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aftgficrec · 5 months

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ah I'm so excited you're open!!! thank you for the ridiculous amount of work you all do 🙏ok, this might be too specific but any fics with an alternate take on Andrew and Neil's post-trk reunion? Andrew gets out of easthaven early, Neil leaves the Nest later, AU's, etc.? i think it's a really interesting point in their dynamic, and I'm a sucker for sober Andrew realizing someone was watching his back for once

Feeling a bit like a Bernie Sanders’ meme – ‘I am once again asking myself why I spent so much time on an ask,’ 😅 but it's because this is such an iconic and beloved scene for our fandom. For a super fun ‘live’ first-time reader reaction to this high drama, check out ‘The King’s Men, Chapter 1 – Hello Foxhole, My Old Friend’ by @nickireadstfc here. -A

also see

Andrew's POV of throwing keys off roof here

‘Come and Save Me From It’ here (completed)

‘Learning To Feel (When You've Forgotten How)’ and the fandom meta posts here

‘pipedream’ here

‘reaching for the heights’ here

‘Lost boy’ and ‘[Un]broken’ here

‘I Know You From A Nightmare,’ ‘The Marks We Make,’ and ‘Draw Me Out, Mark Me In’ here

‘Marked’ and ‘Soulmates who can feel each other’s pain’ here

‘Of Stars and Stories’ here

‘What’s normal now?’ here

long previous recs with reunion mention

‘No More Fucks To Give’ here (updated)

‘The Sphynx and the Hare’ here (completed)

‘corvus, vulpes, lupus’ here

‘never fallen (from quite this high)’ here

‘Not a Pipe Dream’ here

‘everything and nothing begins with you’ here

Andrew gets sober, Neil stays at Evermore

‘Oh Raven,’ ‘Jailbird,’ and ‘Take to the Wing’ here

‘Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die)’ here

‘Comeback’ here

you may also like

in the dream I don't tell anyone (you put your head in my lap) by Fortheloveofexy [Rated T, 1850 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

The real Neil would never allow this, would not let himself be this vulnerable. The real Neil can barely stand to be around him. Andrew knows this. But Dream Neil? Dream Neil is a different story.

Will you be there when I come back? by Shamman [Not Rated, 299 Words, Complete, 2017]

Andrew is trapped in Easthaven with an eidetic memory and tries to focus his thoughts on the confusing image of Neil Josten's face. -Because however terrible it may look, Andrew's current circumstances are much less pleasant. Furthermore Bee has been making him sing and play the guitar in a very therapeutic attempt to make him express some sort of actual emotion over the past year.

tw: violent imagery

You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by glintchi [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2019]

Chapter 19: Yes, I Admit It, You Were Right [460 Words] Renee was waiting for him in the basement, fingers already taped, hair pulled back into a tuft of a rainbow ponytail.

Foxhole Tidbits by SpangleBangle [Collection Rated T/M, Updated 2018]

Chapter 14: My Friend, O My Friend [M, 953 Words] Prompt for Renee's reaction after Drake/Easthaven and Andrew's return.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: canonical character death

Did You Miss Me? by Deathandcommas [Rated G, 555 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

Aaron and Andrew have a late night chat after Andrew gets back from Easthaven.

tfw spoons by StrawBerryRains [Rated G, 216 Words, Complete, 2021]

Nicky offers Andrew ice cream when they arrive home from Easthaven.

A Taste of Your Own Medicine by caffeine_withdrawl [Rated M, 66454 Words, Incomplete, Updated March 2023]

Set after the infamous Thanksgiving, but then diverges from canon. Andrew and Bee decide it’s time for Andrew to come off the drugs, but works some magic so that he is allowed to do it in Columbia. Neil is tasked with helping him through it. They decide to do it the same way Andrew helped Aaron sober up, by locking him in a bathroom. Andrew doesn't react well, and switches between rage and panic. Andrew wonders if Neil is real or if he made him up because of the drugs.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: body horror, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: flashbacks, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: withdrawal, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: ptsd, tw: emotional abuse, tw: hallucinations

making it harder to breathe by Azure_Allumiia [Rated T, 1643 Words, Complete, 2021]

Christmas Break with the Foxes, featuring Andrew at Easthaven and Neil in Evermore. Foxes celebrate New Years in NYC with the ball drop.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: medical abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood

Dead Birds by Noah98 [Rated G, 1601 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

Neil just got back from Evermore and Andrew has returned from Easthaven. Riko calls. He wants a rematch and oh boy does he get it.

tw: violence, tw: blood/gore

Art

NB: just a sampling of art for this scene

“Feel Again” original song by @whatbutandreil [Tumblr, 2020]

Picking up Andrew from Easthaven part 1, part 2 comic by @coldcigarettes

andreil keys off the roof scene: animation by @hahanken | comic by @rainbowd00dles | comic by @lunapiq | art by @esklinray

I hate you comic by @thematicallycoherent

I’m not a hallucination art by @clumsyartish

Stick around long enough to figure it out for yourself. edit by @m1nyards

You are a pipe dream art by @viennemort

“you spend all this time watching our backs” edit by @matthcwboyd

not a hallucination a pipe dream art by @kryptidfox

“you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.” art by @planetmontressor

"Go inside and leave me alone." art by @dimsunstuff

“No, you’re a pipe dream.” art by @starkingdraws

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alexanderpearce · 1 month

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had a great time cosplaying god‘s most kidnappable autist

#horrifically hot day today like the second 36 of the summer + con theme was apocalypse + serious weakness kind of on theme all of it!!#heelying con gifs like its 2013 lol.under the readmore i keep changing my mind girl its just a post #serious weakness #trianon #porpentine charity heartscape #my cosplay #injury tw #<- fake #self harm tw #<- welll hehe #just to be on the safe side lol its not too visible under the makeup #my face

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cas-backwards-tie · 11 months

Text

Chapter Two: Cruel New World

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: It's your first-day living life in Wayne Manor. A new house, a new school, and of course there's the new siblings thing too.

Warnings: Negativity, Damian's Jealous, Talks of Death, Numbness, Depression, Disassociation,t Misandry, Crying, Suicidal Thoughts (if u squint), Existentialism, Cursing, Yelling, Outbursts, Anti-Police Rhetoric, Injury, Blood, Catcalling

Mentions of: Suicide, Body Fluids (mucus),

Words: 6.7k

A/N: POV kind of switches in some points, but I think it's fine. You know when it's the reader and when it's more of a third-person pov.

"Please take a seat, Miss Wayne," Alfred suggests as he pulls out a chair directly center of the long black cherry wood table. Your father sits at the opposite end of the room at the head of the table, while a smaller black-haired child sits with his back to the kitchen doors. There's one other person who sits directly across the table from where Alfred stands behind the chair meant for you.

"Are you serious? We really have to do this today of all days?" The child whines.

"I thought I told you no technology at the table this morning, Tim," Your father tells the person you're meant to sit across from. Ipad propped up on the table beside his plate, the teenage boy's grayish-blue eyes remain on the screen for a few moments as he shovels forkfuls of eggs into his mouth. In a tacit conversation, they make eye contact for a moment before he flips the cover back over the device and shoves it into the backpack by his feet. "Thank you.”

"You know, Bruce, I really need to get this essay done by this afternoon.” Tim—as you now know—explains.

"Oh? And what's it on?" Always wanting to get more involved in the kids' lives, Bruce attempts some sort of civil conversation other than indulging the begrudging eye-roll Damian throws him from across the table.

"It's on-" Tim begins to explain.

"You're really making us eat breakfast all together at-" Damian interjects.

"-the table like the nice, loving family we are? Pssh, you're lucky everyone's actually here this morning!" Dick cuts Damian off in an attempt to dissuade the boy's frustrations and some of his, perhaps just, points. Walking over to his chair he pulls it out enough to plop down.

"Everyone's coming?! Just for her?!" Damian, as you now know, complains.

"I'm afraid Stephanie has a doctor’s appointment, and Jason is... well," Bruce doesn't finish his explanation as he glances around the table.

"Jason," Dick defends, even if he's still somewhat suspicious of the man's current motives. "You'll meet them later, I'm sure," he tosses toward you as he sits at his chair between Tim and Damian still tying his tie.

"Why are you even here? Don't you have work? It's a Tuesday!" Damian chastizes Dick.

"Well if you must know, I have a few suspects I need to bring in for interviews today. They're extraditing a few people since the uptick last week."

"But I thought that-" A look from Dick makes Damian's thoughts linger in the air for a moment as he cuts himself off. Right. Next subject.

"I'm a detective over in Bludhaven," he explains to you, "Luckily I don't live here anymore, so... hopefully that lessens the overwhelming sense of a constant presence of people," he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

With a nod, you finally reach for your fork. It’d been bad enough that it seems more and more people are continuing to engage you when really, it’s been hell enough to process all the transitions currently taking place in your life. While it’s nice in some sense that you’d have breakfast with your Mom on school days like this, having someone cook for you, let alone push in your chair is… well… strange.

“Hello? He’s talking to you,” the sassy child spits at you, garnering your attention. Eyes flitting from him to the person sitting across from you beside Tim, you offer what you can in an attempted smile. It comes across more as a grimace than anything. The Detective politely calls your name, finally tightening his tie as he finishes dressing.

“It’s okay, I get it. This is all a lot. I asked if you ate breakfast with your—“ he spares a quick glance at your Father before it settles back on you, “—Mom, often before everything?”

Though he smiles and has a jovial and pleasant attitude, you can’t bring yourself to really return the favor. While he’s extending an olive branch of friendship, one you’d usually take up, you’re unable to. “Yeah. Nothing like this though,” you mutter, voice surprising even you with the quiet quality to it.

While the rest of breakfast is filled with questions and trivial conversation, you feel off, with a weary sense of the world. It’s almost like everything is a dream. Once you’ve finished your food, your eyes raise to take in the vase of flowers and candles on either side of it in their ornate silver holders sitting in the middle of the table. “Can I be excused?” Suddenly turned toward your Father, you await his hesitant permission before getting up and heading back to the room they’ve deemed yours just last night.

“She didn’t even look up at me when she answered any of my questions. That’s not good,” Dick points out. There's a hint of concern in his voice as he eyes Bruce.

“She’s probably still grieving her Mom. It only happened yesterday,” Tim proposes with a shrug as he looks up at Dick, who sits to his left.

“Shit,” Dick whispers.

“Do we even know how it happened?” Damian asks from the end of the table, hands clasped in front of himself like a miniature businessman.

“Damian,” Tim whispers with hostility, eyeing him for the inappropriate nature of his comment. Though he’s also curious, as it seems Dick is too, as they all look toward Bruce.

“What? I mean, her Mom dies and suddenly she’s a Wayne? No way,” Damian speaks with confidence.

With a clearing of his throat, Bruce stands. “It’s true. I… hadn’t-“ he begins, though hesitates as this wasn’t really a conversation he’d wanted to have with his teenage son of all people. “It wasn’t planned. It was a one-time thing back when I was a little more reckless with keeping up my image.”

“So during your Party Bruce years? Oh my god,” Dick quietly laughs with incredulity. He’d known about it, sure, that ‘phase’ of his Father… yet he hadn’t anticipated him to be that reckless. The look of guilt upon Bruce’s face is all it takes for them to know it’s true.

“I did the math, I looked into her mother’s history, and… it all adds up. I wouldn’t have taken custody of her yesterday if I wasn’t certain.”

“So she was an accident? Ha!” Damian laughs as if he wasn’t technically an accident on his Father’s behalf as well.

“Hey! I will not hear any jokes or have any information imparted on her with dislike. It wasn’t her fault, and I won’t see anything but acceptance and welcoming from you three, will I?” His stern voice sends chills down their spines to some degree. While Bruce doesn’t often take up a fatherly role in terms other than the awful jokes and rare wistful advice, this is a side none of them have ever gotten quite used to.

“Fine. But I’m not changing my entire life around for her. Jon is still coming over after school,” Damian announces with a click of his tongue and a cross of his arms over his chest.

“Good. Now I know this absolutely will not leave the room but I looked into her cause of death last night and it was a car crash.” With that, Bruce leaves the table.

“Sometimes things are just life, I guess,” Dick thinks aloud, still processing the information.

How cool is it that this room has a window seat? Absolutely awesome! Unfortunately, that’s not something you can fully appreciate as everything has already started to feel numb. They’d explained at the hospital that it’d been a car crash. You know the number of stitches they’d placed, the degree of burns she’d taken as they attempted several grafts to save her life… yet it wasn’t enough. There was nothing they could do. A frown overtakes your expression as a pinch of immense sadness pricks your heart.

“I’ll do it-“ you hear his voice from outside the door, “-I’m sure.” With three knocks and no response, it creaks open. Unbothered to check who it is, you watch as the rain droplets roll down the leaves on the tree outside your window and slowly drip toward the ground below. He clears his throat and shifts on his feet before speaking. “I really hate to do this to you. I know everyone processes things in their own time, but I’ve got to make arrangements on top of work today and so the best thing I can think to do is get you into a routine.” A look in his direction is all it takes; uniform neatly folded in his extended arms, your Father presents it to you with a sympathetic look on his face.

“What about Melville High?” The question leaves your lips, and all he can think is that you’re too innocent for this world. He doesn't even know you, but already the world has taken too much from you.

“It’s… too far, I’m afraid. Gotham Metro Academy is where Damian goes, and it has a lot of better opportunities from what I’ve seen. I’m sure you’ll like it once you get settled in.”

It isn’t the end of the conversation. While you’re barely responding, he imparts as much wisdom and comfort as he’s able, but it goes in one ear and out the other. All too soon you find yourself running your hands over the lapels of your navy uniform’s blazer. A prep school with uniforms was something you’d never imagined in your future—in fact—it’d been far from it! Growing up with enough money to keep you comfortable was fine, but prep school was never in the cards. You and your Mom knew that. Without too much thought to your hair and any accessories or makeup, Alfred is rushing you downstairs and into the awaiting Rolls Royce.

“Had you ever been to Gotham prior, Miss?” Alfred asks from the driver’s seat as you pull away from the infamous Wayne Manor. It looks much more opulent and welcoming in the daylight, yet it still has an intimidating air of aristocracy to you.

“Um… just once, a long time ago.” It hurts your chest to think about; there’d been a weekend you’d gone with your Mom a few years back when she’d wanted to show you all the sights. From the shows to the Financial District, to the historical sights and monuments, it’d been a weekend to remember, truly. If memory serves you right, you even still have a sweater and baseball cap tucked away somewhere from that trip.

Expecting some sort of snarky remark from the child you’ve deduced is Damian, you finally take him in. Sure, everyone’s heard of him. He’s a celebrity for what it’s worth: ‘Bruce Wayne’s Secret Son’ the headlines read. It was national news at the time, his Mom still remaining a mystery. His skin is darker than yours, and while his eyes are a striking green, you can’t deny that he has a resemblance to your Father. Neither can you deny your resemblance, either, really.

“What?” Damian finally bites. With a quiet, automatic ‘sorry’ and a shift of your eyes out the window and away from the kid on his phone, you can’t help but think about it.

Was Bruce Wayne really as much of a playboy as the media made him out to be? Yours and Damian’s mom would surely proffer the confirmation. Yet, having met the legendary man behind the technological empire, you aren’t sure he really seems the type. As much as your mother tried to keep you from boys and men, you’d met more than your fair share of assholes. Womanizers, scumbags, misogynists; no matter the differences in look or personality, there were always a few similarities they’d have in common, usually in their speech, behavior, or beliefs.

Nevertheless, it’s odd that you’ve been able to place the term ‘Father’ in his grasp so easily. Your mother had feigned a forgetful memory oftentimes when you’d ask during your childhood. Only offering the slightest of details and assuring you that he’d left the both of you as a baby. It was only as you grew that she eventually let you know that whatever relationship the two of them had, it wasn’t as serious as one would expect of a mother and father. She’d never named him, exactly, having always told you it wasn’t important. He wasn’t worth searching for, seeking out, begging for some answer you surely didn’t want to hear. Why? Why did you leave us? Why don’t you care about us? It was all a waste of time. That much, you knew. Never, even in your dreams would you imagine it’d be the Bruce Wayne.

Before you know it, the trees and streetlights are turning into buildings and stoplights. While you're nervous about going to a new school, it also provides a bit of excitement at the thought of reinventing yourself and making new friends. Surely with the funding from Wayne Enterprises, it'll have more clubs, activities, and maybe more sports, too. You'd always wanted to try out for sports or even be on the varsity squads if possible. As the car slows along the street, Alfred meets your anxious eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Damian, I expect you'll be there if Miss--" he says your name, "--needs anything. I'm going to park the car and escort you inside, as there happens to be a bit of preliminary paperwork your Father has requested I accompany you to fill out."

Surprisingly, Damian doesn't refute Alfred's sentiment, though as he parks the car, your half-brother hastily exits, headphones still in his ears as he scrolls through his phone. A quiet 'see ya later' is heard before the door slams shut. Soon enough you've filled out the registration forms and are given a schedule and tour. Alfred offers you a courteous nod and a lingering hand on your shoulder before he departs for the day. "I'll be here to pick you up when the school lets out. You can do this, Miss," he assures with a warm smile.

It was somewhat embarrassing that you'd had to interrupt class to join in on eleventh-grade, American Literature, yet upon introduction, it doesn't go past your observation that many of the kids start whispering to one another. While a few people attempt to talk to you, for the most part, you feel overwhelmed with all the information and the way the lesson quickly continues. Trying to catch up and take everything in, it all feels like too much, and the unintentional tendency to disassociate naturally begins to happen. You zone out for most of the classes, the day passing in whirlwinds and sympathetic smiles from the teachers.

When school lets out, you find Alfred exactly where he'd parked this morning in front of the school. Leant against the car with his hands clasped in front of him, you begin making your way down the steps to meet him. Two boys quickly pass you, both laughing as they playfully smack one another's arms and talk in hushed voices. As you approach the car you realize it's Damian and some boy. He has friends? Who would be friends with him? He seemed so rude earlier, you can't help but think. Maybe he's just upset because you came along.

"Who's this?" The boy in the blue jacket asks as he watches you join Alfred.

"Mister Kent," Alfred greets the boy, "I take it you'll be joining us tonight?" When the boy flashes a white smile full of bright teeth up at him with an eager nod, you take it this is a family friend.

"She's... apparently Dad's daughter," Damian reveals, eyes slicing across the space till the intimidating green orbs land on you. "Don't mind her. I planned a few things we could maybe do when we get to the Manor! I just got Mario Kart Ten and it's supposed to have a bunch of new maps and characters!"

Upon Alfred opening the car door, all three of you slide into the vehicle, the boy separating you and Damian in the backseat. "So... your sister, you mean," He laughs. Despite what he'd said about ignoring you, the boy turns his smile your way with an extension of his hand. "I'm Jon! Damian's best friend. I actually go to West Reeves but I got out early so I could catch a ride to your house. You are..?"

Revealing your name, he repeats it with a fondness as you shake his hand. "I don't know that I'd say best," Damian groans with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh hush it! Yes, you would," Jon argues, nudging your half-brother with his body as the two laugh.

"How was your first day, Miss? Did it go alright?" Alfred asks in the rearview mirror before pulling off the school's sidewalk and onto the street.

While this question was unexpected, you can't answer it. Was today good? You're unsure that any sort of sentiment could capture what today was like, truly. With your mother's death, the move, the new school, new people, and the luxury of it all... you feel unable to describe it all in one simple response. Sufficing for a nod, you purse your lips before opting for a quiet "Thanks." If nothing else, you can't deny that this old man has been kind to you since the moment you arrived. It seems he cares, but... isn't that also his job? You're not sure how butlers work, exactly, but surely that detail encompasses part of his job description, you think.

With the car parked in the driveway, you all exit the vehicle and head inside. Alfred asks if anyone wants a snack, however, you shake your head and point upstairs, signaling your destination.

You aren't sure what comes over you, a wave of hurt--sadness-angst, pain... there are endless synonyms for whatever it is that washes over you. It winds up there, lingering in your chest like a weight you hadn't realized was weighing your shoulders down. Maybe it was the attention, the comments, the questions, the energy it took to put on a 'fine' facade, yet it all finally comes crumbling down. With the click of the lock on the door, you make the final steps toward your unfamiliar bed. Letting the backpack fall from your shoulders haphazardly on the carpeted floors, you flop onto the bed face first, chest hitting the plush comforter before the rest of your body follows, the rebound sending your body bouncing slightly. Face screwing up into one of pain, you do your best to hold it back, and you're not quite sure why. No one's around, no one cares, so why won't you let yourself cry? Would that make it all real? Would that mean you're accepting her death? That she's really gone? That you're letting go? Moving on with your life? Thoughts of guilt consume you as you feel as though you should've known, you should've called her, said something, asked her to pick you up that day. Anything would've changed the chain in the course of events, right?

It's then, with the realization of the butterfly effect that a sob wracks your chest and tears stream down your cheeks. Like rapid fire, the sting of hot, salty tears cascade down your skin leaving streaks of mascara in its wake, you're sure. Screaming into your pillow, you can't help but struggle to breathe as you're not sure what to do. How do you move on from this? Where do you begin? What's left in your life, really? What does anything matter if she's gone? Your mom? The only person who's been there through your whole life from the beginning till... well, now. She was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime, your... everything. At the end of every day you always knew you'd have her to go back to. Never has the fear of being alone crossed your mind until right this second. Now you understand why so many people commit suicide each year. If their pain feels anything like this, then you understand. All you can think, wish, and mentally pray for is this to stop. For the tears to stop falling and your breath to stop coming in quick bursts of panicked, hyperventilating heaves. Snot runs down your lips and it's hard to see with the blurriness of the tears in your eyes.

After a while, the crying eventually dies down and you lie--wishfully--lifeless on your bed. A small hand towel you'd grabbed from the bathroom is folded under your face where the tears would fall and you've folded it over the few times you'd blown your mucousy snot into it. Silence consumes the room, and you've found yourself simply staring up at the ceiling for what feels like hours. Constantly caught in your thoughts, between crying and being eerily silent, you're unsure if all this was destined to happen. Or maybe it was supposed to come out sooner. Maybe it's only because you've been pushing everything down into a deep dark place that only feels safe for you to express once you're absolutely sure you're alone.

In the midst of a quiet moment, your eyes and throat sore, head throbbing, there's a knock at the door. "Dinner will be served in just a few minutes." It's Alfred. You hope he hadn't heard your crying, though if he had... what can you really do? Nothing... just like everything else in life. You can't do anything.

With a quick splash of cold water on your face, hands combing your hair down, and making sure you look as presentable as possible, you're ready. Aside from the slight red tinge that lingers around your eyes and the dark circles beneath them that are impossible to get rid of, you head downstairs. While you're sat in the same spot as this morning, you're joined by many more people this time. Bruce and Damian both sit at the ends of the table again, Tim sits across from you, though this time he's flanked by the Detective, and another man you don't recognize. He has a white stripe in his hair and a longer face than the others, but it suits him with his angular features. On your right sits a very tall and broad man clad in a business suit and glasses. Past him, sits Jon--who you'd met this afternoon--and across from him there's one more person who makes the table uneven in terms of people. It's a blonde girl, with an enticing sparkle in her eyes and a charming smile from what you can see from the other side of the table.

"This is my good friend, and Jon's dad, Clark Kent," Bruce introduces, gesturing to the man beside you. Said man holds out his big hand and offers a friendly smile.

"Pleasure to meet you," he recites your name and you reciprocate the handshake. It's good to know that not everyone in Damian's association is a complete asshole, you suppose.

"Nice to meet you too," you respond quietly. With the meal served, everyone dives into eating, leaving you a little unsettled. While your mother had come from a very religious upbringing, she hadn't forced it on you. Yet, you'd still find yourself and your mom praying before dinner to whatever God or higher deity might exist. In a way, it was more to give thanks each day for being alive and having food on the table. Sometimes it was a conversation starter when someone would mention what their day entailed, the good things they'd seen, or maybe the bad things they'd ask for protection from. Nevertheless, it's clear that this family operates differently; digging your fork into the fancy black-peppered pork roast, you use your knife to slice a piece off for yourself. Not in the mood to talk at the moment, you simply listen to what everyone's discussing.

With the lack of response they'd gotten from you, Bruce opts for talking to Clark about business and how things have been. Dick and Tim fill in the mysterious man on the little they knew of you. The blonde girl talks with the younger boys at the end of the table at moments but also butts into the other conversation among the young adults diagonally across the table from you. Stabbing multiple string green beans onto your fork, you don't make eye contact with anyone as you simply try to get through this dinner. Maybe then you can go upstairs and try to relax away from everyone.

"-something we shouldn't really talk about too much, but I can guess the funeral will be by the end of next week with all the arrangements I made today," Bruce speaks to Clark.

"Wait, what?" Your voice is quiet, only drawing the attention of those sitting closest to you. Butting into their conversation, you raise your eyes to meet your Father's surprised blue eyes.

"The funeral will be at the end of next week, I'm presuming. It'll take a little while with all the arrangements," he repeats. Though he seems hesitant, he doesn't keep himself from speaking it again. After all, he's someone who stands behind his actions.

"What? Why?" Your fork clanks against the chinaware, lips parted in shock as you dropped it. "You made the arrangements without me?"

"Yes. It was important that you go to school and it was all right there in the will." Forkful of mashed potatoes lingering in the air as his blue eyes bore into yours, you find your breath beginning to rise and fall at a faster rate.

Of course, none of them know your buttons and what it looks like once they've been pressed, but if your mother was here right now, she'd know. With a screech of the chair being pushed back hastily and a quiet slam of your palms on the table to stand, you're livid. "Why would you do that? How could you do that?!" Hands shaking, you begin to gesticulate, any former semblance of masked placation now fallen. All eyes are transfixed on your figure. "She's my mother! Mine! You don't even know her- I do! I know what she would've wanted, and this isn't it. What, just because your name was on my birth certificate that means you get to take over my life? You, who doesn't even know anything about me, and yet you act like we're best friends! Your children call you 'Bruce' and you have no problem with it! You don't get to just come into my life and fuck everything up! You sleep with her once, what? Sixteen years ago and now you come in and take everything?" A wry laugh leaves your lips, "Well, more for you, I guess! Did you ever stop to think that there's a reason I had no idea who you were? Let alone, why she never told me? She never once asked for your money or your help, and now I'm just here. All my stuff? Gone. All my friends and family? Gone, a-"

"-We can go get your-" The Detective begins.

"-Oh, shut up! You really think anyone wants to hear what you have to say? You're adopted, you're not even related to me! You don't know me. None of you do! The only good thing about this is I don't have to put up with being interrogated by the BPD every goddamn time I walk down the halls of school. But I'd at least take that over never seeing my friends again!"

"-What do you mean?" He follows up, commenting over you. Everyone else looks around the table silently, taken aback by what they're witnessing.

"You want to 'Bring Justice to Bludhaven', I guess, when everyone already knows what happened to Perdy Chapman! Everyone except the BPD, I guess!"

"How dare you?! You can't speak to my brother like that, you-"

"Finally! The only person I'm actually related to here. My half-brother, the mysterious 'Wayne Boy' who doesn't have a mom! You have no fucking empathy for me, you've been giving me shit all day! And yet you're the only person I would've expected to actually give a damn! So sit your ass down, pendejo twerp!"

Without asking for permission you storm out of the dining room and through the living room toward the staircase.

"I'm guessing you're done with your dinner?"

The voice stops you in your tracks, hand on the banister, you let out a loud sigh, shoulders falling before you try to maintain a jovial demeanor when turning to him. "I don't need you to do anything for me, Alfred. I think it's fucking ridiculous to have a servant when it's the twenty-first century, for crying out loud!"

"It's my job. I assure you he pays me, if that makes it any better," Alfred speaks in a calm tone, unfazed by your words or behavior.

"Great! Well, I still don't need you doing things for me that I can do myself. Thank you, though," while the words come out through tense, grit-together teeth, you turn and head upstairs. It doesn't take long to get to your backpack, slinging it over your shoulders. Luckily, this was the one thing you knew you could do with the advantages of not only your room but a backyard. Opening the window, you climb out onto the tree branch a few feet away.

Soon enough, you're on solid ground, out of the boundaries and gate of Wayne Manor. With a heaving chest and shaky hands, you speedwalk down the road toward where you know the bridge will be heading into Bludhaven from the transfer point on the Eastern Seaboard. This time for whatever reason, you can't bring yourself to cry. Maybe all the tears had already flooded from your body this evening, but nothing emanates from your tear ducts. Eyeing the blood that's already starting to dry on your palms from the splinters and the last little drop you'd had to take from the tree, you scraped your palm.

It'd been silent upon your departure from the dining room. Bruce insisted that everyone return to eating, that everything was fine, and that this wasn't unexpected. While things returned normal for the most part, Jason excused himself with a look toward his father. It wasn't until an alarm rang from Bruce's phone that he groaned and pulled it out only to find the surveillance outside capturing your figure leaving the premises. Announcing what the 'emergency' was, at everyone's persistence, Jon ran out of the room before Bruce could elect Clark to go check where you were headed.

It's a lone road, cypress trees lining it and gravel-filled sides. With it only being garnered by private property of the elite, and no real intersections for miles, no cars pass in either direction. As the sound of a faraway motorcycle approaches, you don't let it deter you. It'll be at least an hour or more before any of them realize you've left the property. They all think you're just upstairs crying to yourself, most likely. Rage still swirls in your gut, however, it's drained somewhat, being replaced by the determination to get home. A billionaire, his family, servants, and even a few splinters won't stop you. It doesn't strike you as odd that the sound of the nearing motorcycle slows; after all, not many people hitchhike on this road, you're guessing, and with the speed limit being higher in this area.

Jon had been faster, intrigued for some reason--his justification upon later questioning--to find out where you were going. Clark trails behind him, neither of them bothering to change clothes as they fly above the closest road, trailing you from a distance silently. It's only when they spot the motorcyclist approaching you that they hold their position.

"Where do you think you're going?" The voice is unfamiliar. While being catcalled isn't a stranger to you, it's still annoying that it'll happen in the middle of fucking nowhere. Ignoring the motorcycle that now stalls to your left, you continue walking with determination, eyes ahead and fists wrapped around each strap of your backpack upon your stiff shoulders. "Really? You're gonna ignore me and play it that way? Get on the motorcycle," the man calls your nickname, which elicits a reaction from you.

Eyes widening and lips parting, and eyebrows shooting upward, you finally look at the man. You don't remember his name, but he'd been sitting at the table across from you between Tim and that Detective. Expression immediately turning into one of anger, your jaw setting, you feel reinspired to make your way to Bludhaven. "I'm not going back! I can't," you argue, "plus I don't even know you. Why would I go with you?!"

A chuckle leaves his lips and you hear the shifting of plastic before the motorcycle revs in a way that elicits an automatic jump from your body. The motorcycle speeds a few feet down the road before it does a loop and skirts into a stopped position just a few feet in front of you. Legs on either side of the vehicle, the man flicks the visor of his helmet back up and reaches into the back compartment, producing another. Before you have time to react, he throws the helmet your way. Hands instinctively reach out to catch it instead of letting yourself get hit with the speed of it. You wince; it pushes the splinters further into your palm. You come to a standstill a few feet away from him as you lift the helmet slowly only to see the blood starting to pool around them again.

"I'm Jason," he reveals, "I don't know where you plan to go, running away like this, but you don't think the old man will notice you're gone sooner than later? What's your plan then?"

Irritation and a desperate anger linger in your chest as your eyes finally raise to meet his. "Well, Jason, it's none of your business! Regardless, it doesn't matter. You can't stop me." Approaching him, you're about to shove the helmet in his hands when he raises one of his own, palm facing you.

"Truce? Look, I know you don't know me, but I was like you. I grew up in Crime Alley and had to steal tires for a living. I tried to steal the-" he stops himself, another chuckle escaping his lips, "the old man's, and that's how we met. I get it... it's not easy, and, no one expects you to just go along with everything, alright? If you're thinking about going home, well, that'll take what-? Hours? You really want to walk for hours to... where are you from, again? Bludhaven? What part?"

"Canaveron District, yeah," you respond gruffly, some of the tension leaving your shoulders.

"You won't get there for another three hours walking, at best. If you just want to get your things, well, I can take you there. But we'd have to get everyone else-"

"No! no, I don't want-"

"-If you let me finish," he warns, "I was going to say get the others to help tomorrow or this weekend, we can get the rest. Alright? Just essentials, and I bring you right back here. Got it?" His eyes search yours for a moment before he adds, "That's the best I can do for you, kid. Otherwise, I've gotta drag you back to the Manor kicking and screaming, which I really don't want to do."

"He sent you?" You weren't too surprised, only that if anyone was coming, you figured it would've been Bruce, himself. It's only when Jason notices you looking around and contemplating your decision that he cocks his head toward the Manor, signaling the Kents to leave. He's got this.

"No. I came, because... unlike those other dicks, I actually know what it's like to come from, well, somewhere that's not the greatest," he admits, a look of sympathy and understanding in his eyes.

"And this isn't some scam? You just tell me this, get me on the bike, and then take me back to the White House?" This elicits a laugh from the man, and he runs a gloved hand through his black and white hair.

"Look, I don't know how much they've mentioned about me, but... let's just say I'm not exactly in Bruce's good favor if you know what I mean." Reading the look on your face, he expands. "I'm not exactly the goody-two-shoes of the family. If you want your stuff, I'll take you, but only because I know he wouldn't do that."

"Why?" Standing in silence, the two of you search one another's eyes for any sense of understanding. It's tacit, the question that you both know you were really asking, yet he doesn't make you voice it: why would you do this for me?

"Because I know what it's like to have everything taken from you." A sigh leaves his lips, and you can tell simply from his stance and demeanor that this man has been through much more than he's letting on. "If you wanna do this, we should get going. I can't be out too late tonight. You coming? Or should I call the old man and let him know what your plan is?" With a raised brow and eyes flicking toward the helmet in your hands and back to your eyes, he awaits an answer.

"I'm coming." Sliding the helmet over your head, you approach the vehicle. "Just... don't tell him, please! At least don't tell him for another... fifteen minutes?" The request elicits a questioning look before a smirk replaces it.

"Deal. Hang on," he requests. Shifting the bike to stand upright, he leans closer and reaches under your chin to clip a strap in place you hadn't noticed. He tightens it, checks with you, and then gets onto the bike. "You ever ridden a motorcycle?"

With a thick swallow, your eyes shift from his to the bike. Sliding over the seat, you're unsure where to place your feet, but Jason instructs you, making sure you're comfortable before you slide your arms around his waist and brace for takeoff. Visor flicked down and everything in place, he revs the motorcycle before speeding down the road.

Beneath the helmet, the ends of your hair tickle your arm as it whips through the air. Cool breeze wooshes past your body, arms able to feel the chill through the blazer, your legs gaining goosebumps through the exhilarating experience. Cypress trees turn into willows, which become more and more sparse as gates and brick walls slowly fade with the elitist properties into cemeteries and then into more forest before turning more industrial. As different plants and factories appear, so do the cars. Jason weaves in and out of traffic as he maneuvers his way down the highway and onto the bridge that winds around Gotham and finally goes into Bludhaven. The lights and sights passing this fast is intimidating at the thought of crashing, however, it's thrilling in a way you've also never experienced. Skyscrapers line the island, lights, signs, and monuments only add a sort of fascination and exuberant liveliness to it. As the Wayne Enterprises sign passes, you finally feel comfortable enough to remove one hand from Jason's side for a moment, long enough to flash a quick middle finger at the sign before fearfully grabbing onto his jacket again.

With a laugh and shake of his head, he removes a hand from the handlebar to flip a bird alongside her, eliciting what he thinks is a laugh. Nevertheless, he can feel the fear in her grip so he returns his hand to the handlebars and makes sure to keep his focus on the road. It's not likely they'd crash, not unless someone was out for him and knows his bike, and his civilian identity. Not that he goes too far out of his way to hide it, but it's not impossible. He's confident in his abilities, but considering they don't know each other the best, he doesn't do anything to further scare her.

As he draws nearer to the Canaveron District, he slows down enough for her to give him directions. Parking the bike outside the apartment complex she's identified, Jason helps her off the bike and stashes the helmets in the back. "Lead the way, little lady," he encourages.

~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980

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hmshermitcraft · 6 months

Note

Grian right hand was softly holding onto Mumbo's right hand. Soft chirps were heard as Mumbk fangs were in Grian's neck. Mumbo wasn't hungry, but someone ejected Grian bloodstream with something poison only to avians. The rest of the Hermits were trying to find the culprit while Mumbo stayed with Grian.

It maybe still wasn't the smartest idea for Mumbo to drink so much blood, but he'd take a few hours of feeling nauseous and bloated if it meant Grian made it out of this safe. Once he's drunk enough of the poison out, then he can start feeding Grian potions to regenerate some of that lost blood.

He thinks he's doing an alright job. He's stopped trembling at least! That was... A problem. But it's hard not to when he's this nervous about Grian.

He's sure he'll break down later over all this. And Grian will be there, a bit drowsy but on the mend, to tell him it's all okay. He's holding onto that thought.

#hermitshipping #ask #grian tag #mumbo tag #grumbo #polyhermits #mod 🎀#weekly theme: halloween #blood loss tw #injury tw

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desfraisespartout · 7 months

Text

Torturing myself with a bad end What If scenario in which Ultima manipulated Dion into killing Terence.

My heart is bleeding... 😭

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi spoilers #flareknight #teredion #dion lesage #terence (ffxvi)#i'm so sorry dion #ffxvi #desfraisespartout drawing #final fantasy #fanart #game #ff16 #was drawing with friends over the theme of puppets and this happened #tw: injury #i have two modes: fluff and angst #angst won tonight

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danilovefest · 6 days

Text

Dani is helped onto his bike for a photo session, Valencia, 2003

#dani pedrosa #theme: 125cc #theme: injury #media: image #year: 2003 #injury #danilovefest

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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year

Text

I went on a date with my girlfriend at a theme park, and in the middle of it I witnessed my cousin hitting his head while he went down a water slide. My mom was also there which was honestly embarrassing.

#dream #dad #father #girlfriend #family #theme park #park #cousin #injury #water slide #nightmare #mom #mother

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kriimhild · 1 year

Text

We gone too far #15-16

See more on Patreon

tw:

threat a specific human

torture

blood

scars

foul language

adult themes mention

violence

i'm terrible at English sorry about that.

Page collection 1-9

Page collection 10-14 15

16 tw: blood/scars

#FNAFDailyDaycareAU #fnaf #fnafsundrop #fnafmoondrop #warning!#scars #injuries #tw blood #fnaf security breach #fnaf oc #violence #Self Promotion #mention of killing #adult themes #Tags are because of the comic's lore I don't support any harmful themes!

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tangledinink · 11 months

Text

Chapter Seventeen of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up! The gang puts it all on the line for their family and makes their grand debut in the Battle Nexus ring. Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

Raph had never heard thunder before.

Well, he had. At least, he thought he had, way off in the distance, far above them. He had thought thunder was quiet. Quiet and far away, all the way up in the sky, so far above them that you could barely even hear it.

He hadn’t known it could be so loud.

Another crash cracked up from up above, and their bedroom window lit up white for just a second, making him jump and go scrambling under his covers. What was that!? Why did the sky light up!? Was something happening!? What if this was a really bad storm and that’s why it was so loud?! Was the sky gonna fall down?! Were aliens invading?!

“Raph,”

He resisted the urge to gasp at the noise, jumping slightly, whipping around to the source of the noise-- only to spot his babiest brother huddled up in his door frame, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Oh.

He must be scared, too.

“Was’ wrong, Mikey?” He asked anyway, crawling out from under the covers and padding over to his brother’s side, immediately grabbing his hand. Mikey sobbed softly in response, clinging to Raph like a lifeline.

“The sky is yelling!” He whimpered.

“Yeah. I know,” Raph said, wrapping his arms around the other to keep him close, to protect him. “It’s scary.”

“Yeah…” Mikey sniffled loudly, grabbing fistfuls of his brother’s pajamas. “I don’ like it!”

“Me neither,” Raph admitted. “... Do you wanna come sleep with me?”

Mikey sniffled loudly, nodding a bit, and Raph slowly guided him back into his bed, covering them both up with blankets and handing his favorite teddy bear over to Mikey to hold, which he immediately wrapped himself around, hiding in its fur. That made Raph smile a bit, and he sighed softly, slowly settling down. Some more thunder rumbled off in the distance, and Mikey whimpered and jumped, but Raph scooped him up and held him tight and Mikey seemed a bit less scared, and in turn, Raph felt a bit less scared, too.

As soon as they had settled down properly and snuggled up, however, Raph paused.

“Hey. Mikey?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Leo and Donnie?”

“Uhm,” Mikey blinked slowly, and then shrugged. “I’unno.”

“Do you think they’re scared, too?”

“I’unno. Maybe.”

That was good enough for Raph.

Though they had just gotten settled, he wasted no time in scrambling back out of bed, grabbing Mikey’s hand and tugging gently at him.

“Come on. Let’s go find them.”

With blankets and teddy bears in tow, the two marched down the hall and to the stairs, beginning to journey upwards to Leo and Donnie’s rooms. Every now and again, sound would shake the house, and Mikey would whine, but Raph would find his hand and squeeze it tight each time, and they would keep going.

They approached Donnie’s room first. Raph poked his head inside, quiet and hesitant, wondering if he would find a sleeping brother or not--

Instead, he found two. Neither of which were sleeping, but rather, were huddled together beneath the covers of Donnie’s bed to hide.

Leo’s eyes widened.

“Raph--!” He exclaimed, only to get cut off by another crash from the storm outside. Both twins gasped loudly in response, flinching back and squirming even closer together, clinging to one another.

See? His big brother senses were never wrong. Taking Mikey along with him, Raph made his way quickly over to Donnie’s bed, reaching up so he could grab at his other two siblings, tugging at the blankets they were huddled beneath slightly.

“Come on,” he bade. “I know where we can hide.”

It took a bit of coaxing, but eventually, he got Leo and Donnie out of bed, too, though they were both wrapped up in a blanket together, draped over their bodies like a shared cape. Once he had a chain of little brothers trailing behind him, all connected by held hands, they set off on their journey, back into the hallway and down the stairs. Lightning flashed brightly outside, and Leo whined, but Raphael led them onwards.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “I don’t think it can get inside. And we’re almost there.”

They all four made their way down the second flight of stairs as well, down to the first floor, around the corner, and down the hall, and to a door, cracked halfway open. As quietly as he could, Raph led the group in. And, one by one, he helped hoist each of them up into their sleeping father’s bed before he followed suit, curling up under the covers and settling in, so that his three younger siblings were sandwiched between himself and their dad.

“We’ll be safe here,” he whispered, watching as the others curled up, settling in, Mikey snuggled up beneath his dad’s arms and Donnie and Leo tangled together in a confusing puzzle of stubby five-year-old limbs. “I promise. Dad won’t let anything get us.”

---

The entire group flinched at the roars of the stadium around them, looking up wildly at the thousands of screaming yokai on every side of them. Donnie hissed softly, his hands flying up to the headphones to adjust. He knew it was going to be loud, but-- christ.

“Uhm, and daughter of Lou Jitsu! Excuse you!” April yelled up at the announcement, still echoing through the stadium, as if it might be able to hear her.

“Look!” Mikey gasped, pointing upwards. “I think I can see Dad!”

---

He actually had tried to throw himself over the balcony this time.

Not that it worked. Stupid witch ex-girlfriend and her stupid witch spells.

He had to get out of this goddamn Luxury Box.

Those were his children down there. He should be with them.

He tried everything. Every option he possibly had, he tried it. Pleading, threatening, physically attacking the guards-- thus far, none of it had worked. Of course it hadn’t. Part of him had known it wouldn’t, because Big Mama already knew this song-and-dance and she had never lost before. This was an old game to her. She had over a decade of experience in keeping him where he did not want to be.

If it were that simple to wriggle his way out of her trap, his life would be very different today.

He tried anyway.

All it had gotten him so far was this fuzzy spin to his head and a painful tingle in his nerves that was quite nearly nostalgic.

“Let me down,” he snarled, for the millionth time, clinging to the railings of the balcony so hard that his knuckles were white, absolutely bristling. “I should-- I should get to fight with them. Since when have you ever denied Lou Jitsu a performance? Let me--”

“Noodles, dearheart, that would make it too easy!” She scoffed, tsking a bit, having long since lost interest in anything he had to say. “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge. But don’t fret, huggypoo. You can still watch. Come on-- sit with me.”

---

Leo’s head jerked around when the voice over the loudspeaker continued, a low rumble overtaking the Nexus.

“Versus…”

A door, identical to the one they had just passed through, opened up on the other side of the ring. A pair of glowing yellow eyes shone through the darkness across the way.

“Eugh boi…” Leo muttered.

“Representing the Battle Nexus-- The Ikuchi!”

Their jaw was the first thing to emerge into the ring, their lips curled back to show off long, curved fangs like a snake. Their snout was long and pointed, with two horns erupting from their head just above their eyes. At first, Leo thought that it was some kind of a creature with a long neck-- but then they just kept coming and coming and coming and coming, and Leo realized two things.

One-- that this didn’t just have fangs like a snake, rather, it was a snake. Or something snake-like, anyway, with a long, winding body, decorated with gleaming scales and dripping with a thick, oily substance of some kind, (he could already hear Donnie gagging.)

Two-- this thing was fucking huge. It was like they were battling a fucking subway. The creature reared back slightly, its head and neck arching back so it could look down at them-- far down at them, and it snorted, a spray of fine mist that smelled like the ocean and felt like ice water raining down on them.

“Gross!” Mikey hissed, holding his hands up to shield himself from the impromptu shower.

“Fight!” The announcer howled up above.

Every muscle in the Ikuchi’s body coiled, and Leo’s eyes widened.

“Run!” Raph howled, and Leo didn’t need to be told twice. He threw himself off to the side, rolling out of the way, and felt the very ground tremble just barely a second later, nearly throwing him off his feet as the yokai slammed its tail down in the space where they just were, leaving a crater in its wake. For a second, Leo panicked, his eyes frantically darting about for his siblings-- relief flooded him as he spotted them running in the opposite direction, having gone right where he went left, but all intact and accounted for. Thank god.

The Ikuchi reeled back, snarling loudly, turning its attention towards the larger group. Leo bristled, his trajectory immediately changing.

“HEY! Back off!” He yelled, throwing himself at the creature, twisting his body to slam the side of his foot into their side. It was a good blow-- a solid blow. And Leo was sure that if they were fighting anything else, it would have sent them reeling from the contact.

But, as it were, he all but bounced off of the creature, his foot sliding across the oily surface of their hide and sending him sprawling, just barely able to avoid falling flat on his back as he swore. And quite frankly, the creature barely even seemed to feel it. There was no flinch, no cry of pain, and Leo thought dimly that that made sense. He was barely the size of this thing’s damn eyeball. Of course it didn’t care.

At least he got its attention. It whipped its head around to face him, hissing lowly and splitting open its jaws. Leo just barely had the time to think, ‘oh, shit,’ before a blast of icy cold seawater enveloped him.

Is this what getting sprayed with a pressure washer feels like? He wondered dimly as he was swept from his feet, his entire body going rigid with the cold. The tidal wave of ocean water sent him tumbling, his arms flailing for a moment as he struggled to right himself, to find the surface to swim to-- before he had a chance, however, he found himself sloshing up against the stone, his head spinning with the motion. He looked around dizzily, realizing after a moment that the blast of water that the Ikuchi had shot from its mouth had swept him down into the divot it had left in the ground from its tail, gravity coaxing the liquid into the lowest possible space, leaving Leo laid out on his back in a shallow pool of saltwater. He was still reeling, coughing and spitting weakly as he sat up, shaking the stars from his eyes. Oh, great. He was totally soaked now…

“Leo!” He heard Raph screaming from across the way, and his eyes jerked open, only to shrink back when he saw the Ikuchi looming over him like a dark shadow, its body pulled taunt like a spring, ready to strike.

Oop. That’s no good. Come on, mystic teleportation, don’t fail me now. We gotta move-- fast. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go-- Move!

He realized that he wasn’t dead a lot sooner than he realized that that had actually worked, stumbling slightly as he found his feet beneath him. He nearly fell forward, biting out a wry laugh as he flailed his arms to find his balance again. He glanced over at his gaping siblings, now just a few feet from him-- all five of them halfway across the ring from the Ikuchi, who still hadn’t realized that its prey had escaped from it. Oh shit! It actually worked! He actually teleported-- like-- when he wanted to! The way he wanted to!

Damn, maybe there was something to that meditation thing their dad was always touting after all!

“Leo! How did-- are you okay?!” Raph bit out wildly, rushing over to his side, and Leo couldn’t help himself from grinning.

“I think I might have a plan.”

---

“Too slow!” Mikey crowed, darting just out of reach of another walloping blow, continuously just one step ahead of the Ikuchi’s reach. He heard the yokai roar in response, and he grinned, sticking out his tongue-- touching the ground again just long enough to launch into another tumbling flip, rocketing out of the way. And, just as he was hoping, the yokai’s tail slammed down in the space where he had just been, leaving a dent of crumbled rock in its wake.

Perfect. Just like they planned it.

“Nice, Mikey!” He heard Raph yell from across the ring, sprinting along the outer edges, playing cover for him and Leo, along with April and Donnie. They were all fast, but he and Leo were the fastest-- and he was the dodgiest, and the best suited for pulling this off, goading the Ikuchi into striking, but keeping just out of its reach. Even now, his chest swelled up with a bit of pride at the thought.

His family was counting on him.

Another duck and dodge resulted in yet another pit in the surface of the ring, and better yet, Mikey dipped out of the way of a pump of seawater shot from the Ikuchi’s mouth. He felt the spray of water tickling his cheeks as he went, and he grinned, watching the water splash to the ground, rushing in to fill the unoccupied space, turning the pits into shallow pools.

“Alright! Keep it up!” Leo encouraged, just a step behind him, getting the Ikuchi’s attention with a well-aimed strike just so that he could dance out of the way of their attack, darting swiftly to the side. The Ikuchi chased him with a furious shriek, mist spraying through the air, but from the other side of the ring, Raph bodily threw himself into its massive side, throwing off its balance just enough to cause it to falter-- too slow to snatch Leo up.

“HEY! Pick on someone your own size!” Raph hollered, backing up as the massive eel turned on him instead, curling its lips back in a snarl and howling with fury.

“Raph, you’re nowhere near its size!” Donnie called, pulling a similar move on another section of the Ikuchi’s training body-- darting forward to jump on it, leaping up and over, purposefully landing hard on its spine as he went and then dashing away.

“Well, he’s the closest one!” April laughed, winding up her infamous softball pitch and letting a hunk of rock go shooting through the air, smacking into the side of the Ikuchi’s face. April gave a whoop of victory, grinning widely, only to stumble a bit when the Ikuchi immediately went streaking towards her, a furious hiss winding from its mouth as it went. “Ooh, snap--”

“Tag! You’re it!” Mikey laughed, taking advantage of the creature being a bit lower to the ground in order to bounce over top of it, landing on its head with a firm thud before he went spinning away, flipping off to the side and leaving the dazed creature to chase after him once more. Mikey thought to himself, this is actually working. This might actually work.

If they weren’t strong enough to do any damage, they just had to call on a greater force-- gravity.

“I’m pretty sure I can teleport them up high enough to knock them out, or at least daze ‘em long enough for us to nab ‘em. I just need someplace to land, and the Ikuchi’s already got all the ingredients we need! We just gotta get ‘em to do the work for us!” Leo had explained in a rush, not ten minutes earlier.

“Are you sure you can get that high?” April had questioned, her brows knit with worry.

“I can do it! Seriously! I’ve got this! I don’t even have to aim or anything. I just gotta go up! And I know I can take it with me if I’ve got a good grip. I’ve been practicing!”

“Leo, are you sure this is safe?” Raph had pressed. “Can’t you teleport yourself back down?”

“Okay, well, I might be getting the hang of this teleporting thing, but not… that much,” he admitted, holding up his hands with a nervous laugh. “Getting up is gonna be a… a task. But I think I can do it! Really. I just… I dunno if I’ll have enough juice to get back down. But that’s fine! We just need a safety net. Trust me. It’ll be just like the high dive, remember?”

Raph had hesitated, but he had nodded. “Alright. Okay. I trust you, Leo,”

“Perfect,” Leo had said, grinning wide and turning to grin at Mikey. “Okay, Angie. You’re gonna be the best at this, for sure, so we’ll follow your lead. Think you can razzmatazz this place?”

Could he razzmatazz? What kind of a question was that?

Mikey laughed as he twirled effortlessly just out of reach of yet another attack, adrenaline banging excitedly in his chest as he darted away. Right now, in this moment, he swore he could fly. Gravity couldn’t even touch him. Leo had a plan, and Mikey was gonna make it work. They were already halfway there--

A short yelp was wrenched from him when something caught his ankle.

---

Ice raked its way up Leo’s body when he watched his brother fall, tripping over an oil-slick rock, the uneven, rocky terrain yanking him down to earth for just a moment. And Leo knew that he would get back up-- Mikey was tough, he was a bouncer, he bounced back , always did, and he was quick, he would be pulling himself back up to his feet in seconds.

But the Ikuchi didn’t need more than seconds. Every muscle in its body coiled as it rounded on his baby brother, held tight as it prepared to strike, its lips twisted back to show off pointed fangs longer than his arm.

Fuck.

Guess we gotta move the timeline on this one up a smidge.

In the half a second he had left, Leo dove forward, digging his fingers beneath the yokai’s scales and holding on tight.

---

When Leo and the Ikuchi disappeared, crackling, ghostly blue light left in their wake, it took Donnie a moment to figure out where they went, even though he already knew the plan-- even though he already knew where they were heading.

He didn’t want to look up.

Still, he wrenched his head back, staring up in horror as the snake creature re-materialized hundreds of feet above the Nexus. And, presumably, his twin brother as well.

Calculations began.

No, no, no, no--

The pools weren’t done. They weren’t deep enough. And they were too high, way too high, even if they did have enough water to break Leo’s fall, he was still going to be injured, but they didn’t have enough water. There was hardly a foot or two worth of it in even the deepest pools.

It wasn’t-- it wasn’t enough.

“LEO!”

---

Leo had never been up so tall before.

No walls or windows separating him and the rest of the world. Just him, the Ikuchi, and the open air, way up above the Battle Nexus. His family looked tiny, way down beneath him.

He felt the Ikuchi thrash, roaring as it flailed in the air before it began its descent downward, flinging him away like an insect with a flick of its tail. He wished he had the presence of mind to react and correct his trajectory, or at least be annoyed, but the whole world felt fuzzy, like everything had been torn right out of him. Like he had left all his energy and will back down on his ground when he teleported, forgetting it way down below. His muscles ached and pulsed and he went tumbling through the air, flopping about like a ragdoll. He could feel his head spinning in the exact opposite direction of his body. He felt unconsciousness tapping at his shoulder.

You have to get back down, remember?-- he thought blearily to himself. But the blissful promise of sleep just kept on tapping and his vision blurred a bit near the edges.

He realized, distantly, that he had never fallen so far before.

All his organs, seemingly, didn’t get the memo that they were heading down to the ground now, because Leo swore that they were yanked up through his chest by gravity, his stomach ending up in his throat and his heart ending up at the top of his head as he fell.

---

His son-- his child was falling. He was falling. Panic gripped every part of Yoshi’s body, nearly throwing himself over the balcony for a second time as he watched his son’s body plummeting through the air, buffeted about by gravity and being thrown in wild somersaults.

“BLUE!” He wailed. His heart was in his throat. He had to-- but he would never get there in time!-- but that was his child. That was his son! Frantically, he whipped around to face the only other occupant of the Luxury Box, his eyes blown wide and his face pinched with horror. He wouldn’t be quick enough. He wouldn’t make it. But she--

“Gumo! Gumo, please!” He begged.

She shifted a bit. Her face twitched, ever so slightly, and her muscles bunched. But she didn’t quite move.

---

“Raph! Raph!”

Raph’s head immediately bobbed up at the call of his name, looking up from the elaborate city he and Donnie were building in the sandbox. Donnie was the head architect, and he was in charge of all the little people, so it was basically a utopia so far-- but the call of his baby brother easily dragged him from the game, looking over to see Mikey on the ground, pointing… And spotting Leo in the branches of a nearby tree. His eyes widened.

“Leo’s stuck!” Mikey cried, flapping his arms a bit. Raph was on his feet in a second, despite Donnie’s grumble of annoyance, rushing his way over to his two littlest brothers.

“What happened!? Leo! How the heck did you get up there!?” Raph demanded as he approached.

“I climbed!” Leo reported proudly from up above. The tree he was in wasn’t even a part of schoolyard-- the branches just overhung them, and Raph quickly came to the conclusion that Leo must have climbed the chain link fence surrounding the elementary school play area, clambering up into the branches of the tree from there and scaling up, now nearly five feet over Raph’s head.

“Why!?”

“Mikey said I couldn’t!” Leo defended.

“And now he can’t get back down!” Mikey reported, in true youngest-child fashion, pointing accusingly up at the other. Leo looked offended by the other’s claim, but didn’t make any moves to refute them, either, and Raph sighed deeply.

“Mikey, grab Donnie and go get Miss Farmer,” he instructed quickly, and Mikey gave a sharp little nod, happy to have a task to do, scampering off to go and collect Donnie and find the teacher. Raph focused on the problem at hand, frowning deeply and putting his hands on his hips.

“Are you sure you can’t climb down? Even a little bit?”

“Uh…” Leo seemed to look around, seeming thoughtful. “I dunno. I can try.”

“Well, try then!”

“I could go further up.”

“Do not go further up!”

“But it’d be easier!”

“Leo, that’s the opposite of solvin’ the problem! You gotta come down!”

“Okay! Okay, I’m trying. Hang on.”

Raph waited patiently as he heard his brother shuffle above him, the leaves ruffling in reply, a few stray buds and twigs occasionally raining down on him and making him splutter in quiet annoyance. It had seemed like Leo was making progress, slowly but surely picking his way downward, though Raph couldn’t see very well between all the branches. He thought, for a minute there, that Leo might be able to get back down on his own-- until he heard the telltale sound of a branch snapping, followed by a surprised yelp and scrabble.

“Leo?”

“Raph! I’m gonna fall!”

Raph huffed loudly, his hands on his hips.

“No you won’t.”

“Yes, I will!”

“Well if you didn’t wanna fall, you shouldn’t a’ climbed up in the first place!”

“RAPH!” Leo cried again, and there was a pinch of panic to his voice this time that made Raph sigh deeply, his annoyance giving way.

“Okay, well, then, jump down, and Raph’ll catch you.”

“What!?”

“You heard me!”

“You will not!”

“I will too!”

“That’s what you said last time! You’re just gonna let me fall!”

“That was different!” Raph defended, scowling. It had been funny that time!

“Nu-uh! It’s too tall, Raph!”

“Leo, I’ll for real catch you this time!” He insisted, but his brother didn’t respond. Raph sighed deeply, glancing over his shoulder. Donnie, Mikey, and the teacher were nowhere in sight so far. He scowled to himself, weighing the options in his head for a moment, hemming and hawwing. But…

He couldn’t just leave Leo up there.

“Okay, hang on! I’ll come get you!”

Raph wasn’t nearly as good of a climber as Leo was, but scaling the fence wasn’t terribly difficult, and it wasn’t much trouble at all for Raph to pull himself up into the branches, heading his way up the tree until he could catch sight of his brother, clinging to one of the tree’s many limbs, his arms hanging onto one branch and his feet awkwardly resting on another, sagging branch, a jagged break running through the middle of it.

And, okay, now that he was up here, he could… kind of understand Leo’s position. It’d be hard to get down from here, and jumping would probably be… unpleasant, given how many other tree branches were jutting through the path between Leo and the ground.

“Okay, hang on. Raph’s comin’,” Raph said, sticking his tongue out slightly as he tried to devise a plan. He kept close to the trunk of the tree-- he was heavier than Leo was, and he didn’t wanna break any more branches. Once he was above the other, he very slowly scooted his way out, wrapping his legs around the branch he was resting on and stretching out his hand.

“Here. Grab on, I’ll pull you up.”

“Raph, if you drop me, I’ll--”

“I’m not gonna drop you! Just grab on already!”

Leo whined, and he wiggled for a second, testing each movement before he committed to it, wiggling and readjusting his feet slightly to see how much he could get away with before the branch gave way below him.

Raph wrinkled up his nose, stretching his arm out even further.

Leo bunched down slightly before he jumped, letting go of the branch so he could grab onto Raph’s hand instead. Raph huffed, bending for just a moment, straining under the weight-- jeez, had Leo always been this heavy!? Before he heaved him upwards, hissing softly with the effort.

For just a second, he was worried that he really was gonna drop Leo. Then he’d never hear the end of it.

But he got him up. Leo grabbed onto the branch up above, scrambling up, and Raph immediately scooted backward, back to the relative safety of the tree trunk, careful not to put too much weight in one spot.

… And now they were both stuck in a tree.

“Thanks,” Leo said.

“I told you,” Raph replied.

“Now what?” Leo asked, and Raph sighed, leaning back against the bark of the tree, glancing up at the cove of leaves that surrounded them, the glow of the sun up above casting a gentle green hue over the two of them.

It was kind of nice being this high up, actually. It was peaceful.

“I dunno. I guess we wait.”

---

Raph had never turned away when his brothers needed him before.

He wasn’t about to start now.

He had no idea what he was gonna do. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t see any path forward, there was no ‘a-ha!’ moment or answer popping up in his brain; that had never been his thing, anyway. He had no idea how he was going to fix this, or if he even could.

None of that mattered. Not even a little bit. All he knew was that Leo was falling, and that he needed help. And if he had to move the ground itself out of the way to make sure he didn’t get hurt, then so fucking be it.

Every fiber of him buzzed with absolute resolve. No backing down. No running away. So long as he was still here on this earth, he knew, with every single piece of himself, that he was gonna be there to protect his family.

He would stand his ground.

He would stay.

A brilliant red glow came spiraling through reality.

And just as the Ikuchi came crashing to the ground with a howl, the entire stadium shaking with the impact, a hand that was not quite his own but belonged to him nonetheless, stitched together with vermillion light, reached out and plucked his little brother out of the air.

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