#injured oc

[eternalworry]

I don’t think I posted this here yet

(Ren is like 19 here)

[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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[splinterclan]

Don't Go! - A Moorsnow and Dropletsplash animatic ;v; Covers how Moorsnow adopted Dropletsplash and important moments in their lives up to present.

This took way too long to do jsjsj

[sporeclan]

< Previous | First | Next >

Another one joins the club!

[skuaclan]

Aftermath.

[charmac]

I need RCG to start writing Dennis like this again.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 31

Asking for help - Therapy - Making Amends - "I'm alive, just not well" (Elliott Lee, Alive, not well)

"Master.... please help it", Whumpee came running through the house.

Whumper looked up from their book as Whumpee came tearing into the living room.

"Help what?", Whumper frowned, "hey, relax, take a deep breath... I can't understand what you're on about."

Whumpee took a rushed breath before repeating.

"Help it please, it's dying", Whumpee hurried again.

Whumper saw tears in Whumpee's eyes.

"You're dying?", Whumper frowned.

Whumpee shook their head no.

"Alright alright. I'll humor you", Whumper got up, "take me to what you're talking about."

Whumper followed Whumpee outside to the end of their yard.

Whumpee knelt down and looked up at Whumper pleadingly.

Whumper looked along the curve until they saw two beady eyes looking up at them.

"Oh my", Whumper frowned, "a little kitten."

"I saw a car swerve and purposely hit it", Whumpee admitted, "please Master."

"Whumpee sometimes we can't fix these things. We can't mess with nature. I know it's sad, but we... can't.... help them", Whumper frowned as Whumpee wiped their eyes, "Whumpee", Whumper they sighed.

"It's not fair", Whumpee sobbed, "you saved m..."

"I know Whumpee", Whumper sighed, "I'll take it to the animal hospital though. They can give it a more comfortable good bye."

Whumpee looked at the cat sadly.

"Would you like to go with me?", Whumper started to pick up the kitten, "you have to promise to be good."

Whumpee thought quietly and nodded.

"Alright, let's go find a box and make it comfortable. I'm sure they will be happy to have someone love them for their last few moments", Whumper cradled the baby gently.

Whumpee gently pet the kitten's head as Whumper drove to the vet office.

"Whumpee, I'm sorry you have to learn about mean people like this", Whumper glanced at them, "I know I wasn't the nicest a while ago, and I hope you see me trying to be better. People are cold and heartless."

Whumpee sniffled a little and nodded, "you're a good master.. Master", Whumpee whispered.

"It's.... purring", Whumpee smiled weakly.

"It's showing you that it appreciates the love you are giving it", Whumper smiled comfortingly.

Whumper explained the situation to the vet.

"My... uh.. child saw the kitten get purposely hit. They wanted to try to save it, but I don't know if there is much we can do", Whumper sighed, "I thought we would at least give it this."

The vet nodded, and took the kitten from Whumpee.

Whumpee couldn't help but start crying.

Whumper wrapped an arm around Whumpee to comfort them.

"Shh, it's alright", Whumper whispered, "we are giving the the best we can. The vet knows how to help them now."

The car ride home was almost quiet. Whumpee's sobbing was louder than they intended.

"Whumpee when we get home, you can relax for the afternoon", Whumper sighed, "you've had a hard day."

"The... chores?", Whumpee shook.

"I'll do the chores today", Whumper sighed, "its fine."

Whumpee curled up in the corner of the living room and held one of their stuffies in their arms.

"I wonder if the kitten had a name even", Whumpee watched Whumper come in, "what if it dies without a name?"

Whumper thought quietly, "what would you have named it?"

"Hope", Whumpee answered quickly.

Whumper nodded, "well it now has a name."

Whumpee smiled.

Whumper snuck out the following day and went up to the vet.

"So what was the verdict with the kitten?", Whumper frowned.

"Unfortunately, you were right. The best thing we could do was put it down. There were too many injuries. The kitten wouldn't have had a good quality of life", the vet sighed, "how is your child doing?"

"Distraught, they named the kitten Hope. They were afraid it would die without a name", Whumper smiled, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but are their any kittens for adoption?"

"Whumpee, will you come here", Whumper called from the living room.

"Yes Master.. one minute please", Whumpee called back.

Whumper sat down, but out of excitement, they jumped back up.

Whumpee came in and knelt.

"Whumpee you have been doing so well lately. I am so proud of you", Whumper almost laughed gleefully, "you about broke my heart yesterday. So, I decided to reward you with something I think you'll love.

Whumpee looked at Whumper timidly. Their master may have changed majorly, but surprises were still a little nerve racking.

Whumpee sat down and reached down the side of their chair. They pulled up a small fur ball.

"Master.... what? Wait is that?", Whumpee almost jumped up but remembered their rules.

"This, unfortunately, is not Hope. Hope was very badly hurt. But, they believe this is one of Hope's siblings. They are doing a DNA test right now. The kitten was also found near where Hope was found. This kitten is for you, my dear", Whumper smiled, "you may come say hi."

Whumpee popped up and hurried to Whumper's side.

The kitten mewed at Whumpee as they reached a hand to pet it.

"They will be your responsibility, but I will help", Whumper smiled, "I was considering getting a pet, so this is why I went ahead and adopted them."

"What's their name?", Whumpee whispered as they got their face closer.

The kitten playfully pawed at Whumpee's nose, making them giggle.

"They don't have one just yet", Whumper chuckled as they handed the kitten to Whumpee, "I thought that could be your job."

Whumpee looked at Whumper with doe eyes.

"I get to name them?", Whumpee whispered.

"Yes my dear", Whumper nodded, then watched as Whumpee thought.

The kitten wiggled around in Whumpee's arms.

"Happy", Whumpee finally smiled, "because they made me very happy. Is that okay Master?"

"That is a very good name", Whumper smiled as they patted Whumpee's head, "the vet gave us a few things to use, but we will need to get some stuff tomorrow for Happy. It's a little late now."

Whumpee nodded as they looked down at the kitten.

"Thankyou so much Master", Whumpee smiled up at them, "this means so much."

"You're welcome dear", Whumper leaned back, "do you have any more chores to do?"

"No Master, I finished everything", Whumpee smiled, "they're purring."

"Then go ahead and enjoy some time with Happy", Whumper smiled.

"Whumpee go ahead and get ready for bed", Whumper stood at the end of the hall.

"Yes Master", Whumpee answered happily.

Whumpee set the kitten down on their mattress and started to change.

They noticed how the kitten stared at them, and they realized they were looking at a scar on Whumpee's stomach.

"Oh, Master did that a while ago. They almost killed me when they went too far, but they saved my life", Whumpee answered the unspoken question, "they're different now... honest."

The kitten meowed at Whumpee.

"Meow" Whumpee giggled.

Whumper was surprised when they saw the kitten round the corner and stare up at them.

"Hello", Whumper greeted, "I thought you were sleeping with Whumpee."

Whumper reached down a hand to see if the kitten would come to them.

Happy stared at the hand for a moment before walking toward it.

"Such a good kitty.... ow", Whumper pulled their hand back and glared at the cat, "what was that for?", Whumper watched two spots of blood coming out from their hand, "you better not make that a habit."

The kitten pranced off seemingly pleased with themself.

They kitten climbed back onto the mattress, they stopped to look at Whumpee's stomach before crawling up to Whumpee's nose and softly pawed at them.

Whumpee woke up a little and pet the kitten until they snuggled up close again.

"Goodnight Happy", Whumpee whispered.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

[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

[bloodurged]

can you imagine the kind of mood viago would go into if he found out his very competent—if somewhat impulsive—subordinate never learned how to swim? even more still, how impressed he would be with rook for managing to sneak that past his teachers and bosses all the way to full crow membership and a talon's (his, no less) favourites, however characteristically reckless the fact of it is? not that he would ever let the man know, an insult is too kind for such foolishness.

[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

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Decision

Followup to Slow Burn and Refuge

Author's Notes: just really happy I managed to write something :')

Content Warnings: vampire whump, burning alive, impaled, left to die

----

There is no unseeing those eyes or unhearing those words. No going back to blissful ignorance. No just walking away.

Matteo is left with two choices.

Kill the vampire, or help him.

It would be merciful to kill him. It would be kind.

The problem is, Matteo has never killed anyone before. Not even as a wolf. He stays in distant, rural areas to avoid just that. And now he's being asked to, in his fully aware, human state, end another life.

Is a vampire really alive?

He doesn't know, and he isn't sure it matters. The creature is clearly suffering, that's alive enough.

It could be a trap. But something tells him that isn't the case.

So help it is.

"If you bite me," he warns, "I'll leave you like this."

Who is he kidding? The vampire can't even keep his head up, let alone attack. At the very suggestion of being left he lets out a rasping sob that makes Matteo's chest tighten in sympathy.

"Okay. Okay."

He takes a deep breath and approaches. Upon closer inspection it's clear that the only thing keeping the man upright is a wooden stake protruding from his chest.

Here goes nothing.

Matteo braces himself with one foot on the wall and grips the stake. It takes a several sharp tugs and all his strength but soon it pulls free. He stumbles backwards. The vampire crumples to the floor.

Without thinking, Matteo removes his tattered flannel and drapes it over the creature's bare torso before it can accumulate any more burns. Then he hurries to the window and pulls shut the thick, ornate outer curtains, blocking out the light.

His eyes adjust quickly to the dark. He lowers himself to sit beside the vampire's trembling body.

"Guess you need blood, huh?" He sighs and stretches out his arm, making one of the deeper cuts re-open. "Lucky for you, I'm already bleeding. Open up."

----

To be continued..........?

[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.