#hurting people

[daboyau]

I was watching lilo and stitch and that “you can never belong” scene came on and I got this idea in my head for that, but with ROTTMNT. So since I don’t do edits or draw, I wrote it out instead. Don’t think too hard about the logistics. :)

It is cold, when Leo slips out of the lair. He can feel Mikey’s gaze on him as he leaves, raising goosebumps over his flesh. He can’t bear to turn back, knowing that his resolve would crumble immediately if he did. His footsteps are too loud in the loneliness of the sewers. His heartbeat pounds in his head. He keeps expecting to hear a voice calling out for him, or the soft sound of footsteps following him. 

But of course it never comes. Mikey had been so hurt. So sad. Of course he wouldn’t follow him. 

When Leo finds a portal into the Hidden City, he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself through it despite the danger it puts him in to be there. The sounds and the sights are familiar to him, yet nowhere calls to him as loudly as the lair had. It’s only been two weeks since he was first brought into their home. They hadn’t even wanted him there, and yet the urge to go crawling back is so strong. He had messed everything up from the moment he’d manipulated his way into their lives. Of course they wouldn’t want him. 

(Why don’t they want him?)

Leo wanders the back alleys and the side streets, letting his feet guide him to nowhere in particular. The picture he had swiped on his way out of the lair is stored safely in the pouch tied around his waist, and between steps he’ll reach in to slide his fingertips over the stiff paper. Just to make sure it’s still there. It soothes him.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s far outside the city, tucked away in the scraggly rock forests that surround the Hidden City. The aching in his chest has turned into more of a twisting knife, the small knot of sadness becoming more like a gaping chasm. An open wound. A bottomless pit of longing and loneliness that he had never felt before he forced his way into the lives of the Hamatos. 

He hadn’t had anything to lose, before. He hadn’t known the kind of pain that loving something would bring. He wishes he could go back to not knowing. He wishes he could return to a life of never having to make the choice to walk away, to spare them all the pain his existence brings them. 

Leo settles on the ground, curling into himself, shoulders trembling under the weight of everything. When he closes his eyes, the image of Mikey’s face as Leo made his choice haunts him. Donnie’s quiet voice rings in his ears in the silence of the forest, you ruined everything, again and again. Raph’s soft squeeze on his shoulder lingers like a phantom. Leo trembles, tucking his knees to his chest. Then, he pulls the photo out. 

Raph, Donnie, and Mikey grin up at him. It’s almost mocking, how happy they look here. A reminder that they are better without him around. He hadn’t seen them smile like that since the first five minutes they’d found him, back before they learned the truth of how much of their lives he can ruin. 

He runs a careful finger over those smiles, then he squeezes his eyes shut and holds the photo against his chest. His throat burns, and the ache in his chest feels like a black hole that will swallow his body whole. He does his best to breathe through the pain and when he opens his eyes again, the light speckled ceiling overhead is blurry and indistinct. It reminds him of the stars they had taken him to see, wind tickling his skin as they sat on the rooftop of the tallest building of their strange human city and stared upwards at something beautiful.

“Lost,” he whispers to the open air, and he can almost imagine that single word floating upwards, towards the city and the sewers. Finding its way into the only place he’s ever found that might have one day held happiness. But only for him. Not for them. There was only danger if he stayed.

“I’m lost,” he repeats, words like some trouble confession, and hot tears roll down his cheeks.

Some small, selfish part of him hopes they’ll hear. He wants them to come for him, and to bring him back home. It is a stupid, foolish wish. It’s better for everyone that he stays gone. He can’t hurt them this way. 

He falls asleep with tears drying on his cheeks, and body curled tight around the only evidence he holds of a dream he knows can never be. 

When he wakes hours later, it’s to the sound of heavy footsteps over gravel. He jolts upright, heart pounding, eyes wide, and for one foolish, terrible moment he really believes that his family has come for him. 

But no. Of course not. When Draxum emerges with a weapon pointed at his head, Leo can’t find it within himself to feel surprised. He stares back blankly, shifting slowly to stand, halfway wishing that Draxum would just take the shot and get it over with. He doesn’t think he has the energy to raise a hand to defend himself. 

The gravel has left his legs peppered with indents and marks from where they’d pressed into his flesh as he slept. They sound like something breaking as they shift and crunch beneath his feet. Draxum’s eyes dart between those markings and Leo’s tear streaked face, before his expression twists into something complicated. Almost pitying. 

“Don’t run,” he says, voice low. If Leo hadn’t heard what true kindness sounds like these last couple weeks, he would have said that’s what he hears in Draxum’s tone. “Don’t make me hurt you. You were difficult to make. No need to ruin a perfectly acceptable specimen.”

Leo shuffles, eyes darting between Draxum and the stacked stones surrounding them. He makes a sound low in his throat, hurt and uncertain, but he does not bolt. Draxum smiles, already assured of his victory, and steps closer. Leo watches with wide eyes. 

“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” Draxum murmurs, careful and soft, like he’s trying to soothe a scared animal. “Come quietly.”

“I…I’m waiting,” Leo admits, and he watches Draxum’s brow crease. His head tips, curious. He’s not used to this side of his creation — quiet, yet resisting his orders. Leo shuffles a half step back, heart pounding so hard in his chest that he feels a little dizzy. 

“For what?”

“For…for my family.”

“Aahhh. There is no use in doing so. You don’t have one. I made you.” 

Leo shakes his head, hands trembling, photo creased from how tightly he is clutching it in his fist. The thought of ruining the only evidence he has hurts, but the fear of Draxum getting his hands on it, of him finding out about the others, it terrifies him in a way he’s never felt before. He can’t let Draxum know about them. 

“Maybe…maybe I could—“

“I don’t know what yokai fool you found, or what nonsense they’ve been filling your mind with, but banish the thought of family from your mind.” His voice has lost that careful, gentle farce. It is harsh and cutting now. A familiar sound that Leo had hoped he’d left behind forever when he ran away. “You are built to destroy. You can never belong. Now, come quietly and we can begin your reeducation once—no! No no, don’t run, don’t—!”

His voice fades as Leo darts through the towering stones, vines curling at his heels and snapping at his shell as Draxum tries to recapture him. The picture flutters from his fingertips as he trips, lost amongst the shadows of the stone forest. Leo sobs, but he does not turn back for it. It is better if it is lost; at least then, he may be able to move on. 

[burned0utstar]

Tw: kind of violent thoughts?

Is it so hard to text back? It's nit his fault, not at all, I have been angry for the past few years. Since I forgave I have had this rage deep inside of me.

But is it so fucking hard to text back? Why am I so angry at him? It's not healthy to imagine blood and teeth and tears of the ones you love caused by you.

I am just so angry. Not even really at him. He is not at fault. He is making me feel better I think? So why the fuck do I want to bash his head in and actually really hurt him?

I am a good person? I promise. I have never hurt anyone on purpose, so why are these images in my head?

Where does this anger come from and how can I let it go again? I can't keep living and burning like this.

[olliepurples]

the sexy brutale's portrayal of what disability is like is so wild.

you ask your good friend, as an architect wheelchair user, if you can build a lift into his mansion, both to give him more space in the basement, and generally as an accessibility feature.

he says "oh, yeah!!! sure man!!!"

and you say "great, where can i build this?"

and he says: "yeah, in the furnace!"

and you say "...hm?"

and he says "yeah man, just build it in the furnace!"

and you say "but won't i burn to death if anything goes wrong with the power?"

and he says "yeah, sorry...... yeah sorry the only place we could put it is the furnace...... sorry......"

and then he unlawful act manslaughters you in an entirely unrelated arson.

[amerasdreams]

Wounded pride is a very dangerous thing. Whether you're a country or a politician.

A narrative of victimhood when you're actually in a position to do a lot of damage.

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[silverspleen]

Every time I see that G--gle phone photoshop commercial my heart is filled with infinite sadness, like, yeah it's cool you can have a good family photo, it's cool you can do that, but god, there is something to be said for the honesty of a family photo where you're blinking, or crying, or have ugly wrinkles.

What is too unsightly for you? Would you swipe-click-replace out the image of my cousin crying on our Florida trip family reunion photo? Would you remove the plastic snake I have clenched in my grip, which I still have to this day? Would you scoff at the wrinkles around our eyes and the strands of hair on our faces as we squint into the wind, the day before the massive storm? Would I remember it if I didn't have these reminders, if the picture was perfect and clean, all children in a row with perfect gleaming white tombstone tooth smiles? No tears. No plastic snake.

Everyone is beautiful and no one looks genuine.

[greykolla-art]

My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

[zanmor]

We are well beyond canary in the coalmine warning levels with the way trans people and particularly trans women are treated on this site.

Maybe you've heard the metaphor of allowing wolves and sheep to share the same space, welcoming everyone. You end up with just wolves because allowing them in that space makes it unsafe for any sheep. Or the story about how a nazi goes into a dive bar and is refused service. The bartender then explains to someone else at the bar that if you serve them once they tell their friends and before you know it you're the nazi bar they all go to and normal customers don't feel safe.

Terfs and other bigots are seeing these targeted harassment campaigns succeed against trans women and rejoicing. They see Tumblr ban them and officially stand by those decisions as endorsement for their harassment. It's a sign to bigots across the internet that Tumblr is a good place for them.

And what's more is that a lot of us probably don't realize just how much trans women contribute to Tumblr. The women banned recently were sources of site-wide memes and posts I wasn't even aware originated from them.any years old memes and references can be traced back to trans women on this site.

How many of these folks have to be removed before this is no longer a site you want to be a part of it? Sure you cultivate your own experience, but you can't follow or interact with people who aren't here. And if I wanted to interact with the nazis and terfs I'd go to reddit.

I encourage everyone to reblog this. Trans women shouldn't have to be the only ones speaking out against the bigotry they're experiencing. They shouldn't be the only ones risking their blogs being nuked by staff. We have to stand with them.

[midnight-coffee94]

No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly

[cronchy-baguette]

When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

[voice-o-fallacy]

Heart, lungs, liver, nerves, heart, lungs, liver, nerves….

Time to combine two of my favorite games into one animation gif, at the cost of my poor neck…

[akanemnon]

I don't like this place. It's turning everyone edgy and sad.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[greelin]

six packs are soo scary and unnatural to me. Put that beast AWAY

[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

imagine getting twenty four hours of a fraction of a taste of what marginalized bloggers on this fucking site have been told "doesn't break TOS" for the past 15 years and deciding to openly threaten to just nuke the entire website lmfao

[chittychittyyangyang]

Listen, you should never film strangers in public without their consent, but I swear there need to be fines or something for people who do that shit in some spaces. For example: I had to go to the ER last night, and some jerk filmed a woman who just came in and was clearly having an asthma attack. She immediately got to go back, and he was unhappy about that. Believe me, I get that it sucks having to wait when you're in pain, but you don't get to pick who deserves care when. The medical system in the US is a nightmare, and the ER could be the worst moment of someone's life. No one deserves to be recorded because some jack ass believes someone doesn't look like they need care.

This is fine to reblog. People who film strangers should be shamed if nothing else.

[druid-for-hire]

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury