#had a vision and couldn't resist heh

[zu-is-here]

double game

[itzzaira]

Withering Butterflies || future Michelangelo story

TW: Spirits, main character is dying and is aware of this. Mention of passed loved ones (who are also confirmed to be just fine and here)

When a mystic warrior is close to death, no matter the cause or reason of their passing- there are signs.

Signs their mystic magic sends out because it can sense that death is near, that it won't be long before it's time to leave the mortal realm, that their clock is almost done ticking. Such signs could be exhaustion, illness, a following sense of doom, weakened mystic magic, losing control of said magic, mystic aging, increase in visions-

Seeing spirits.

Not like his ancestors whom he tried to talk with on purpose. No, in his everyday life.

This is what they would call Mystic Sickness.

It didn't matter what you died off- it could be because of mystic magic, an attack, it didn't matter. Your mystic energies would sense it. It will let you know. It will make sure you know.

Michelangelo had ignored the signs for as much as he could- the mystic aging was because of the overuse of his ninpo, the exhaustion and loss of appetite was because of said aging, the sense of doom that followed him everywhere was normal they lived in the apocolypse-

He really had ignored it, for as long as he could.

Until the first butterfly had landed on his snout.

The white, glowing butterfly.

Butterflies had gone instinct years ago.

As soon as Michelangelo had seen that first butterfly... he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore.

He was dying.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew he would die much younger than everyone else- he had always known. He was the only mystic warrior the resistance had, the only one who could cure those corrupted by Krang, the only one who could heal, the strongest out of them- which resulted in the overuse of his ninpo. He had assumed it would be his mystic powers that killed him.

He was right.

But no one needed to know that.

Instead of going to Leonardo, like he probably should, Mikey had ignored it. He had ignored how sick he felt, he ignored his hair that fell off in chunks, he ignored the sense of doom that seemed to get worse, he ignored the butterflies that only he could see that followed him everywhere.

...Butterflies that seemed to get more each and each day. The amount of spirits that seemed to be more, much more, following him around-

Until he had sensed the first spirit in Donnie's lab.

"...It is sad to see you sensing me so soon, Michelangelo."

Mikey had just smiled, gently closed the door behind him, and opened his eyes. "Good to see you again, Bary."

"Is it?" The sheep yokai crossed his arms, that same annoyed yet worried scowl on his face that Mikey had missed so much. His body was glowing cyan and his pupils were gone, just like every other spirit he had met until now- did that mean he was Hamato? He wasn't sure, the man didn't have the Hamato symbol- "-because I had hoped to see you hit your forties before you joined us."

Mikey smiled. "Heh... h-hah... hic..."

His smile fell.

He covered his mouth and allowed himself this moment of weakness- letting the orange-glowing tears drip down his cheeks as he slid onto the floor- his legs were too weak to hold him up. Part of the reason he had started floating everywhere. His legs were too weak to stand on.

The butterflies that had been surrounding him went down with him, landing all over his shoulders and head, trying to drink his tears. Michelangelo didn't know what was worse- the fact he was crying like a child... or the fact that the spirits seemed to think they were on the same plane of existence.

"...Oh, child." Draxum bent down next to him- he didn't have any of the old scars he had gotten, Mikey noted. The spirit winced at the orange tears, knowing full well they shouldn't be that color, but didn't comment on it. "You look so tired, Michelangelo."

"I am." The turtle wept, wincing when his tears burned his fingers. He shivered at the sensation of ghostly fingers touching his cheek- it felt cold. So cold.

As cold as he had been feeling, for the past couple of weeks.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew his passing would be painful- probably by his magic ripping him into a thousand tiny pieces, or maybe he would get stabbed or something by Krang- he didn't know. He didn't care.

He foresaw all possible futures, all the possible outcomes, all the possible ways he would wither away. Made sure to be prepared, made sure to fight alone so no one would see him perish. Yet, he was worried.

Worried because until now, he hadn't been able to communicate with any of his family. "Where are my-"

"With your brother." Draxum pulled away, sat down properly, and folded his hands in his lap. "They didn't want to leave, but Leonardo seemed to be having a hard time."

...

"...They're... here?" Mikey could have cried with that knowledge if he hadn't been crying already, but didn't know if that was because of relief or hurt. They had been here? Here? All this time? When he had been searching for his brother's spirits... they had been he here? He... they never left?

They never left them alone.

They hadn't been resting like he'd hoped.

"...Cassandra is here as well," Draxum muttered, recognizing that his adoptive son was getting stuck in his own head again. "She wanted to make sure that Leonardo didn't raise her son to be a, and I quote, 'whimp'."

Mikey snorted. He couldn't help the giggles, covering his mouth with both hands. That sounded like Cassandra alright. She had seen him grow up after all? It... wasn't the best way, but- it was something.

"...Would you like to speak with your father?"

His head snapped up. Mikey looked at the spirit with disbelief, bloodshot eyes blown wide. "...Dad is here too?"

"He never left."

"..." The turtle curled up and winced once his legs ached at the movement. With a flick of his hand, his mystic magic lifted his legs and curled them to his chest. Mikey thought, for a moment... and then shook his head.

"...I doubt I could see him anyway." He mumbled. A butterfly got close to his cheek when a single tear slipped down.

"...I know." Draxum sighed. "I assume I'm the first spirit you're seeing?"

He nodded.

Selfishly, Michelangelo had hoped to find Donatello today, once he sensed the spirit in the lab. But thats okay. He would see him soon enough.

"I'm dying."

Not a question. A statement.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Instead of answering, Michelangelo held out his hand. Another butterfly landed on his finger. Draxum sighed, muttered under his breath, and shook his head. "If you had stopped using mystic magic when I told you to you wouldn't be."

"I was needed." He watched the tiny creature's wings- so fragile, so small- so beautiful. No wonder it hadn't survived this world. "I didn't have a choice, Barry."

"Your magic is destroying you as we speak." Another grumble. "Your future visions are getting out of hand."

The turtle couldn't help it- he cracked a smile. "...You know about those?"

"You wake up floating in the air surrounded by mystic particles and many spirits all around you." The man crossed his arms. "I'm surprised Leonardo hasn't noticed yet."

"I don't want him to know." Mikey cringed when he felt some hair slip down his cloak when he shifted his position to sit more comfortably, then winced when his legs ached. He sighed, defeated. And with the flick of his hand, mystic magic lifted up his legs and crossed them.

Another butterfly settled on his knee.

"...Do you know how you're going to..."

"No." He didn't know if that was good or bad. Michelangelo knew it was important to stay prepared... but he didn’t exactly want to predict his own death. That was just how his visions worked. They were set in stone.

...Which brought up another issue.

"...I can't die yet, Draxum." A single tear slipped down his cheek, which immediately caused a swarm of butterflies to get closer to his face. "I'm needed here."

"You've destroyed yourself doing too much." Blunt, without sugar-coating it- yep, that was Draxum alright. "Your body can't hang on anymore. I'm sorry, Michelangelo."

If he had the energy, the turtle would fight it.

He would get up, say something about how you needed to do more to take this turtle down, then either get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to scan him or attempt to heal himself, fail, find some books, a cure- something.

But he was just so tired.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew what death was. He knew what it felt like. Cold, lonely, dark. At least. That was what death used to be. These days, death seemed warm. Peaceful. Lovely. And even though he couldn't sense their spirits yet, knowing the rest of his family was near and waiting, made it look so so much better. Heck, even the spirits with him right now- they felt cool, sure. But not freezing. This was a nice cool he used to feel when there used to be Summer breezes, offering relief amongst all the heat and allowing him to breathe.

But just as death had changed... so had life.

Life, which used to be joyful and warm and happy and bright, had turned dark and cold and full of grief. Never full, never well rested, always on the move, always dirty, always cold. Being cold bothered him the most, for some reason. Probably because instinct kept screaming at him to brumate but the turtle couldn't let himself.

Life had changed. So had death. And the other, brighter side didn't seem as bad anymore.

But...

"What about Leo?"

Draxum turned his head back so quickly, looking shocked and... something else. "...You are the one dying. Let me repeat that. Dying. And you worry about your brother?"

"I can't leave him, Barry..."

"He has April and Casey."

"It's not the same."

When their father had been... lost. The four had been together. They had grieved, they buried him somewhere worthy, they prayed.

When Raph had... left. The three had been there. They had been there the moment the building collapsed on top of him, had been with him as he moved from one plane of existence to the other, unwilling to let go and holding onto each other instead.

When Donnie...

...

"What will happen to them when I'm gone, Barry?" His breath hitched in ways it hadn't done for what felt like eons. His shoulders started shaking as he tried to curl up- but the pain that shot up his legs made him freeze instead, which just. Did it.

He couldn't move his legs. He knew damn well why.

Draxum's expression softened as he watched the turtle fall apart, watched the butterflies land all over his face to try and lap up his tears- it was fine. He could be weak. Just this once.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

Heck, he even longed for the warmth and love on the other side.

But...

Magic lifted his legs so he could curl up as he wanted to, and pulled up his cloak so his head was hidden, ignoring the hair that fell at the action alone. He buried his head in his knees, hugged himself, and- apologized.

How selfish.

To leave this cold, horrible world... when he was still needed here.

Needed by April, who needed her little brother to try and light up others- the only positive thing left.

Needed by Casey, who had lost his mother at such a young age, lost half his uncles, and shouldn't be losing another...

Needed by Leo.

Leo, who still blamed himself for something that wasn't his fault every single day. Leo, who started leading the resistance at such a young age to make up for said thing. Leo, who kept trying to give his portions of food because the younger brother just looked so sickly.

How selfish would he be to leave?

He couldn't do that to Leo. Not to Leo.

"They'll find ways to go on." The yokai mumbled, getting closer and letting a ghostly hand rest on Mikey's shell. It felt cold. A nice cold. But still, the mutant flinched away. No. "They've got each other."

"Leo won't survive, Barry." Mikey cried, looking up- okay the tears were starting to burn. It hurt. But at least that meant he was alive. "He barely did after Donnie. He can't. He won't... Barry. I can't leave yet."

"..." Draxum let a butterfly land on his finger. Looked at the insect, lost in thoughts. "...I'm afraid you do not have a choice."

He knew that. He had known for quite a while, even when the turtle tried to lie to himself and make up excuses for all of his symptoms.

But this...

He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Not for this. There was no other explanation as to why he was seeing spirits.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He was afraid of what would happen to Leonardo after.

[2aceofspades]

Trick or treat! It's fanfic anon, here to drop off a treat for you! Rereading Wrong Fabricated Time Branch has me feeling things and I wrote this little magnetic duo thing-

---

Cassandra didn't come back.

Between Casey Junior, the entire rest of the Resistance, and trying and failing to be there for his family, Leo barely had time for himself. Heh, what was a little less time for himself when there was the rest of the world to take care of?

So then, Leo found himself caring for a child that wasn't his; said child sleeping peacefully for the first time in days. That part was fine, not at all stressful. With that child loosely swaddled in his own scarf, he paced around the room as he briefly (and quietly) laid out the plans for the next resource raid. His energy waned, his vision blurring and his words turning into white noise. His steps grew more haggard, but standing or sitting still wouldn't feel right either.

Out of the corner of his eye, Leo noticed a familiarly large silhouette walk past the open door. No, not quite walking past; more like walking towards. He merely nodded to address the other presence, not quite recognising who was standing there until he dismissed the rest a few minutes later.

The moment the last member left the room, Leo identified the closest horizontal surface, set Casey Junior on a chair, and immediately collapsed onto the hard wooden table.

"Leo?"

Leo could only groan in response, recognition finally taking root in his mind. He turned his head away from the source of the sound, groaning. He just wanted his two minutes of table time before the next team went in.

"Leo. It's important, we need'a talk."

Despite the fatigue in his bones, Leo sat up (yes, on the table) to face the snapping turtle. Oof, the big guy was getting blurrier than he remembered, but he assumed he looked focused enough to "make eye contact".

"What is it? News on Cass? Missing resources? Someone lost their kid?"

"Not that."

"Then what?"

There was silence, and Raph's glare (Leo's assuming) was piercing enough. Be it a result of their odd ability to mind meld or something similar, Leo knew Raph wasn't here to talk about the Resistance.

The slider sighed, "Then it isn't important."

Leo couldn't quite see the expression on Raph's face change, but there was a shift in the tension of the room. "Leo. Everyone can see it. You need rest."

"Wha-hat?" Leo sounded way too surprised for it to be funny, but he had to make an attempt at levity, "You think I'm tired? Are you mistaking me for Donnie?"

Raph didn't even pause. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Uh-" He stifled the way his words began to slur.

"Or the last time you had more than five minutes for yourself?"

"Well-" He fought his faltering vision.

"Or the last time we talked about stuff that doesn't concern the Resistance?"

"Come on, that isn't fair!" He knew Raph was mad, but it wouldn't be the first time.

"Tell me."

The leader could nearly feel the glare on the other. He could only cross his arms, stopping himself from curling in on himself. Falling back into old habits wouldn't help anyone.

"Hey! I'm saving the world, right?" The slider tried to stop himself from sounding accusatory, but it came out targeted anyway, "Fixing my mistakes, making the right sacrifices, being a hero?"

"Listen to me-"

"We're doing better now than we were before; who cares if it takes a few all-nighters-"

"Leo-"

"I'm getting results!"

"Raph just wants his brother back!"

His vision blurred even more, cold streaks going down his face as the weight of those words sunk in. No, they didn't sink; Raph threw those words like bricks and Leo could only shatter like glass.

"You're the only one we barely see."

Leo let himself curl into a ball, holding his knees up to his plastron. He wanted to feel like a child again, but that wasn't what he deserved.

"Always busy talking to other members, never letting the rest of us help with Casey, always throwing yourself headfirst into danger when someone else was at risk," Raph muttered that last part, and Leo sunk his head into his shell, "You may be the leader, but Raph's still the oldest. I want to know what's going on with you."

It took a moment for Leo to construct a word, let alone the sentence. He made an attempt at speech, only for it to come out a defeated chirp.

Raph must've made a face, even if Leo could barely see it. He first heard the click of a door closing shut, then the softness of fabric against his wet eyes and cheeks. "Raph's sorry for yelling."

"Chhrrr..." (It was deserved.)

Raph didn't understand. Maybe much to Leo's benefit. "But please just listen to Raph for once... I won't leave you alone, none of us will. We're in this together, 'kay?"

"Erp..." (No promises.)

A pause.

"Can Raph hug you?" Leo paused, but nodded. He leaned forward and fell into a familiar embrace. Unconsciously, he found himself sinking into the warmth the other provided, melting like a cat in a container.

Strong, secure, safe, even when the apocalypse outside raged on. For once, he'll allow himself this one comfort.

GAH-

You...you can't do this to me okay???

THIS IS CANON NOW OKAY YEAH THIS HAPPENED-

I couldn't stop myself...

It...it was just too vivid in my mind 🥲

[gachawolfiebloom]

Love Malfunction

Chapter 2: Something Is Wrong

Summary: Love is in the air as the Mushroom Kingdom is celebrating Valentine's Day, except for a certain someone. Mr Puzzles has hated the holiday ever since he can remember, seeing how nobody loved him his whole life. That is until he unexpectedly runs into his loathsome enemy, Mario. After the encounter with the stupid plumber, things only get worse for the television as he starts hacking up flower petals, pink ooze drips from his screen, and for some reason these symptoms worsen anytime the TV man gets around the red Italian. Now the both of them must fix this before their days of romance turn into disaster.

He couldn't see it. He couldn't see anything. All that surrounded him was darkness. The same darkness from where he entered this hellhole. But that wasn't all...

Something was...off.

His body felt like it was being weighed down, an extreme pain in his chest that caused immense suffering anytime he breathed. Where were his legs? He had made use without them before, but this wasn't his doing. It felt like they had been ripped clean off. Why can't he feel his arms? It was as if they had been replaced by deep roots that implanted the same pain from within his screaming chest. His vision had been blurred out by his broken screen, but not like that mattered with all this eternal blackness around him. After moments of silence, he began to speak.

"Ugh. Wh- What happened...?"

His body stayed locked in its position despite his urges to fight it. Panic began to settle in as the situation began to sink into his memory.

"Why can't I move? What's going on!? Am I back at the asylum!?"

By this point he was desperate for somebody, anybody to come to his aid. Leggy, Smg4, even Mario. Nobody was there. Nobody was around to help. He was alone.

"Huh?"

His attention then shifted to a pile on the ground beneath him. They looked like...rose petals?

"What...What is this?"

Begging for a closer look, he resisted the urge to succumb to the unbearable suffering within him as he used his weird arms to crawl over. He didn't understand. It was just an innocent pile of petals. There wasn't anything special about them. Nothing but a display of pity.

That's when the pile began to stir like some kind of creature was underneath. The petals scattered to reveal an unconscious man. He was suddenly petrified when he saw who it was.

"N-No...It can't be..."

He couldn't believe what he just saw. It can't be. There's no way it could be him.

"Mar-"

~

Mr Puzzles woke up with a start, sitting up while accompanied by a cold and shaky breath. Sweat lines were imaged on his screen and his shaky grip clutched the sides of his rickety bed. That tragic climax, that horrifying scene. Puzzles couldn't stop replaying those ghastly images that were imbedded in his mind. He let out an unsteady sigh and tried to act as optimistic as possible.

"Heh...just a nightmare. Fleeting shadows of my past. That's all."

But he still kept thinking about that last part. Was his dream a sign for his oncoming future or was it-

All of a sudden, Mr Puzzles felt something get caught in the wires of his throat. He covered his hands over his mouth in queasiness, feeling as if he was going to throw up. In a flash, Mr Puzzles ran over to the dirty bathroom in his household and held his head over the sink, coughing up a storm. Looking back up at his tired expression in the mirror, he saw what had made him so nauseous. A couple of flower petals stuck in the drain. At first, he was confused, trying to make sense of a television hacking up freaking petals that belonged in nature, not his beautiful body.

Then a line from yesterday made the realization instantly clear.

"I hate this flower. Nothing but a display of pity."

Mr Puzzles soon felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Fear. He gasped and fell over, causing the mirror to slip from its perch and shatter into thousands of pieces on the floor. The TV-headed man said nothing in that moment as all he could muster was a pained gulp, feeling more flower petals run back down hence they came from. He stared at his cracked reflection in the broken glass shards before getting up rapidly and steadily, wobbling a little bit with one step.

"The flower- Where's the flower!?"

Mr Puzzles kicked the door open and ran back to the spot he'd left the rose last night, his run down table used for capturing many movies that were supposed to put him back on top. Obviously that didn't happen, but Mr Puzzles was too stressed out to worry about it right now. A clear sign that something was definitely wrong with him. As he ran, he kept panicking to himself. "Oh please be there! Oh please, please, please-"

He skidded to a stop and looked down to find the rose exactly where he had put it, except now it had some kind of mystical glow around it, vaguely noticeable, but still a noteworthy factor. Well, at least it didn't pull that old trick of conveniently disappearing and the hero having to set off on a crucial adventure to retrieve the item of importance. Mr Puzzles has seen that classic set up a million times, but he'd never seen anything like this before. The television snatched the flower up and held it close, not letting it out of his sight this time.

"Those petals...they look just like the ones on this rose Mario gave me."

He ran his finger very gingerly over the pretty petals in observation, but his tone soon turned to annoyance and aggressiveness while his face glitched into a peeved expression.

"Mario..."

~

"Mario, how many goddamn times do I have to tell you!? CLEAN. UP. THE. KITCHEN."

Smg4 shoved a broom into the Italian's hands, pointing towards the stains all over the floor of none other than spaghetti sauce. "But Mario hates cleaning!" He whined as Four ignored his pleas and stated "Too bad! You caused this mess and you're going to clean it up! Understand?" Mario shrunk to the size of a Goomba and innocently nodded, scared of his best friend's anger. "Good! Don't leave this kitchen until it's sparkling!"

He slammed the door and Mario soon regained his normal size, sweeping while groaning "Mama mia...Mario didn't know Es-mg-4 hates cooking lessons." He kept sweeping sadly when he heard someone go "Psssst..." The noise made him jump, looking all around the room when another "Psssst..." was heard. For some reason, the plumber's first instinct was to look towards the sky and squint his eyes. "God...is that you?"

"No you half brained dimwit! Over here!" The voice whisper shouted. Mario raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the window, where Mr Puzzles was peeking out of. He had draped a dark hood over him and was gesturing the Italian to come closer. "Oh, it's you TV man! Want-a some spaghetti sauce?" He picked up a dirty wad of sauce off the floor that was crawling with bugs and germs. Mr Puzzles grimaced squeamishly and hissed "Shut it or you're gonna give us away! Just follow me!"

Apparently, the red plumber didn't find it suspicious in the slightest. It could have been a trap or a trick, but he just dropped the broom and said "Okie dokie!" The fat Italian hoisted himself on the windowsill and fell face first into the dirt. "Mario's all good!" He mumbled into the ground. Once he recovered from the drop, Mr Puzzles got right into his face abruptly, boiling with rage that caused the clumsy oaf to fall over once more.

"MARIO YOU PRETENTIOUS PERPETRATOR! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?"

Instantly believing he had done something wrong, Mario's eyes widened to saucers before he cried "No please! Mario didn't mean to leave the oven on!"

"What."

"Mario didn't know you have to change the dial!"

"I'm not here because of your inferior cooking skills."

Mario began to calm down, now in wonder and curiosity as he couldn't think of anything else he'd possibly done for Mr Puzzles to have beef with him. "Mario doesn't get it. Did he blow something up again yesterday?" The television had enough of these games as he gripped the Italian by the neck and shook him around while yelling

"STOP ACTING SO NAIVE! YOU GAVE ME THE CURSED ROSE AND NOW I'M GOING THROUGH THIS PARANORMAL SHIFT BECAUSE OF YOU!!!"

The flimsy plumber kept flailing his arms around for help until he stopped for a moment and slanted his eyebrow upwards in confusion. "What rose?"

"THE ONE YOU GAVE ME YESTERDAY THAT I TOOK HOME, AND IS NOW GLOWING, AND I SHOULD HAVE BURNED WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!!!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the thorny rose that was still shining with the most radiant shade of red.

"THAT ROSE!!!"

Mario leaned forward to see and smiled obliviously when he saw the familiar sight. "Ooooo lookie! It's Mario's flower!"

"THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO SAY THIS WHOLE TIME YOU INSOLENT-"

Halfway through his sentence, Mr Puzzles clutched his neck, feeling the same petals from the back of his throat. He dropped the Italian onto his back this time and ran over to the bushes, coughing more violently than this morning. An extreme worry came over Mario, something that snuffed out his usual idiotic antics whenever a close friend like Four or Meggy was in danger. But Puzzles was no friend. He was...an acquaintance. Still, the Italian ran over and rubbed his back in comfort, asking "Is TV man okie...?"

Mr Puzzles lifted his head to see velvety, crimson petals plastered over his screen and descending into the cool grass. The TV-headed man couldn't find the energy to be snappy with Mario anymore as he whispered sternly with a hint of sadness "Is this what you wanted? To see me suffer?" The plumber didn't really have a response to that. Instead, his eyes were locked onto the beautiful petals that were fluttering in the soft breeze. Finally, Mario spoke up.

"TV guy...these...these petals are the same color as Mario's hat!"

He took one between his fingers and held it up to his cap, showing the comparison. Mr Puzzles looked at him with a blank expression. He was hacking up flowers and Mario is worried about color similarities!? After staring aimlessly at each other for a while, the Italian stared down at the rose again and said "Ohhhhhh your flower matches too!" Puzzles wanted to slap him, but then his fury died down. "You're...You're telling the truth. You really have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" 

Mario shook his head and replied "Nop. But maybe Mario can help!" Thinking his situation was hopeless, Mr Puzzles curled into a ball and hugged his knees, pulling his hood tighter over his television box. "How can you help? My throat feels like it's literally dying and you were my only lead."

"Easy!" Mario pulled out some giant pliers and assured "Mario will yank that nasty weed out like a tooth!" No way was that going to be an option for Mr Puzzles as he screamed and covered his non-existent mouth in horror. "Keep those nasty things away from my beautiful screen!" The red plumber grumbled and threw the pliers off into the sky grudgingly.

Depresso was rummaging through the garbage cans on the other side of the Showgrounds and found a family of rats living inside. "Ah! Finally, somebody who will listen to my jokes!" Suddenly, he felt a dark shadow cast among him and he turned his head in confusion. Next thing he knew, the pliers jammed themselves through his head, causing the run down clown to run around, screaming aimlessly.

Mr Puzzles and Mario stared awkwardly at the violent scene until they shifted eye contact with one another again. The Italian threw on a nervous smile and innocently asked "Ha..ha..who did that?" The TV man rolled his eyes in displeasure and abruptly said "Is there any way you can help WITHOUT torturing me!?" He couldn't help but let out another loud cough with a little wheezing this time. Mario pondered that question with a lack of knowledge until a lightbulb went off in his head.

"Ooooo we can go to the game room!"

"And how the hell does some stupid video games solve my problem?"

"No silly! The computers! We can use them to search up TV guy's condition!"

Mr Puzzles tapped his chin and said "Y'know, that's actually not a bad idea." The offer brought a pleasant smile to his face, figuring out who or what the cause of this perplexing incident was. "Well then, lead on my dear boy!" He was about to put his best foot forward, but was then stopped when a certain big nosed Italian tugged on his hand, urging him about something.

"We can't just go in there willy nilly! Our a***** will get caught for sure! We'll have to get past...Smg4."

[junkydrawr]

Well, I thought I'd get back into posting some random Snively scenes. Honestly, I don't think I'll finish this rewrite but at least I have some stuff to keep posting.

Anyway, so the gist of this scene. Naugus has taken over leadership of Robotropolis at this point. He's been civil to Snively though and protects him from his uncle due to Naugus's contempt for Robotnik. King Acorn has been their prisoner for a while, and prior to Naugus taking over, Snively had planned to use him as bait to get Sonic and Sally. However, once Naugus took over, Snively decided out of spite (and to get Robotnik in trouble) to let King Acorn escape. So in this scene, Naugus finds out. TW for violence. And bad art. Heh.

“Useless cretin! I almost could believe you did this on purpose – that is how incompetent you are!” Naugus fired another crackling red bolt into the writhing man.

Robotnik let out a scream, his hand clutching at his blubbery chest.

Maybe his non-existent heart will give out. Snively pushed his hand harder to his mouth, but the giggles spilled out despite his efforts.

Robotnik's eyes rolled wildly towards the sound. "Master," he managed to croak. "It was him, it was him!" A jolt of red magic made him screech.

Naugus lowered his claw. "Why do you say this, Slave?"

"There was a glitch." Robotnik's voice was on the edge of a sob. "It's happened in the past. Cell doors glitching. Prisoners getting out. I always thought it was a fluke."

The giggles died in Snively's chest as the wizard's orange eyes settled on him.

Robotnik panted for breath, groaning as he sat back on his haunches. "Snively did it. He must have."

"Why would he?"

"I wouldn't," Snively kept his voice steely. "Why would I let Mobians escape? Especially the King?"

"You've always been soft on them," Robotnik snarled. "So many times, I saw it in your eyes. You didn't want to interrogate them."

Snively gave a scoffing laugh, rolled his eyes. "Please." Naugus was still appraising him and he couldn't help but shiver. "You're pathetic, Julian! Just trying to distract from your failure!"

The wizard nodded. "Indeed."

"Master, he's angry at me! He's angry at you!" The obese tyrant cringed as the claw raised again.

"No. Your incompetence allowed the King to escape." A blast of magic hit the man on the floor. Julian screeched and Snively swore he could smell burning hair, but Uncle's mustache looked fine. He often wondered...how much of the magic was just illusion?

Snively tried to resist a grin. He was unsuccessful. This is what you get for fucking with me, he mouthed behind Naugus's back.

The wizard ceased his torment, and put a wizened hand to his beard. "But. It is curious. That a door should just...glitch. Not just any door, but the one holding Maximilian and just when his kin was looking for him?"

The grin dropped as Naugus pivoted to face Snively.

"Don't you find that rather convenient timing, Small One?"

"It's just a glitch." Fuck. He hoped his damn voice wouldn't glitch. "They happen. The timing just happened to be unfortunate."

"Mmm. Perhaps. Or perhaps Slave's accusations are true."

Snively put an impatient edge into his voice. "What do I have to gain by letting the King go?"

Naugus smiled, gesturing loosely towards Julian, still hunched there on the floor. "The joy of watching your uncle suffer. I heard your impish giggling. You are angry too, that he tried to banish you into the Void."

"I don't have to create situations to make Uncle screw up. He does just fine on his own!"

Naugus clicked his claw and magic softly spun around it. The small man narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you dare raise your magic to me, you -"

The wizard laughed. "Dare? Small One, you are sorely mistaken about who is in charge. I thought I made this clear before."

Snively swallowed hard. Panic crawled in his gut. No, no. Don't let him see you sweat. But the familiar fear was sheeting his eyes, tunneling his vision, removing every bit of moisture from his mouth. "Apologies, Naugus! But I've done nothing, I swear -"

The claw raised. Red magic wafted his way, slow and insidious. He took a step back, his hands up like it would help.

It's an illusion, it's an illusion, it's not real, remember, it's not -

The magic wrapped him like the hand of a lava giant. Burning. He screwed his eyes shut, chanting inwardly. It's not real, it's not real, it's not real!

For a moment, the burning seemed to fade. His thoughts beating it back like cool water. But then the red increased, glowing through his eyelids, too much, and his body began to believe it. You're wrong, it said. It's real and it's burning!

His knees hit the ground and he let out a whimpering scream. "Stop it, Naugus!" He bit his lip, clutching his torso. You're not afire. You're fine. He wasn't hot. He wasn't burning. For a moment, the pain receded.

Naugus chuckled. And the blessed moment was over - a wave of firey pain took his breath away.

The mage calmly spoke. "Did you glitch the doors?"

"No," he choked. "Stop it!"

More magic engulfed him. He was in a cloud of it. Breathing in felt like acid. He gagged. Razor cuts opened all over his skin - or it felt like it.

"You are lying, Small One. Did you open the door?"

The pain increased and he moaned in misery. His thoughts of resistance went up in smoke. "A-a-all right. Yes. I did it!"

He panted for air as the pain disappeared, like it had never existed. It hadn't, he thought, even as his mouth continued to ramble. "But... but Julian still let him escape! That's not my f-f-fault!"

"That is true, but your childish tricks got him free of the cell. The fault is with both of you." He looked to Julian, who had regained his feet. "As such, I have been a bit harsh on you, Slave."

Robotnik scowled, watching as Snively got to his feet, brushing off his uniform.

The small man sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "And yet, had it been a true glitch, the outcome would've been the same. Julian's fail-"

"Enough!" rasped Naugus. "I warned you about your tricks, Snively!" His eyes settled on Robotnik and the bigger human cringed. "Allow me to remedy this, dear Slave."

The wizard gestured from Robotnik to Snively, his shark teeth glinting. "You have one minute to avenge yourself. Death excluded."

Snively's body stiffened. Blue eyes shot wide.

Robotnik stood dumbly, until Naugus chuckled. "Slave, do you choose to show mercy? 57 seconds remain."

Snively gaped at Naugus in shock. He's...he's throwing me to the wolves...?  But then Robotnik unfroze, and Snively moved too late to dodge the oncoming beast. Robotnik drooled, rabid, his hand grabbing the back of Snively's shirt and lifting him upwards. He just as swiftly threw him down again, his red boot colliding hard into Snively's ribs.

Snively rolled away, scrabbling to his feet. Robotnik slapped him hard. He staggered, feeling blood gush from his nose. "Securityb-" His sentence was lost as another slap rocked him from the other side. Stars flared in his vision and his knees hit the ground.

Julian dragged him up, panting in his perverse delight. His face came close. Foul breath and stiff mustache hair. Snively tried to wrench away, but even diminished, his uncle's grip was iron.

"You pathetic, worthless gnat. Beg for my mercy."

"F-f-fuck off!" Snively struggled, his eyes going wide as Robotnik swept him up in a headlock. With both hands free, Julian chuckled as he gripped Snively's wrist, the robotic hand clasping two of his fingers.

"No..." Snively again tried to wiggle free, his breath coming in hysterical gasps. Fuck no. He knew what was coming. "Naugus...!"

"30 seconds," was the wizard's response.

"Beg," Robotnik hissed in his ear. He twisted the fingers back.

Snively whimpered, kicking. "N-n-never, you bloated oaf!" He screamed as both fingers snapped. "Naugus...p-p-please!"

"Beg me, Nephew. Me." Robotnik whispered in his ear, his tongue touching cartilage. His body quivered in pleasure, jiggles through fat. "He can't save you. He'll never be able to save you..."

"19 seconds."

Julian threw him down. "Lick my boots, toad. Your future depends on it."

Snively bit his lip, sobbing behind his grit teeth. He shook his head, one hand groping in his pocket.

"Lick them!" Robotnik screamed.

"G-g-get stuffed, f-f-fatty."

A hard kick to the gut took his breath and voice away. His bladder voided itself, and he curled like a fetus. Robotnik roared, and Snively's finger found the remote in his pocket. He pressed its button, and Securitybot #002 reacted instantly. Flying to Julian, and cuffing him hard. Robotnik landed five feet away.

The small man struggled to his feet, attempting to flee. Robotnik lunged for him, raising his metal arm to ward off the Securitybot.

Snively froze in misstep. A red glow surrounded him, and he levitated. "Time is up," intoned Naugus. Robotnik snarled, caught in a similar standstill. "Issue any more blows, Slave, and you will answer to me."

A long breath expelled from Uncle, until a twisted smirk touched his lips. "Yes, Master."

Naugus lowered his claw, and Snively's boots touched ground once more. He slid down onto his haunches, gasping for breath. "Small One, your defiance is admirable. Turn it to our enemies. I will have no more tricks from you. Do you understand?"

He swallowed hard. Dizzy from the pain. "Yes, Naugus," he croaked.

"I'm afraid you have misspoke, little man. Yes, what?"

Another hard swallow. "Yes, M-m-master."

"Very good." Naugus sighed. "You may go to the medical ward for the remainder of this day and all of tomorrow. Now, leave my sight!"

Snively nodded, beckoning his bot to follow as he stumbled from the room.

-

Outside the command center, he implored his metal friend to carry him to the infirmary. This was becoming way too common lately.

Once there, the Medibots swarmed like bees around him.

"Back off, I'm not dying!" He snarled and stripped off his soiled clothes, throwing them in a heap. The head Medi beeped indignantly.

He climbed into the bed, resigning himself to their examinations. As their cold hands probed, his breath hitched and he put his uninjured hand to his face. Absurd! Crying again.

"Get a grip," he sniffled, wiping blood and snot away. "You act as if you've never been thrashed before."

But it wasn't the beating. It was the withdrawal of the wizard's protection. The sound of ice cracking under his feet. The vibrations still in his vocal cords...'Master.'

He watched the medibots prep the IVs. The wizard would be true to his word - Snively would be left alone for a day and a half. He could request sedative and extra pain relief. Let himself fade out.

...and awaken to what...?

'He'll never be able to save you...'

The IV needle stung his hand. The medibots were already prepping the sedative. They remembered his tantrum from last time.

He huddled in the bed, drawing the thin sheet over his naked body.

If I stay...I'll die here. There's nothing left....until I can kill them both, or the Freedom Fighters do...

How long will that be? Another 11 years?

His broken fingers were swollen and disgusting on top of the sheets. He swallowed hard and shivered, hiccuped a sob. Then he drew his arm over his face, scrubbing away tears and blood. His eyes, watering and sorrowful, hardened.

"Medibots. No sedative."

The head Medi accessed him. "It will relax you and help you rest."

"No need." Relaxing was for chumps. "Double the dose of nanites."

With that many nanites, his fingers would heal in a week and a half. His other injuries would be mere memories.

"Sir, a double dose will cause uncomfortable nausea, unsettled sleep and urinary pain."

"I don't bloody care! Do it!"

"Yes, sir."

He turned his gaze to Securitybot #002. His only friend.

Friend...to the end. He sank back into the fluffy pillows. He had the remainder of today to rest and recuperate.

And then, there would be no rest.

—-------

A/N: I've got most of Snively's escape from Robotropolis written so maybe I will post that next if anyone's interested. Considering I don't see myself finishing this rewrite, I don't feel the need to keep all the 'plot' (what little there is) hidden. Lol.