#mention of thoughts about suicide

[that-bloody-linguist]

I think this is inherently important to understand. I talk about this with my wife a lot.

She tells me that the world is unkind and makes her regret transitioning ever. And I understand. I see this with my two dumb eyeballs everyday and it makes me want to maul especially stupid individuals in cold blood.

And then she adds very quietly:

"If I had not transitioned, I would be dead by now."

And I understand that, too. It's a hard journey and everyone, who walks this path will always get my complete and utter respect for simply stepping up and doing it, despite all hindrances.

In the end, even if everybody you know leaves you, were they really worth to be around? All you can do is to keep moving and try to be kind to yourself, even if others are not. I admire her for going on. I admire that she left behind the "easy way out". And then I wonder, if I could have done the same in her place.

so much of the horror genre is informed by the metaphor of queer/transness as monstrousness. especially emphasizing the amount of horror that depends on the audience's repulsion at seeing a human body changing into a new, other body. I Saw the TV Glow is about the horror of NOT transitioning. the horror of static. the horror of looking into yourself and being terrified of what you see. the horror of seeing who you are and choosing to do nothing about it. the horror of looking away. and by god is it terrifying.

[beneathsilverstars]

this sucks so bad i want to [remembers suicide jokes only worsen your mental health] eat a star and transform into an abstract astral being, leaving both the horrors and the joys of my life to an alternative self while i pass the time napping under a tree

[triglycercule]

instead of nightmare approaching horror to recruit him for the gang i think it would be cooler if he talked to undyne about it. because she would not hesitate TWICE to ship horror off to fuck knows where in the multiverse

like booo booo boring horror would never cooperate and agree to join nightmare without him doing some extra work that he cant be bothered 2 do bc its doesn't benefit him enough 4 the effort put in. AND THAT METHOD DOESN'T EVEN GIVE HIM MORE NEGATIVITY!!!!! nonono the king deserves a show :3 so he goes to undyne who's the craziest of everyone in horrortale and yk yk does some stupid mind manipulation. maybe in exchange for horror he makes up some bullshit lie about how he could save alphys (is she even alive atp) or the rest of the underground and provide them food (like the same deal that nightmare WOULD offer horror) and undynes like 70x more fucked up than horror so of course she's accept in a heartbeat. shes the queen!!!! shes supposed to provide for her subjects (even tho shes kinda. erm. making them all suffer)!!!! and all it would take was a sacrifice of the guy she lowkey doesn't like??? undyne has more reason to accept a deal like that from nm than horror ever would. and it wouldnt be the first time she sacrificed horror anyways lol

idk she sends royal guards out to snatch up horror in the middle of the day (nightmare told her to make it dramatic and tense :3) (all of snowdin would probably follow in concern because OMG WHERE IS SANS GOING????) and then yeah. just like that horrors gone! nightmare probably didn't even give him a chance to say bye to paps. undyne never ends up getting the food nightmare promised because hes a bitchass like that (and papyrus probably ends up taking up the full leader role of food provider for snowdin (if undyne even lets snowdin stay out of her control) good luck for him!)

if horror had a nickel for everytime he got forced to be a sacrifice he'd have 2 nickels. which is actually 2 too much in his eye HES PISSED!!!!!! rightfully so become man ☹️ taken away from his world without even a choice or a reason (to his knowledge) or anything to benefit him??? and now hes STUCK in this disney movie castle with two freaks who look like him (what the FUCK) and then the most annoying THING he's ever had the misfortune of getting kidnapped by. he is in misery. it sucks. he IS infact bitter. if he ever came back to horrortale (which he literally would never get to without dying or losing his stolen eye) he would 500% commit anarchy and finally get rid of undynes annoying ass ‼️‼️

[messiahzzz]

the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

[furiousgoldfish]

I wrote a very pained, depressive and dark post, even maybe too dark for this blog, but I ultimately decided to publish it, just because this pain has always been invisible in me, and I want to be able to say something. If you're going to read it, there's a lot of mention of death and contemplation of suicide in it, and a lot of painful emotion. Maybe someone will resonate with it and find words to describe their own pain. I also want to note that even though every word of it is true, I am most of the time completely dissociated from this, I'm not actively thinking it, and it came out now because my parents are actively trying to find me and disrupting the life I've tried to make for myself.

What my parents did to me is worse than death, they erased me. When I escaped I didn't know who I was, I had no hope to survive, I didn't think I was worth anything, I felt ashamed to even exist. I was suicidal, i thought I'd be dead within a month even if I don't do it myself. I didn't think I had it in me to survive, to be alive, to be anything. I was a less than a ghost, I didn't even have memories to remember of who I once was because there was no warm memories, only violence, blame, guilt, shame, pain, terror. I was supposed to be a person, and they put me in a state where I knew nothing about being a person, only property and a target, it was my entire life. I was told I deserved this, I was a monster, there was never anything else that is correct to do to me, but hurt me. I thought it was my job to be endlessly harmed. They knew I was suicidal and didn't stop. The only reason I didn't kill myself was the dissociative disorder that functioned like a suicide prevention measure, I physically could not have done it because I have been split into pieces and one of the pieces prevented me from doing it. I would have died otherwise.

What would a quick violent death be compared to this? A fucking blessing. I was slowly tortured until I was willing to kill myself in order to end it. They didn't want to dirty their hands with my murder, they planned on torturing me until I did it to myself. I had an intense drive to survive despite everything, and even that was getting erased. My basic instincts were being erased by the amount of pain I was in. My personality was gone, I didn't even have a personality, it was all overwhelmed by pain and desperation to both survive and end it all, I walked trough life looking death in the face the entire time, it felt so close, so close to me, like it would claim me any second, but I had to stay stoic, calm, me staring down death had to be invisible, I couldn't let it show. It shouldn't have mattered to anyone what I was experiencing. I was torn between life and death, stuck in constant anticipation of it and it couldn't have mattered.

Take a person, any person, imagine them having a life, family, friends, interests, hobbies, desires, dreams, loved ones, support, community. Now imagine that same person isolated, everything stripped away from them, and them being hurt until they can no longer remember anything they wanted to live for. Even their basic instinct to survive is stripped frm them as pain is too large for them to be able to sustain themselves, there's no longer anything in this person's life worth living for, nothing they remember about who they were, no warm thought they can think about themselves, and they're repeatedly told they deserve this, they've wanted this. Until there's nothing of them left.

That was me, but from the start. I didn't get to experience having a life, family, loved ones, interests, dreams, community, or any of that first, I didn't get to know how it was to have any of that! From the very start it was pain and being told that this is all there is, and that I'm stupid for ever thinking there would be anything more to life, that it is in fact, only terror and death and I'm a weakling for not taking it better, everyone else is dealing with this just fine. Shame and guilt were the only traits I could have, I didn't know anything further about me. Nobody knew me because nobody saw me being abused. Nobody could know I was worthless, it had to be my private hell. I would have to live only to the point where it was decided that it was enough and I had to die, or until the point where I couldn't take it anymore and take my own life, even though I so strongly didn't want to, even that basic desire was tempered with and overwritten by pain.

Who would want a life like that? Life of not only being aware that nobody cares about you, but everyone around you is willing to inflict pain on you until you wish to die, but can't. Where crying and screaming is forbidden even when you can't breathe from the amount of pain you're in; you're not even allowed to cry out. You fight with yourself every day on how badly you want to die and why you can't, and it doesn't help, you get lost in magical thinking in order to escape from the hell you're in, but you're brutally reminded of it every time you interact with anyone, when they find you hiding under the bed and dreaming. You don't even know that you're supposed to have loved ones, be safe, be unharmed, that life is supposed to be different, that you're not alive only to be a target, that you're worth anything. You don't even know that you're supposed to have more freedom in life than to choose the manner and time of your death, this is all that's dealt to you. And now, live, see how far you can get before you die. Would anyone choose that? Would anyone decide to be born into a life like that? Wouldn't you choose not to exist at all rather than be put trough that? To be erased and then having to keep on living while thinking you in fact, deserve death, and should do it yourself, and you know if you do die, it won't matter, just like your life didn't? Because people around you regularly nearly kill you and then laugh about it like it was a funny joke? They humiliate you for how ugly you look close to death? You're scared that your last moment will be humiliation for how unseemly your corpse looks and you're hoping you'd be able to die alone, to not be berated as you're dying.

Death is nothing to me compared to this. Waiting to die is worse than death. Endless anticipation of pain is worse than death. Having everything about you erased by pain is worse. Not knowing anything about yourself except that you are incredibly shameful existence and that you need to feel guilty all of the time, is worse. Watching people around you receive care and warmth while you're stuck watching death in the face silently, pretending it's not happening, and trying to not have anyone's attention on yourself because someone noticing means more pain, more shame and guilt. It's worse. Kill me any fucking day. But this will always be worse. Every time I face the reality of my life I wish I had died in the womb, at childbirth, I wish I had died when I was 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, any time before I experienced all this. It would have been so much less pain. It would have been so much easier on me.

And I've already given up on ever having a place in anyone's heart, because at this point, I don't have it in me to make people love me. I have nothing about me that is other people find worth caring for, I made peace with it. There will be no loved ones, and thats fine. But at least then I should get to live my life alone the way I want it. I should find joy in being who I found I am, and doing what I want to do. I should get to do things that give me a little bit of pleasure and enjoyment, and I should be safe, and death should no longer come knocking at my door, staring me down like I owe it something. If I can't even have that, then to hell with everything. What is the fucking point of anything if all my life is a continued slow torture until I can no longer bear it. I have nobody to bear it for, nobody would be harmed by my death. But I also don't deserve to die, because I want to live, and this should be mine. Who the fuck dares to try and take this away from me again. I want to fucking explode. If I have to make my own justice then how do I do it. I literally just want to live. And I see other people having at least that much secured for them. Why can't I at least have that much. I am seriously asking for the bare fucking minimum.

[aphel1on]

so funny how gale pulls himself out of his suicidal slump purely by finding something new to unhealthily fixate on. just complete 180 immediate full steam ahead to the next unhinged idea. he sees that crown and goes Ok im not mentally ill anymore! 🥰 (is obviously still mentally ill. in a new and exciting way)

like people will complain about the lack of emotional resolution to the plotline and while i get it, to me that is a feature not a bug. my mans is not Emotionally Processing a fucking thing. this is the guy who had a year to brood in his tower and learned nothing. zero personal insights. act 3 gale is manically distracting himself from dealing with anything all whilst backsliding into hubris bc he is unable to comprehend a middle ground between Gods Specialest Boy and Gods Wretchedest Fool. i love him so much

[orange-orchard-system]

Fakeclaiming is easy because it feels like activism. It feels like protection.

Spotting a "faker" feels like you're doing something. It feels like you're protecting yourself, your community, by pointing at someone and saying "look, I have identified the enemy". You get to feel good that you have done something to help, and you get to feel good to see one of your enemies torn apart by your allies. It's based on a simple reward system for community.

The thing is, though, is that this community isn't solid, and this reward system is flawed.

If a primary way of protecting oneself is spotting fakers, then you're always on-guard, always looking for the enemy in your allies. You'll look for patterns where there may not be any, because you want a leg up on spotting the next of them; you want formulas to rely on – one to decide if someone is faking, and one to decide if someone is not. You want to make the process of protection as simple and easy as possible. And in turn, the easier it gets to "identity a faker", the more often you get that rush of spotting one, that camaraderie of tearing them apart with the "real ones". You have made it easier to justify hurting others, because you have made it easier to win that reward system. And yet, at the same time, because you must remain on-guard, you stress yourself over whether someone fits the formula(s) you have crafted. If all your enemies are fakers pretending to be allies, then you must be ready to turn on any of your allies and tear them apart, too. You must rely on this second formula; these rules you have enforced to decide who is real and who is not. You must not ever think about the process beyond how you can better improve your formulas.

There is no repeal, once a claim has been filed. There is only dogpiling and tearing them apart, demanding they apologize, delete their blog, kill themselves for "faking". They are the enemy, this is what has been declared, and you can tell because they plug into the formula. You can tell because they did something we don't approve of. You can tell because we have declared it true, and you must always believe us and never listen to the person we have been tearing apart, because you wouldn't want to risk defending the enemy, would you? Because...

Conveniently, people who speak out about this reward system are often automatically considered fakers, too. Because their voices are seen as defense of the enemy you have already branded, so they must be enemies too, right? I must now be your enemy for telling you the flaws in this system; in this community. Because only enemies to a community say there's something wrong with that community, don't they? They can't possibly be members of the community who want it to be (even) better. They can't possibly be real members of your community who you have plugged into an arbitrary formula that doesn't even make sense most of the time. They can't be people who have thought about this for two seconds and decided, "Actually, tearing people apart doesn't sound like a very moral action."

Fakeclaiming is a flawed reward system that depends on the idea that the main enemies of any community will always be trying to pretend to be them. Will always be wolves in sheep's clothing. And that the way to help your community – the way to get that rush of justice against your enemy – is to never truly trust your allies; to be prepared to hurt them at a moment's notice; to create formulas based on confirmation bias and plug people into them if they do something against the rules you have decided upon.

I'm aware this is scathing. That's the point. Fakeclaiming doesn't serve any productive purpose; all it does is give the same rush that hitting a child gives a parent.

I am also aware this will likely be used to make me out to be a "faker". An enemy. Very well, go right ahead. Anyone who would decide criticism about the way they go about harassing and tearing apart their own supposed "allies" is an act of "the enemy" is not someone I wish to associate with, so please do reveal yourselves, so that I may block you and move on with my life that does not involve hurting people for the rush it would give me but does involve thinking critically about accusations.

Fakeclaiming doesn't even help the community the way it's supposed to. Drop your formulas. There are better ways to help your community, like accepting our variance and differences, offering advice born from personal experience, and advocating for more awareness and acceptance in your everyday life. Go leave a positive comment on someone's post. Go make a positivity post. Be there for people. I believe you can do better, and make this community better, in turn.

[naamahdarling]

The "Get help!" hotline/warmline 988 211 "Help is available, reach out!" lip service paid to mental health, and the gross prioritization of physical survival and the uninjured body over the nuance and clinical inconvenience of a person genuinely struggling with the difficulty of a world that makes no room for them, is genuinely infuriating.

The unwillingness of the whole mental health field to acknowledge that thoughts of suicide and self-harm are understandable, common, and dare I say pretty fucking normal reactions to extreme situations, and to treat people as though the problem is that they are having these thoughts instead of treating people as though the problem is that they do not have actual material support in their lives, is utterly irresponsible.

Stop asking me about wrongthoughts and no-no naughty actions. Start asking whether I need someone to come fix my stove, sink, and dishwasher so I can cook.

I love my meds and my therapist has worked wonders, but I still desperately need someone to help me clean the house and guide me through legal paperwork that might protect me from Social Security when my father dies. Your outdated list of food banks is great. Now give me the name of a disability lawyer who works pro bono on anything other than applications and appeals.

If you want me to stop casually thinking about dying a dozen times a day, fucking help me live.

[helios-two]

cindy + studcoms compilation

[uncanny-tranny]

Something that actually helped me feel less suicidal was accepting that I will likely always be suicidal. That sounds counterproductive to some, but I felt so guilty about having it "so good," yet still being suicidal. I felt guilty for what I felt, and I felt selfish for going through so much and being affected by it in a stigmatized way. Now that I accepted this part of myself instead of shoving it away, I appreciate the things that make me want to live. I do want to live, but I also want to change my circumstances to make my life easier, even if it won't magically change my deeper feelings.

Sometimes, you will never stop being suicidal, and you know what? You are allowed to make your peace with that without stopping the emotions or without demonizing yourself or being demonized for it. This might not help everyone, but I always think offering different modes of thought and different ways of seeing to be beneficial in making sure we actually take care of suicidal people in non-stigmatizing and compassionate ways.

[mikashida]

u seem like u have a lot of wolverine headcanons pls ... 🤲

you've enabled my rambling just know that you did this to yourself. I do also wanna quickly disclaimer I've not read many of the x men let alone wolverine comics so idk how much of this *is* canon or has been mentioned, I was raised by people who thought comics were evil and would "Turn Me Gay" so I only got to watch the movies because obviously movies can't turn you gay (they did)

most of these are kinda depressing the only funny one is the first one

for like General Headcanons that would apply to all variants i 10000% believe the gruff gravelly voice is fake and he just Does That intentionally. I'm not saying his voice isn't deep but the whole like "ruruuuhughgh. im trhe best at what i do but what i do best aint very nice hnrnrghh..." is overplayed. so when he gets nervous or caught off guard his voice raises like at least half an octave. to illustrate what I mean here's a cutscene from the origins game

I also think he tries to drink to slow his healing factor and not necessarily to get buzzed. this is pretty much canon in Logan, but even outside of that canon he's very often been shown to at Least be fascinated by the idea of being mortally wounded if not genuinely suicidal at times and i imagine drinking consistently kinda fucks with that. like let's say he's physically harmed while intoxicated i figure it would probably hurt more/heal slower than it would if he was sober if that makes sense.

to continue with that i think he's tried to kill himself a lot and not in the funny way that deadpool does (like when he shoots himself in the game to get out of a conversation with colossus lmfao) (not saying that deadpool hasnt Genuinely tried to either though) probably doesn't bother anymore but imagine being like fuckin 20 years old and you cant die and you have So Much ptsd and no way to deal with it because its the fucking 1800s

i generally think his ptsd affects him a lot more than the movies and comics let on, which I understand because it's not easy to write when you don't have experience with it. I think it was written really well in deadpool and wolverine though, I am very tired of the perfect victim trope and I like that this logan is actually. kind of a horrible person (I have more headcanons about that but I will stop with this one). he failed his world and that made him the man that saved the universe, but that doesn't cancel out his wrongdoings, and now that he has people in his life again he has a responsibility to do better for those around him

tldr wolverine has issues and i want to make them worse

[theriverbeyond]

I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier // Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

[trillscienceofficer]

I've been crediting the way Chakotay dismisses B'Elanna's vision in “Barge of the Dead” mostly to the events of “The Fight” and how Chakotay was (understandably) afraid of the barrage of images from the depths of his mind, and how this fed into the fears he has about his grandfather's condition and his own predisposition to it. As a result, he is more diffident about helping other people assigning meaning to their visions, not trusting himself as he used to any longer. After rewatching “Mortal Coil” though I think Chakotay is, also understandably, very wary of validating anyone's mystical experiences (or lack thereof) surrounding death, because one such experience very nearly brought Neelix to suicide and Chakotay almost didn't realize it in time. The way B'Elanna's talks about her own vision can't not recall what Neelix went through, in Chakotay's mind; B'Elanna almost died, and now she feels like she needs to die again. Add to this the history B'Elanna has with self-harm and unnecessary risk-taking behavior from “Extreme Risk”, a history that Chakotay knows all too well, and his mind is made up. He cannot allow this to happen on his watch, especially not to B'Elanna, so he dismisses her recollection of the vision, he downplays it even if it comes across as him not accepting B'Elanna's culturally-informed perspective on her own experiences. In short, I think a mix of fear and guilt is what makes Chakotay unable to appreciate the difference between Neelix' nihilism and his loss of purpose and B'Elanna's longing for meaning and closure through ritual.

I don't think the Voyager writers thought this through as much as I am here, mind you. They likely just had Chakotay play the 'voice of reason' because they couldn't have Janeway doing it, or the parallelism between B'Elanna finding peace with (the memory of) her mother and B'Elanna's acceptance of Janeway's trust would have collapsed, making the episode less incisive. (We can also talk about how yet again the show paints Janeway as a mother figure, in my opinion the lowest-hanging fruit possible, but I digress.) That it sort of contradicts Chakotay's pre-established characterization and background was likely not a big consideration, which is unfortunate. However if we don't take the 'reset button' for granted, this behavior from Chakotay can be taken a sign of the way he changed throughout the show, even it's sort of negative character development. He's more afraid, and more rigid in his understanding of others than at the beginning of the journey, especially when it comes to B'Elanna. The years of survival on Voyager have taken a toll on him. I obviously still think he was wrong to dismiss B'Elanna and that the show needed to handle that conversation between them with a lot more care for both characters, but keeping “Mortal Coil” and “Extreme Risk” in mind definitely helps with lessening the sting of a scene that otherwise seems to come out of nowhere.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 29: Affective Science and Emotional Psychology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

"Well, I think that might be everything, so I should get going..."

"Here, let me help you with that!" Leo says with a snarky smile, his sword slashing the air and creating a portal beneath Agent Bishop, causing him to fall through. The last thing they hear is him yelping before he vanishes completely, the portal snapping closed with a spark of light.

"Leo!" Casey sputters. "Why -- what -- what was that for?!"

"What?" Leo asks nonchalantly with a shrug and smug smile. "I was only helping him get home."

"You just wanted him gone," Casey accuses.

"That, too."

"Leo!!"

"Oh, come ooooooon!" Leo groans, leaning against his katana. "What's the big deal? I don't know him yet, and until I know him better, I don't wanna trust him!"

"Leo, he literally just risked his life against superpowered bounty hunters to keep Mikey safe," Casey reminds him.

"Yeah, yeah...." Leo sighs, lifting the katanas again and sheathing them.

"Besides, I already told you guys we can trust him!" Casey reminds him. "Doesn't my word count for anything?"

"Yeah, but that was in an alternate future where things kinda went south," Leo says with a roll of his eyes. "So forgive me if I don't warm up to him so quickly."

"What is up with you?" Casey asks angrily. "You were never so bullheaded when you were the leader of the resistance --"

"Yeah, well, I'm not that guy." Leo's voice is stern and strong. Cold. Tired of going through the same conversation over and over again. "And we spoke about this. Several times. I don't think it's appropriate to talk about the future --"

Casey growls loudly and throws his hands up into the air.

"Rrrgh! You always say that! And I'm sick and tired of it!"

He jabs a finger into Leo's chest and pushes him back a step as he fumes with fury.

"Why won't you let me talk about my life?!"

"It's not just your life, Casey," Leo refutes, pushing his hand away. "It's... it's more than just that! It's our lives, too! And I don't want you to unintentionally weigh them down by telling them what happens to them --"

"You don't know that's how they'll react!" Casey argues. "And it's not like I'm going to just waltz up and start telling them how they'll die! It won't even happen anymore!"

"It's not just that, Mikey may never be the person he was before the double mutation! How do you think he'll react to hearing he was a mystic warrior when he doesn't even remember what his ninpo is?! Or Raph, you can barely even remember what he looked like in the future! What are you gonna tell him about his life?! You don't know that they'd be willing to hear that stuff!"

"It wasn't all a horror show!" Casey snarls. "My life wasn't a complete abomination! How would you know, you won't even hear about it! The others might not feel the same way you do!"

"But they might!" Leo yells back. "And I'm the leader, I have to make that kind of decision for everyone, and I say that --"

"THAT'S IT!" Casey screams. "I've been trying not to cause a scene or pick a fight, but I've had it! I've snapped, this is me snapping -- I'm gonna fight you on this now!! And you're gonna listen, got it?!"

Leo's goes wide-eyed with shock, his mouth opening and then closing as Casey continues to shout.

"I wanna talk about my life! I want to talk about my family! It's not fair that you ask me to not talk about that stuff!! It's my entire home, world, everything I ever cared about! I can't just sweep my whole life under the rug and pretend it never happened!"

Casey starts pacing as he spirals.

"You guys were everything to me! And it's not that I don't like you as you are now, I do, you're great and you're like a new family to me -- but you're not the family I grew up with! You're right, you're not my Sensei, and you'll never be him no matter how hard you try! He was a fierce, stoic leader of the apocalypse; he led armies and fought alien monsters everyday of his life and he only had one arm! You are not him, and no matter what happens, this world will never be the one I knew. So you will never be the Leo I knew. You'll never become my Sensei..."

Leo looks down at the ground sadly, hand reaching up and rubbing at his elbow. He looks guilty, if not a little sick to his stomach.

"...Casey, I --"

"And I get why you didn't want me to talk to them about the future, but what does it matter now?! It's never going to happen! I'll never see my family again! Why shouldn't I tell Donnie about all the amazing things he did and created?! Why shouldn't I tell Mikey about how cool he was and how he could fly?! And don't you think Raph would like to know that he was a respected hero?! Or that I should tell April that she was the most kick-butt commander and the youngest human to lead a frontline attack ever?! And don't you think I deserve a chance to ask my Mom questions about her life?! Do you know how crazy and weird this whole thing is for me?! DO YOU?!"

Leo flinches at Casey's volume.

"I... I'm sorry..."

"Dude, I am losing my MIND!" Casey screams, throwing his hands up in the air before wringing them through his hair. "Everyone treats me like the plague! They have no idea what to say to me, and I have no idea what to say to them! If I don't talk to someone about my life, about the things I did, or the people I loved and grew up with, I'm gonna explode! I can't just pretend that they didn't exist! I can't just pretend that my Sensei didn't exist!"

Leo looks pale, like he might puke. Something about the idea of 'not existing'... Casey doesn't notice though, and continues.

"And it HURTS! It hurts how I can't talk about them, about myself, about any of it!! And it wouldn't hurt so much if I could see them again, it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't know that they were totally gone! But they are now! I didn't even get a freaking choice about it, I was literally thrown into THIS WHOLE SITUATION and -- I have nothing anymore! No pictures, no family photos or letters or anything! My childhood home doesn't exist, my life doesn't exist, I MIGHT NOT EXIST NOW. Do you even know the existential dread I have about an alternate timeline me being born?! Everything about the future has changed, and..."

Casey's fists shake as hot tears streak down his bright red and infuriated cheeks.

"...and that means that I'll never, EVER see my family again. You can't be the Leonardo I knew. You never will be. He's dead and gone and erased from existence. And I'm stuck here with that knowledge. I love you guys, I really do, but... you'll never be what I want. You can never be the people I loved the most, and... I don't want you to be them. You can't replace them, and even if you could, I'd never want you to have to go through what they did to become who they became. I'm not asking for that, I don't want that, I just... I don't want to dishonor their memory by ignoring them. I don't want to forget them."

Casey heaves a hot and angry breath, grunting and growling before composing himself.

He stands there, glowering as Leo stands before him, frozen stiff. The two of them are still reeling from Casey's outburst. Finally, when it gets just awkward enough, Casey brings his eyes up to the leader.

"...Well? Don't you have something to say?" he asks, glaring at Leo.

He was ranting so much, he didn't even really look at him. Now he is.

Leo looks very, very small.

The slider refuses to meet Casey's eyes, simply holding himself sheepishly and looking very guilty. His head is slowly retracting into his shell. His forehead is wrinkled, his lips pursed and tight. His feet shuffle in the sand, moving back and forth as he tries to force himself to speak.

"...You're right," he mumbles. "Of course you're right. I... I had no just cause to make you stay quiet. It was totally unfair, and you should be able to talk about it. So... go ahead. You can talk about it."

Casey stares at Leo. He's... letting him win the argument? Why? He didn't yell that hard at him, did he? Leo kicks the sand as he continues.

"...I mean, I can't really stop you from talking about it anyways. You're your own dude, and I'm not your Sensei, like you said... I should never have asked that of you in the first place. I'm sorry."

Casey feels uneasy about this. Yes, he's relieved he got what he wanted, but something in the way Leo is taking this... rolling over and acting all wounded and weird. Giving up and giving in too easily.

Leo isn't like this.

He's cocky and confident and stubborn.

What's going on?

"Leo --"

"A-and I'm sorry," Leo continues, voice cracking slightly. "I'm really sorry for everything you had to put up with and all the stupid stuff I put you through, and --"

"Leo, wait, I --" Casey tries again.

"I just didn't want to freak them out over the whole 'dying in awful ways' part of the future, but since that's not going to happen anymore, and... who knows, maybe they'll take it better than I did, I mean... i-it wasn't their fault, and --"

"Wait, what do you mean 'their fault'?" Casey questions.

Leo finally looks at him. Casey can see the strain in his eyes from how he's trying to keep from crying.

".....Nothing. F-forget I mentioned it," Leo mutters, turning to walk away.

"No, wait," Casey says, grabbing his arm and tugging him back. "I got a chance to yell, now you should too. What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

Leo doesn't look back at Casey.

"I don't have anything to say. You're right. I was wrong. End of story."

His lips curl and he pulls his arm away.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Casey. I never meant to hurt you, I just... I don't know..."

"Neither do I. What's going on with you?" Casey asks.

Leo doesn't respond, apart from a sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He takes one of the katanas and slices a portal open.

"....I think maybe I should just go. I.... I need to be alone."

Leo steps through the portal, and Casey hears him mutter under his breath.

"...it would probably be better for everyone if I just left, anyways..."

Casey yelps in protest, but Leo vanishes before he can get him to stay and talk it out.

He grumbles. Why can't Leo ever just listen?

No, he did listen. That's not the problem.

The problem is he won't talk.

....Maybe he and his Sensei are more alike than he thought...

.

.

.

Casey peeks around the corner and watches as his Sensei is getting patched up by his twin, 'Uncle Tello.' The purple-clad turtle mutant grumbles as he pulls items from his all-purpose overalls and adjusts Leo's prosthetic arm.

"And how long has it been acting up like this?" Donatello asks.

"Not that long," Leonardo says, clearly lying through his teeth.

"Leo. How long."

"Um.... maybe.... a month?"

Donatello smacks Leonardo upside the head.

He growls as he pulls the arm off of his brother's shoulder, revealing a long halo of rust and torn flesh from where the metal in the robot arm has been digging and scraping.

"....Leo."

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I have to tell you that this is not satisfactory."

Leonardo chuckles.

"Heh heh, yeah... I figured."

"Did you know how bad it was?" Uncle Tello asks him, though the question is so laced with irritation that it sounds more like an interrogation.

"Sort of." Leonardo shuffles in his seat on Uncle Tello's desk. "I knew it hurt, and that it needed repairs... but, uh..."

Leonardo tilts his head to get a better look at the wounds.

"Yeah, that's pretty gross. Sorry, hermano."

Donatello grumbles and gags as he cleans the injuries and disinfects them. Everyone knows that Donatello prefers machines to humans, and Leo is the medic of the two. Donatello hates the sight of blood. He gags again as he scrapes the dried blood off of Leonardo's arm stub and cleans it with antibiotics and antibacterials.

"You know, this is how you get tetanus or septicaemia or --"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it Dee..."

"I don't think you do. Something like blood poisoning in the apocalypse is not to be taken lightly, 'hermano'. And this is the third time you've stalled on coming to me for repairs. What's wrong?"

Casey sees his fearless leader hang his head in shame before covering it with his non-robot hand.

"I just... I knew we were low on supplies, and didn't want to bother you."

Uncle Tello looks at Leonardo with an expression Casey Jones Jr. cannot name. Regret? Anger? Confusion? Sadness? Maybe all at once? Donatello is never easy to read. But there is a hint of understanding in his eyes as his brow furrows a bit more.

"...Is this about --" he pauses, swallowing before whispering the rest, just quiet enough so that Casey has to strain to hear the words. "Is this about what happened with Raph?"

"Maybe," Leo whimpers. "...Yeah."

"That wasn't your fault. He was just too injured, and... there wasn't anything we could do for him."

Leonardo grips onto Donatello and cries into his overalls. Donatello holds him and rubs his scarred shell.

"But if you'd had the supplies you needed -- If I hadn't taken the last of it for my arm --"

"Leo, you went on a three-day trek by yourself to try and save him."

Leonardo looks up at Donatello. He's trembling. Uncle Tello rolls his eyes and pats him on the back, a mechanical arm reaching out to hand him a tissue. Leonardo chuckles as he takes it.

"...Why haven't you said anything about this? Why didn't you tell anyone you felt this way?"

"There's more important things in this war than my regret," Leo mumbles.

Uncle Tello raises a drawn-on eyebrow.

"That's dum-dum talk. And you know it."

"Donnie, I'm serious. They need me to be a strong and stoic leader, and I don't have time to just sit around moping --"

"And you think we have time for this kind of thing? Where you refuse to address what's wrong and you let it fester until you end up fainting after a meeting because the pain from your prosthetic was too much?"

Leonardo stays silent.

"...Kick a mutant while he's down, why don't ya."

Donatello huffs an exasperated sigh.

"I don't want you to end up like Raph. You need to tell me if something is wrong. If not me, then Dr. Feelings."

"Pizza Supreme, no," Leo jokes. "I'll try to do better."

"You'd better."

Leonardo chuckles as Donatello finishes with the bandages on his stub and shoulder, then moves onto the prosthetic. Casey continues to watch nervously from around the corner until his Sensei turns and sees him. He smiles and motions for him to come forward. CJ climbs up to sit on his lap and stares up at his Sensei.

He looks so much older than he really is. His tattered and worn mask has tear stains and wrinkles. He's pale and tired. Casey hugs him, hoping the hug will help him to feel better. It's what Master Michelangelo would do. He vaguely recalls Raphael hugging him as well.

Sensei Leonardo hugs him back, rubbing his hand over his spine. Everything will be fine, he'll get better and he won't cry as much because the world is not lost and it may be sad, but everything will work out.

Casey hugs his dad tighter.

.

.

.

Raph relaxes happily, watching as Donnie builds a miniature civilization in sand. Mikey had run up a few minutes earlier and asked to join in the fun. Don had reluctantly allowed Mikey to assist, gathering water and mixing it with sand. He was having a fun time playing with the muck and splashing it around before passing handfuls to Donatello, who used it like brick and mortar in his tiny colony.

Raph smiles every time Mikey cackles with his sensory beach sludge entertainment. He smiles when Donatello finishes a new house and in self-congratulation throws his head back and yells 'I've done it again!' like a mad scientist before calming and moving on to the next one. He smiles when Mikey finds pebbles and shells in the sand and offers to help decorate a few of the buildings, which Donatello agrees to. Mikey's sense of colour and design is still on point, and his additions to the homes make the tiny kingdom the envy of the world. He even uses his claws to create delicate and intricate indented drawings and designs on the walls, like vines climbing up the castle towers or brick patterns or flowers or stars. The two work in tandem to make the town a masterpiece.

Even though the trip was unplanned, everyone is enjoying it immensely. April promised to come down today after classes. Cassandra suggested that she might also hang out after a mission taking down another sub-par plot from the Foot Clan. He hopes they can make it. April loves the sun and sand and surf; and while Raph isn't sure how Cass feels about it, he thinks that she could use a nice rest and vacay.

At the very least, he's glad that his brothers are enjoying it!

"...Raph! Raph!"

...He didn't just jinx it all, did he?

Raphael turns to see Casey Jr. running up to him.

Mikey sees Casey running and whistles a chirp at him to say 'hello'.

Donatello waves a mechanical arm at him in greeting.

"What's up, CJ?" Raph asks with a smile.

"Rrrracing again?" Mikey asks.

"No, no... I was just... I need to talk to Raph..."

He turns to Raphael and speaks in a much quieter tone.

"Something's off with Leo," he pants. "I... I just had an argument with him..."

"That's not out of the ordinary," Raph jokes halfheartedly.

He regrets the joke immediately when Donnie glares up at him.

Donnie told Raph about the many times he and Mikey had been forced to listen to their screaming matches. And before his mutation, Mikey had also sort of more-or-less-very-vaguely-so-as-not-to-worry him-mentioned to Raph that their arguments may or may not have caused a few restless sleeps and nights where Mikey would just cry himself to bed. He didn't say that exactly, and he wouldn't outright admit it, but Raph had long since learned to read between the lines. He is fairly certain that Mikey couldn't even remember that conversation now, much less the many arguments he'd overheard before the invasion. Raph secretly hopes that is one thing he'll never recall...

"This was different," Casey remarks. "It wasn't even a fight, it was more of just me yelling and Leo simply taking it. He didn't fight back. He didn't even really say anything."

"What did you argue about?" Raph asks, concern growing.

"Just... the same old stuff," Casey mumbles. "I was mad because he didn't want me to talk to you guys about the future."

"Why not?" Raph is sure he already knows the answer.

"He thought that knowing how things ended for everyone would kind of... mess you up."

Casey sighs.

"Saying it out loud... it makes sense. But, not everything that happened was bad! A lot of it was just... hiding in bunkers and hanging out. Movie nights. Scouting."

Raph nods slowly. He knows that the future was scary, but even still... Casey shouldn't bottle it up. He might overshare and trauma-dump on occasions, but that's common for people who have been through a lot.

"So, what did Leo say?" Raph inquires.

"He said I could talk about it with you guys now."

"Just like that?" Raph asks, surprised.

Leo had -- in an inebriated state from the painkillers -- told Raph a Cliffnotes version of what Casey had told him. Everyone dies fighting the Krang. He knew that was why Leo had sacrificed himself, and he knew that was why he'd asked Casey Jr. not to bring that stuff up again.

"Just like that," Casey nods. "He was mostly quiet, and took it like a sad puppy. And then when I asked him if he had anything to say about it... he just went on a rambling apology. I've never seen him so... I don't even know what word to use. Remorseful, maybe?"

As much as Raph is glad that Leo had relented with CJ... This didn't sound like something he'd do. At least, he wouldn't be so meek about it! Casey is right, something must be off.

"Where did he go?" Raph asks.

"He portaled away. He said he wanted to be alone, and then... something about 'it being better for everyone' or something."

Raph immediately gets up.

"Donnie."

Donatello looks up from his architecture.

"Raph," he answers, matching the tone but with no seriousness behind it.

"Where's Leo's tracker?" Raph urges.

Donnie looks down at his wrist and mutters.

"Good news, he's somewhere on the island. It looks like he's near the north side. His altitude is inclining, so I suspect that he is climbing up the mountain."

Raph nods.

"Okay. Can you give me your wrist tech so I can track him?"

Donnie scoffs.

"As if I would let you touch something so precious that by this point it counts as a part of my person!"

Raph growls low.

"But I can send you a link to the tracking program."

Donnie taps away for a moment before a ping on Raph's phone lets him know that he now has access to at least Leo's tracker. Raphael nods with a grunt to let Donnie know he got it, and walks towards the beach.

"Sh-should I come with?" Casey asks, cautiously stepping after him.

"Nah, Raph's got this," he replies, waving a hand nonchalantly at him. "I'll call if something's up. But I get the feeling this is a brother situation."

Mikey turns to see him go and churrs. Raph pats him on the head to assure that everything is okay before going through the rainbow archway and trekking into the jungle.

.

.

.

Raph wanders across the wooded lands, following the tracker. The glowing blue image of his younger brother's face travels in circles around the center of the island. It takes Raphael longer than he'd like to admit to realize that he's climbing a looping path around the mountain and not just playing ring-around-the-rosie with the ginormous hill. Raph passes a troop of monkeys that hoot at him as he walks through their territory. Leo's icon continues to go around and around and around. Raphael gets tired of walking and wonders if he's even going in the right direction. He climbs a tree to get a better view. While climbing up he meets a family of toucans. One squawks loudly at him.

"Pardon me, folks," he says before continuing upwards.

Raph looks past the branches and sees the lay of the land. He can clearly see the island's dormant volcano, tall and towering into the sky. He spots something like a ledge around it, several cliffs that bunch together and lead upwards. He wonders if he could see Leo climbing it...

Nope. Can't see jack squat. Especially with his eye...

Raph climbs down and heads toward the volcano. After an hour or so, his phone chimes. Leo's icon has halted on the mountain trail, off-center towards the north-east.

The icon doesn't move from there, it stays stationary. Raph is curious, but relieved that he doesn't have to chase Leo all over the island.

He keeps going for the mountain, traversing across canyons, rivers, a lake here and there, sand pits, tropical gardens with flowers he's never seen before and spiders that almost look as big as Big Mama and snakes that are long and fat and could probably swallow him whole.

Oh, and a few more monkeys. Man, this island is really populated.

Raph eventually makes it to the volcano, and starts climbing up the cliffside before finding a rocky pathway that leads near to the top.

He walks along the path, rounding the mountain for quite a while. He wonders why Leo just walked along this path rather than portaling to the top. It's so boring and arduous...

And quiet.

Raph finds himself thinking about things, enjoying the peace and contemplating the events of the day, the week, the month, the year. It's calm, and he can almost hear his own thoughts as he continues to walk. At some point, he realizes that the reason he can hear his thoughts is because he's been talking to himself, making company with his own voice as he tries to entertain his mind. He talks about everything that's been on his mind, from the latest issue of Jupiter Jim, to worrying over Mikey. It's somewhat therapeutic, actually, getting to be alone and think things through...

Oh. So this is why Leo walked instead of portaling.

Raph is about to die of exhaustion and boredom when he turns a curve and sees a ledge leading out, overlooking the island.

Leo sits on the edge of the cliff, chin resting on his knee as his mask tails float calmly in the breeze.

"Hey, Leo."

The slider turns slowly, movements somewhat sluggish and melancholic. He feigns a smile.

"Hey. I saw you coming up."

"Mind if I sit?" Raph requests.

"It's a free island," Leo shrugs.

"Good, cuz' Raph's about to pass out," the snapping turtle gasps, slumping besides his red-eared slider brother as he works to catch his breath.

He waits in silence for Leo to say something. Leo's always the one to start a conversation, just like how he's always the one to try and have the last word.

But Leo is quiet. That's not a good sign.

Raph looks over at him. He looks kind of like how he did during the first month post-Krang.

Tired. Emotionless. You could almost mistake his demeanour for serenity, but he's separated from the others. Casey probably picked the perfect word. Remorseful. Something is holding him back.

"You okay?" Raph asks.

Leo had apparently been zoning out, and jumps a little at Raphael's voice.

"Yeah. Well... no. I mean..."

He turns to look at his brother.

"I don't know, actually. Physically, I'm fine. But mentally, emotionally? I'm not sure what to say."

"Well, start simple. Are these good feelings or bad ones?"

Leo looks away, concentrating on the ocean before them.

"...Probably bad."

"Oh. Wanna talk about it?"

Leo smiles a bit before bringing his dangling leg up from over the edge, burying half of his face behind his knees and wrapping his arms around them, attempting to bundle himself together.

"Casey talked to you, didn't he?"

"Yeah. He said you guys had a spat."

Leo chuckles.

"You could say that."

"He said you were acting strange after. I just wanted to check up on ya."

Raphael places a hand on Leo's back, scooting in a bit closer.

"You can tell me about what's bothering you. I'm here to listen."

Leo glances out of the corner of his eyes to look at Raph. His brother smiles at him, trying to make him feel safe and comfortable.

"...I guess I felt badly. About what I put Casey through. And I started thinking about what I put everyone through, and then he mentioned that I'll never be the Leo he knew, and... he's right. And it's stupid, because it will never happen, but... I'm terrified of what he would say if he saw me."

"Who? Casey's Leo?" Raph asks.

"Yeah I know, it's a dumb 'what-if', but I'm scared all the same. He was this huge monument, the king of the end of the world, a hero and an inspiration, yadda yadda yadda, more apocalypse propaganda. But I'm the guy who almost doomed humanity. I'm the guy that was so stupid and cocky that I got you captured. The brother that got Mikey and Donnie trapped in a tunnel with a monster train. The leader that brought the key to the Krang. I'm --"

"Okay, I get it," Raph says, stopping him from continuing. "But Leo, that wasn't your fault. You didn't know what that thing was, you couldn't have! You ain't psychic, and you did your best."

Raph sighs.

"...And part of it's my fault too, I pushed you too hard. I gave you the wrong idea about what being a 'hero' means. I just wanted you to take things a little more seriously and be responsible, but you just sacrificed yourself! That was a selfless thing to do, sure, and maybe you were just trying to take responsibility for us, but I never meant..."

He pauses, thinking maybe he stumbled across something he didn't mean to when Leo starts crying. Raph panics.

"Leo? What? What did I say?"

Leo can't speak for a moment, and Raph holds him close. Leo just shakes, crying into his big brother for what feels like an eternity. Raph can feel him holding in the sobs, desperately catching his breath to force out a meager sentence.

"...I ...I thought I was gonna die..."

Raph nods, stroking Leo's shell in long strides to soothe him. He knows that Leo knew what he was getting himself into. He knows Leo understood what being trapped in the Prison Dimension with the Krang Prime meant. He knows Leo knew that his sacrifice was just that, a sacrifice. He knows what Leo thought was going to happen.

"...I wanted it."

Raph stops. His hands freeze in place, his breathing halts, his head goes numb. He slowly looks down at Leo, shaking and sobbing in his arms.

"I... I wanted it to end. At first I expected it, I was just waiting for it to happen... I kept waiting. But... then I almost begged him for it! Because it just hurt and hurt and hurt, a-and --"

Raph is trying to calm him down, stroking Leo's head gently.

"Leo, that's not --"

"And I thought about the hurt I put you through! How much trouble I cause, how many times my stupid ego got in the way, and -- and I'm sorry!"

Leo wails, clinging onto Raph as tight as he can, afraid that if he lets his brother go he'll leave him like the sorry, pathetic, wretched little pest that he is.

"I'm so sorry! I'll always be sorry, I know I screwed it all up, I know I failed, I know I -- I know, and I'm sorry, I'm just -- just -- sorry..."

To Leo's surprise, Raphael pulls him even closer, matching his tight embrace. Raph's tail curls around them both. Leo can hardly catch his breath, but he's grateful for the tight hold that Raph has him in. It grounds him, it keeps him safe, he can't think about the infinite failures and the monsters waiting for him in the Prison Dimension if Raphael is protecting him like this.

"I wanted to... to make up for what happened.... I hoped that... that maybe it would..."

"No."

Raph squeezes him tighter, forcing him to stop.

"No. No. That wouldn't... Leo, how could you even think...?"

"I thought you'd all be better off without me--" Leo whimpers.

"No!" Raph says again, pulling Leo away from his chest.

Leo whines, trying to get back into the embrace, wanting to have his brother's comfort but afraid to see his face or meet his eyes.

"I just -- I hate myself, Raph," he admits. "I just hate everything about myself. I hate what I do to this family, I hate the kind of leader I am, I hate how I can never be real and always make stupid corny jokes, I hate how scared I always am, I hate it, I hate me, I hate --"

"Leo," Raph says, lowering his head to try and get him to meet his eyes. "I don't know how to make you understand, but I love everything you hate about yourself."

Leo stares up at him.

"Sure, you being scared sucks, but everyone gets scared."

"I feel like I'm scared all the time, now..."

"I can help you with that. And I may be self-projecting here, but I think the fear you have now is mostly just about us and your role as leader, right?"

Leo nods, bowing his head low as he rests it against Raph's chest.

"You love your family and you care about them," Raph continues. "You're smart and you see every angle. That's what makes you a great leader. I love the kind of leader you are. I really do. I was never really that good at being leader --"

"You were a great leader!" Leo counters.

"And so are you," Raph smiles. "I was terrified as leader, and usually I ended up causing all kinds of problems. Remember the hippo costume? The F.A.B. four? Or how I had us trust Big Mama? Or any of the other countless times I screwed up?"

Leo chuckles softly.

"Point made. But Raph --" Leo looks up at him, eyes wet and sparkling, "I really did like you as leader. You fit the role better than I ever could."

"But Pops chose you to be the leader. And I honestly have to agree with him. You might not like it, but you have the head for it."

Leo sighs and nuzzles against Raph's chest. His older brother rocks him back and forth as he continues.

"And I love your jokes too, man. You always crack me up, and you make even the scariest situations seem normal. Maybe it's not the best coping mechanism, but definitely not the worst. And for real, your jokes are hilarious, not stupid."

Raph feels Leo smile a little against his plastron. He can also feel tears streaming down Leo's face.

"And Leo. This family would be nothing without you."

"But --"

"Ah-ah-ah!" He stops Leo before he can argue the fact. "NOTHING. Without you. I mean that. You've saved our skins countless times. You take charge in ways I never could when I was leader. Our bros listen to you, dude. And beyond being a leader, we love you because you're our brother. And even beyond that, we will always love you because you are our Leo."

"But, Raph..."

Leo reaches up and traces the crack in his plastron, the hole in his shell. The scars under his mask.

"...Your eye..."

"It'll heal," he says with a smile. "And it was not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for something that was not your fault and start seeing yourself the way I do. Leo, I wouldn't even BE HERE if it weren't for you! You pulled me out of the Krang, you got me back to normal! You got me home."

Leo looks up at him, eyes searching for anything to say that Raph is insincere, or hiding some anger or blame. He could search for eternity. He'd never find anything other than love.

Leo bursts into tears and wraps himself around Raph again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so so so sosososososo so sorry.....!"

"I know, bud."

Raphael holds Leo close.

"I know you're sorry... But I love you too much to let you stay in these thoughts. Tell me what I have to do to help, and I will."

Leo is quiet for a moment before looking up at him with a pout.

"Carry me back?"

Raph laughs as he picks Leo up and carries him on his shoulders back down the mountain.

"Sure thing, bud. So long as you fight those intrusive thoughts, okay?"

Leo nods, hugging Raph again.

"Whatever you say, leader."

"I'm serious. I don't like the way you've been treating yourself."

"I'm not exactly having the time of my life about it, either."

"Leo," Raph scolds.

"Sorry, but you said you liked my jokes!"

"Yeah, yeah," Raph chuckles, hopping over a light crevice in the path. "But for real, we gotta work on this. You need to stop beating yourself up and cut yourself some slack. If you can forgive me for everything stupid I did when I was leader, and for all the hurt I caused when I was krangified, then why can't you forgive yourself?"

Leo pauses, wrapping his arms under Raph's chin and resting his cheek on his face. He thinks it over.

"...I dunno. I guess I should, but I feel like hold myself to a different standard than you guys. I can forgive you because I know you never meant anything cruel or bad."

"And you didn't either, right?" Raph questions.

"That's the thing," Leo sighs. "I don't really mean any malice behind my dumb decisions, but I know every reason for those decisions. I can't give myself the benefit of the doubt or any grace for what happened because I know every dark detail. Even if it isn't a big thing, even if it's just a stupid mistake, like I spilled the milk or something. I still should have known better. I expect better. I can't control what you guys do, but I can control what I do, so that means I should be better about everything."

Leo pouts.

"And I'm not."

"Leo, you've only been leader for maybe a year and a half by this point," Raph reminds him. "And you had to fight a whole alien invasion, and you're only sixteen. Most sixteen year olds just have to worry about their drivers' exam, not stopping a war or battling mutants!"

Leo sighs.

"I guess you're right... but I can't really help feeling this way."

"You gotta get out of your head, man."

"I know," Leo mopes. "I just... don't know how."

"I'll help you figure it out," Raph promises. "We all will."

.

.

.

Casey paces across the sandy shores, walking along the waters' edge. The waves creep up and try to attack his feet, but he steps out of the way before they can get to him. He's been pacing for a while. Raph hasn't come back yet. Leo hasn't come back yet. Every ten minutes, Casey would ask to see the tracker and would check on them. After the seventeenth time, though, Donnie got sick of it and sent him a link to the trackers as well.

Casey looks down at the tracker on his phone again.

The two had finally met up and paused at one location for a long time before leaving together down the mountain. It looks like they finally reached the bottom, and are trekking out of the jungles.

Casey paces again.

The tide laps up and tries to get his toes. Casey steps out of the way. The tide retreats.

Casey paces.

He shouldn't have gotten so mad. He shouldn't have yelled. He didn't mean to make such a mess...

Casey avoids the waves again and watches them slide back into the water.

Casey doesn't pace. He watches.

The waters bubble and foam, tiny tides folding over each other and spilling into one another. They float back and forth, getting closer with each wave. They leave traces of the foam and bubbles in the sand as they recede. Tiny clams or sand crabs are revealed as the water erodes the gravel, but they crawl back under the sand quickly to be hidden away again before a bird can get them. Tiny fish with silver scales swim in schools in the deeper areas of the water. The waves crash again, coming closer to attack his feet.

This time, he lets them.

The water runs over his sandals. It's a little cold, but not uncomfortable. The foam covers his toes, grit gets stuck under his feet, a stray strand of seaweed wraps around his ankle. He sinks in a little as the waves drag trace amounts of the sand out from under his shoes.

Casey hears a rustling from behind him, and Raphael saunters out with Leonardo climbing off of his shoulders.

They're talking, smiling. Though Leo looks exhausted.

Casey runs up to the duo.

"Raph! Leo!"

Raph turns and waves him down, smiling brightly. Leo shrinks and looks guilty again.

Casey slows and fidgets with his hands as he approaches them, unsure of what to say. Raph turns to see Leo hiding behind him and breathes loudly through his nose. He turns back to Casey, and rolls his eyes at the awkward tension in the air. This won't do. He pulls Casey a little closer and directs him to Leo.

"We talked. Now you two talk. Patch things up. Leo, don't hold back. He needs to know. When you two are done, come and find us so we can talk it over with Donnie and Mikey and Pops --"

"I-I don't want Mikey to know yet," Leo whispers. "He's already got enough on his mind, and I doubt he'd understand... I don't want him to worry."

Raph stares him down.

"Fine. That's your call. But Donnie and Pops should know. And I think we should also tell April too, but that's your decision. She'd wanna know."

Leo nods in melancholy agreement. Raph waves again at Casey before heading towards the portal.

Casey and Leo stand awkwardly, each one shuffling their feet and shifting their weight while they try to find the words they want to say.

"Casey--"

"Leo--"

They both pause.

"You first," Casey offers.

"Okay. Um... I-I'm sorry for... everything. Again."

"I don't care about that anymore, I wanna know why you were acting weird and why you ran away," CJ responds.

Leo swallows. Casey can see he's shaking a little.

"I... I needed some time alone. I've not been... honest about my mental state as of late."

"What do you mean?"

Leo spills his guts to Casey about how ever since he told him about the future, ever since he discovered that the Krang killed everyone in the alternate timeline, he's been tormented by thoughts of how worthless he was, how much better for everyone it would be if he just... stopped existing. Leo can hardly even say the actual word, he can barely admit that he's been struggling with thoughts about his own life and whether or not he actually deserves to live. About whether or not he wants to.

Casey is silent the entire time. But things start to make sense.

So that's why he didn't want the others to know about the future... That's why he hated it everytime Casey brought it up.

Leo starts rambling, the words spilling out like vomit. At one point he mentions that he feels like he might actually throw up. Casey sits him down and helps to calm him. He still feels pretty queasy, but he continues to ramble. Part of Leo wishes he would just puke already. Maybe then he'd stop talking about this. Leo wants to stop talking, for once in his life -- but he can't seem to find the off switch in his brain and he just continues to sob and over-explain himself.

And Casey listens carefully. He sits it out and listens to every stammer and stutter and deep dark reveal that Leo has to offer.

Leo finally calms down, panting and heaving from the overly-exerting talk and the sick feeling in his stomach. But he feels lighter. It's good to get it all out and off his chest. He hates that he had to show this part of him; he feels like he revealed a horrible secret or a deadly weakness within him. But he's glad that he did, all the same.

He waits for Casey to respond. He sits beside him, quiet and patting his shell.

"...Feel better?" he whispers.

Leo nods.

"Yeah, actually. Thanks for sitting through all that," Leo chuckles half-heartedly.

CJ smiles at him, wrapping an arm around the turtle in a side-hug.

"That's what family does, dude."

"Some family I've been," Leo mumbles. "I treated you awful."

"You were scared and hurting," Casey states. "It's no excuse, but under the circumstances I can understand why you reacted the way you did. We'll call it even."

Leo huffs a soft breath that Casey interprets as a chuckle.

"So, uh... what now?" Leo asks. "I mean, I do not want to talk anymore, if I'm honest. I'm exhausted."

"Makes sense," CJ remarks. "I guess it's my turn to talk, anyway."

He clears his throat, and Leo prepares himself for another scolding about why he should have let him talk about his family, or another heartbreaking recount of the events of the bad timeline, or something terrible that he deserves because he deserves to hurt, deserves to suffer, he's a good for nothing wretched little pest.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

Leo's mouth softly falls open. He, uh... he wasn't expecting that.

"I shouldn't have said those things. I was angry and I wanted to get my point across, so I intentionally hurt you. The same way I did when we were in the tunnel and I told you about how it all ended. And that wasn't cool of me. I was being a jerk, and you didn't deserve that."

"...Well, I was being a jerk too," Leo articulates. "I needed the reality check."

"Yeah, but I could have been better about it. I was spiteful, and angry, and what I said was brutal. And you held on to that, and you shouldn't have. It wasn't your fault, dude. None of it. None of the attack, invasion, the krang -- none of that was because of you."

"...I wish I could believe you on that," Leo mutters. "But it was my fault. I was stupid and self-absorbed and I let them get away with the key. It was my screw-up that almost doomed humanity."

Casey looks back at Leo, who is slowly slinking into his shell again.

"...Y'know, there was this one mission that me and my Sensei went on," Casey says quietly. "We were supposed to help these refugees back to our hideout. But I got cocky and reckless... I almost screwed it all up. I thought I could get everyone out safely in one night, and I unintentionally alerted the Krang to our location. I could have gotten everyone killed, including Sensei. You. And I went through a lot of negative stuff afterwards. But then... Sensei told me something important."

"...What did he say?" Leo asks with hesitance.

"He said that I wasn't a bad person. He said I was just fifteen. Well, at the time I was. I didn't get it back then, but now I do. I was just a stupid kid who was trying to be bigger than I actually was. And I'm still a stupid kid. The point is, you're still growing up and learning how to be yourself and you'll make dumb mistakes. That's what makes us teenagers. So you should learn from the mistake, but let it go. Cuz' at the end of the day... it was just a mistake."

Leo stares at him before looking out over the water as the sun slowly starts to set.

He smiles.

"...Huh."

He slowly stands up and wipes the sand off before offering a hand to Casey.

"Come on. Raph'll be wondering where we are."

CJ takes his hand, and the two walk back to the hotel to explain to the others about Leo's dilemma and healing.

"Oh, and Casey?"

"Yeah?" CJ answers, pausing to make sure that Leo is okay.

Leo smiles. A genuine, bright smile. He's okay.

"Thanks for telling me that story."

Prev || Next

[allogrim]

Currently insane about the way that both Armand and Louis are actively involved in rewriting Louis' memories during the Loumand marriage era. Like, it's not just that Armand is working the Mind Gift on Louis when things go wrong, Louis is doing everything he can to rewrite the narrative, too. They both fundamentally understand (whether that understanding is correct or not) that Louis cannot survive the knowledge of Claudia's death, the truth of it, the truth of Armand's and Lestat's and his own culpability in the events surrounding it.

And so they are both, constantly, trying to give Louis some other narrative to believe, to the point where it's kind of impossible to truly know which of them is responsible for what edits. Like, we can guess, but to know? For sure? I don't think they even know for sure! Did Armand meddle with Louis' memory of the trial? Did Louis, trapped in that stone-filled coffin, replaying everything over and over with tiny changes, little alterations, until the distinction between memory and fantasy was irreparably eroded? Did Louis ask for the memory of San Fransisco to be taken? Who took the pages out of Claudia's diaries? Who designed the Dubai penthouse, coffin and archive and shrine to Louis' history, carefully curated and sanitized and protected from outside influences? Who put the Steins in the album?

Both of them, both of them, both of them. Whoever did it, the answer is both of them. They are co-authoring a story where Louis is blameless and Armand is forgiven and no one is suicidal and they are in love.

[furiousgoldfish]

I finally caved in and started using pain medicine to deal with the pain. This was a very hard thing for me to do, because for the most of my life, I believed that I both didn't deserve any medicine, and that it was bad for me.

Thinking back, my family used a lot of medicine daily, but when I was sick, I was told to 'work through it' or that my immune system had to be strong enough to take it. I wasn't even taken to the doctor unless there was a culmination of multiple issues at once. Even when taken to the doctor, I've been told over and over what a burden I was, how much of their time I was wasting, and how I got sick on purpose.

I became convinced that if I wanted to be healthy, I would bear any sickness without the help of doctors or medicine. This conviction became so strong that if I was forced to take any medicine, I would have a volatile reaction, start having a complete breakdown or immediately get sicker. I started believing that my body is resistant to medicine and breaks down if any is introduced. It was more likely that I was hanging onto my belief that I had to be 'strong enough to survive anything without medicine' so much, that if this got violated, I would psychologically break down and believe myself weak and broken permanently.

As an adult, I would take medicine only when pain was such high level it was unbearable and pushing me into suicidal thoughts. And lately, I've been having lots of that, pain so severe it would paralyze me completely, I wouldn't be able to speak or think, I would even end up making noises, which, I was trained not to do, even when tortured. There was an instance where I was in so much pain I couldn't control my hands enough to take medicine, and found myself having to ask someone else to give it to me - which was horrifying to me. And I finally realized, I can't wait that long. I have to take the medicine before it gets to such extreme levels.

So, I am slowly letting go of my ideas that medicine will make me weak or mess with my immune system. I'm looking up what medicine does to the body and for the first time, seeing realistically what the risks are, what is happening inside of me if I take any, what are the possible side-effects, what will it truly do to my immune system. The entire process is extremely scary, because I built so much of my identity on that perceived toughness and 'medicine is bad' mindset. Just casually learning that I've been wrong about everything for all of my life is a lot to swallow. But I can't live like this anymore. I can't stand any more of the pain. Even if medicine will give me some mild side effects, or is a bit tough on my stomach, taking it responsibly will not give me any permanent damage. It will keep me alive through the pain and make it survivable. I can't live in an amount of pain that is making me suicidal.