earlier today,” He began softly, “we did not have the chance to converse as I had wanted. I wish to apologize for how I left things between us. I was and still am, new to the idea of someone besides my family caring about my well-being. I calculated that that mission would be dangerous and there were no guarantees of our survival. You of all people deserved to have known that.”

“I will admit I was not a pretty sight for the first few days after your brothers came back,” Phee said, “I had never shown Pabu to anyone else before. I knew you and your family deserved a shot at normal life. The time we spent together before you left made me hope that I could be included in that life. I had never cared for someone that much since my sister, Shep, and Lyana.”

“Do you still care for me? In that way I mean.”

Phee pulled her hand from his grip and cupped his face. Tears once again began to well up in her eyes, but this time there was a genuine smile on her face. “Yes,” she whispered. 

“I care for you as well,” he replied. Then Tech placed his hand over hers and turned to kiss her palm. 

“If you’re going to kiss me, at least do it right.”

“Very well,” he whispered as he brought his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close. Their lips met for a moment, but it felt like an eternity to Tech. Her lips were soft, warm, and perfect in every way possible. When she pulled away, he tried not to visibly frown as he missed her warmth. He did not succeed, as she took one look at him, smiled, and kissed him again. 

“Tech!” Wrecker called, “Come back outside! We’re about to make a toast!”

Reluctantly, Tech and Phee pulled apart, with Tech visibly frowning which caused Phee to laugh and drop her head to his shoulder. 

“If it’s my party, I should get to do whatever I please,” he huffed. Phee just laughed as she pulled away from him and stood up, offering him a hand. He took it and she helped him up while she reached across for his cane to hand to him. 

“They mean well,” Phee defended half-heartedly, “Come on. It would be rude to keep them waiting.”

He offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted, as they walked back outside to all their loved ones. Everyone had a drink in their hands, non-alcoholic ones for the children and those who did not want alcohol. Tech unfortunately had to release Phee’s arm in order to take the drink offered to him. Shep smiled then raised his glass and toasted, “To coming home!”

Yes. Tech was finally home.

[melt-in-the-sun]

men whimpering audio 10 hours asmr

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commissions open

[dinoserious]

🦖

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

A man can dream but he'd be wiser not to

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light Ch. 4 - Mend

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision |

Author's Notes: I decided to name this story as a whole "Shun the Light" after a line from the Hozier song Sunlight!

I would shun the light Share in evenings cool and quiet Who would trade that hum of night? For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Content Warnings: vampire whumpee, werewolf whumpee, severe burns, biting, drinking blood, exhaustion, painful healing, implied stabbing/impalement

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Dizziness comes quickly. Matteo didn't have much strength to begin with, and blood loss takes whatever was left. He passes out beside the badly burned vampire and remains out cold until sundown.

Matteo wakes hungry, stiff, and with a piercing headache. He feels around for his backpack and pulls out a room temperature blue Gatorade. He forces himself to sit up enough to chug it down without choking.

"Fuck," he whispers into the dark room. He tosses aside the empty bottle and lies back down, groaning when his aching body finds no comfort on the wooden floor.

But when his eyes focus again on the poor creature beside him it's hard to pity himself. Even the worst post-moon hangover is better than third degree burns and a hole in the chest.

Matteo's offering of blood barely made a dent in the damage. The vampire remains weak and unable to heal, leaving him stranded in pain he can't escape.

"Stop it, stop it." Matteo curls onto his side and covers his ears to block out the miserable sounds the other makes. Desperate, he reopens another cut and presses it to the vampire's lips.

He spends the next several hours drifting in and out of consciousness. Whenever he comes to, he drinks another Gatorade, eats a protein bar, allows himself a moment to feel like absolute shit, and then resumes feeding the vampire until he passes out again.

This is the second worst day of my life.

Matteo is in no shape for this so soon after a transformation. It takes its toll. He's tense, nauseous, sore all over, and this headache will not relent. But every time he wakes, the sight of the vampire's body gradually mending encourages him to continue.

Maybe helping someone won't make him feel human again, but it's worth a shot.

The sixth time he reawakens, Matteo is surprised to see cool gray eyes peering back at him in the dark. A hoarse whisper breaks the heavy silence.

"Let me bite you."

Bone-tired and resigned, Matteo offers his arm willingly and closes his eyes as fangs pierce his wrist.

A deep, heavy numbness washes over him. Finally free of pain, this time he doesn't pass out - he falls asleep.