#cw: child injury

[septembriseur]

‘That’s how we met Juri, the 9-year-old girl with the horrific injuries.

‘After washing away the maggots, we positioned her on her right side and got to work. We cut away four pounds of dead flesh, washing her wounds as aggressively as we could. Then we bandaged her up and booked her for another debridement the next day.

‘“Wain baba?” (where’s daddy?) she asked upon waking, her voice barely audible.

‘He’ll come soon, we assured her.

‘“You’re lying,” she told us, calmly. “He must be dead.”

‘As it turns out, Juri’s father wasn’t dead. We found him waiting for her in the pediatric ward of the hospital. He was a loving and gentle man who spent all day every day scouring a land in famine for anything his precious daughter would agree to eat. He told us how Juri was maimed: The family evacuated from Khan Younis to Rafah, as Israel demanded. He and his wife left their seven children with their grandparents while they desperately searched for food and water. They came back to the house bombed and destroyed, their children all severely injured or killed.

‘…. To have even a chance at a full recovery, Juri will need dozens more hours under the knife and days in a specialized pediatric ICU, which no longer exists in Gaza.

‘Still, amid all this horror, there were moments of light. We took great joy seeing Juri’s personality resurface once her sepsis resolved. Instead of meekly calling for “baba” and screaming in pain when touched, she now acted like a sharp 9-year-old girl who knew she had her dad in her pocket. From then on, she refused to be sedated unless he promised her honey melon and phone calls with her siblings afterwards, famine and disrupted cellular services be damned!

‘…As we handed [another child’s] care off to a team of Canadian orthopedic surgeons, she begged her “American doctors” not to abandon her. We sedated her with ketamine to perform one last dressing change, and then snuck away before she fully regained consciousness, knowing we had no explanation for why she must suffer alone — while we were free to return to our lives and families.

‘We left on a Monday, just after sunrise. We were both consumed with guilt; we felt like we had no right to exit Gaza, that by leaving — and not staying permanently — we were deeply complicit in this mass murder.’

[paxdracona]

My nephew (3.5 years old) just tripped spectacularly and ended up needing stitches for the resulting cut in his head. He's fine, already wanting to go bowling so that's a relief.

His mom and dad (my sis and her husband) were talking us via the group chat, keeping us up to date and illustrated perfectly the differences in their descriptive capabilities:

Sis: he needed 2 stitches and 4 people to keep him still enough

Husband, typing at the same time: it was quick and he was very brave

:')

[bigswordenergy]

URGENT HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF MY CHILD

Dear humanity,

Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment.

I'm Amal from Gaza. 🍉

Here’s my story, and I’m reaching out with a hopeful heart 💔✨, hoping someone will feel what my family and I are going through.

My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺 .

Please Donate now:👇👇 👇

https://gofund.me/305028dd

Thank you for your compassion and kindness

22

.

[sayruq]

Boost please and donate if you can

[geekcentre]

Demon

(Click for better quality)

[brainman1987]

What if… Insne Prince Danny but about a quadrillions years younger and also under care of Jason ?

Also clockwork as a distant but loving grandparent and the usual Observant ignorance (if Pariah ever found out that the observants 1) put Danny NOT in his room in the palace and 2) put him into a random mostly abandoned observatory with no one to look after him for years he would murder all of them no questions asked. Just a btw. Hehe :)

[cupophrogs]

i want to grab ur ocs under their arms and make them dance like cat owners do with their cats

Ah! Thank you so much! Speaking of arms-

Poppet has none! They don't have any lips either...

You know how a tiger will gnaw off it's own leg to escape a trap? Well, the Minis certainly got a feast out of it! After taking a small vat of acid to the face and resisting the Prototype, Poppet was strung up with the rest of the Smiling Critters and left to the mercy of the Minis. So, despite the agony and the blood loss, Poppet chewed through sleeves and sinew until they were free. They've mostly been hiding in their box ever since.

Close ups!

Fun Fact: Poppet's box is hooked up to the Gas Production Zone, so it functions like a stasis chamber. Whenever Poppet is inside, the lid locks, and Poppet basically goes into hibernation. It's the only reason they haven't starved, and why the box must be wound to open! Turning the crank shuts off the gas so it doesn't leak when the box is opened. There is an internal mechanism so Poppet can get out without help, but it takes a break in the gas for them to be awake enough to pull it.

[p1nkc4lyps0]

Damn these twinks built completely identical huh, wonder what that’s about

[chronicallydragons]

being a fantasy author with an veterinary science background is sometimes really awesome, but sometimes you're forced to consider super cursed concepts like: can dragons drop their tails like some other reptile species?

I decided no because they're such large creatures with such thick tails that the blood supply to the tail would be too massive and dropping the tail would lead to catastrophic blood loss. There ARE some larger lizards that can drop their tails under extreme circumstances, but it’s super risky and dangerous

[irequirealobotomy]

tw: blood, electrical weapons, injury, child injury, transphobia (just one intentional misgender), murder, attempted murder

Bo’s heart pounded as he limped away from Bishop. As if a show of power, the human didn’t run. He knew his prey couldn’t escape. The voice that echoed from the man wasn’t natural. ”Thats enough, hybrid,” He snapped, and Bo flinched, the hand pressed to his bleeding leg tremor harder with each passing moment. “I should end you right here. Like I ended that stupid human before you before she cheated!” His voice raised, and the crackle from his weapon increased until it filled the room.

-Just Around The Corner: Little Hybrid

——————

Well, here we go, finally designed and drew Bishop. Heavily based on his 2003 design because I don’t like him enough to work on him. /hj

No, this fic won’t be out for a looooong time. But I wanted to draw something based off of it!

Reference is by @adorkastock, below is the pic and also the sketch :)

[tangledinink]

Chapter Fourteen of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up! Everyone has a great time and continues to experience emotions and situations. Raphael has an anxiety attack in a Chuck E. Cheese. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

When Donnie next woke up, they realized quickly that they were somewhere cold and dark, and, upon shifting slightly, also realized that they were incredibly sore.

“Ow,” he muttered dryly, and immediately, four (almost, mostly, kind of) familiar faces were moving into his field of vision.

“Guys, he’s awake!” Mikey gasped.

“Oh, thank god,” Raph sighed.

“How you feeling, Dee?” April prodded gently, her brows pinched together with worry.

“Nasty,” he mumbled, beginning to sit up. “But it’s not that bad. Just sore.” It was worse with the movement, however, and he winced slightly. Ugh, whatever position he had been sleeping in had not helped. He realized vaguely that he was no longer wearing his hoodie or his backpack, and he wondered if his family had removed it or if it had been taken from him. 

“Whoa, hey, slow down, dude,” Leo scolded. ���I’m, like, 80% sure you’ve got a concussion or something, and your back looks gross, so chill.”

“Oh, good, Leo isn’t falling anymore,” Donnie deadpanned, leaning back slightly and rolling his shoulders a bit. Ow. He kept doing it anyway. “How long was I out? What the hell happened? And where are we?”

“Not that long. You’ve kinda been in-and-out for the past, like… I dunno. Half hour,” Leo explained.

“Please don’t pass out again!” Mikey added.

“But, uhhh, I think we’re in a literal dungeon?” Leo added, looking around thoughtfully.

“We’ve been jailed? Oh joy,” Donnie sighed. “This is no fair. If I’m going to be thrown in prison, it should be for my scientific advancements…”

“Donnie, that’s not something you’re supposed to hope for--” Raph hissed.

“Did we get our asses kicked?”

“Okay, well, look at the bright side,” Leo said instead of answering. “You gave, like, at least three of the guys on the other side concussions, too! And they probably look just as fucked up as you do right now!”

A loss, then.

“Let me see.”

“See what? Your back?” April raised a brow. “I dunno if that’s a good--”

“It’s my back,” Donnie defended. “Let me see.”

April sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine. Hang on, I’ll take a picture…”

Donnie shifted a bit to allow room for her to photograph, frowning to himself. He was quietly surprised that their phones hadn’t been confiscated when they got thrown in here, but he was sort of willing to bet that they wouldn’t have any service down here, wherever they were. He’d have to check later.

“Okay, here. See?”

He did see.

He did not like it. 

There were no lacerations or mangled bones or anything-- the injury really wasn’t that bad, all things considered, just horrendously bruised. That wasn’t really what bothered him. If someone showed him a picture of his own shoulders looking like that, all discolored and black and blue, it really wouldn’t be an issue. But they weren’t shoulders. Instead there was this plane of a vaguely leathery, flesh-like surface, gently bumped and freckled olive green-- not quite skin, but not exactly carapace like his brothers now had, either, just something in between, all dotted with little markings. His spine was clearly outlined, and, in this moment, darkened and mottled with bruising.

“Right. Thank you,” he said quickly, looking to the side and scowling. April sighed a bit, almost visibly resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so,’ and pocketed her phone again, settling back down beside him.

“You gotta be more careful, Don! You coulda been seriously hurt!” Raph pressed.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “In the future, I’ll simply allow enemies to curbstomp our little brother! Silly me!”

“I would have been fine! You don’t have to protect me!” Mikey immediately protested.

“Look, hermano, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but apparently, literally all the rest of us have straight-up built-in body armor,” Leonardo said with an accusing gesture. “You don’t!”

Donnie bristled a bit, hunching his shoulders. Right. Of course.

Of course it would work this way.

Turtles. They were, apparently, literal fucking turtles, of all goddamn things, and so of course he would be the only one who didn’t have the signature feature that turtles usually had in the form of a hard shell. Of course he would be different and vulnerable. Why was he surprised? When didn’t things work out this way? Story of his goddamn life!

And it made sense, too! Wasn’t he the only one out of all of them who had ever been, like, actually injured? He had watched Mikey fall down three flights of cement stairs one time and pop up at the bottom with a thumbs up. Raph was basically an immovable object. And how many times had Leo wiped out on his skateboard with no consequences? Or, perhaps more pointedly-- how many times had Leo literally kicked his ass in martial arts tournaments? Admittedly, Donnie was still, generally speaking, hardier than the average high-schooler, but…

He was still the only one in the family to have ever broken a bone. The one who fell ill the most frequently. He was the only one who had ever cried and thrown up because the hems of his pants got wet and nasty, for god’s sake--

He vaguely remembered that Draxum guy from earlier, their so-called creator, claiming that they were experiments. He wondered what exactly his intention was, and if he would meet expectations if evaluated or if he would objectively be classed as a failure. Clearly there was a gap between himself and his siblings.

“Look, it’s fine, Don. We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Raph said, resting a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Just… let us take the heavy hits, okay? That’s all.” 

“Fine,” Donnie muttered.

---

Donatello whined softly, burrowing his way further into his Dad’s arms, hanging onto fistfuls of his shirt. Yoshi sighed, idly running his hand up and down the child’s spine. 

“I know, Purple,” he hummed, adjusting his grip on the other slightly, rearranging the blankets they were all but nested in. “The medicine will start working soon.”

The child sniffled miserably, peeking up just enough to give their father a rueful look. “You lied,” he accused, and Yoshi couldn’t resist a tiny laugh at the amount of rage his six-year-old could manage to put into his eyes. 

“When did I lie?”

“You said that if I took the medicine I would feel better. And it was disgusting. And I still feel bad,” he whimpered petulantly, burying his face into his dad’s shirt once more, and Yoshi chuckled softly, stroking his shoulders.

“That was ten minutes ago, Purple. It takes a little bit longer than that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’m gonna invent better medicine that works right away.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Purple always got this way whenever he managed to pick up any sort of bug from their various classes or after-school activities. Given how many children he had, how busy they were, and the fact that he, too, worked with a bunch of germy kids, they were, quite frankly, blessed with how rarely they were brought to their knees by some virus or another. Yoshi had always attributed this to the whole ‘mutant super soldier’ thing, and considered himself lucky that he hardly ever had to deal with nastier things like strep throat or bronchitis. Thank god. He didn’t think his heart could take it, quite frankly. But there was still the occasional cold, flu, or stomach bug, and almost invariably, it was either himself or Donatello who ended up bringing it home when they did.

And every time, Purple would be so damn pathetic about it.

Yoshi did feel bad for him, really, each and every time, because he knew that his kid didn’t feel well and wasn’t able to do all the things he usually did, and that was distressing to him, but oh my lord, was he dramatic. He’d always whimper and whine and carry on like he was dying, even if he just had a cough and a small fever, clinging to his dad and refusing to walk anywhere. Now, snotty, hacking children were not exactly Yoshi’s favorite things to snuggle up with, but he would admit that, as he so rarely received any physical affection from his purplest child on a day-to-day basis, it was a little nice to have him so clingy now. Especially given that when he was ill, Donnie was much more inclined to lay around and watch Lou Jitsu movies rather than science and math documentaries, or, even worse, partake in activities such as attempting to rewire the house, as he was apt to do. This was by far Yoshi’s preference. And though he did wish Donnie could enjoy it properly, he wouldn’t sit here and pretend like he didn’t enjoy spending the day curled up in his bed with his child in his lap watching movies together (now that he had been assured by their pediatrician that it was just a bug…) Even if he was sure he was going to get sick, too. 

It should be noted however, that even in his feverish, clingy state, Donnie was still quite particular about exactly what touch was and was not okay, which was evidenced by him literally hissing at his twin brother when he snuck into the room and attempted to join the pair on the bed.

“Use your words, Purple One,” Yoshi hummed, even as he redirected Leonardo to the foot of his bed, giving the two children a wide berth. Donnie only grumbled in response, but given the fact that he was sick, Yoshi let it slide this time. He couldn’t help but always feeling so… sorry for Donnie like this. It always scared him a bit when he got sick, even once he was sure it was only something minor. Just another reason he relished being able to bundle him up and hold him close. “I don’t think Purple wants to be touched by anyone else right now, Blue.”

“When’s he gonna be done being sick?” Leo sighed loudly, flopping down over his father’s legs. “I’m bored. Mikey and Raph don’t play right.” 

“Since when? You love playing with Mikey and Raph.”

“Yeah, but I wanna play Hot Wheelz and Donnie is the best at that game!” He complained. “Mikey and Raph are playing ‘Ninja Horse Tea Party Orphanage’ and I don’t wanna play that!”

That did sound like the type of game those two would play.

“If you give him a day or two, I’m sure he will be ready to play Hot Wheelz then.” 

“But that’s so LONNGGG!” Leo groaned loudly, sulking. “Can’t you make him better faster?”

“No, Donatello has not invented the medicine that works right away yet. It’s on his to-do list,” Yoshi explained calmly, squeezing the purple child just the tiniest bit. 

“Can I invent it, then?”

“I’m sure you could try,” Yoshi said with a shrug. 

“I want him to get better. And not be sick,” Leo explained, just in case it wasn’t clear.

“That’s very nice, Blue.”

“I bet I could find out a way to fix him.”

“Oh? Are you going to be a doctor, then?”

Leo wrinkled his brow, scrunching up his mouth and considering this for a moment before he shook his head. “No. I’m gonna be an actor. Or a ninja. Or a magician. One of those.”

“Ah. Well, you know what would probably be helpful right now?”

“What?” Leo immediately questioned, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“If you got your brothers to help you draw some get-well cards for Purple. I bet Mikey would be excited to help you if you asked.”

Leo latched onto the new ‘task’ right away, over the moon to do something to be helpful for his brothers, like he always was. It was one of the easiest ways to distract him. “Okay!” He replied, jumping back down off the bed, scampering off to go and find his remaining siblings.

He was almost gone, in fact, when Yoshi sneezed.

Leo stopped short, whipping back around and gasping loudly, pointing an accusing finger.

“YOU SNEEZED!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“YOU DID! I HEARD YOU!” He shrieked, taking off down the hall. “Guys! GUYS! Dad sneezed! I heard him!”

“Dad sneezed!?”

“Code Green! This is a CODE GREEN!”

Yoshi sighed softly, his head flopping back down against the pillow. Leo came skidding back into the room a moment later, his eyes wide.

“DAD! Can we go to April’s house!?”

“What?” He scoffed. “No! April and her parents are not even home!”

“Yeah but we gotta QUARANTINE!”

“It was just one sneeze--”

“LEO! Leo, you gotta disinfect! I found Donnie’s hand sanitizer!”

“Hey,” Donnie picked up his head to whine.

This always happened.

“Donnie, you have to get better quick so you can take field notes! We need your research, okay!? You’re the only one who can spell ‘pathology!!!’”

Donnie mumbled in reply, laying his head back down, but gave a tiny thumb’s up before Leo went sprinting back out the room to re-join his healthy (for now) brothers. His other three boys never brought home sickness. But they always caught it when it came from him.

Well, at least they were not bored anymore.

---

April was having a bit of trouble keeping track of time now that they were in prison. 

She didn’t think they had actually been here that long, though she wasn’t exactly sure. She had long ago shut off her phone to conserve battery once they realized that they may be a while. Maybe 24 hours?... It was just that at first, when they still weren’t sure if Donnie was going to be okay or not, everything seemed to happen so fast. And now that they were all just cooped up here with nothing to do… everything happened so slow.

They had already formulated and executed multiple escape plans now, to no avail. They had attempted to teleport to freedom with the help of the yellow yokai, who April had recently begun referring to as “Mayhem,” but were sorely disappointed to find that the prison was teleport-proof. Leo had tried unsuccessfully to talk their way out. Raph made an effort to physically break them out, attempting to smash the bars that held them, but this too resulted in failure.

The only thing that really clued her into the passage of time was her and her brothers’ internal clocks. Donnie had gone down first, though his head injury may have had something to do with that. Mikey had followed shortly after, curling up with Raph’s flannel tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow, and then the oldest brother, too, eventually succumbed to sleep, until she and Leo were all that remained.

“Okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice low, careful not to wake anyone else up. “I’ll admit it. You were right.”

Leo hummed softly in response, and neither of them took their eyes off of Mikey, suspended peacefully in the air, just a few inches off the ground, a soft orange glow coming off of him in waves as he slumbered.

“It’s a little weird to watch,” she sighed, tilting her head slightly to the side. “Sort of spooky.”

“At least he’s getting some rest,” Leo mumbled, resting his head in a cradle of his arms and knees, all curled in on himself.

“Yeah,” April agreed, smiling a tiny bit. “We should probably try that too, huh?” She leaned over, just barely nudging Leo’s shoulder with her own.

He flinched, a visible shiver running up his spine as he immediately stiffened, pulling sharply away from the other. April frowned.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Leo muttered, drawing his arms even tighter around himself.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Because I swear to god, if you got hurt and didn’t tell anyone--”

“April, I’m fine!” He bit out, a bit sharper this time, hunching his shoulders. “I’m not hurt, okay? I just… I’m not in the mood to be touched right now.”

April’s brows pinched together.

“Leo…”

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay again,” he hissed.

“Alright.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay.”

“Obviously, I’m not!”

“That’s okay.”

“Everything is so fucked up,” he hissed, digging his nails into his arms, drawing his head down to his chest. “Jesus christ. This-- fuck. And I got us all stuck in here!”

“Leo, you didn’t get us stuck in here. It’s not your fault.”

“I did!” He insisted, and April could see a few tears lining his eyes before he squeezed them shut. “This was my stupid plan. And Donnie-- Donnie almost got really hurt, and Mikey could’ve gotten hurt, and-- and I couldn’t help at all. I couldn’t help him at all when he was panicking. I can always help! I’m supposed to be able to help him when he’s like that! And I-- I can’t even help my own brother because I look like a fucking freak now!”

“Leo, you’re not a freak. It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not!” He snapped, bristling. “It’s not going to be okay. Stop saying it’ll be okay. How is any of this okay!?”

April bit the insides of her cheek. She didn’t have a good answer.

“I hate this,” he hissed. “Everything feels fucking awful. I can’t walk right, I keep falling, everything feels swollen and clunky and I-- I miss my face. I miss my body. And it’s just gone. I didn’t even like my body to begin with!” He laughed ruefully, struggling to keep his voice quiet. “I didn’t even like what I had, and-- fuck, April, I was so fucking excited. I was so fucking excited to change it. I’ve been waiting since I was fucking five to change it. I didn’t even know what I wanted to change then! I just-- fuck. Dammit. We had-- we had an appointment--”

He paused just long enough to draw in a heaving, shuddering breath that shook his entire frame.

“God. I just. I thought-- I thought I was used to this. I thought! I thought that I knew what it was like, to be quote-unquote trapped in the wrong body or whatever the hell, and I thought-- and it sucked and now this is just. This is just a million times worse, April. And it’s still wrong. Now it’s just more wrong!” He hiccuped weakly. “We were gonna fix it. We were finally gonna start fixing it, like, for real fixing it. We had an appointment. And. And Dad was g-gonna take me, and now it’s-- it’s just so much worse. Everything is so fucking bad now.”

“I know,” she whispered. “... Maybe you still can. You guys could still change back! I mean,” she glanced down at the silver bracelet still circling Leo’s wrist. “... We don’t know for sure that they’re broken. Maybe you just have to… to turn them back on…”

Leo bit back a sob.

“But now I know it’s not real.”

April was almost relieved when Leo fell into her side, hiding his face against her to cry, because she wanted so, so desperately to grab him and hug him and hold him tight, but he had said he didn’t want to be touched. But now that he was curled up against her, she wrapped her arms around him, and they sat quietly for a while like that. 

It took a while, but eventually the sobs died out, and Leo just laid with his head in her lap, all wrung-out and tired. 

“I meant it, you know,” she whispered. Leo didn’t reply, but he glanced up at her.

“I don’t care if you guys are freaks or mutants or whatever,” she continued. “That doesn’t matter to me. You were already sort of freaks when I met you, anyway. You’re my brothers, alright? No matter what. Even if things change. I’m not going anywhere.”

Leo sniffled a bit, staring at her for a bit longer before his gaze fell back down, staring off into the middle distance, looking at nothing in particular except for the pale orange light that lit up the room.

“Do you think he’s dreaming?” Leo finally spoke again, his voice scratchy and raw as he watched his baby brother sleep.

“Probably,” April said, leaning her head back to rest against the wall. 

---

“Daddy! Daddy!”

His father looked up from the dishes he had been washing, turning off the faucet to instead greet his youngest as he came excitedly racing into the house.

“Ah! Hello, my son. How is skateboard practice going?”

“Good!” Mikey chirped, excitedly holding up one leg so that he could proudly show his father his bloody, scraped knees. “Look! I did a kickflip.”

Mikey watched as bright red blood dripped down his younger self’s leg, and he thought to himself,

“So you did,” Dad said, sighing softly. “Go sit at the table. I will get the first aid kit.”

How strange.

“I want the orange band-aids! With the stars!” He yelled from his seat in a pulled-out kitchen chair, leaning over to call out his demands down the hall.

This was one of his dreams. Mikey was sure of it. Well, not a dream, exactly. A memory. Both. A memory inside of a dream. 

“Ah, yes, of course. Orange for Orange,” Dad assured, returning to the kitchen with first-aid kit in tow.

But this one was different from the rest.

“That’s my life color!” Mikey said happily, settling in the chair, sitting properly so his dad could clean and bandage his wounds.

The perspective had changed.

He wasn’t up above anymore, watching his father and his memory down below.

He was right here. He was standing right here on the same level-- right next to his dad, watching him tend to his younger self. No more than a few inches away from him.

He could almost touch him.

He reached out to try.

“Dad…?”

Mikey woke up with a gasp, falling heavily onto the floor and immediately sitting stark upright, scrambling a bit and looking around wildly. Donnie and Raph were asleep, but he quickly spotted April and Leo huddled together in the corner, both seeming slightly startled by his sudden trip back to the waking world.

Thank god someone else was still up.

“Guys!” He bit out, near breathless. “Dad is here! I can feel it! He’s really close by and-- and I think he might be hurt.”

---

Yoshi was getting very tired of the taste of blood.

There was a time, back when he was young, within his first year in the Nexus, when he could actually find joy in it. There was a time when he would face down unbeatable odds and come out the other side victorious, and would feel pride at what he accomplished, and not worry about those on the other end of the equation. There were times, in fact, when he would beat other competitors to unconsciousness just so that he could turn around and lounge in the luxury box, above it all, with his girlfriend-not-girlfriend in his lap. Just so that she would be pleased with him. Just because he wanted her to be happy. More specifically, happy with him.

He was still tempted, even now, now that he had gotten tired of the taste. Tempted to want her to be happy. It was so much easier when she was happy. When she was upset, he would always be miserable, but when she was happy things had always been so good.

It would be so easy to sit here and pretend like he didn’t feel that way anymore; to simply wave a hand and call his younger self a fool and distance himself from him, as if he were someone else entirely. But it wouldn’t be true. No matter how much he was loath to admit it at times, that young man was still him, and every action and stupid decision he had ever made was his to hold and wear on his chest.

He didn’t like the way blood tasted anymore. He had gotten tired of the taste years and years ago, way before he had returned to the Battle Nexus, before he had even become a father, back when he couldn’t even begin to imagine his path leading in the direction it had, before he could even picture himself raising children--

(Though, god, hadn’t there been a time where he thought, ‘but if she really wanted them, if it was with her…?’)

But he still couldn’t so definitively say that he didn’t like her, and that was what really upset him. Here he was, slumped against a wall in an empty locker room, not completely convinced that he wasn’t bleeding out given the increasingly unsettling blotch of color beneath his skin climbing steadily up his abdomen and the tell-tale lightheadedness, and he still wasn’t sure. He would kill to be sure either way, which was almost funny, given how many times he had killed for her. But to this day he didn’t think he’d actually be able to decide when it came down to it.

He didn’t want to be here. He wanted, desperately, to leave. He had wanted so desperately to leave for years the last time he had been stuck here. He had tried to escape so many times-- but then again, there had been so many opportunities to run that he hadn’t taken… 

He missed his children. It wasn’t a matter of choosing between them. If it were a contest, he would choose his kids every single time, and this he knew for certain. That was the only reason he was here to begin with, after all.

But god. The emotions were all so much easier when they were apart. When he wasn’t around her, it was easy to remember all the reasons why they didn’t work, to remember all the ways she had hurt him and how awful things had been-- to pretend that nothing lingered between them, that he didn’t care about her anymore despite all his best efforts. But when they were face-to-face again?...

He hissed softly, letting his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk. Everything felt fuzzier than he would like it to. Colder, too.

Jesus.

He had really been in love with her.

“To the left a little.”

“Like this?”

“Mmmm… no. Now that’s too far. Move it just a smidge back?… No, that’s a skoosh, I said a smidge-- ooh! Ooh, yes, perfect! Just like that, Muffin!”

“Okay, alright. Just like this. Can you pass me the nails, Bug?”

It had taken them hours to get all their things moved in, even with the movers, and to re-arrange everything that allowed space for both of their extensive wardrobes and shoe collections. Divvying up space in the bathroom alone had been a nightmare, despite the sheer size of it, and they had had to make a detour to drive to the nearest department store and invest in a storage cabinet that could house all their hair care products. And Yoshi had been so confident that he was completely capable of putting together their new bed frame by himself…

“Okay. It says we need part 3-E… It has… The little spinny part at the top, and, ah, the spiral bit…”

“I don’t see it.”

“Well, it has to be somewhere.”

“Cuddlekins, hon, didn’t we use that part earlier? To screw the two corners together?”

“What? No, that was part M. With the cross-y bit at the top.”

“But isn’t this one part M? See. Look. It’s the same as the picture here, isn’t it?”

“Shit…”

It had taken a bit longer than he had originally anticipated. But it had, eventually, gotten done, despite the blood, sweat, and tears that it had cost them, and was now hosting their new, California king-size mattress, an absurd number of blankets and sheets, and many, many throw pillows. The kitchen had been unpacked already, (the easiest job of the entire move, given that neither of them cooked,) the TV hooked up in the living room, and all the furniture arranged just so…

And thus they had embarked on the last leg of their journey. And the one, Yoshi was well aware, that his girlfriend was the most particular about.

Decorating. Or, as she might say, interior design.

All he had needed to be happy was a few of his favorite movie posters framed and mounted on the wall, and she was perfectly willing to comply, even adding a few of her own selections to the collection in the living room they now shared. After that, she had free reign-- and reign she did indeed do. Of course, they could have easily hired people to do all this for them, but it just wasn’t quite the same as handling it on their own like this. Maybe she wanted the control. Maybe he wanted the experience. But either way, here they were… and they had been at this for a while now.

“Alright,” Yoshi sighed, taking a step back into her waiting arms so that they could examine his handiwork together. “What do you think? Good?”

She hummed happily, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of his jaw. “You didn’t even do it crooked this time!” She teased. He snorted softly in response.

“Sassy,” he mumbled, even though he kissed her forehead in return.

“It’s perfect, Noodles. Doesn’t it just ribbon up the whole room together so handily?”

He laughed, giving a shrug. “Something like that.”

“It matches the couch throw!” She insisted.

“I still cannot believe you insist on keeping that thing.”

“I adore it! It was a gift from you!” She protested.

“It is ugly!” He laughed. “I don’t know why I thought it would be a good gift. I just wanted to get you something and it was the best thing I could find.”

“It’s not ugly! It’s precious,” she insisted, as if lovingly defending a child, slipping out from his arm so she could stroke it affectionately, smoothing it out over the couch and straightening its corners. “I love it, cuddlekins, really, it just has this certain… crinkum-crankum to it, you know?” She said with a fond sigh, glancing back over at the other. “Besides, you got it for me. It always reminds me of my handsome cuddlemuffin whenever I see it.” 

He chuckled, holding out an arm with an inviting gesture. She agreeably returned to his side, fitting easily under his arm, looping her own around his waist in turn and resting a hand on his hip. “If you say so,” he hummed, leaning his head against hers. “I do enjoy the painting. I like surrealism… It’s a bit like, uh, René Magritte, don’t you think?”

“If you say so,” she echoed, shooting him an almost mischievous grin, and he scoffed in response, still smiling.

“Okay. What is next? Anything you need, my darling lovebug, and I will handle it for you!” He declared boldly, pulling away in order to strike a dramatic pose, knowing it would elicit a snort of laughter in response. “I have at long last mastered the ancient art of hanging pictures on walls! Just say the word!”

She snorted softly, plucking the hammer from his hands, placing it to the side.

“Noodles, that was the last one.”

He blinked in surprise.

“The last one?”

“Yes. That was all.’

“Then… we are all done moving?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“We are moved in?”

“We are,” she confirmed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, letting her body relax as she leaned into him-- trusting him to keep her steady and hold her up against him. He did.

“Then…” He paused a moment before a wide smile slowly, surely stretched itself across his face, his hands moving to rest on her waist. “This is officially our apartment.”

“Officially.” 

He grinned, the two of them swaying back and forth in the middle of the living room of their new penthouse apartment, rocking to the rhythm of nothing but the distant sound of the city as a backdrop. Their feet shuffled against the carpeted floor, echoing the motion of each other. He spent a bit of time just looking at her, memorizing how she looked in this moment and what joy looked like on her face and reminding himself that this person belonged to him, and he belonged to her, and now both of them belonged to this apartment, together, before he leaned in to close the close the gap between them. He could feel her smile against his lips.

Right now, Yoshi could not think of a single thing that he would want to change about his life. If things could stay exactly like this forever, then he would surely have everything he could ever need. For the first time ever, he thought, this is something I built for myself. He thought, this is something I choose. He thought that, for the first time ever, that he had finally found his person and his place in the universe. What more could he ask for than this, really? What more could he ask for than to be loved with no strings attached, with no expectations or traditions or sacrifice or ‘destiny’ tied to it?

This was perfect. Just the way it was. 

The moths in the painting he had hung for her stood a silent vigil over their celebration from their new perch.

---

Yoshi’s vision was fuzzy when he opened his eyes, so he closed them and tried again, repeating the process until the world came into shape around him. His body was sore, but, surprisingly, less sore than it had been lately. A quick glance around told him that he was in the Battle Nexus’s medical ward. He had been here many times in the past, though this was his first visit on his most recent tour. It was an odd place, equal parts necessary and ironically useless given the line of work of its clientele. Sparsely stocked and staffed, yet equipped for the most dire of emergencies all at once. 

He supposed he must have passed out, then. 

He winced a bit, looking to the left, catching sight of a Nexus Nurse, already busy with some other poor soul who had found themselves down here. A glance to the right, however, surprised him, and Big Mama looked up at the movement, immediately catching his eye and making her way to his bedside.

“Oh, Muffin!” She tsked sympathetically, a hand reaching out to cup his face. “Are you alright?”

His heart absolutely swelled. Quite frankly, his head was still spinning, all stuffed full of cotton, and he didn’t have the presence of mind required to feel disgusted with himself for how excited he was that she was here. How fucking thrilled he was to have her attention-- to have her eyes on him, let alone her skin. He forced a very weak laugh, waving her off her concerns. 

“I am fine!” He mumbled with a shaky grin, his voice slurring slightly as he tried to get his tongue to move properly in his mouth. “A little internal bleeding never hurt anyone…!”

And she smiled, actually smiled at him, patting his cheek gently. “Oh, of course you are. That’s my handsome, fearless warrior,” she cooed. Yoshi chuckled very softly.

She had always done this. Laughed at his stupid jokes, raved over even his dumbest of movies, and showered him endlessly in praise. And, admittedly, he had always loved it. He had always soaked up the attention. 

That was what scared him the most, really. The thought that, maybe, that was all this ever really was at the root of it all-- just him wanting someone to pay attention to him and give him compliments. Maybe that’s why things were like this; because of his own selfishness poisoning something good. Because he was too broken and greedy for anything else. Maybe moments like these were the most he could ever hope for, realistically, and he just had to accept that.

Her hand left, and he heard her move away. Pathetically enough, it broke his heart. He was dimly aware of her hailing down one of the nurses out of the corners of his vision. 

“Make sure he’s well enough to perform in tonight’s line-up, understand? I want him in tip-top shape as soon as possible. No jiggery-pokery or bafflegab or anything else. And fetch me if anything else happens with him, won’t you?...”

He sighed, letting his eyes slide shut again.

---

“Okay, Red, listen to me very closely, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I will be gone for three hours. Okay? Three hours. Do you know how long that is?”

“Uhm…”

“That is the whole Scooby Doo video tape played twice.”

Raph nodded a bit, his eyes wide. Right. Dad would be gone for two Scooby-Doo’s.

“I’m going to go get some more food and things for you and your brothers, and then I will come back.”

Raph blinked widely up at his dad. “More tuna?”

“Yes, I am going to try to find more tuna cans for you,” his dad assured. “But listen. Okay? This is very important. I need you to watch your little brothers while I am gone. Okay?”

Raph glanced back over at his three younger brothers, who were all still asleep in their respective boxes. He was the only one who had been rudely awakened by their father, much earlier than they would usually arise on their own, but he had been gifted a peppermint candy for his troubles, so he couldn’t be too upset about it. 

“If you’re quiet, they should sleep until I get back. But if they wake up, I left breakfast out for you all. Right over there where we usually eat. Remember how I’ve shown you how to help feed Orange?”

Raph nodded. He’d fed Mikey lots of times before, repeatedly begging his father to let him hold his littlest brother in his lap and give him his breakfast. He knew how.

“And make sure Purple does not eat all of Blue’s food.”

Raph frowned.

“But… Donnie’ll bite me…”

He heard his father sigh, very softly, under his breath.

“I have told him not to bite today, okay? But Blue needs to eat, too. And besides, you are very tough and brave, aren’t you, Raph?” He hummed, smiling a tiny bit, leaning over just enough to rub his son’s scaled head. Raph beamed at the praise, nodding excitedly. Tough and brave? Of course he was! He wasn’t afraid of Donnie! Even if he did bite really hard.

“Good boy,” he said. “The Scooby Doo tape is already in the TV. Purple will help you rewind it and play it again when it’s over, okay? So you boys can watch while I am gone.”

“Okay.”

“But you have to make sure none of your brothers wander off, okay? You have to stay right here in this tunnel the entire time I’m gone. Understood? No exploring. You must be sure to watch Mikey.”

“Okay.”

“Red?”

“I’ll watch, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” he said again. “And if I don’t come back before the timer starts beeping--” he gestured to the kitchen timer that lived by his bed. Raph wasn’t that great with numbers yet, but he recognized the “eight” at the front. “Then bring your brothers and come find me, okay? But not before the timer goes off. Understand? Only if you hear the timer beeping. Do you understand, Raph?”

“Yeah.”

“Repeat it back to me, please.”

“Uhm…” He chewed on his fingers, looking to the side and shuffling his feet a bit. “Uhm, if the time… beeps. I’ll come find you…”

“By yourself, or with your brothers?”

“With my brothers...”

“But not before the timer, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Their father sighed very deeply, leaning over and kissing his forehead. “I will be back soon, my son. Take good care of your brothers.” 

---

“Come ON.”

“Raph, stop. It’s not gonna work,” April sighed.

“It will if it knows what’s good for it!” He snapped, reeling back and throwing himself at the bars of their literal cage once more with a loud crash, the very walls shaking in response. “Come on! Open already!!!” 

“Raph--”

“We’ve gotta get outta here!” He hissed, his tail whipping behind him, and the sharp movement threw him off balance, nearly making him stumble to one side. Goddammit. He swore softly under his breath, bristling, the anger scratching underneath his (foreign, strange, uncomfortable) skin only pitching higher in response. They had already been here for-- what?! Two days? Three?! They were so close, and now they were just stuck here, completely vulnerable, completely at the mercy of an actual, literal crime boss--

“Raph. Stop,” April said again, firmer this time, reaching out to grab his arm. “You’re hurting yourself.”

Raph yanked his arm away from her, whipping around to look at her, growling, his lips drawn back over his fangs in a snarl. April didn’t flinch away or back off. Her hand chased after his.

That was almost worse, and Raph’s snarl almost immediately gave way to a cracked little half-sob. His body slumped slightly, unclenching tight muscles to instead wilt in exhaustion.

“I have to get us out of here…” he insisted weakly, looking away from her again, hiding from her eyes out of shame. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want her to look at him. Jesus, what did he look like right now…? His clawed feet scraped against the ground beneath them. Earlier today he had accidentally stabbed Leo with one of the spikes of his shell after moving too fast and left a bruise. A fucking bruise.

Yeah, sure, fine. Maybe his brothers were freaks now. But he was even worse. He was a monster. A useless one.

He sobbed properly this time.

“Raph, it’s alright,” April tried to comfort, moving close enough to rest her hand on his arm, and looking at how tiny she was compared to him made him feel sick. He was pretty sure he could bite off her hand if he really wanted to. Even if he didn’t want to-- what if he still did somehow? “We’ll figure a way out of here--”

“It’s not alright!” He hissed, his chest tightening. “I have to fix this.”

“Raph, we’ll fix it together,” Mikey spoke up, almost cautiously moving to Raph’s other side. “I’m sure we can figure out--”

“No!” He snapped, and he hated to interrupt Mikey, and he felt bad as soon as he did it, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t-- panicking, exactly, but he was close to it. Next to it. “I’m-- I’m supposed to protect you guys, and I can’t even--”

“Raph, you don’t have to always protect us!” Mikey protested.

“But I want to!” Raph cried in protest. “I want to protect you guys, I wanna keep you safe, and I-- I didn’t! I’m supposed to take care of everyone! I’m supposed to be in charge when Dad isn’t here, and I-- all I did was bring us to some magic crime city, get us locked up like animals, and turned into mutants!--” He barked out a strained, teary laugh. “And I can’t even get us back out!”

A few tears tracked down his face. “Dad trusted me to take care of everyone when he wasn’t here and I just let him down.” He could feel the panic breathing hotly down his neck. “He’d be so disappointed in me--”

“Raph, stop.” Mikey hissed, his voice hard, so very much so that it quite nearly surprised Raph out of his spiral. 

“That’s not true at all,” his younger brother hissed, his own face kind of flushed and teary as well. “None of that is even your fault! And even if it was, I still wouldn’t care and neither would Dad! And you are protecting us! We’re all still here, aren’t we?” 

“More or less,” Leo mumbled softly, bitterly, and Raph looked ruefully down at his claws, shifting his joints closer and biting down a hiccup. Mikey glared.

“We are!” He insisted. “Look, we’re still the same people, even if we do look different now! Right? None of that other stuff matters so long as we stick together--”

“Mikey, stop it!” Donnie snapped, bristling a bit, his head jerking up so sharply that it was likely painful. “Just stop, okay!? Stop saying it doesn’t matter! Stop saying that we’re ‘still the same people on the inside,’ stop trying to find the dumb silver lining, okay!? Just admit that this sucks! Okay!? Just because you’re apparently all hunky-dory about being a fucking box turtle--”

“You think I like this?!” Now it was Mikey’s turn to snap, rounding on his siblings, his hands clenched into angry fists. “You think I’m happy about this!? Because I’m not, okay!? I hate it too! Does that make you feel better!? I’m fucking miserable. I hate this. I’m scared and I don’t know what’s going on and I’m really, really sick of falling over because I don’t even know how to walk anymore!”

Mikey sobbed loudly, plopping back down on his rear.

“I hate this,” he hiccuped weakly. “I hate it too. I’m just. I’m j-just… I’m trying my best…”

Another sob wretched itself from his throat as he buried his face in his arms.

For one long moment, quiet veiled the space.

Raphael was careful and calculated in his movements, taking care with the spikes and sharp edges of his body as he scooped his brother up in his arms, wrapping him up tight. Mikey wept, clinging to his brother in return.

“Sorry,” Raph mumbled, very softly.

Leo joined them quickly enough, burrowing in against his brothers’ side. “Me too,” he whispered.

Donnie didn’t join the embrace, but he did sit close by, hugging his legs to his chest and staring to the side, down to the ground. “Me… too,” he sighed, frowning a little, twitching uncomfortably. “... Sorry. This. This just really sucks.”

“It does suck,” Leo agreed.

“Yeah,” Raph mumbled.

“I keep dropping things b-because I-- I only have three fingers,” Mikey warbled softly.

“Me too,” Donnie admitted. “And I can’t really sleep, because I don’t know how to get comfortable anymore.”

“I keep accidentally biting my tongue,” Raph said.

“Every time I sit down, I crush my own tail under my ass, ‘cause I’m not used to it being there,” Leo confessed with a small laugh. “Isn’t that stupid?”

“My back hurts because of the shell. I’m just not used to it being there. It’s so heavy.”

“Everything smells so much stronger now. I hate it. It’s nauseating.”

“I still can’t figure out how to balance like this.”

“I just feel so stupid. How could we not know?”

“It’s all so overwhelming. I mean, just, everything. I can’t believe there’s so much that we forgot.”

“It seems so obvious now, looking back…”

“My skin is so thick now. It’s awful. I feel all swollen all the time, like I can’t bend any of my joints properly. I feel stiff.”

“If that guy made us, if we’re his ‘creations,’ experiments, then we’re not yokai, right? We’re something else. Mutants, I guess. Is there anyone else like us?”

“How did Dad even end up with us? What happened?”

“Do you think he’s a mutant, too? God. What else don’t we know? What else didn’t he tell us?”

“Do we still count as Hamatos? Are we Hamatos at all…? Do you think Ghost-Sensei knows?”

“I’m glad we know. I mean, mostly. We should know, but I just… part of me wishes we didn’t.”

“We can’t ever go back.”

“Our entire life was just, like, a lie. It was a trick. The whole time. And we fell for it. I can’t believe we all fell for it--”

“We just have to be different now.”

“We were always different, but at least before, we didn’t have to… to carry it. I don’t even know how I could even talk to people now. Even if we do fix the bracelets. How am I supposed to just talk to normal people when I’m in the back of my mind, like, ‘oh my god, they don’t know I’m a turtle’ the whole time?”

“I think I’m sort of glad Dad didn’t tell us. I mean. I’m upset, too, but I just… I dunno. Everything feels so complicated now.”

“I can’t believe we forgot.”

The longer they talked, all five of them bunched up together, the less tears there were, and eventually, during a moment of quiet, Mikey sighed, taking Raph’s big hand in his own smaller one.

“You hurt your knuckles,” he observed, noting the swollen, occasionally bloodied skin around the joints. Raph gave a very soft huff of laughter.

“Yeah, well, guess we match, then,” he said, though Mikey’s own knuckles were mostly healed by now, only bearing a few small scabs. Mikey smiled, just the tiniest bit, just for a second, before he sighed, laying his head back slightly. 

“I know this sucks,” Mikey mumbled. “... Like, it really, really sucks. But at least we’re still together. And that counts for something, doesn’t it? I think so long as we’re together, then we… we’ll be okay.”

Leo gave a wry smile, elbowing his brother ever-so-slightly. “Wow, Mikey, when did you get so wise?” He teased.

Mikey grinned, chuckling a bit and laying his head back again to stare at the ceiling, and then stare out the bars of the door that contained them. Raph sighed, his gaze following after his little brother’s, gazing out into the empty halfway. He had no idea why they were being kept here or what they were planning on doing with them. None of the guards would even speak with them. It was terrifying, if he was being honest.

But they had come here for a reason.

He believed what Mikey said. He did. If they were all together, they’d be okay. But that meant all of them.

“We’re gonna find Dad,” he finally said. “We are. And he’ll know how to help fix it. I know he will.”

---

“Raph.”

He wasn’t meaning to ignore his Dad. He wasn’t. He just--

“Raphael.” 

Mikey whined loudly, pulling against his older brother’s grasp, attempting to wriggle away from the iron grip Raph had on his wrist.

“Raphael.” This time, his father reached over, physically removing Raphael’s hands from his younger sibling. Mikey immediately went darting off, and Raph’s heart jumped up into his throat, his eyes growing wide.

“Dad--!”

“It’s okay, Red.”

“Dad, he’s too far!” He hissed, his voice strained with panic as he turned desperately to his father, grabbing at his pants leg. 

“No, he’s not. It’s okay, Raphael. Here. Look.”

He hoisted his child up in his arms with just a bit of effort, holding him up to his chest.

“See, my son? We can still see him from here.”

From up in his dad’s arms, Raph could watch Mikey throw himself into a pit of brightly colored foam balls with a squeal of excitement from across the play area. Leo wasn’t far off, immediately moving to join his little brother’s side, eager to show him all the blue balls he had collected. Dozens of other children scampered about nearby, clambering over play equipment and chasing one another. Raph frowned, grabbing fistfuls of his father’s shirt and fidgeting, chewing on his fingers nervously.

“What if he gets lost?”

“He won’t.”

“What if… there’s somethin’ dangerous?”

“There is nothing dangerous here, Raphael.”

“What if there is?” He pressed. “It’s big.”

“It’s okay, Red,” Dad soothed, readjusting his grip on his child, drawing him a bit closer. “I promise it is safe here.”

Raph looked down at the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists, the tiniest whine escaping from him. His father sighed softly.

“You have done a very good job looking after our family, Red,” he hummed, rocking them back and forth just the tiniest bit, idly swaying as he spoke. “But things are different now. Okay? Nothing here is going to hurt Michelangelo. And even if it did, I am right here to help. I am not going anywhere. I will not leave you alone. I swear I will take care of you and your brothers. Alright?”

Raph sniffled a bit, nodding the tiniest bit.

“If we are ever anywhere where it might be unsafe, I will tell you, okay? So you can watch out for your little brothers. Like when I tell you all to hold hands when we cross the street, right? Would that help?”

He nodded again, swallowing the lump in his throat as he laid his head down on his dad’s shoulder.

“Good,” he sighed, rubbing a few small circles along his back. “Do you want to go and play? There are lots of things here that I think you would like if you tried them. I think you’d have a lot of fun if you would let me handle looking after your brothers.”

Raph shook his head, burrowing further into his father’s embrace. He did want to go play, really. They had never been anywhere so cool before! They had been to the playground a few times now, but this was like a playground inside-- and they even had video games! And prizes! And he wanted to follow after his brothers, to stay close to them, but…

They kept going in opposite directions. And this place was so big and he couldn’t follow all of them, and, and--

“Okay. That’s fine,” Dad assured. “How about this? How about we sit and watch together for ten minutes, and then we can try going and playing something with one of your brothers. Do you think that would work, Raphael?”

Raph sucked in a deep, shaking breath, wiping at his eyes a bit before he finally nodded.

“Uh-huh.”

---

Though he had, in fact, performed in the Battle Nexus as scheduled that same evening, and then the following day as well, he was not actually ‘released,’ so to speak, from the infirmary until now, three-and-a-half blood transfusions later. Yoshi supposed he had no real complaints, given that the infirmary had actual beds in it to sleep upon, but the staff there were not exactly friendly, and he had quickly tired of being awakened at all hours of the night by other screaming patients. Not to mention that it was very awkward to share the same sleeping space with someone who’s leg you had recently broken in four different places…

But Big Mama had visited him each evening he was there. 

The guard escorting him was really a formality at this point, Yoshi suspected, and he almost dared to hope that he would be allowed to move freely through the Nexus in the near future. Surely Big Mama knew he would not try to run away with his children relying on her protection, right?

If he were permitted to wander without supervision, he might be able to corner a spectator and inquire about the current state of the Hidden City police’s hunt for Baron Draxum. He didn’t expect Big Mama would be informing him of such things, but if Draxum was apprehended, then there was a chance he might be able to find a way out of here and get himself back home, get those four remaining years like he had planned, or at least go visit his children and make sure they were okay… he hated that he had left without saying goodbye first, and had no doubt scared them with how he had disappeared.

 He had been researching for quite some time now, in between parenting and managing dojos, alternative sources for cloaking crystals. If he was able to pay for new ones, he could return Big Mama’s to her and perhaps argue to lighten his ‘sentence,’ or maybe even get out of it somehow. It was a long shot, but worth a try. Maybe this time could count towards that? He had had the crystals for ten years… did that mean he owed ten years time as a champion in return…? Ten years was still not as bad as a lifetime, assuming he lived through it all… 

He frowned as he calculated, shuffling his feet through the cold halls. 

The deal had still been worth it. He didn’t regret it. If a lifetime in the Battle Nexus was the price for his children’s lives in the world, then it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

He just regretted the pain he knew he inflicted on his family. It had always bothered him, sitting on his shoulder and hissing in his ear for the past ten years of his life. Every wonderful moment, every birthday, every movie night and dance recital and field trip, he still thought about it. Thought about how he would have to leave one day, and how it would hurt them. 

It was a shame. They deserved better than that. He had already done everything he could, even now, to prepare and to soften the inevitable blow as much as possible. Tucked away in the back of his nightstand back home, he already had hand-written cards for each of his sons’ college graduations, wedding days, and the birth of their first children, preparing for every scenario, just in case, since he knew he likely wouldn’t see most of them should they come to pass. He had had everything prepared, legally, for years now, so things would be taken care of in the event of his ‘death’ or ‘disappearance,’ and so that his children would have to shoulder as little of that burden as possible. He had invested in a hefty life insurance policy back when they were still in elementary school, ensuring that they would always be taken care of financially in his absence. 

He had even penned a letter, years and years ago, that could be delivered to his children once he was gone. He had been ready to die for a long time now.

But he still wasn’t prepared for how heavy the guilt would feel.

He, likewise, was not prepared for the shriek that pierced through the air a moment later as he passed by one of the dungeon’s many hallways, so sharp and sudden that he stumbled slightly.

“DAD!!!”

He absolutely froze in his tracks, his heart stopping still in his chest as he whipped around to face the familiar voice. His eyes widened so dramatically he was half afraid that they would fall from his head.“April!?” He cried, spluttering slightly. “Boys!?”

[ next ]

[lunanova99]

Been getting back into my dc phase(jason todd phase) I tend to just curcle around different fandoms and stuff and that's what I've been doing for a while now! This is actually my first time drawing something comic book related it was really fun!

[Start ID: Young jason todd in his robin suit with several injuries including bruises on his arms and face a cut on his arm and blood running from his nose, mouth and skull his left eye is swollen and he's crying as he realizes that nobody will save him from the massive explosion behind him :End ID]

[junebugtwin]

merry Christmas to those of you it applies to, have a unfinished Worm animation on the house <3

[zombie-and-puppet-child]

Oh, what’s this? An official Mike reference sheet?

[fictionkinfessions]

Info: This ask was made October 9th, the day in the Coffin of Andy and Leyley fandom has a art/writing prompt for today to make something with the theme "Dear Mom and Dad" this ask is my contribution to the fandom.

Dear Mom: You are a piece of shit. I HATE you. I would gladly relive killing you over and over for eternity. You put me through so much awful shit. I wish I was slower. I wish I could've put you through all the pain you put me through. I wish I could've said everything you ever said to me. I wish I could've hurt you. But instead I got to eager and ahead of myself. All I ended up doing was arguing with you, cutting your shoulder, giving your soul to the demon, and then stabbing you in the heart. I wish I did more. I don't care if that makes me evil.

Dear Dad: You are a terrible person. I don't fucking understand why you were a pure soul. Fuck you. All you're useless ass ever did was go to work, eat, complain about work, and then sleep. You never stopped Mom. You never once thought to save me and Andrew from her abuse. Well... You were no better. Yo neglected us. Hell, you didn't even know our goddamn names! Our names were not Anders and Ainsley. You literally went along with Mom's plan to sell us and when that didn't work, her plan to hire an assassin.

Both of you are awful people. I don't give a flying fuck that Andrew was born when you, Mom were 15 and me at 17. I don't care that both of you were teenagers. You decided to fuck without protection. But the least you could've done was abort us that way we wouldn't have suffered your awful parenting.

Oh, and by the way to anyone who might be a kin or fictive of either of these people, I don't hate you in this life. I hope you know that. I hope you have changed.

-Ashley Graves #🩷🖤

[profchamomile]

a childhood memory for the memory asks?

(@purriors)

//Assume all these writing bits are like. Off-screen stuff.

//This might be sloppy; I didn't really take time to proof-read it much

//heed the tags

"You got your toy all muddy AGAIN?"

"I'm sorry, mom; I was trying to be careful, but I fell..."

"I swear, Kate, you'd lose your head in the mud if it wasn't attached to your body! At this point, we're better off gettin' you a new one. I don't know HOW many more washes that thing can take."

"NO, I don't WANT a new one!! She's been with me forever; she's my best friend!"

"Kate, it's JUST a toy! We can get you one that looks exactly the same! Now come on, throw it away. You have to learn to let GO of such trivial things!"

These words echoed in the mind of a small, red-haired child, who staggered through the junkyard in the dead of night, tears running own their face. She tried her best to rummage through what they could lift, but they weren't sure where to start. The dump was so much bigger than they thought it would be, and it consisted of much, MUCH more than just their family's trash.

They were exhausted from having walked the whole way. Their legs were just barely holding them up. Yet still they searched. They searched for their best friend - their one item of comfort.

"Arceus, please..." The child whimpered to themself. "Please help me find Belle..."

Suddenly, some of the the trash behind them moved on its own. The child startled, jumping and turning around, but unable to make out anything more than a vague figure scurrying about.

They started running. They ran as fast as they could, but they could hear the creature give chase as it let out a piercing cry.

As determined as the child was to get away, one wrong step was all it took for their leg to hyper-extend, causing them to fall to the ground, holding their leg in pain as their kneecap felt indescribably out-of-place.

They turned around, seeing the figure's glowing eyes and eerie smile hidden in the shadows, and attempted to scoot back.

"I- I'm sorry... I d-d-didn't mean to enter your home, I just-... I just wanted to find my toy," the child choked out, "P- please, just let me find her and- and I'll go home, I promise!"

The figure didn't seem to heed the child's pleas, however. It let out a low, menacing chuckle as it stepped out into the moonlight, and revealed itself to be a Banette, wearing a muddy and faded jester's outfit. It notably rang with every movement, with bells attached to the pokemon's satin bracelets, collar, and jester's hat.

"Belle...?"

The Banette raised her arms and let out a menacing cry, though the small size and the bells ringing did nothing to help the affect.

The child slowly stood up. "Belle... It's really you!" A smile grew on their face as they clumsily ran towards the Pokemon, and fell to their knees once again to scoop the Banette up in their arms.

"You're alive... You're alive, you're alive!" the child repeated. "I'm so sorry I threw you away... Mom wouldn't let me keep you."

"I'm sorry I dropped you so much," they continued, "I- I didn't mean to... I don't know why I always trip, or why my knees bend the wrong way, or why my legs get so tired easily... I wish I could keep you clean so mom wouldn't get so mad..."

The Banette simply let herself be hugged, absolutely confused and astonished on how to react. Eventually however, she lifted her small plush arms in an attempt to hug the child back.

"I don't care if she'll get mad at me again," said the child, "You're my best friend. And you're alive, now! She can't make me get rid of you! A- and if she does, I'll just find you again!"

The child finally pulled away to smile at the Banette. "C'mon, Belle. Let's get to a Pokemon center. Maybe they'll help clean us up before we get home."

"I gotta... Get you a Pokeball, anyway-" The child struggled to stand, though due the pain in their knee, they fell again. They grabbed their knee, squeezing their eyes tightly shut and trying their best not to cry out in pain. "O-ow..."

They felt an invisible force pick them up, and looked down to realize that they were back on their feet, yet they felt almost... Weightless.

The Banette climbed onto the child's shoulder and let out a cheerful "Ba-nette!". The glow in her eyes were slightly more intense than it was a few seconds ago.

"Huh?" The child looked over at their Banette. "Belle... Do you know psychic?"

"Ba-NETTE!" the Pokemon happily confirmed.

"Wow, Belle, you're amazing!" The kid flapped their hands excitedly. "Thanks so much, this'll make walking so much easier! Now let's go!"

While walking carefully, still in pain from their dislocated knee, they made their way to a Pokemon center, where the Banette officially became registered as the child's first Pokemon.