#mentioned torture

[i-butter-not-be-a-bot]

We're back in the fucking building

Fandom: Trollhunters

Characters: Nomura & Strickler

Tw: implied/referenced torture

Sometimes part of working for an evil boss is cleaning up after that evil boss. (An exploration of Nomura & Strickler pre canon, might do this again with other pairs, or I might not)

Nomura estimates the noises have been going on for a few hours now. She's an expert at ignoring them, unpacking box after crate of historical artifacts.

They're not much, Arcadia is not a big town. Yet they fill her with awe, and joy, sniffing up the smell of history, listening to the whispers of dusty relics.

She checks the floorplan again. Best to avoid the south rooms entirely for now.

For the first time in a decade, Nomura is excited. This museum is hers. Well, not hers hers, but mostly hers.

It's probably the only good thing that's come from their recent move.

The noises have stopped. Impacts of stone against flesh, growling, yelling, screaming. Typical Bular things.

The Gum-gum prince has been in an awful mood ever since the change in scenery. So newly arrived in this town the changelings under his service had failed to provide enough food, humans. Stress relief.

Honestly, when Strickler manages to drag his mangled body into the entrance hall hours later Nomura is surprised he survived, she really thought this was finally going to be his last. But he was always a useful one..

She doesn't really care for him, more concerned for the small scarlet trail she leaves, and the fact she's going to have to mop these halls already. But, she still helps him up. Snarls about it too, mocks him.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Or, "You'd think that eventually you'd stop being so insistently noisy,"

Or today only, "You look like a fucking wreck." She spits on the ground as she says the words.

Still, she drags his mangled ass to her car, black seats, red coating, no idea why he still owns a blue one.

She drives him home. She knows his new address. He sent it to her in advance. She sent him hers.

It's a transaction, nothing more. Bular will always be out for blood, and if they can't provide he'll get bored and someone'll get hurt. Nomura's been in his shoes, Strickler's been in hers.

It's more often this way around though, Nomura hasn't bothered to count, but Stricklander has got a mouth too big for his smug little face. Ambitions too big for a changeling like them, it's going to get him killed one day, the annoying little twat.

Nomura probably won't shed a single tear about it. They're colleagues, acquaintances. Under the gum-gum's reign there is no place for there to be anything more to it. There is no place for friendship or solidarity amongst them.

Friendship is a tool, something to be used against you by clever people sooner or later. Solidarity is a lie to be harnessed for your own goals.

You never let down your guard.

Nomura wouldn't have it any other way, for it's the only way she knows.

This is the world. And they're just pawns in it.

[artsyjois-s]

No Place - Twisted Mirrors Au

First and foremost! I'd like to thank Mermay for the idea, and @cattyanon too, after I rediscovered her own No Place Sonic in the archive of my other account :D

Sonic "Nixie" the Merhog.

Name: Nixie, it's German for "Water Nimph". Continuing the running hc (????) that they're just named (for example) Captain Dread Knuckles or smth like that, so, "Nixie" is his nickname and how literally everyone calls him.

Dread was the one who gave him the nickname, btw. A cute nickname for a cute hedgehog, iykwim

Time passed, they flirting with eachother, Dread getting to know just how much Nixie hates water. Nixie knowing fully well that between him and the gem waiting at the Lighthouse something, Dread would choose the gem.

He knows that. He's okay with that (he's not). He's ready for that to happen, and to save himself so Knucklehead won't have to life with the (possible) guilt.

Dread calls him "Me beauty" too, gifted him a gold earring, telling him it was prove of their love. Nixie wants to believe him.

But when they arrive, the captain is betrayed and Nixie has to do something. He can't lose Dread like he did with his uncle... But he gets tripped by those he thought friends and family.

He falls to the waters and he despairs trying to get out. He can't. There's something tangled in his legs but he can't take it off.

He drowns.

... and then wakes up.

In a shore. With sand under his gloves... with the sun shining over him...

He moves, trying to inspect himself for any injury.

There were pretty scales and a biiig fish tail instead of his legs, in his field of vision, but there was no injur-

His mind goes blank for a couple of seconds before he screams...

And finds out he can't. And he gets a full panic attack, even feeling like he's drowning.

Because Mermaids in No Place don't have mouths.

His gills are still underwater (torso, in between his ribs), thanks to the fact that he can't really move that much with his new limb :D And that's on top of the fact that he's so near water, can't get away, and his new body NEEDS water to survive. Ah, and that's right, this boy had to overcome talasophobia to survive just to get cursed into living his worst nightmare.

+ Dread! :D

Dread, already fighting with the raging waters, only sees him fall off the deck. And he finds out... he doesn't want the beauty more than he wants to see Nixie alive.

And Nixie doesn't know how to swim.

But no matter how much he searched. Nixie was better off dead by the time his limbs gave up and he had to force himself to climb a rock.

He was eventually found by his current crew.

Shadow "Dirge" the Syren hybrid.

Name means (summarised from wikipedia): "Lament of the death" A siren whose song is specifically a funeral march.

A dirge (Latin: dirige, nenia) is a somber song or lament expressing mourning or grief, such as may be appropriate for performance at a funeral. Often taking the form of a brief hymn (partially synonymous with devotional song, specifically written for the purpose of adoration or payer and typically adressed to a deity or deities) dirges are typically shorter and less meditative than elegies (poem of serious reflection). Dirges are often slow and bear the character of funeral marches. Poetic dirges may be dedicated to a specific individual or otherwise thematically refer to death.

The English word dirge is derived from the Latin Dirige, Domine, Deus meus, in conspectu tuo viam meam ("Direct my way in your sight, O Lord my God"), the first words of the first antiphon (a short chant in Christian liturgy) in the Matins (is a canonical hour in Christian liturgy) of the Office for the Dead, based on Psalm 5. The original meaning of dirge in English referred to this office, particularly as it appeared in breviaries (a liturgical book) and primer prayer books.

Didn't know all that :D

Anyways, he was, obviously, created in a lab to bring down the gap between the Mer world and the surface. The king of the Mermaids having given Gerald his DNA to create Project Shadow.

Said Project Shadow would become the only survivor of the raise of the ocean inside that GUN base. (Idk if I made sense, English's not my first language)

His despair and heartbreak made him a hybrid syren instead of just a mermaid capable of speech.

But no matter. He would NOT live in the underwater world, even if he's forced to visit it at least once a week to stop himself from dying of dehidration.

He can turn between a syren and mobian with ease. Learned how to fight with GUN, and learned by observing how a pirate acts. How a captain acts. Changed his name, seeking not to be recognized if possible. (From Shadow to Dirge)

His Goal is to kill his DNA donor, because he knows damn well he's the responsible for the sudden rise of the water.

Infinite "Barnacle" the Jackal.

Definition: Most barnacles are encrusters, attaching themselves to a hard substrate such as a rock, the shell of a mollusc, or a ship; or to an animal such as a whale.

It implies he is someone who latches onto something beautiful (like a mermaid) and drains the life out of it.

Captain of the Grand Jackal.

Found a mermaid sleeping at the shore of a small island. And, did you know a mermaid and its parts are valuable in the black market? :)

He kept that merhog for at least two years, planning to become rich with its tears (which create highly valuable pearls) and its blood (which has healing properties).

He loses his hearing when Nixie finally escapes, and gets badly injured and almost drowns by the vengeful merhogsyren's claws.

Starline "Arcadia" the Platypus.

"Arcadia" represents an idyllic, pastoral paradise. An Arcadian Nightmare is a subgenre where the beauty of nature is actually a mask for something predatory or eldritch.

He's the king Dirge got DNA from. And the very same MerWitch that cursed the chain still tied around NixieMaroon's tail.

The very same Witch that Maroon feels... endebted with, as Arcadia's the one who took him in after he was shunned away by the other mermaids, for being a syren.

And it was designed to be like that.

From the very start.

As the Warp Topaz sits in Arcadia's neck, just like Ursula with Ariel's voice in the Little Mermaid.

---------

Other facts, as I had to tell all this as a story lol:

Dread was being honest with that gold earring, that's the equivalent of an engagement ring in their culture

Dread went to become the equidna we see in canon afterwards. Truly not caring about his new crew as much as he ever did Nixie.

Nixie returned many times to the Devil's Lighthouse (that was it's name, right?), but never found Dread. He returned many more times as Maroon to remember what the surface dwellers took away from him.

Nixie became Maroon after survivors of his vengeance against the surface dwellers. Because the curse left him to rot and drown until only bone remained. He felt like nothing but a carcass... And because other people (the survivors of an encounter with him) noticed his arms, stained a maroon color (it's a consequence of him becoming a syren) spreading rumors about it being the blood of his victims.

Edit bc I clicked "publish" before it was time

My inspirations go to: Shipslucia in Twitter, with his pirate/mermaid design

Fibul, for how my Dirge was created <3

Cattyanon for how syrens are chased away from mermaid settlements (I understood that, sorry it's it's not accurate)

Ehhhhh, idk who else

Anyways Nixie/Maroon is the representation of all the anger and resentment Sonic doesn't let himself to feel. The revenge he doesn't let himself to indulge.

He's also tense constantly, no matter how much he tries, he can't fucking relax. It must be the fact that he's cursed to live underwater when he hates it, it translates into more anger and suffering

Infinite is still alive, btw, I want Dread to go nuts on him after he rediscovers Nixie.

[fallenwhumpee]

Heyyy so I've got 2 prompts in my head, neither is really whump but like hey.

1. Two friends on opposite sides of a fight. Like born to be friemds forced to be enemies. So like the 'good' friend manages to capture the 'bad' friend and has orders from his higher ups to torture him and he really doesn't want to so like they talk, the captured guy does still get pretty beat up cuz like he gets it, until his team comes in to save him. And they're lile lets catch up soon, k? Like i wanna explore the emotional side of this cuz like forced by duty.

2. Second in command plays into bait willingly but the team doesn't know that and thinks they were being reckless but it was all planned. His leader was down, along with his sister like figure, and their second main fighter was busy protecting them so he buys time by letting the enemy capture him and have their way with him. Anything can work, drugging, sedation, restraints (pretty please), injuries, whatever you heart pleases.

Ps. How have you been? Enjoy your time off <3

~🐈‍⬛💜

Im well, just looking for ways to be productive here too while slowly getting my works done.

Both are amazing prompts anon! Please have my try for the first one <3

Loyalty

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Mentioned torture, nosebleed, self-sacrifice.

Right Hand was shaking as they walked down the narrow stairs, their boss following right after them. They knew in that they were starting to seem off. They had to prove that they were loyal again. It was also the truth and what they wanted. They needed their team, and they needed to be in this side of the conflict.

But more than that, they loved their former captain, and now it was threatening their loyalty to their team.

What hurt them the most was that Whumpee didn't need to be their enemy. They were playing the necessary evil, and it was the agency's doing. Whumpee was once again paying the price for the flow of things.

Right Hand stumbled, their boss catching them from their collar to prevent them from falling.

"Your mind is somewhere else," Boss commented. "It's not like you. But you should get yourself together before we get to the cell. We wouldn't want a bad impression."

"Yessir," Right Hand answered automatically.

"I can trust you down here, can't I?"

"You can, and you should, sir. I don't think I've ever betrayed to your trust," Right Hand pulled themselves together.

"You did not. But I knew you had an unfortunate history."

Unfortunate, they held back a bitter chuckle. Unfortunate for Whumpee. They were stripped of their rank and team and pit into a position they didn't wish for. Just like Right Hand, only remained one from the former team, thrown into the opposite position. Right Hand could be considered even lucky. At least they weren't shouldering more than they could.

They walked in silence, their steps synchronised as if they had been at each other's side for years. It was wrong because Right Hand's place was Whumpee's side. Being like this was foreign and just... wrong.

Right Hand stopped when Boss put a hand to their shoulder. They slowly raised their gaze and met with Whumpee. They had to hold their breath, not to gasp at the sight of Whumpee's still form hanging from the ceiling by arms, hair damp and sticking to their sweaty pale skin as blood slowly dripped down from their nose.

"Extract as much information as you can before their minions find this place," Boss said to their ear. Right Hand nodded, again a fixed response to orders.

"I will come back to see your progress, but I should report something first. Have fun," Boss chirped before leaving. The tone froze Right Hand, causing their stomach to flip.

"Finally a familiar face," Whumpee whispered. The voice Right Hand once received orders that could make one tremble was now reduced to a weak croak. "The agency must've made a good cleanup."

"How can you be so calm?!" Right Hand snapped. They got into the cell quickly, releasing Whumpee's arms. They had to catch Whumpee from falling like a rag doll, the weight their arms support a lot less than they expected.

"It's good to see you too. But I wish it had been in better circumstances," Whumpee smiled as they held their nose, moving a little to lean back to the wall of the cell. They looked Right Hand with so much affection that Right Hand had to suppress their anger.

"I really don't know how anyone didn't notice yet," Right Hand kneeled next to them, their eyes asking for permission to check Whumpee. "You're not really subtle with your stubbornness to do the bare minimum to look bad or make your minions mess up the plans purposefully."

Whumpee shrugged. "I'm too busy to run a monopoly over the resources to be evil," they said with a fake offended voice. Then they chuckled slightly, trying their best to give an assuring smile.

Right Hand searched for any injuries, but it seemed that no one took a risk by leaving Whumpee to bleed. Right Hand was grateful for it, but the bruises and scars were worrying, along with the thought of what could be under the heavy bandages on Whumpee's torso and legs.

"I can't do what they wish from me," Right Hand confessed without dragging it any further. "I can't... I can't do what they did."

"But you'll have to, sooner or later. Don't feel bad about it. I know you don't... mean it," Whumpee answered, reaching to Right Hand's hand. Both of their hands were hard and calloused, causing the other's to itch a little, but it didn't matter. What mattered was Right Hand had to torture Whumpee.

"Leader," they whispered, their mouth having a bitter taste as they voice the name now buried into classified filed. Right Hand didn't have the strength to ask for forgiveness, and Whumpee's real name between their lips was the only way they could beg for it.

"Don't," Whumpee almsot choked out. "Don't do this to both of us. Don't think me as... as what I am."

As what I am.

Whumpee was still the same person under this disguise, and it was making Right Hand's work impossible. Because Right Hand's loyalty first belonged to Whumpee, and Whumpee truly did nothing to betray that trust.

"One would think we are the bad guys here," they chuckled bitterly, the hypocrisy of the whole situation catching up on them.

"Nothing is inheritly good or inheritly bad. At least what you do has more benefits," Whumpee reminded. Right Hand's shoulders tensed, slowly accepting the inevitable outcome.

"When will you stop sacrificing yourself?" Right Hand asked instead. They heard the distant sound of door opening. Whumpee must have heard, too, because they got to a kneeling position, head down as they pushed their nose harshly, making it bleed again.

It took Right Hand's all will not to react to that.

"I see talking didn't went well," Boss opened the cell door, leaning on the frame. "Please continue with what you were doing."

"Please obey your master little puppet," Whumpee mocked. Right Hand sighed, the tired sound easily could be mistaken as frustration. They caught Whumpee from their collar, slamming them to the wall. Whumpee went limb for a second but collected themselves a little as Right Hand let them stand on their feet, their eyes finding Boss.

Right Hand had never seen Whumpee look this arrogant before.

And Whumpee laughed. Boss pushed Right Hand aside and took Whumpee themselves, throwing the unmoving body to the opposite wall. Right Hand had to hold back a yelp as Whumpee cried with the impact.

"I would make you regret your every action, your betrayal, if so many villains weren't trying to save you or kill you themselves as we speak," Boss snarled. "But I guess I should now settle for your former underling torturing you after you already gone a round by professionals."

"You will be my neighbour in hell," Whumpee smirked.

Right Hand's mind immediately translated, I will see you later.

Boss motioned them to leave, so obeyed. By the time Rught Hand's team got out, a small group of villains were coming towards the hideout.

[fleur-a-whump]

listening to a Siri-esque voice read pretty hardcore whump with a feigned, not quite there, robotic attempt at human inflection is honestly chilling

part of me is genuinely horrified. like the inherent dehumanization of a macabre facsimile of a human voice reading deeply human thoughts and emotions born of pure terror and severe pain is so wrong. like oh. oh no. this is Wrong.

.....the other part of me though.

the other part is running absolutely rabid with ideas. could this be an inhuman whumper with the ability to read minds voicing the thoughts of their whumpee with a cold detachedness? are they simply pondering whumpee's humanity which they cannot experience themselves? are they voicing these thoughts to torment caretaker in a ransom video? or even after whumpee's death? are they voicing them to whumpee themselves, like a bedtime story after a torture session, forcing them to relive the traumatic memories though whumper's fucked up, delighted lense of whumpee's own thoughts?

Jesus Christ I am having Thoughts

[the-final-sif]

Important notes for the Convict Childcare AU:

c!Dream does not know that Michael is c!Tubbo / c!Ranboo’s adopted son. He literally has no idea where, why, or how c!Sam got a zombie piglin child.

c!Dream initially believes that Michael is c!Sam trying to get him to be attached to something so Michael can be used against him. He starts to realize that isn’t the case, but still goes out of his way to convince c!Sam he doesn’t like Michael.

c!Dream actually attempts to use the revival book on Michael to see if it can cure his zombification. XD shows up, but he can’t cure the zombification without basically remaking Michael. Instead, he just heals what damage he can and mitigates the rest of the symptoms so that Michael won’t experience any more flesh decay, should only deal with mild aches, and won’t be infectious towards or instinctively rejected by piglins.

The healed damage means that while Michael still can’t talk, he gains back a lot of usage of his hands. This means he can learn some sign language!

c!Dream struggles to teach and communicate through sign language due to nerve damage in his own hands from the torture, but the two of them make it work.

The first signs c!Dream teaches Michael are “hide” and “help”.

c!Sam doesn’t know any sign so he gets pissy about the two of them using “secret codes” around him. c!Dream just teaches Michael to be subtle about it.

Speaking of c!Sam, Michael is scared of him. Both on account of “scary man who I don’t know who removed me from the care of someone I did know” and “my caretaker is clearly scared of this person so I should be too.”

At some point, after c!Sam has had enough time to build something he considers secure enough to hold c!Dream for at least a period of time, c!Sam tries to separate the two of them.

It goes. Poorly.

Michael was okay with leaving c!Dream for short periods, but being separated completely and left with c!Sam leaves him inconsolable. He’s constantly trying to run, crying, and refuses to eat or let c!Sam take care of him in anyway.

c!Sam spins a narrative in his head that c!Dream has somehow brainwashed Michael to be against him, and tries to force c!Dream to “fix” the problem.

c!Dream at least attempts to give c!Sam advice on how to take care of Michael around the torture, but c!Sam is stuck on the idea that there’s no way this could be because of his behavior.

Ultimately, c!Sam forgets that Michael is a piglin and makes the mistake of coming back into his room with the smell of c!Dream’s blood on his clothing.

Michael goes feral, attacking c!Sam, doing serious damage and almost dying to c!Sam’s thorns enchantment.

c!Sam can’t even get in the same room as Michael without drugging him with potions. So, in a rare moment of admitting defeat, c!Sam returns Michael to c!Dream under the guise of it being “because he has more work to do on the new prison.”

Michael latches onto c!Dream and Will Not Let go. c!Dream doesn’t sleep at all that night, partially because he’s scared of losing Michael again, and partially because he’s already grappling with the fact he’s going to need to give Michael away as soon as he’s free because there’s literally no way he’s going to be able to safely raise a child.

[whumpitisthen]

Whumper who never actually hurts Whumpee. They never outright torture them, hit them, strangle them... The most physical abuse they've done is a slightly harder grip on the whumpee than necessary.

Yet Whumpee still follows every single order they give without hesitation, and are still fearful of Whumper just the same. They stumble-stutter their way over their own words while talking to them, fidget nervously when they are around them and try their best to stay as far away from them as the situation allows.

In truth, Whumper doesn't need to hurt them to keep them in check. They've never done so, not even once. Whumpee already knows what they are capable of. They have already witnessed it; watched the whole way through, and decided that they do not need to be taught better. In fact, their single purpose in life became to never ever aggravate or displease Whumper in any way, and do their best to keep them content, just so they won't have to witness, or worse, experience Whumper's wrath again.

They're never on the receiving end, yet they are intimately and terrifyingly familiar with it.

<

Masterlist

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 19: Enough is Enough

Fandom: TMNT

Prompts;

Knees Buckling

Repeatedly passing out

Head lolling

And coming back around my fixations list. We have some more turtle* (*not so) angst. }:) Mikey is both Bamf and a little dark at one point? But youngest siblings can be pretty unhinged at times so… 

Mikey comes from a pretty big family. It's not a conventional family by any means, but a family nonetheless. And being the youngest could have its advantages, sure, but there were also the downsides that made him want to tear his hair out and scream at the top of his lungs. 

He loved his family, he would do anything for his family, and they didn't seem to understand that he could. That he wasn't some baby who couldn't handle himself, that he had natural talent, and good ideas and a great potential, but he was never really given the chance to prove it. So, when it just caused discontent, he stopped trying so hard. 

But now, his family was in danger. And he could be thankful that he was underestimated, because it gave him the chances he needed. People didn't seem to see that this family was full of protectors, and he was part of it. But he'd get to show them, he'd make them pay for what they'd done. And they would learn, they would learn not to cross Michaelangelo Hamato. 

…

Mikey supposed you could say this is all his fault, And even if somehow it wasnt, he'd get blamed anyway he's sure. Really it probably was his fault, with their father and the others on a training/information gathering trip, it was just the four of them and he should have been on his best guard. 

Instead he was too slow, and before even Raphael could react, they were down. Mikey thinks it may have been their quickest defeat by an enemy, he can only imagine how disappointed Master Splinter will be, if they- no when they- make it out or this. Because these guys, whoever they were, hurt his brothers. 

They'd obviously done their research, Mikey thinks as he watches them. They inject Raph with something, and almost immediately, his eyes roll and head falls forward, out like a light-They obviously know what chemicals work past their enhancements. Taking him out first was smart, because when Raph got angry it was hard to take him down, and what they did next definitely would have angered him. 

Donnie is next, which most would think a weird choice, but Donnie was a plan guy, and Leo relied on him more than people knew. They stick something to the back of his neck, and it must hurt because Donnie jerks before going stiff, then limp. He's not unconscious, but his head lulls this way and that, his eyes fogging over in a way that says 'no one home'. His face is tense though, as if in pain, and Mikey can only assume the device is somehow keeping him from thinking or doing. 

Leo has been thrashing this whole time, obviously angry, angrier than Mikeys used to seeing from his older brother. The fact they are still able to hold him down is astounding, though it could have something to do with the sword at the back of Mikey's neck. But as Mikey said, these guys have done their research, so they do Leo next, because Mikey is the youngest. 

Underestimated and labeled as the weak link, it hurts, but it's to his advantage. 

They inject Leo with- Mikey assumes- the same thing they gave Raph, but while his struggles weaken, they do not cease like Raphs had. Mikey's plan solidifies when they make their next move, none of these guys will be spared from his wrath. Not as they stab Leo. Not as the blade is pulled, covered in his brother's blood, from Leo's side. They inject him again, even though Leo has slumped-breathing harsh- and his brother's eyes close. 

Even as they simply knock Mikey over the head, not caring to take the same precautions, Mikey feels something snap inside him. As darkness encompasses his vision, his brothers’ conditions imprinted on his eyelids, he makes a promise to himself. To make these men pay, and get his brothers to safety. Even if it's the last thing he does.

…

Mikey had taken it upon himself, to learn as much as he could about taking care of people. Donnie had a lot on his shoulders most days, and Mikey wasnt stupid, he could see how the weight made him sag. So he'd subtly inserted the thought into the others' heads, because his family was full of stubborn buttheads, and watched as they'd each come up with a way to help. Raph and Leo started helping in the garage, Casey and April helped in the lab, repairs around their hideout were done together rather than forced on Donnie. And Mikey, Mikey decided being a Medic would be a big help. 

He was grateful for it now, as he used their wrapping to bind Leo's wound as best he could. He needed far more than bandages, but Mikey didn't think they'd be getting that anytime soon. He didn't know what they wanted yet, but with the three they deemed important out of commision, he wondered how they planned to get anything from them.

Unless they wanted to dissect them and see what made them tick, which… made the most sense. Master Splinter had tried to protect them from the world, tried to give them as normal a life as he could. But they were science experiments, practically super soldiers, and it made sense that others would want to use that. Even if they were just kids. 

He sat back, hands and pants bloody, and surveyed his other two brothers. 

They were all in seperate cages, three in a row- Donnie, Leo, Raph- while Mikey's own cage was beside Leos. He'd just barely been able to reach his brother, who'd been awake just long enough to scoot to the bars before he'd passed out again. But he could do nothing for Raph or Donnie. 

Donnie, whose head hangs limp, chin against his chest, before it’d sway lazily one way then the other. Occasionally Mikey would catch a glimpse of his face, when his hair shifted and head turned just so, and that look from before was really only getting worse. His eyebrows knitted, teeth clenched, but eyes dull. 

Raph was still out cold, sprawled on his side and looking pale. He'd twitch sometimes, but hadn't woken up yet. Besides the few bruises and knicks they'd all sustained, he seemed the best shape of the three, even if a bit sickly. 

They wouldn't be much help in an escape, so Mikey had to figure out how to get three limp noodles to safety. Really the only option is to incapacitate everyone in the building so no one can stand in his way. Which he had no problem with, he was looking forward to punching some lights out, to tearing through them all left and right, for stomping on their remains for thinking they could get away with this, for- 

Alright, maybe he needed to chill a little. No use in peeling faces off when his brothers needed medical attention. Mikey was a ninja, they had a code or whatever. And while he would not be holding back on these guys, his main focus needed to be his family. 

The doors across the room open, and Mikey watches their every step- eyes wide and fearful to play up the innocent youngest vibe these guys seemed to see him as. Trying to get a read on their intentions, while ironing out the details of his plan. They stop in front of his cage, which is nice because he couldn't guarantee his control would last much longer if they'd gone after the others. 

"If you quaporate, the others won't be killed now, understand?" Well, this would be easier than he thought. 

A fearful nod, a little trembling, a loving look to his brothers, and these guys are sold. Mikey couldn't wait to see their faces, when he clobbered them. 

…

He knows better than to act out on the first contact. He needs more information before he can initiate anything, he needs to not run in fists first when he couldn't 100% rely on them. 

So he lets them take him the first time. And the second time. Even a third time. But the time he has to act is dwindling each time, so he'll have to use what he's gathered so far, and do his best. 

Because Donnies curled up on his side now, practically grinding his forehead into the ground. Raphs breathing sounds like that dying frog from Ogre the 3rd. And Leo, who'd woken up when he'd returned both the first and second time, didn't even stir the third time, the wrapping around his side red and spreading. 

He sits against the bars, as close to his brothers as he can get, and centers himself like they've been trained. He pushes away all his distractions, prays for strength for his brothers, and prays that he'll get them through this. When the doors open again, he is calm, pain has been pushed aside, and his focus is solely on what he has to do. He knows it won't last forever though, he needed to do this fast.

His hair covers his eyes, he doesn't hear what they say as they open the door, he's focused on the breathing behind him. He's stiller than he's ever been before, stiller than he ever thought possible, he can practically feel the air shifting around the arm reaching for him. 

His eyes open, and he's outside his cage, the two men unconscious- or maybe dead- inside it. He's given little time to think about it, as the doors open and more men- he'd only seen men, he wonders why- enter. The fact they'd been watched this whole time, and still underestimated him, proves they are not as smart as they think.

He moves through the forces with the ease of adrenaline and instinct- and training too of course. Still it's one against a heck of a lot more, and for all their enhancements, they are still mortals, so it's no surprise they land quite a few hits too. But running on pure spite seems to work more than he expected, his brothers' forms behind him reminding him and fueling his actions. 

Revenge wasn't something Master Splinter encouraged, he'd say something about it blackening their hearts and following the same road as Shredder or something he's sure. But Mikey honestly couldn't care less right now. If Splinter wanted to see them again, then Mikey had to do this, besides he'd rather have the blood of enemies on his hands than that of his brothers. Even if it garnered Splinters disapproval. It wouldn't be the first time anyway. 

…

By the time they stop coming through the door, Mikey is exhausted. He waits a moment, to see if there would be any sneak attacks or the likes, but nothing happens, no one moves, so Mikey makes his way- walking backwards- to his brothers cages. 

They were code locked, but Mikey had heard the tones they made when they opened his own, and thankfully they were stupid enough to use the same for all of them. The only problem now was getting three teens out of here. He chews on his lip a moment, eyes flickering from the doors to his brothers. 

"Alright Mikey… you can do this." 

He goes to Donnies first, eying the device then his brother's face. He'd need to be careful, he didn't want to mess with any of the nerves or important things at the base of his skull. It was obvious that it was messing with Donnies functions, so in theory, if he pulled it out it should… stop interfering? Or it could kill his brother, or paralyze him, or make him brain dead forever! Or-

No! Now was not the time for panicking. 

He grips the device between two fingers, sends another prayer to any ancestors listening, and pulls. Donnie yelps and Mikey flinches as his brother does a full body shiver before going completely limp. 

He's killed him. OhgodsMikeykilledhisbrotherhowcouldheohmygodsstrikemedownnow-

Another groan, and Donnies head weakly rolls to look up at him with one eye squinted open. 

"Motren." He croaks out. And Mikey could weep.

"I promise, once we get out of here." 

He helps his brother into a sitting position outside his cage, then takes his arm wrappings to redo Leo's dressings. He can only figure that whatever they injected his brothers with, was hindering their healing capabilities. He hopes it'll flush itself out, cause he doubts he'd find any notes about it lying around. 

He carefully pulls Leo out of his cell to lean against Donnie, then drags Raph- who's feverish and pale- to join them. Leo's eyes open briefly, his hand resting on Raphs forehead before closing once more. Mikey stares at the three before looking around the room for anything useful. Besides a body sled this room is useless. But Donnie, despite his head randomly lolling forward, is at least awake. And while it's not a ninja weapon, it'll have to do for now. 

"Donnie, shoot anyone that's not us okay?" 

He presses a gun from a fallen baddie into his brother's hand, before turning to the doors. He passed a lot of doors when they dragged him around, one of them had to have something useful. 

…

He stares at the brother pile he'd made. Two rolling office chairs taped together, Leo sitting in one, Donnie in the other, with Raph across their laps. It was so, not the best plan, but it was the only one he had. And with the movement he'd heard on his way back, it was the best way to get his brother's mobile while leaving him open to protect them. 

"Alright, let's keep up the not dying thing we've got going, and get the heck out of here."

He drags rather than pushes, putting himself first just in case. Donnie still had a good drip on his gun, had managed not to shoot Mikey when he'd come back, so hopefully he'd shoot anyone still lingering around. If they got past Mikey that is. 

At the very least, he's assuming the rest of the people still trying, have gotten smart enough to know he's a threat. It messes with his element of surprise, but at least he'll have a challenge to focus on with his mind now in ten different places- at the least.

He stops just before a corner, hears the shift of movement, and can only assume this is their final stand. Turning his brothers so the chair backs are against the wall, and Donnie can hopefully have a good enough view to have time to defend, he takes a stuttered breath and slips into the shadows. He doesn't have a stealth weapon, he'll be able to get one shot off before his position is revealed. He had to make it count. 

There aren't very many left, it bugs him that they were able to overtake them at all, that three of his brothers were taken down by a group he’s been able to defeat in less than an hour, and that was after everything they did. Did catching them off guard really allow all of this? Or was Mikey missing something? 

He shoots twice in quick succession, before ducking out of the way and shooting some more. He pants as he stands in the middle of their fallen bodies, hands trembling by his sides,

“Gelo?” 

He must of been quiet for too long, Donnie’s voice shocking him back to his mission. He knows for a fact two of the big guys involved in their capture are missing from the bodies. He needs to get his brothers out of here before they rear their ugly faces, the fight is slowly draining from him, he needed to focus on his brothers, and fixing his mistake. 

He comes around the corner, moving the gun Donnie points at his face, 

“Sorry ‘Tello, lets get out of here.” 

…

He pushes his brothers through alley after alley, not sure if it’s simply the chairs leading him forward or his own will. He also doesn’t know exactly where he’s headed, maybe home, but he can’t be sure. He needs someone with medical knowledge, maybe Leatherhead, or father, but he didn’t know where they were. So he needed supplies instead, Donnie could maybe direct him on what to do if he stayed coherent long enough, he just needed to clean and stitch Leo up, get that stuff out of his and Raph’s systems, and keep an eye on Donnie. He could do that…

Noise above has his heart rate spiking as he pulls to a stop, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he looks to the roofs. It’s still, too still, before a shadow moves and Karai is jumping down, her face shows her concern as she pulls her mask down. 

“What happened?” 

“They need help.” His knees buckle, trusting his sister to help now. They would be fine, he could rest now right? Please… let them be fine.

[mamoonde]

Wen Yuan is smarter than most kids.

He knows what it really meant when the bad men told him they’re not here to harm him. That his cousin sent them to take him somewhere safe. That his popo would be waiting there with his sister.

Lies.

Even without his little gift, he knows that’s not where he’s going. He knows that his popo and his sister and his cousins are gone. That they’re rotting in acid bins in the tunnels of an old warehouse – well, that he Saw in his mind. Saw it the moment these guys crossed the threshold of his home, while he’d been a block away in a convenience store.

But Wen Yuan is smart. He knows, even without his little gift, that to make it obvious he knows better would be bad. He needs to make them believe he buys their lies. He needs to make them believe he’s lost all hope. He needs them to believe he’s just some poor orphan kid too terrified to count landmarks because they were dumb enough not to blindfold him.

When they stop at a red light, the noontime sun dims in the cover of a thick cloud.

Soon. 

Wen Yuan tries not to visibly brace himself. He waits. A harried delivery guy swerves his scooter between lanes. 

The light turns green. The man beside him takes out a cigarette and flicks open his lighter. A click and a lurch: the brakes come off.

Wen Yuan shoves the open flame into the man’s tie. “Hey!” The guy on his right tries to make a grab for him. Wen Yuan knees his crotch and wrenches the car door open, diving out into the sidewalk.

The momentum is harder than he expected, but he ignores the twinge in his ankle. He doesn't have much of a window. Wen Yuan runs.

He doesn’t look back to watch the delivery guy crash his scooter into the bad guy’s open door. And that when the clouds part, the noontime sun reflects off of a passing truck with a mirror, momentarily blinding the remaining bad guy. He's seen it all happen.

More importantly, Wen Yuan knows it’s all the time he’ll get.

But if he runs fast enough, yells loud enough, he can see a way out: a man with long hair, tied up with a red ribbon. Dark clothes that smell of blood and lotus flowers. A blood red blade.

As Wen Yuan weaves in and out of the lunch crowd, closer and closer to the edge of the business district, where seedy motels pepper nightclubs and empty parking lots, the image grows clearer in his mind. The man has gray eyes and a warm smile, a large gentle hand on his head—

Someone grabs his shoulder, jerking him back hard enough it nearly wrenches his arm from its socket.

“Got you, fucking brat!”

The vision flickers, the paths less certain. NO! Wen Yuan bites the hand on his shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

“FUCK!”

Wen Yuan pitches himself forward and dashes across the road. A six wheeler truck misses him by a split second. It doesn’t miss the guy on his tail. Wen Yuan flinches at the ensuing screams and crashes, but can’t bring himself to feel true remorse. Not for his family’s murderers. 

As he crosses the next block, the image forms again. The storefronts grow more familiar, and the vision in his head nearly overlaps his reality.

He swivels into a side alley and follows it through to the next street. A man in dark clothes exits from the employee door of a motel, his hair held up by a blood red ribbon. Wen Yuan nearly sobs in relief.

“Please help me!” Wen Yuan grabs at the man's shirt. It smells of blood and lotus flowers. Already, the vision of himself strapped to a table is fading, the phantom bite of leather straps around his arms all but gone.

“Wha—” The guy jerks back but Wen Yuan holds fast. A name blooms in his mind.

“Yiling Laozu.” Silvery gray eyes snap towards his. “Please, save me!”