#I never draw Raph i should draw him more

[mcducky1356]

He did it! He won Autism!

The @autismswagsummit finals are over— congrats to my favorite boy for winning! Shoutout to all the other contestants too! I can’t think of more worthy competitors!

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they��re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   

[devildomwriter]

A Devildom Easter Egg Extravaganza

Diavolo decides to hold an Easter egg hunt. Shenanigans ensue.

Slight x reader for Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephistopheles, Barbatos

[Student Council Room]

Lucifer: “You really mean to hold…an Easter egg hunt?”

Diavolo: “Why, yes! I think it will be great fun!”

Mephistopheles: “My Lord, everything you do is brilliant!”

Diavolo: “Thank you!”

Mephistopheles: “However…this holiday is in celebration of everything we are against…as is Christmas for that matter but that’s become popular here recently…”

Diavolo: *nodding* “Yes. I understand that these holidays traditionally represent and celebrate our opposites. So celebrating them not only promotes goodwill with the angels and religious exchange students but also draws attention away from its original purpose.”

Lucifer: “I see, so that’s your angle.”

Mephistopheles: “Am I missing something?”

Lucifer: “We are celebrating and promoting the secular traditions instead. Celebrating bunnies, eggs, and candy rather than my father and father-brother.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha.”

Mephistopheles: “Father-brother?”

Lucifer: “We’re done discussing this.”

Diavolo: “Anyway. I think it would be great fun to hide eggs all around RAD for the exchange students and any willing RAD students to join in. I understand it may not be especially popular with demons but I do want to incorporate holidays important to others too. It is vital to accept and learn about each other’s cultures and traditions to better respect and understand each other.”

Barbatos: “Well said, my lord.”

Mephistopheles: “In that case, I’d be more than happy to promote this in the newspaper! Leave it to me.”

Diavolo: “Thank you, Mephistopheles. I knew I could count on you!”

[Purgatory Hall]

Luke: “A what?”

Solomon: “An Easter egg hunt.”

Raphael: “We’ll be busy.”

MC: “Oh, really…”

Simeon: “Yes, we must celebrate our father-brother, after all.”

MC: “That’s such a weird way to say Jesus.”

Raphael: “Those are the only words in your language to accurately describe him.”

MC: “Right. Will you really be in the celestial realm all day though?”

Simeon: “Umm well…”

Raphael: *glaring* “We should be.”

Luke: “…”

Solomon: “You’re going to make Luke sad.”

Luke: “Wh! Hey!”

Raphael: “Luke has no reason to be sad.”

MC: “C’mon Raph, you can’t make a kid miss an Easter egg hunt. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Raphael: “That’s an inaccurate description of cruel and unusual punishment.”

MC: “But it’s true though.”

Raphael: *sigh* “I suppose we can come back after service and the banquet.”

Simeon: “Wonderful!”

Luke: “Yay! Sir Raphael, you’re the best!”

MC: “Okay, the angels are in. Let’s go tell Thirteen.”

Solomon: “I believe Diavolo already has.”

MC: “Really?”

Solomon: “Yes. He said something about some eggs containing special surprises.”

Raphael: “I have a bad feeling about this…”

[Lucifer’s Private Study]

Lucifer: “I have a headache already.”

Solomon: “Hahahaha!”

MC: “So he’s really having her rig the eggs?”

Lucifer: “Many of them yes. I fear she’s taking it overboard, hoping Solomon will find them all.”

Solomon: “How thoughtful.”

Lucifer: “How can you be wise and yet so oblivious, honestly?”

Solomon: “It just shows she’s thinking of me. She really is a good friend.”

MC: “You may need better friends.”

Lucifer: “Considering most of them want to kill you, I’d have to agree.”

Solomon: “Most? I wouldn’t say that most of them do.”

MC: “Even some of them is an issue…”

Solomon: “Well, regardless I think this hunt will be fun. You’ll be participating yes?”

MC: “I already asked if I could hide them instead.”

Solomon: “You’d like to hide them? Not find them?”

MC: “I used to hide them for the neighborhood kids. They’d still turn up years later.”

Solomon: “Don’t you suppose that’s too good at hiding them?”

MC: “You can never be too good at something unless it’s illegal.”

Solomon: “I…suppose that’s true.”

Lucifer: “That is a flawed argument and the fact you think that makes my headache worse, please leave Solomon.”

Solomon: “Only me?”

Lucifer: “That’s what I said.”

Solomon: “Wow, so cruel, Lucifer. I suppose I’ll see you this weekend.”

Lucifer: “Yes, goodbye now.”

MC: “Soooo…what’d you want to talk about?”

Lucifer: “Nothing, I just wanted him to leave and your company soothes me.”

MC: “I thought I was giving you a headache?”

Lucifer: “You do, but it’s nothing compared to Mammon.”

MC: “That’s fair.”

MC: “So are you going to compete?”

Lucifer: “Finding the eggs?”

MC: “Yeah.”

Lucifer: *smirks* “Will I get a reward if I do?”

MC: “Hmm…maybe?”

Lucifer: “I see…then I suppose I will.”

MC: “Yes! This going to be so much fun!” *hugs*

Lucifer: *blushes* “Only you could make me so excited about this holiday.”

[The Day Before Easter | RAD]

Diavolo: “Oh, MC! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be hiding these with you!”

MC: “About that…don’t you want to participate?”

Diavolo: “I think preparing it is just as exciting! Besides, there will be some places by Barbatos too and I won’t know where those are.”

MC: “So, you’ll be looking for the ones he hid?”

Diavolo: “Yes, as I oversee everything.”

MC: “Good, I love to see you have fun!”

Diavolo: “I feel the same way. Hopefully, you’ll do a bit of searching too?”

MC: “Sure, I’ll walk with you and we’ll see who finds them first.”

Diavolo: “A competition? How fun! I can hardly wait.”

Barbatos: “Young master, here are the baskets.”

MC: “That’s…a lot of eggs.”

Diavolo: “Yes, this may take us all night, I’m so excited.”

Barbatos: “MC, be careful not to trigger the traps.”

MC: “How would I know?”

Barbatos: “They’re in separate baskets, just handle them more delicately and take care they don’t open up, even the slightest bit.”

MC: “Right…”

Diavolo: “Oh my, look how this own sparkles, MC, isn’t it just—“

MC: “Where’d he go!?”

Barbatos: “And I just warned him too…”

MC: “Okay, but where did he go?”

In the distance, you hear roaring laughter and look to see a light on in RAD.

MC: “I found him.”

Barbatos: *sigh* “I suppose I should supervise this shouldn’t I?”

MC: “It’ll be okay, I’ll protect him.”

Barbatos: “Ever so reliable, MC. It’s what I love most about you.”

MC: *blushing* “G-Glad you feel that way.”

A small explosion sounds from inside.

MC: “He’s…not being careful. At all.”

Barbatos: “Good luck.”

MC: “What’ve I done?”

[A Few Hours Later]

Diavolo sits next to you on the RAD lawn covered in pink and yellow powder, hair spiked, and hands puffy and pink.

MC: “Sooo….”

Diavolo: “That was so much fun!”

MC: “Thirteen wasn’t happy about resetting them all though.”

Diavolo: “Yes, I did apologize.”

MC: “I think she laughed hard enough to forgive you.”

Diavolo: “Yes it was quite excessive.”

MC: “That’s rich coming from you.”

Diavolo: “Hm? What do you mean?”

MC: “If you laughed and a bomb went off at the same time, I’d hear you.”

Diavolo: “Pfft! Ahahahahaha.”

MC: “My point exactly. Anyway…Barbatos will skin me alive if you come back looking like this.”

You take his hands and whisper an incantation, lips close to his inflamed hands. The pink vanished and his hands returned to normal. Diavolo let out a sigh of relief.

Diavolo: “Thank goodness. That was quite itchy.”

MC: “Now all you need is a serious bath.”

Diavolo: “Oh, will you be giving it to me?”

MC: “Wh—“

Diavolo: “Ahahahaha! I’m only kidding.”

MC: “That’s a shame.”

Diavolo: “What?”

MC: “What?”

Diavolo: *sigh* “Why don’t we go get some rest and meet early again tomorrow before the others arrive.”

MC: “Sounds like a plan.”

Diavolo smiles and ruffles your hair. You attempt to do the same but your hand gets stuck to his gelled hair, the result of an egg surprise. You stare at him, hand stuck in his hair and he stares back at you when a familiar person clears their throat.

Thirteen: “Uh…the eggs have been reset. Am I interrupting something?”

Diavolo: “We seem to be stuck.”

Thirteen: “Hahahah! Serves you right, anyway I’m headed out.”

MC: “You’re gonna leave us here?”

Thirteen: “Yes!”

Diavolo: “I see…I suppose we should call Barbatos?”

MC: “Yeah…”

[Early the next morning | House of Lamentation]

Asmodeus: “MC! You’re finally back! Where’ve you been all night? Don’t tell me you- ooooh!”

Lucifer lightly smacks Asmodeus over the back of the head.

Asmodeus: “Ow! Lucifer you big meanie.”

Lucifer: “Don’t imply such things.”

Asmodeus: “But they were gone aaaalll night. Isn’t that right? And who were they with? The hunky—“

Lucifer: “Be quiet.”

Mammon: “What’s goin’ on down here!?”

Mammon: “Hey! MC! You’re finally back!”

Satan: “I was getting worried.”

Belphegor: “Mmhm.”

MC: “One of Thirteen’s traps went off…”

Lucifer: “I see. That explains things then.”

Asmodeus: “Boo. I was hoping for some gossip.”

Belphegor: “That’s the same thing as saying you hope Diavolo and MC hooked up.”

Mammon: “Hold on, what happened!?”

Satan: “Nothing happened, Mammon. Pay attention.”

MC: “My hand got stuck to Diavolo, that’s all.”

Beelzebub: “Stuck?”

Mammon: “Huh? Stuck where!”

MC: “His head.”

Asmodeus: “Which o—“

All: “Shut up, Asmo!”

You got a few hours of rest before your alarm went off. You already had good morning texts from the angels reminding you of the importance of the day and you smiled and sighed. You changed into your Easter outfit and put on the rabbit ear headband Diavolo insisted all participants wear.

[Easter Morning | RAD Courtyard]

Diavolo: “MC! I’m so glad you’re here!”

MC: “As promised.”

Barbatos: “Good. Participants should be showing up in a few hours and—“

Mephistopheles: “Good morning everyone.”

Diavolo: “Ah, good morning, Mephistopheles.”

Mephistopheles: “Hm? You still have baskets?”

MC: “We couldn’t finish hiding them all…there was a mishap.”

Mephistopheles: “Oh? Of what nature.”

Barbatos: “The details aren’t necessary. Why don’t you take a few pictures of the setup before we begin? See if you can spot an egg and photograph it.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. And MC.”

MC: “Hm?”

Mephistopheles: “Happy Easter?”

MC: “Aww! Thank you Mephisto, that means a lot coming from you.”

Mephistopheles: “What does that mean?”

Diavolo: “I’m so glad to see you embracing change, Mephistopheles. Very well done!”

Mephistopheles: “Naturally! One can’t help but be swayed by your genius and example, my lord.”

MC: *muttering* “Here we go.”

Barbatos: *chuckles*

After a few hours You, Diavolo, and Barbatos had finished hiding the rest of the eggs and just sat down by the sign-in booth when you heard a loud scream coming from RAD.

Barbatos: *sigh* “I told him to photograph the egg not open it.”

Diavolo: “Ahahaha!”

Barbatos left swiftly to investigate and as soon as he vanished around the corner, a loud group approached the booth.

Lucifer: “We’ve arrived. I apologize if we’re late.”

Satan: “Yes, someone wouldn’t wake up.”

Belphegor: *zzz*

Asmodeus: “I can’t believe the bunny ears are staying on even though he’s slumped over Beel’s shoulder. I have to get a picture.”

Beelzebub: “Asmo…”

Asmodeus: “What? It might generate more attention for the event, right?”

Diavolo: “Wonderful idea, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus: “Thank you!”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Mammon: “So…I heard there’d be a prize.”

Leviathan: “Two minutes, I called it.”

Asmodeus: “Tch, I really thought it’d be sooner.”

Mammon: “Huh? Are you betting on me? Without me?”

Satan: “That wouldn’t make any sense idiot.”

Lucifer: “All of you shut up and sign in.”

Leviathan: “Eep! Okay.”

The brothers signed their names. Beelzebub signed Belphegor in for him and you sat around and talked.

Mephistopheles returned with Barbatos looking very flustered and uncomfortable.

Lucifer: “What in the Devildom is that mess?”

Mephistopheles: “Thirteen.”

Lucifer: “Oh. So you set off a trap.”

Leviathan: “Does no one find it alarmingly easy to set them off? Like, didn’t even Lord Diavolo do that?”

You heard an amused chuckle from behind you.

Thirteen: “Duh. That’s what makes it fun.”

Barbatos: “Thirteen. What wonderful timing you have. Mind telling me what Mephistopheles is currently covered in?”

Thirteen: “That’s just a personal concoction of highly flammable spider web spray.”

Mephistopheles: “Of what!?”

Mammon: “Bahahaha!”

Mephistopheles: “Get it off of me this instant!”

MC: “Calm down Mephi, I got you.”

Mephistopheles: “Mephi?”

You brought forth a torrent of water to flush the web off Mephistopheles and then a gust of wind to blow him and his clothes dry.

He was left momentarily stunned before he sighed, patted himself down, and smoothed out his hair.

Barbatos turned on the bright lights around RAD to illuminate the lawn as the other students showed up. The presence of more than a few students elated Diavolo and the happy gleam in his eyes made all the trouble worth it.

Near the end of the thirteenth hour, a beam appeared from the sky. At first, everyone stumbled back in fear but as it disappeared, Simeon, Raphael, and Luke appeared in its place.

Barbatos: “I could’ve opened the portal.”

Raphael: “This was faster.”

Mammon: “Gave me a freakin’ heart attack!”

Raphael: “Why?”

Luke: “MC! I’m here!”

MC: “Hello, Luke! Your Easter uniform is so cute!”

Luke: “Huh? I’m supposed to look gentlemanly not cute!”

Simeon: “You can be both.”

Luke: “No I can’t!”

Solomon: “Good morning everyone. I’m not late am I?”

Simeon: “No. We just arrived.”

Raphael was looking around from the sign-in booth, already scanning the area for eggs as though it were a mission. It gave you chills to see his serious expression but at the same time made you laugh because this was only an Easter egg hunt.

You noticed that Lucifer was doing the same thing but he was being slightly less obvious about it, giving himself reasons to be turned in a certain direction rather than just openly staring.

Luke: “MC! Will you be on my team?”

Mammon: “What? We’re forming teams!?”

Solomon: “Are we?”

Barbatos: *shaking his head* “I suppose if you wanted to you could however anything you find would be evenly split between you and not counted as a whole.”

Satan: “Every demon for themself.”

Lucifer: “I agree.”

Satan: “I’m no longer certain.”

Lucifer: *sigh*

Diavolo: “Hahahaha!”

Belphegor: “Mm…quiet.”

Beelzebub: “Belphie, are you awake?”

Belphegor: “What…what’s on my head?”

Asmodeus: “Those are your bunny ears! And you look adorable!”

Belphegor: “Ugh. Kill me now.”

Asmodeus: “Your sleepy bunny pic has already generated so many likes!”

Belphegor: “My what?”

MC: “So how was the sermon? Is that what it was?”

Luke: *sobbing*

MC: “What’d I do?”

Simeon: “Each year, we visit the past to review the events before and during Easter and the future it will bring.”

MC: “That sounds emotionally traumatic.”

Raphael: “It is. And now we’re here. Looking for eggs…”

Mammon: “Just as father intended!”

Raphael pulls out his spear and Mammon takes off.

MC: “He deserves that right?”

Asmodeus: “Mhm.”

Lucifer: “Honestly…”

Thirteen: “He’s got some guts to piss an angel off on Easter.”

Mephistopheles: “Right. Especially when it’s about their father slash brother or something…”

MC: “Speaking of father and brother…”

You looked between Lucifer and Satan as they watched you. They looked at each other, back at you and Satan bared his fangs as his brothers and Diavolo managed to contain their laughter.

Satan: “Not another word!”

Beelzebub: “They didn’t say anything.”

Solomon: “Hahaha! I get it. Because Lucifer and Satan have the same dynamic.”

As Raphael runs past you he protests this idea and continues after Mammon who’s tripping over bushes in his escape attempt.

Diavolo: “Should we stop them?”

Simeon: “He earned it.” *scary smile*

Luke: “Simeon. You have that scary look in your eyes again.”

Simeon: “Oh, do I? My apologies.”

MC: “Anyway…it’s a good idea you came here after so Luke can recover from his trauma a little more easily.”

Luke: “It never goes away.”

Mephistopheles: “I’m not sure I like the haunted look in your eye.”

Solomon: “It’s weird when Luke is serious.”

Luke: “Hey what does that mean!? I’m always serious.”

Mephistopheles: “Good he’s back.”

Simeon: “Ah, yes. It does weigh heavily on us angels. Thank you for this event, Diavolo.”

Diavolo: “Yes, of course! Speaking of, it’s just about time to begin. Can someone go fetch Mammon and Raphael?”

Lucifer: “I’ll do it.”

Beelzebub: “I’ll go with him.”

Belphegor: “Set me down somewhere first.”

Beelzebub: “Okay.”

Belphegor is placed gently on top of a bush as Beelzebub runs after Lucifer. He begins sinking into the bush and you and the others watch as the branches begin to slowly snap and he disappears into the leaves.

As soon as Raphael and Mammon are reeled in and Mammon is forced to grovel for an apology, Diavolo is given the microphone and you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Mephistopheles work together to hand everyone a woven basket to place their found eggs in.

Diavolo: “Everyone will have an hour to find as many eggs as possible, they are everyone beyond this booth on the RAD ground and I do mean everywhere so give it your best shot!”

Diavolo: “Many of the eggs contain wonderful surprises! Coupons for your favorite cafes, gift cards for your favorite stores, Grimm, fun tokens, cup-cuties, and more! But beware because there are also eggs that contain a wide variety of tricks of all kinds! You should expect flesh-eating piranha plants, bees, angry spiders, blasts of spider webs, teleportation, and potential small explosions!”

Luke and Mammon turned white but the demon students seemed extra excited by this news. Danger was an everyday occurrence for them and simply counted as fun or mildly inconvenient at best. As a human, you had a protection spell placed upon you in case of minor explosions. Luke and Simeon also had protective spells. Raphael opted to forgo this as he “wasn’t weak.”

With a wide smile, Diavolo raised his hand and everyone gathered into groups or faced the directions they planned to scour.

Diavolo: “On your marks!”

Diavolo: “Get ready!”

Diavolo: “Set!”

Diavolo: “GO!”

The ground shook as the hundreds of demons, three angels, reaper, and human sprinted past the booth.

You laughed and Diavolo helped you regain balance and handed you your basket.

Diavolo: “Shall we go observe?”

An explosion went off.

MC: “Yes!”

Barbatos trailed far behind you and Diavolo so you could talk more privately. You passed by students stuck to walls with spider webs. Students dressed more oddly than when they’d arrived. You passed by Mammon hanging from the ceiling and weren’t sure whether it had been Raphael, Lucifer, or a genuine trap. Either way, Diavolo burst into laughter alerting the others to your location immediately.

Barbatos cut Mammon down and you continued to walk with your empty basket as you enjoyed the sounds of chaos all around you.

Diavolo eyed your basket and nudged you gently.

Diavolo: “Is there someone you were hoping to go find eggs with?”

(To be continued | the remaining story with be different based on the character you choose to go with. They are all currently being written and will all be released in the following week unless unforeseen circumstances delay the writing)

[doturtlesdream]

Can you do more trans girl Donnie and Raph? Please? Uh- no pressure if you don’t wanna, just wanted to ask :3

no i appreciate you i love drawing these girlies

i think they’d just devolve into a life of crime

ficlet below ↓

“No. No! Everything is fine!” Raph shouted into her shell cell over the sound of blaring police sirens. “We’re just out for a…drive! We’ll be home soon!”

Donnie shrieked as the car went over another steep hill. Somehow even with the car being airborne and shot at, she felt the need to always be right. “Well actually, with the way this is going, we might never lose these guys!”

“And whose fault is that?! I told you I should drive!”

Donnie spared a harrowing moment to glare over her shoulder. “This is your fault! This wouldn’t happened if you didn’t have the stupid idea to rob a bank!” Then as an after thought–”And sit down!”

“You robbed a what!?”

“Nothing Leo!” Raph delivered a swift kick to the back of her sister’s head, which only increased her incessant shrieking. Raph held the receiver away from her face. “Shhh! Shut up, Donnie! And I only said we should take a couple buck to buy the parts for you-know-what!” 

“Yeah?! Well we wouldn’t need parts to track Shredder’s body if you didn’t kill him.”

“Um, last time I checked dude, you shot him!”

Michelangelo’s voice crackled through the speaker. “They know we can still hear them, right?”

No, we did not know that. Raph grit her teeth in a fake smile. “Hahaha! We’re just joking around. Right, Donnie?”

Donnie yelped as the car swerved, throwing all her body weight to wrestle control of the steering wheel. Stray bullets hit the side of the car. “Yep! Just peachy!”

“See, we’re all good! It’s all good! See you at home!”

“Wait, hold on a se–” Leo’s voice cut out as Raph swiftly hung up. Ok, one problem down. She turned to watch the hijacked police cars closing in. Foot soldiers dangled out the side windows firing stolen guns. A flurry of curses came from the driver’s seat next to her.

Raph sighed. They're not going to be home anytime soon, are they?

[desceros]

tries to sleep, fails, gets melancholy, copes by writing purple turtle fic donatello/reader, gn!reader, rated t, 1.6k. insomnia, friends to.... friends, (were you ever just friends? are you something more? what is love if not friendship shifted an inch to the left?), yearning, yearning, yearning, yearning—

Donatello is sleeping.

Hefting a fatigued sigh, you hover in the doorway to his bedroom for a moment. Staring at his face, taking it in. He’s gotten unfairly handsome as the years have gone by. Beautiful, even. Pretty angles, sharp defined lines, dark seductive eyes. Like this, unmasked, slack in sleep, it’s free for you to look as much as you want. More than you can during the day. A little secret thing just for your own heart’s keeping.

…Best friends shouldn’t want to stare at each other like this, you think with an ache.

It’s late. You can’t sleep. Lying down has provided nothing but racing thoughts you can’t quiet. Things to do tomorrow. Things to say when you see someone. Things to write down if you can hold them until the morning. Things, things, things. So many things in your head, ten thousand little voices like little snowflakes in your skull. Each small, powerless; but together, a force too mighty to outrun.

And Donnie is sleeping. Normally he’s awake. Fiddling, poking, prodding, studying, twisting, cracking, bending. Available to draw you into sleep. Always soothing, petting your hair, cooing at you until you drift off at last to the dulcet sounds of his low rumbles.

But not tonight. Tonight he sleeps, pretty in his sheets even as he’s all sprawled out and drooling. Cute. He’s cute. He’s cute and close enough to touch but so, so far away that you know you never will. Not like that. Not like that. 

It’s late. You can’t sleep. 

Slowly, not wanting to wake him, infuriated with yourself just at the thought that you’d risked it by lingering as long as you have, you peel away from his door frame and sneak into the living room. The couch greets you again. Inviting, soft. It smells like turtle ass. Popcorn. Movie night. It smells like family, like home. Scratchy beneath your cheek. You’ve been meaning to get them some new pillows. The way Mikey had laughed so hard he’d snorted his drink. Leo’s squawk when it got all over him. The weight of Donnie’s arm on your shoulder when he’d leaned on you while laughing until he got the hiccups. His cologne, new, smells nice. You should tell him tomorrow.

(You can’t tell him. There’s no way for a best friend to look at the other with pupils shaped like hearts and be the same. You can’t tell him.)

Heavily, you sigh. It’s late. You can’t sleep.

You sit up. Get up off the couch. Stretch a little before exhaling and walking around a bit to try and work off some of this excess energy. The darkness of the living room isn’t so much, anymore, what with how your eyes have adjusted. You can see the pieces of the evening strewn about. A pizza box that Splinter’s going to find in the morning and yell at the lot of you for not throwing out. Raph’s teddy bear, leaning against the other couch where he’d been pretending he hadn’t been using it to hide his face in the scary parts. Mikey’s cup, half-full, forgotten in Leo’s panic to find paper towels. And—

—Donnie, standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed, arms folded. 

“Why are you awake?” he asks, voice tumbling over your ears like rocks on a riverbed. Guilt strikes you like a blow. He’s exhausted. You’ve woken him up.

“I’m sorry,” you say as an answer, tangling your fingers in the shirt you’d borrowed out of his closet. The shirt you always borrow. The shirt that’s half yours, now. 

Donnie’s quiet. You sink your teeth into your lower lip and hope he’ll shrug and go back to bed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’s got enough sleep juice in him that he’ll drift right back off and forget this happened. 

He doesn’t. “…Can’t sleep?”

The guilt burns your skin like sand in the wind. You smile and pretend. “I’ll be okay. Go back to bed, Don. You need it more than I do.”

He doesn’t. 

“…Please?” you try again. 

You’re met, instead, with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head where his mask would tie if he were wearing it. Lets his arm fall to his side—ah, except no. He’s holding out his hand, palm outstretched, inviting you to come close. When you don’t, his beak wrinkles. “Come here.” 

You take a few steps closer, but don’t take his hand just yet. “What are you doing?”

“Just come here,” he says again, curling his fingers a few times in an imperious grabby command. You come closer. He opens his tired eyes in a squint, mouth dipped into a frown, and his gesture gets more demanding. “Come here.” 

Stepping closer, closer, closer, finally you get within range. You realize he wants your hand the moment he loses patience with you, watching as he rolls his eyes and reaches out to encircle your wrist with strong fingers. They eclipse the bones there easily, tugging as he turns, pulling you out of the living room. 

“Don—” you start to protest, but he stops you with a breath.

“Stubborn,” he accuses, though there’s no heat to the word. The scoff is thick on the back of your tongue—Donnie of all people calling you stubborn—but you don’t let it out, knowing it’ll be too-loud in the pitch night. 

He pulls you into his room, the very room that had been such a sweet siren song to you earlier. He pulls you towards his bed. He pulls you in behind him when he settles in. He pulls you beneath his blanket. He pulls, pulls, pulls, until your chest is flush to his plastron and his arm is around your waist and his breath is in your face and your heart is in your throat.

It’s late. You’re not going to be able to sleep.

“…Go to sleep,” he says after a few seconds, doubtless able to feel the way your pulse is like a hummingbird against his skin. 

“Sorry,” you say in lieu of—anything else. You don’t dare try to say another word, unsure of what exactly would tumble out instead. Perhaps a sweet poem about the texture of his skin against yours. Maybe a lament that he feels the need to tuck his thigh between yours so so so close to where you wake in a pool of sweat dreaming of his touch. Or possibly a whispered confession that tastes like lightning and blood and sugar all at the same time; that you want this but not this, you want this but more. 

Gently, a forehead bonks against yours. Dark eyes open and meet yours, centimeters away. He studies you, and you watch the gears turn. More slowly than usual, lethargic even, because of his slumber. 

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs. Dumbly, you nod. “Need to talk about it?”

“…Yeah,” you admit, then, “…but I won’t.”

He doesn’t like that. A frown mars his beautiful, beautiful face. 

“Why?”

You swallow the incredulous laugh, the kaleidoscope of responses. They’re all irrelevant, impossible to share, save for one. “You should sleep.”

Donnie’s hand tightens, fingers curling in his—your—shirt in the small of your back. “So should you.”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“…I don’t understand.” The confession, rare, makes you sigh. 

“…I don’t either,” you tell him. And you don’t. Why did you have to feel this way for him? Why couldn’t it be someone easier that stole your heart? Why does it have to be the one person you can’t stand to lose? Why does he have to be so comfortable touching you like this and making it hurt even worse? Why can’t you stop feeling this way?

Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? 

His fingers unfurl from your shirt. His hand dips beneath the hem, finding the skin of your back. Slow shivers spread like little earthquakes as he strokes along your spine, tectonic caresses that ripple and destroy. It's familiar enough a touch that you don't stop him; unfamiliar enough that it rends you inside out.

Donnie leans in. Ghosts his lips along your jaw. It’s not a kiss; you’re just friends, after all. But it’s a sweet caress that feels good, all the way to where he lingers at your ear, whispering there, quivering at the touch that's too close to something else to be fair. “Close your eyes.”

You have one rule: listen to Donatello. So you do; you close your eyes, let his nails drag down your back, let his mouth press warm into your pulse, let his chest rumble with churrs that fill the night air with something akin to a lullaby. His legs curl around yours, mixing, confusing, making the separation of you disappear. 

It’s… maddening. You hate this. You love him. You love him so much. You hate that he can do this so easily. 

“Shhh,” comes the gentle coo against your skin, like he can tell you’re pulling away from his intent. You obey that, too. Donnie says to be quiet, so you quiet. Thoughts, movements, words; all of them fall away at his beckoning. “Just like that. Good.”

Good, you think, feeling a little fuzzy. It feels good to be good for him. God. You’d be so good for him—but no. None of that, now. Not when you can pretend that these little presses of his lips are kisses. That the thickness of his thigh pressed to your shorts means something. That his hand scratching lines in your skin is something meant to claim as much as it is to calm.

“Making me work for it tonight,” you hear him mumble, half-conscious of the words, not sure if they’re real or part of a dream he’s built for you. “Good job, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

More brushes of his mouth. A slow glide of tongue. A lovely dream, you think, finally letting your muscles go slack. A dream of a Donatello who would hold you like this, talk to you like this. A Donatello who is more than just your best friend.

It’s late. Finally, warm and held and pulled into a sweet dream, finally, you sleep.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something I’ve noticed is that in the Rise Movie Casey Junior is still in the middle of processing Future Leonardo & Michelangelo’s deaths

The key detail that shows that Casey Junior hasn’t yet fully processed the deaths of Future Leo & Mikey is that there’s difference in how Casey Junior talks about the future versions of Leo & Mikey when compared to how he talks about the future version of Donnie.

Casey Junior: You are the greatest ninja the world has ever seen

Mikey: What do I do in the future?

Casey Junior: You are the most powerful mystic warrior the world has ever known

When Casey Junior talks about the future versions of Leo & Mikey he uses the present tense ‘you ARE the greatest ninja’ or ‘you ARE the most powerful mystic warrior’ however when Casey Junior talks about Donnie’s future self he uses the past tense he says ‘you WERE’

Casey Junior: Donnie, you were the most brilliant, innovative mind of all time

The difference in present & past tense that Casey Junior has when referring to the future versions of Leo & Mikey compared to the future version of Donnie is also most likely a deliberate one since a deleted scene from the movie even draws attention to it

Donnie: I’m sorry, ‘were’? As in... past tense? Does something happen to me in the future? Do I... do I die?

The scene was most likely taken out so that the scene where Casey Junior tells Leo about the fate of everyone in the future would have more impact but the fact that there’s a difference in tense in how Casey Junior talks about the Future Leo & Mikey compared to how he talks about the future version of Donnie shows that Casey Junior is still processing their deaths.

Casey Junior: I never thought I’d see you again! I’m so happy I could hug you!

Though we don’t know when exactly the future version of Donnie dies we do know that it was before the events of the movie’s opening due to the fact that Future Leo has already tied the future versions of Donnie & Raph’s masks onto his sword.

Though we don’t know how much time there is between Future Donnie’s death & the movies opening it’s clear that it was enough time for Casey Junior to process his death & accept him as gone however that isn’t the case for the future versions of Leo & Mikey

Casey Junior: How am I gonna save them all, Sensei? I really wish you were here. Wait, you are! I just need to find you

The future version of Leo & Mikey die in the movies opening, for Casey Junior they’ve only /just/ died & the second he starts attempting to process their deaths & accept that they’re gone, he backtracks immediately when he realises that the past/ present versions of Leo & Mikey are still alive.

Casey Junior: You told me to find the key and stop the Krang

Casey Junior: That’s exactly how you freed all those families from the Krang labour camp

The fact that Casey Junior talks to Leo as if he’s still the same Master Leonardo that trained him is also an indicator of Casey Junior not yet processing Future Leo’s death. While Casey Junior probably had time to deal with living in a world without the future version of Donnie, Casey Junior met Leo & Mikey’s past/ present selves shortly after loosing their future selves in the movies opening.

Casey Junior treats Leo the same way he would his sensei because he wants to act as though nothing has changed, he’s not processing Future Leo & Mikey’s deaths because they aren’t ‘gone’ their past/ present selves are right there.

Casey Junior: Actually, there is something I should tell you

It’s only when Casey Junior sees Mikey try to use his mystic hands, the very thing that killed the Future Michelangelo does it begin to hit Casey Junior that the future versions of Leo & Mikey died.

Casey Junior: Everybody dies fighting the Krang. The world needs Master Leonardo. And all we got is this guy

When Casey Junior confronts Leo on his refusal to act like a leader, it finally fully hits Casey Junior that his family is gone, that everyone he knew is gone, that the past/ present version of Leo isn’t the same person as his Sensei because Leo hasn’t had the experiences that made the ‘Master Leonardo’ that Casey Junior knew.

The anger that Casey Junior displays when he confronts Leo might not only be because Casey Junior is frustrated with Leo’s action but also because Casey Junior is finally moving from denial stage of grief over his Sensei’s death to the anger stage of grief. 

[blindaysblogforturtles]

Everyone's doin it, why shouldn't I? I've got things to say! And unfortunately, Cass cant just draw as if she is a camera looking at them the whole time. So, we still get space for fic!

Hope you like it. It's like, the first time in months I finish a wip. And in record time! You did this, Cass. Thank you so much.

@somerandomdudelmao

It was happening. The red eared slider started small, and grew, and grew, and Donatello tightened his grip on the mug containing what was essentialy his brother's soul. He could allow him to go in, now. Just a little push.

But. What if something went wrong? What if Leo got lost in the way? What if he faded? He was stronger now, but still so fragile.

Raph smiled.

"Trust him, Donnie. He's got this." Raph avoided mentioning Mikey's concerns about the process, things he said only for the sake of confiding into someone else. It wouldn't do any good to make Donnie more anxious.

Donatello sighed and took his hand off the mug, using his ninpo to gently nudge Leo's into his new body. It rebelled, the little flame attached to his field. Scared. I don't want to be alone again, it said. Please. Donnie smiled. You won't. Trust me. He answered back. And after a few seconds of hesitation, the flame complied.

With the source in it, the body grows into the Leo he remembered. Or. Almost. He was healthy, because of course he was, he wasn't about to make a new body just for it to be shitty- but somehow smaller... thinner. Maybe he did something wrong- maybe, maybe Leo's soul didn't have enough energy to become himself-

But then he saw how Casey's eyes stared adoringly at the pod. Casey, who also had more scars and less pounds than he remembered. Donnie hadn't noticed much through his cameras- better yet, he had, but seeing it in person...

Suddently the alarm went off, signalling it was time to take his Lime-o-nardo Pie out of the oven. God, that was awful. Leo would absolutely love it.

With a gentleness only a biological body could muster, Raph lifted Nardo from his pod onto his arms, with a gaze so soft and proud Donnie thought he was about to cry.

They all hovered with warm smiles ready to welcome the leader in blue, barely containing the excitement in being all together again.

Except.

Nothing happened. Casey frowned and before Donnie could say or do anything, gently placed his fingers on his sensei's neck. He gasped.

"What? What happened?!" Raph asked barely below the yelling tone.

"His heartbeat." Casey replied in a whisper. "It's slow. Too slow." He looked at Donnie. "There's something wrong."

Raph quickly set Leo down after a quick nod from Donatello, who put on his goggles and started scanning to find whatever was his brother's ailment. A tense silence followed soon after.

"What... what is the problem?" Asked Casey. He was trembling into Raph's reassuring arms, never once looking away from his sensei. Donnie frowned.

"The good news is, nothing is physically wrong." He answered. "The bad news is, nothing's physically wrong."

There was a pregnant pause.

By Donnie's orders, Raph moved Leo to the place supposed to serve as his bedroom. Donnie tried every possible test he knew, from reflexes to blood test, to little slaps on his face, to begging. Leo's heartbeat was weak and frail. Like his ninpo had been.

This was all his fault. He should've given him more time, should've waited for Mikey to be healed enough to help, should've, should...

He punched Leo's chest, starling Raphael and Casey. They looked flabbergasted as he started doing compressions.

"I'm not letting you go, Nardo. Do you hear me? I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO!" He screamed. Death was not going to take him. He wouldn't let it happen.

So he kept on going, pressing. Forcing Leo's body to intake more air. Up, down, up, down.

Up, down.

But nothing changed in the five minutes it took for him to stop and realize he had been crying. Shit, he was crying in front of Casey. Fuck that, his brother was dying. No. No, no, he wasn't. Donnie could fix it, he could fix anything! There had to be another solution, something to keep him here, something Donnie could do. It didn't matter what, be it joke, scream, reveal his worst secrets, summon a demon with some dark ritual-

-wait. The memory ritual.

"That's it!" He yelled, and barked instructions around. Casey got started with Raph's assistance no questions asked. It was going to work. It had to.

Because he had no idea what to do if it didn't.

With the glowing lights and a final nod of confirmation, they started the ritual.

° ° °

Casey tightened his grip on Leonardo's unresponsive hand. He needed him back. He was 16, he still needed his best friend, his mentor, his sensei.

He felt tears prickle in his eyes. This was all so unfair. Everything was. Why did he have to be strong? Why did he have to see the apocalypse happen? Twice? Why did he have to watch his family die? He was watching him die for the second- the third time!

He had felt so alone here, with strangers wearing the faces of his family. Strangers he loved so dearly but couldn't show or tell. Only, now they could be together again. It was just Leo, now.

"You can't do this to me, sensei. You can't." He breathed. Because he promised to be there to see Casey grow up. He promised to train him until he didn't need him anymore.

But he still did. Now, more than ever. Still needed him as his best friend, as his mentor, teacher, his sensei.

His dad.

"I miss you, dad."

° ° °

It was cold. And surprisingly humid for a mind belonging to someone so heavily associated with fire. His feet touched the watery ground and he looked around.

There wasn't... anything here. Nothing useful, no sign of Leonardo's soul.

He started wandering, ocasionally calling for his brother.

"Leo? Nardo, are you here?" He walked around but saw nothing.

That is, until he looked down. Instead of a reflection, there he was. His twin. Mirrorring his actions and expressions like when they were tots.

"Leo! Leo, can you hear me?" He kneeled and touched the water. It was cool and shallow, but there was a force keeping him from getting in... or getting Leo out. He took notice of Leo mirrorring his expressions and punched the invisible wall. Nothing.

It was as if Leo didn't want to come with him.

"You aren't making things easy, Nardo."

The reflection- Leo just kept mimicking him. Donnie hissed. They had come too far for them to accept being only 3 now. He punched the water wall. They should never be less than 4. He needed. Punch. To get. Punch. His twin.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on!" Punch.

OUT!

The wall broke and without sparing a single second Donatello's hand searched and grabbed the collar of Leonardo's cape.

"Come here, you dumbass!" He pulled and finally - finally! - Leonardo in all his glowing and translucid and barely solid form came out of the water.

His eyes were angry and his face seemed hostile. If it was a mirror for Donnie's own features he didn't know, and it did NOT matter.

"You are coming with me and this is not up for discussion!"

He just snatched him completely from the water, glaring at its lifeless blue glow, barely registering the look of bewilderment and recognition that came across Leo's face.

"FUCK YOU, Death! I'm taking him!"

With his twin - his prize, his other half, his hope - in his arms, Donnie took impulse to leave that place. They were safe, it was going to be okay.

Leo's soul once again rebelled, reaching his armless nub towards the water. Home, his twin senses told him. Leo thought this was home.

"No, you idiot. I am taking you home."

Their eyes met. From the lifeless blue, the soul gripped his arm back and he tightened his hold. He knew that look. Hope. A ninja's greatest weapon, as cheesy as it sounds.

"Trust me, Nardo."

And with no need of words, he heard an answer.

"I do, Tello."

"I'll see you on the other side."

° ° °

Again, I hope you like it. I'm happy with the end result.

[nerves-nebula]

start | Prev | The End! you're here!!

page 50

AND SO HERE WE REACH THE END. THE EPILOGUE. THE 50TH PAGE OF MY 20 PAGE COMIC. BRILLIANT. I hope i never do this again. good lord. I can’t say it isn’t satisfying to end something like this but MAN did this balloon. This was because I got an ASK, do you guys remember that?? Do you remember that i started this comic on a whim?? Because I got an ask?? And then i held a poll about what comic I should make??? THAT WAS MONTHS AGO.

I considered adding one more page that's just a wide shot of Raph watching Splinter looking at Leo but I figured you get the point well enough already.

here's some round up fun facts under the cut!

this script is 3596 words long

it spans 8 pages of my 90 page tmnt google doc

it was originally supposed to be around 20-30 pages AT MOST

the reason behind its specific style choices is that I was IN THE MIDDLE OF COLLEGE when i started it and i wanted to be able to make pages as fast as possible. so i created a limited color palette so that i wouldn't over do things. i still kind of over did things tho.

because the point was to draw pages as fast as possible I frequently make little mistakes like forgetting to draw bandages, knee/arm pads, masks, and donnie's entire glasses.

one of the most frequently forgotten things i think is Raphs hand bandages. i think i draw him without them more than i draw him WITH them ;_;

when I started this i wasn't going to include anything to do with CSA, because I was unsure that people wouldn't be weird about it

halfway through the comic, I started to write Donnie with a stutter. this is because I was still developing the characters when I started this comic and it was supposed to help me figure out their emotions more, so quite a few decisions were made about them in the middle of script writing & the days/weeks between drawing pages. that's how you end up with shit like Donnie suddenly developing a stutter.

because of the placement of when i decided to write him with a stutter, it kind of looks like he develops it after a particularly traumatic memory, and i think thats kind of funny.

THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE LONGEST FINISHED COMIC I’VE EVER MADE.

anyway, thanks for reading :)  

[hunterwritesstuff]

Adam x fem overlord reader, who’s shorter then him, (before fall Adam) and he’s just super possessive and protective so much so that he set up a task team to kill her rivals so she doesn’t have to worry! Hcs and oneshot plz!!!

Gonna do just oneshot, hope that's okay! Hope ya enjoy! :D

"Angelic Assaults."

"What's the damn problem, Michael?!" Adam snapped.

The taller Archangel sighed, shaking his head as he turned over the other's request in his head. "Adam, you know how many hoops we had to jump through for you last time."

Adam growled, a frown growing on his face. "If we do too much, He'll notice something is up." Michael warned.

"I THINK MY GIRLFRIEND IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN-" Adam started, getting cut off.

"Adam, whatever happened to Eve?" Uriel asked. "You were supposed to be with her. Eloping with another woman-a sinner, Hells, and OVERLORD of all things-will draw eyes." He added.

"I don't give two shits!!! I want HER and I want her SAFE and I want it NOW!!" Adam yelled.

"You are acting like a child, Adam. You know we cannot bring much death without questions arising. And I must preserve my own angels for when they are called upon for serious matters, not silly matters of the heart." Azrael signed.

"Maybe you SHOULD start caring, Adam. Do you want your rank and title taken away? Do you want to FALL, Adam?" Michael asked.

"YOU get to dole out your angels for errands all the fucking time!!! Why is it any different when I ask?!?" Adam demanded.

"It is different because they are MY ANGELS, Adam. I can ask them to do as I please. They never slaughter, they never maim. They never do as you are requesting of them to do." Michael scowled, narrowing his eyes.

Adam groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "You're being a pain in the ass, Mike!!" Adam snarled.

"You cannot change our minds on this, Adam. You may be the first man, but you have no power over us." Uriel informed.

Adam paused a moment. Yes. Yes he did. He did have power over them. He had control over them. He had knowledge that nobody else in Heaven outside of the Archangels did.

"...then I suppose you wouldn't mind people learning about Raph?" Adam asked coyly, the others' eyes widening, stepping back.

"Shut up. The walls here are thin." Michael warned.

"Adam, you cannot use such a situation lightly." Uriel scowled.

"What? I'm sure Heaven would LOOOOOOOOOVE to hear that you-" Adam paused, taking a deep breath. "SENT RAPHAEL TO TH-" He started, raising his voice to be fairly loud.

"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN." Michael hissed.

"How many men do you need?!" Uriel asked desperately.

Adam smirked. This would be easy.

[halogalopaghost]

Doctor On Call

read on AO3

“Hey Donnie, is this infected?”

Donatello jerked away from his workstation as Mikey’s foot came down on it heel-first. A large nodule stuck out from the lateral interior of his foot—red, angry, and (oh, goody) leaking.

He wrinkled his nose and used his screwdriver to push the foot unceremoniously off his desk. “How’d you even manage to get a blister there? We don't wear shoes, Mikey.”

He laughed. “You’re tellin’ me, dude. But uh, it kinda hurts, so—”

Donnie heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Hang on, let me go sterilize a needle.”

---

“Y’know how you said to never remove a weapon if you’re impaled?”

Don swiveled around in his chair, only able to see a green and red blur through his magnifying visor. He pushed it up and away from his eyes with the back of his grungy hand, and found a little more red decorating the scene than he would have liked.

“Raphael,” he began evenly, “would you care to explain how this happened?”

Standing on the threshold of his brother’s lab, Raphael shifted from foot to foot. The sai embedded in his shoulder wobbled slightly, but he didn't so much as wince. “No,” he finally said.

Donnie put a hand to his face for a moment, drawing in a steadying breath. “At least have the decency to go get the suture kit, then.”

Raph grinned guiltily, then went for the kit.

---

“Heeey, Donnie,” Leo drawled.

Donatello froze, hunched over his workspace. “What did you do?”

Leo must have taken that as an invitation to enter, because his bare feet padded farther into the room, stopping just behind Don. He rested a hand heavily on his brother’s shoulder. “Why assume I did something? Do I need an ulterior motive to check in on my little bro?”

Donnie’s mouth thinned into a line as he stared bemusedly at his latest robotics project. “Well we could start with the slurred speech and the weave in your gait.”

He shrugged Leo’s hand off and turned around in the worn desk chair. It was lucky he did, it gave him just enough time to snatch Leo’s arm before he completely busted his shell. The fast-bruising welt on his head proved Don’s theory.  

“Did you hit your own head, or did Raph finally snap?”

For a second, Leo looked like he was going to deny it, then his shoulders fell and he sighed. “I lost a fight with the cabinet above the stove. Think you could check for a concussion?”

“Only if I get lifetime mocking rights,” he shot back. “Fearless Leader Felled by Cast Iron Pan From Above, what a headline.”

Leo sat heavily on the spare stool. “Fine, fine.”

Don plucked his penlight from the pencil cup and swiveled toward his brother. “See, this is why Mikey doesn’t let you in the kitchen.”

---

“Excuse me, Donatello.”

Donnie startled in his chair. Master Splinter always surprised him like that; he could hear his brothers coming from a mile away, but never their father. He stood and turned to face him, bowing quickly. “Yes, Sensei—oh.”

Master Splinter stood on the threshold of the lab, holding out his shaking paws—the pads of which were an angry red, and growing blisters quickly. Donatello practically picked his father up in the process of getting him to a place to sit down.

“Leo!” He hollered in the general direction of the dojo, hoping that’s where his brother was. “Bring ice! Sensei, you should have put these under the faucet immediately,” he chided softly.

“Yes, my son, I realized that halfway here.” He chuckled, despite how painful it must have been to have Donnie poking and prodding at his hands. “What is it that you say? Six, half dozen?”

Donnie laughed too, he couldn't help it. Anything sounded like a wise old Japanese proverb when Master Splinter said it. And the fact that his first thought had been to go to his son…well, Donnie knew he was no doctor, but it was touching how much trust his family placed in him.

Leo, bless him, showed up less than sixty seconds later with ice wrapped in a thin dish towel. “Sensei!” He sucked a breath through his teeth, catching a glimpse of his burned paws before Donnie placed the ice on top of them. “What happened?”

He looked at his sons from beneath his thick brows, one ear twitching. “We shall tell your brothers a different story, but…I was trying to make tea,” he finally relented.

Donnie’s hand audibly smacked against his forehead. Leave it to the master ninja to give himself partial thickness burns with a pot of water.

Leo laid a hand on Sensei’s shoulder. “We’ll tell Raph and Mikey that you were training and save you the torment.”

Sensei laughed again, more heartily this time. “Thank you, my sons.”

Donnie took the ice away from his hands. “Hmm, that doesn't look good. Let's go back to the kitchen and run them under water, okay?”

“Of course, Donatello. Thank you.”

Holding onto Sensei’s elbow as they left for the kitchen, Donnie beamed at the praise.

---

Three things happened at once: first, a string of very colorful language drifted from Donnie’s lab over to where his three brothers sat in front of the television; the power flickered twice and then cut out; and in the very brief, very dark silence that followed, the fire alarm in Donnie’s lab began shrilling.

All three of them jumped up without a word to one another, expertly navigating their home in the dark. 

“Donnie!” Leo called, skidding into the dark lab.

Raphael clambered on top of a workbench to silence the alarm, sending Donnie’s projects and gadgets tumbling all over. There was no fire, just the smell of smoke.

“Don?” Leo tried again. He stilled, briefly confused that he couldn't find his brother in the dark. Usually he would at least hear his breathing—

Oh shell, he wasn't breathing.

The three of them realized as one, and the scramble began anew. Leo fell to his hands and knees to find his brother, Mikey went for the emergency floodlight on the wall, and Raph left the lab altogether. By the time he came back with the AED, Leo was already halfway through a round of compressions.

CPR on a turtle was…complicated. Their hearts were dead center in their chest, to begin with, which meant ‘the medial joint of their plastron’s scutes prevented compressions too deep’, as Donatello had so technically said. Donnie assured them all that if a scute was cracked or bruised during compressions, it would be okay. But now that Leonardo actually had his brother's plastron beneath his palms, hearing and feeling the groan of it every time he pressed down, he didn't feel so certain.

Raph knelt on Donnie’s other side while Mikey stood over them with the flashlight, trying to illuminate as much of the scene as possible.

“Do you smell that?” Mikey asked, voice shaking.

Yeah, they smelled it. Burned flesh was hard to miss. But treating whatever other wounds Donnie had sustained had to come second to his heart.

Raph tore the paper off the AED pads and carefully placed them just like Don taught him, then pressed the on switch. They all nearly jumped out of their shells when Donnie’s voice, thin and tinny, came out of the AED. “Analyzing cardiac rhythm,” it said. 

Raph wanted to cover his ears. If the last time he heard his brother’s voice was from the stupid AED—

“Administering shock. Stay clear of the patient.”

“Clear,” Raph said.

“Clear,” both of his brothers echoed, Leo holding his hands up near his head to prove it.

“Shock will be delivered in 3…2…1…” Donnie jolted once as electricity shot through him. “Shock administered, check pulse and breathing and resume compressions if necessary.”

Raph put his fingers on Don’s neck, then shook his head. Leo moved to resume compressions, but he signaled him to stop. No, there was something there…

Both brothers froze.

“I have a pulse, but he’s not breathing.” Without giving his brothers any time to respond to that information, Raph lifted one meaty fist and brought it down hard on the center of Don’s chest. 

Donnie took a deep breath, eyes flying open in terror. He wobbled on his shell, off-balance in a panicked effort to flee. Three sets of hands came down on his chest to stop him.

“Donnie, don't move,” Leo said urgently. He took his brother’s pulse, actually timing it this time, and listened to his heavy, ragged breathing for a moment.

The power came back on.

“What the fuck, Don!” Raph yelled.

He looked between his brothers, clearly disoriented, but less panicked with a good view of his surroundings. “Sorry,” he gasped out. He accepted his their help as he struggled to sit up, hands over his plastron. “Ough, my chest. What happened?”

Leo grabbed his hands, flipping them palms up. He wrinkled his nose. Well, he figured out where the burned flesh smell came from—Donnie’s palms were both blistered and slightly charred, but it didn't seem to cover too much surface area.

“We were kinda hopin’ you could tell us,” Raph sighed out, adrenaline ebbing.

Donnie eyed the AED, then looked over Raph’s head up to his workstation. He blinked a few times, then smiled sheepishly. “I, uh. I think I forgot to unplug it.”

They followed Donnie’s eyes up to the unidentifiable appliance on the workbench. Whatever it was, Donnie had long stripped it of its housing and any other identifiable features. Other than that it was made of metal and plugged into the wall, they didn't have a clue what it was.

“You knucklehead,” Raph muttered. “I’d kill you if I hadn’t just finished savin’ your skin.” He ripped the pads off Don’s chest and tossed them in the AED bag, standing up to wash his hands of the whole affair.

Mikey scooted into Raph’s spot and threw his arms around Donnie’s neck. “Don’t ever do that again! I thought you were toast, bro!”

“Don’t do what again?” Splinter appeared in the doorway, body-blocking Raphael. He tapped his cane on the ground, whiskers twitching.

“Oh—Sensei, uh. I just had…an accident. Everything’s okay now. No need to worry.” He tried for a smile. It was too wobbly to be reassuring. 

He gave all four of his sons an incredibly unamused stare. They all ducked their heads, still unwilling or unable to stick their ground in the face of that all-knowing look. “Leonardo, how badly is he wounded?”

“It’s not too bad, Sensei.” He held Donnie’s burned hand out, showing him the minor damage. “I’m more worried about the fact that your heart stopped, Donnie.”

Donatello had the decency to look ashamed. “It probably didn’t stop,” he muttered. “Most likely, it was ventricular fibrillation.”

“Oh, that sure makes me feel better,” Raph drawled sarcastically. “I guess he’s fine, guys, let’s all hit the hay. Are you stupid, Donnie? No—don’t answer that.”

“I’m fine! You guys knew exactly what to do, so I'm fine. Just a little bruised up.”

Splinter, with his ears pressed flat against his head, closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. “You four will be the end of me. Donatello, be honest—what side effects should we prepare for?”

He pulled his hands away from Leo, using the side of one to rub absently at his chest. “Uhh, nothing much. Just, uh, that my heart doesn’t…stop again. Or something like that.”

“Oh, sure, nothin’ too serious,” Raph scoffed.

Only the telltale twitch of their father’s whiskers alerted them to his vague irritation. “You will be sleeping in the infirmary bed tonight, my son. Come, help your brother up.”

Mikey and Leo got Donnie to his feet pretty quickly, and Raph put a hand on the back of his shell as if to say ‘there, I participated, are you happy?’ They helped him the few steps to the infirmary cot, which Donnie was surprised to actually need. Not only did his legs seem unwilling to comply—it seemed that the electricity had left an exit wound on the bottom of his left foot.

Master Splinter sat in the chair beside the cot, pulling the rolling cart of medical supplies closer to himself. “I will treat the burns while you set up the heart monitor.”

“Guys, really, I'm okay.” Even as Leo started sticking EKG nodes on him and Raph clipped the pulse oximeter on one green finger, he protested. “The likelihood of going into v-fib again is infinitesimal.”

“Ahh, darn, looks like we can't comply with your complaints if we can't understand the words yer usin’,” Raphael drawled.

Splinter gently drew Donnie’s burned hand into his own. “My son, it is you that so often cares for us when we are injured or unwell. Let us return the favor now and care for you.”

Donnie smiled in spite of himself, looking down at his lap as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Sensei.”

“Didja hit your head on the way down?” Raph asked, standing behind his head.

“Uh, I don't think so. No bumps, no headache.”

“Good.” A smack reverberated around the room. “Be smarter next time, genius.”

Don lurched forward, hands raised instinctively to protect the head that Raph smacked. “Ow! Talk about insult to injury!”

“That's actually injury to injury,” Raph corrected, leaning into his field of vision. “You die, an’ I'm gonna dig you up just to kill you again. You hear?”

Donnie winced as Master Splinter made his first pass with the antibacterial gel on his hand. “Loud and clear, boss,” he grumbled.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to let himself be taken care of.

Just this once.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝…? ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟷𝟷: 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 💗)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟽𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔���𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢….𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 *𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎*

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚊.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙼𝙶‼️‼️‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Dreams were one thing. 

Mikey loved dreams. 

He adored dreams in fact. 

It was…his escape from reality; sort of like drawing in a sense. Except, when he dreamt…he didn’t have to do a single thing.

He could do anything he wanted…whenever he wanted without having to get the 'a-okay' from anyone.

And plus, the best part about dreams was that if there was an ice cream cat barfing up sprinkles…Mikey wouldn’t question it oneeeeee bit. 

That was the magical part about dreams. 

But…there were always two sides to a coin.

…Nightmares…were the opposite of dreams…

…And they were a whole other thing.

They could turn your most happiest memories and moments into horrid and scary ones.

It could turn the most greenest of valleys into nothing but dry ash, blowing away in the wind and fluttering and intoxicating the air. 

Or…perhaps…maybe nightmares were just…lonely. 

Perhaps…it was just lonely to be alone, watching you sit in your room as you break into cold sweat, the darkness weighing you down like a ton of bricks. 

And maybe the nightmares wanted you to be there with it…so it wouldn’t have to be alone…

'I could be lonely with you' as Beach Bunny would say…

But back to the initial topic, Michelangelo always hated having nightmares.

But what he hated more was not even remembering what said nightmares was about. 

It was terrifying for sure— I mean— he woke up from it so it must’ve been really…bad…right?

The box turtle sighed loudly, running a tired and shaky hand down his face.

…He should probably get some water while he’s awake; his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

Or, better yet, Mikey could go find his brothers.

Well…one of them. Or at least see if anyone was awake.

The light scarlet eyed mutant hopped down from his bed, hugging himself with one of his blankets as he made his way towards the hallway, the darkness almost consuming him in the process. 

Even as a little kid, the box turtle was never fond of the dark. 

…You could never see beyond it. 

It was cold and…just, well, dark in general if that makes sense. 

Michelangelo never understood the appeal some people had to it.

The only time he did welcome darkness, though, was when there was light occumpining it. 

Like the moon. 

Or the stars. 

Or even car lights! 

It was Mikey’s small reminder that no matter where he was, there was always some glow or gleam with him…

So relitavley speaking, he should head to where the nearest light was…which was his immiediate older brother’s room. 

The smallest turtle opened Leo’s car door ever so slightly, peeking inside to see a very sound sleeping slider. 

The youngest buried down his disappointment as he quietly closed the door, going back into the darkness once more.

Leo barely got any sleep as is…

…And besides…the chance of accidentally waking him up was waaaay too high. 

It was fine, anyway. Mikey could try going to Raph’s! 

Michelangelo dragged his orange blanket with him, putting it around his shoulders as he tip-toed to Raphael’s room…surely he was awake, right? 

“Raph…?” The youngest called out quietly, looking into his older brother’s room. The smallest mutant wasn’t greeted with a small grunt of acknowlgemnt nor a kind Raph greeting.

What the light scarlet eyed teen was greeted with, though, was a loud, ear pierecing snore from the snapping turtle. 

Mikey snickered softly at his brother’s loud noises, going into the room and giving him his favorite Squishmello that was on the floor.

The alligator snapping turtle smiled in his sleep, squishing the plushie to his chest and his tail wagged slightly. The smaller turtle giggled at the action, walking out and closing the car door.

Alright…so the odd’s on Donnie being up…were…rather…slim but it was fine! 

Quite very much fine.

If the softshell was asleep, the light scarlet eyed mutant would just hed back to his room…alone; in complete darkness. 

…But it would be fine…!

Probably.

The box turtle quickly and quietly shimmied to his purple loving brother’s room buuut not before tripping over his own feet and stumbling in front of Donnie’s train car door.

And Mikey was supposed to be a ninja…pfft, yeah right. 

The youngest turtle got up on his feet, brushing off his knees and shoulders as he grabbed his blanket from the floor. 

Maybe if he just stood perfectly still until the crack of dawn…Donnie wouldn’t wake up…!

Besides, it’s not like the softshell heard him or anything.

“I can hear you trying to be quiet over there, Mikes.” The second oldest deadpanned, turning around of his bed so him and his little brother shared eye contact.

Well shit…

The youngest’s stomach twisted and turned with guilt, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned on the doorway nervously, “Oh! H-Hey, Dee…sorry…did I wake you up…?” Michelangelo asked guiltily. 

“Eh, kinda. But it’s alright.” Donatello yawned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on his bed, reaching for his desk as he put on his glasses. 

“…Are you going to come into my very humble abode or are you just going to continue to stand there?” The taller turtle asked, squinting into the darkness where the youngest was almost being consumed by.

Mikey shook his head ever so slightly, closing the door and hopping into Donnie’s bed with his blanket. The elder hugged the smaller turtle tight, rubbing his shell gently as Michelangelo melted into the embrace. 

The box turtle buried his face in his older brother’s chest as the other rested his chin at the top of the smallest turtle’s head, “Mhmmmm…your warm as fuck…”

Donnie bit back a loud laugh, instead, smiling faintly as he rolled his eyes fondly. 

Typical Mikey…

The second oldest wrapped his younger brother tighter in the hug, “Your literally using me as a blanket right now. I’m not your own personal heater, y'know.” 

“Ehhhh…you kinda are to be honest.” The other snickered. 

“Oh? You're just using me for my body heat, huh? And here I thought you loved me for me…” Donatello sniffled theatrically, wiping away a fake tear for dramatic effect.

“I do! But I also love you for your body heat.” The younger turtle giggled snarkily. 

Donnie scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he smiled; he couldn’t help but chuckle faintly.

"You're such a dunderhead, y'know that?” The older said as he scribbled at the youngest’s sides, grinning as Mikey almost immediatley squealed with laughter. 

“Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, being all sentimental and caring...and all you care about is my toasty body heat.” Donatello fake seethed, scribbling where the younger’s plastron met his shell. 

Michelangelo screeched loudly at his brothers squiggly and wriggly fingers, hugging his middles before turning around so his shell faced the young scientist. 

The light scarlet eyed turtle squealed, kicking his legs from under the bed sheets as his brother continued to tickle him, “N-NohoHAH! D-Deehee cahahome ohon dohon’t doohoo thihihis!” He squeaked, pulling on Donatello’s arms. 

“And where do you think you’re going, little brother?” The taller turtle asked, wrapping one arm around Mikey’s chest so his arms were at his sides. “You’re not going anywhere~!” Donnie grinned before scribbling his free hand all long the younger’s stomach. 

“OHO FAHAAAHACK! DEEHEE NOHO STAHAP!! THAHAT’S SOHO SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” Michelangelo screeched whilst laughing loudly and hysterically, kicking his legs so much that the blankets soared high in the air and fell on the floor. 

'And she was a fairy' ahh moment…

“I’m going to tickle you foreveeeeer! Eeheevihil lahahaugh!” The purple hoodie wearing mutant announced as he nibbled the crook of his baby brother’s neck.

Donnie laughed along with the other, his mind flashing back to times when they were very little…

…When they would lay together in the dark with fairy lights hung around the ceiling, infodumping about shows and movies as he would hold his younger brother close to him to keep him warm…

…It was just like when they were little kids.

Well, almost like when they were little kids. 

In their early childhood years there was definetly less hyena cackling…that was for sure.

“GAHAHAD DAHA— squeal NOOOHOHOHO!” The younger mutant squealed, shaking his head as a faint blush spread to his cheeks.

“Yeeeeeeees~!” Donatello playfully cooed, “And stop your loud Tom-foolery! You’re going to wake up the entire lair!”

“THEHEN STAH— squeal!! GOHOD— squeak SCREHEHEW YAHA— YOHOU! STOHOHAP TIHICKLING squeak MEEHEEHEE!” Mikey yelled through his laughs. 

“But you looooove it~!” The other smugly countered. 

“DEEEEEHEEHEE! PLAHAHEASE! YOHOUR GOHOHONNA KILL MEEHEE!!”

“Kill yohou?” The elder mutant asked in awe, pausing the tickling for a split second before mercilessly prodding where the other’s ribs would be.

The reaction was almost immediate as Michelangelo let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into hysterical fits of laughter. 

Mikey thrashed and squealed helplessly, throwing his head back on his older brother’s shoulder. “DOHOHAHA— squeak DOHOHAHANNIE!!”

“You are conversing with Donatello; yes?” 

“PLAHAHAHEASE!”

“Please what~? Pleeeeease keep tickling you~? Pleeeeease tickle tickle your oh-so ticklish ribs~?” 

“N-NAHAH! THAHAT IHIS NOHOT WHAHA— squeal IHI DIDN’T MEEEHEAN THAHAAAT!”

The softshell chuckled lowly, holding his baby brother’s wrists above his head as he lightly nibbled his ribs. 

The box turtle squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back once more as he could do nothing but happily laugh. 

“D'awww~! Are Mikey’s wittle wibs tickwish~?” Donnie teased, using his free hand to flutter along the orange cladded turtle’s neck.

“AAAAAHAHAHAH— SQUEAK!! NONONOHOHO! DEEHEE DEEHEE NOHO— SQUEAK SQUEAK— NAHAHA— SQUEAL— NOHO MOHOHORE!!!”

“No more~? Are you sure~?”

“YEHAHAHAH! YEHEHES YEHE— SQUEAL YEHEHES!!” 

Donnie gave his brother one last poke at the rib before stopping and hugging him from behind, resuming the gentle shell rubs. “I guess I really am nothing more than your own personal heater, hm? Just a walking furnace at your command…”

The box turtle mutant groaned loudly, flicking the taller turtle’s forehead slightly, “Deeeehee yohou knohow damn wehell thahahat’s nohot true.” Mikey pouted, snuggling in the embarce. 

"Yeah, yeah…I know, I know. You supposedly love me for more than just my body heat.”Donatello said as he let out a huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. 

The elder wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, resting his chin on the orange cladded teen’s head once more. 

The smaller turtle giggled at the action before yawning, snuggling into the other’s plastron, “Lohove yohou, dorkwad…”

“Pfft— dorkwad? Is that the best you can do? Really?” The softshell snickered. 

“Is ahass faced Atomic Lahass fuhucker good enohough fohor you?” The box turtle asked snarkily. 

“I’ll stick with dorkwad, thanks.” The older giggled. 

“That’s whahat I thohought.” Mikey grinned as he yawned, resting on his face on his brother’s chest, “Lohove you, Dee.”

“I love you too, Angelo.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[azucar-skull]

How Many Sorrys Does It Take To Fix This?

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @dorky-pals)

Fandom: Rise Of The TMNT (post movie)

Prompt: I don’t know how to apologize., any turtle angst

Word Count: 963

Posted on AO3 too!

-----------------------------------------

Leo was never one to say sorry. In most cases, his pride had always been first and foremost priority in any argument or fight.

Yet there he was, his neck clutched around Raph’s kraang arm. Lowering his hands to his side.

“If this is it, I want you to know I finally understand… A-and I’m sorry…”

And now…here he is, hours after saving the world and getting his ass whooped by the Kraang. Sitting at the dinner table with Raph on the other end. And…eugh boy…did Raph want to have a talk with him.

There’s a lot of awkward silence for a long moment, only the ticking of the kitchen clock making any sound. Leo would do anything to get out of this.

“So…how’s your eye?”, Leo draws out.

“It’s healing.”, Raph nods. His eye is still covered in gauze and there’s high debate about how it’ll affect his sight.

Leo nods slowly. “...Cool.”

More silence. More awkwardness. Leo drums his digits against the table.

“Soooo-”

“I’m sorry.”, Raph speaks up.

Leo blinks. Twice. Processing what Raph just said. “...What?”

Raph takes a heavy sigh. “I don’t know how to put this. I don’t know where to even begin with this so I might as well just come out and say it.” His eyes meet Leo’s. “I’m sorry.”

Leo pauses for a moment, brows furrowing as the gears are turning very slowly in his head. Did I get a concussion back in the prison dimension or something?? And the way Raph isn’t speaking in the third person let’s Leo know he’s been super serious.

“What could you possibly be sorry for?”, Leo asks, more confused.

“I don’t know! Beatin’ you up? Tryin’ to actively kill you?”, Raph throws his hands out more agitated. “I mean, c’mon, Leo!”

“But that wasn’t you.”, Leo argues. “You were under Kraang’s control. The last thing I remember you doing was…” Leo glances down at the table, clasping his hands together. “Was you saving me when I went to get the key. If anything I should be sorry. You had to use your escape pod on me when I abandoned mine. I should’ve listened to you.”

“No. No.”, Raph argues back. “You were just doin’ what Casey Jr asked you to do and warned us ‘bout the Kraang. I’m the one who should be sorry, I couldn’t protect you-”

“You wouldn't have had to protect me if I actually listened to you when you said “I got it”. I was so focused on being cocky and trying not to bruise my pride that I messed up the entire mission and caused the apocalypse-”

“That shouldn’t be on you! That should’ve never been on you, Leo, ever! It was my fault, okay? I should’ve taught ya to be a better leader instead of arguin’ with you over a pizza stack competition-”

“But that was on me! I made Donnie and Mikey ditch out on training to do some stupid activity because I didn’t want to listen to you, I was being petty-”

“Ya weren’t listenin’ because I didn’t help you prepare enough. We got into another fight and you took it upon yourself to help cheer up our brothers-”

“Our brothers who should’ve never been involved in the first place. But they had to because I was too stubborn to let you knock me down a peg and get me to listen-”

“But I shouldn’t have fought with you! I let my anger take over and couldn’t control myself. I should’ve never had use my strength against you or any of our brothers-”

“ENOUGH!”

Leo’s anger spills over in a shout. The bickering stops. Raph stares wide eyed at Leo, noticing how he’s leaning over the table with clenched fists. The slider sighs and flops back in his chair.

“Just…enough.”, Leo laments. “I’m tired of fighting with you, Raph.”

Raph's expression softens, recognizing that tired look in his little brother’s eyes.

“You want to keep coming at me? Go ahead. I’m done fighting you.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Raph sits back in his chair, unclenching his fists. He heaves a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes to hold back tears of the memory.

Leo’s brows upturn more, frowning sympathetically.

“Can we just admit we’re both in the wrong here?”, the slider asks the snapper. “I’m sorry for not listening and you’re sorry for pushing me so hard or not pushing me enough or however to get me to listen.”

Raph sighs. “I don’t want to fight you anymore either, Leo. I just… I just care ‘bout you so much. It would kill me to see ya get hurt.” His eyes scan his brother up and down at all his bandaged wounds, scars, and cracks on his shell. “But I guess it didn’ even matter.”

“It doesn’t. Our injuries are the result of both our failures.”, Leo nods. “But we fail together.”

Raph can’t help but smile at that. “We fail together.”

Raph gets up, walking across the table to Leo’s side. He holds out a hand with a sad but warm smile on his face.

“Brothers?”

Leo’s eyes widen for a moment before smiling back, standing up and taking Raph’s hand. He nods. “Brothers.”

Raph chuckles as he pulls Leo in for a hug, rubbing his knuckles against his brother’s head which gets a laugh out of him. But Leo’s laugh is cut short when Raph hugs him just a bit too tightly.

“Ow! Raph, Raph, be careful. My shell!”, Leo winces.

Raph immediately pulls back from the hug. “Omigosh I’m so sorry!”

“No, no you’re good. I should be sorry, I wasn’t being careful-”

“No, I’m sorry because-”

“Oh my GOOOOOOD we’re never gonna stop saying sorry to each other, are we?”

-----------------------------------------

I have that one Justion Bieber song stuck in my head now

[zinzabee]

A Message for the RotTMNT Fans

For everyone who is afraid of drawing Rise Raph because of his large body type and proportions, I am here to give you this message: I promise you, I would much rather see you try your best effort and it look a little wonky than for you to exclude him entirely from your art and doodles.

The reason I am able to draw Raph as well as I am right now is because I learned how to draw fat/muscular/chubby body anatomy in my early art career. But it's really never too late to start practicing! I encourage you, I implore you even, to take a few small steps out of your comfort zone for a bit and see where it takes you. If you want to draw him (or any favorite character from a piece of media you love, really) but are intimidated because of their size being abnormal from the thin/skinny, I want you to know that it's okay to be scared. What's not okay is giving up, quitting, or not even trying to attempt their bigger proportions at all. Because then that will bleed over into the rest of your art style/mentality, and there are aspects of your art that you may never improve on because of that. You don't know until you try.

I know it may feel awkward at first, and you may be intimidated by the pressure of getting it right, less anyone make fun of you or you get caught by peers or non-artists and be judged. Trust me, I know. I have been there! It's not a pleasant experience. But if you want to get better as an artist, you need to learn different body types. You need to unlearn the internal fatphobia that society has ingrained into your brain. You need to free yourself and allow yourself to make mistakes as you learn and practice to get better.

Raph is such a wonderful character and he deserves just as much love as all the other brothers, but I've talked to so many artists who all repeat the same thing; "He's so hard to draw." "I can't get his shapes quite right." "I don't draw him that much because I'm intimidated." You are 100% valid for these feelings, I promise. But I think it's for these reasons that you should draw him anyway, and learn his shapes, and learn to draw larger bodies and bigger muscles, because it helps you grow as an artist. And besides that, representation matters. I know there's plenty of fans out there who would love to see more representation like Raph.

So go for it. Even if you're scared. Even if you're unsure. Give yourself a little grace if you wanna draw that big lovable turtle, and do your best. And when it comes down to it, I bet that if he was real and you showed it to him, he'd love it and appreciate the effort no matter what. <3

[allyheart707]

*walks into Room /w the turtles* me: I come baring gifts!!

*walks up to Donnie* “I got you noise canceling headphones and a weighted blanket! I.. I tried my best to get you a book, but they wouldn’t let me.” I kneel down and whisper “you’re doing great. I know it’s a scary situation and there a lot happening right now, but I believe in you. I’m so proud of how well you’ve been handling this change. Please remember it’s ok to be different and feel big emotions or no emotions at all. Don’t let anyone down you for who you are.”

*walks up to Leo* “I got you a wooden-play sword (for some reason that was ok for me to give you-) and a unicorn plush!” I whisper “you’re going to be just fine. Just know that you’re enough. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’m so so SO proud of you. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen, you’re amazing! I adore your fighting skills. You’re not worthless. You shouldn’t have to earn people’s love. You’re deserving of all the love in the world.”

*walks up to mikey* “I got you finger paints and glitter!” I whisper “thank you for helping people. Your heart is so so big and beautiful!” *hug*

*walks up to Raph* “and last but never least, I got you a heart-shaped pillow and a friendship bracelet!” I whisper “you can do it. I love your kindness. I appreciate your want to help. You’re doing a great job bringing people and yourself together. Thank you for looking out for your brothers. Don’t worry too much big man.” *hug*

I would have drawn this all, but I’m in a motivation burn out rn :,) At least I was able to draw the gifts :D!

You are totally fine not being able to draw everything- I super get it! I also didn't end up drawing a lot for your response- but hopefully you still like it! It's more my retelling of events rather than continuing the story? Also- sorry in advance for how long it got, I was just very excited about all the adorable words you told each of them and how they would respond to it ;v;

Your ask was such a joy to read- tysm for sending it! :DD

Donnie stares at the large assortment of items in the person's hands, wondering which were for him, and for some of them.... what they even were. The human comes to him first and he tenses, confused as the stranger kneels down to his level. Odd, but Carol does it enough that he isn't completely lost.

“I got you noise canceling headphones and a weighted blanket! I.. I tried my best to get you a book, but they wouldn’t let me.” He stares at the items offered for a moment, then takes them with a small nod. He doesn't really know how to feel about them yet.

He holds the blanket that was covered in small glittering stars in his hands, the weight oddly comforting- Like when his brother hugs him, or the times he would hide under their bean bag. It was familiar. And, after inspecting the other grey object in his hand and connecting it to the words she spoke about "noise canceling", he assumes the soft cushions were meant for his ears. He slowly tested them out- pressing one against his right ear. Determining the effect wasn't painful or uncomfortable, he slid them all the way on.

The sound of Raph and Heishis whispered conversation, of Mikey's excited squealing, and of the humming of the vents was suddenly dulled.

It was.... nice.

He knew he should thank the person, he should be as excited as Mikey who was still squealing by her side.. but he didn't know the human. With the new room, his new "brothers", and everything else that had been happening.... he couldn't bring himself to force a smile or even muster a thank you, though he knew he should.

“you’re doing great. I know it’s a scary situation and there a lot happening right now, but I believe in you. I’m so proud of how well you’ve been handling this change. Please remember it’s ok to be different and feel big emotions or no emotions at all. Don’t let anyone down you for who you are.” She whispers to him.

He still didn't want to talk to the new lady, or smile at her, or thank her. But now he felt a swell of relief flood through him, because that was okay. So, he took the gifts with another nod and found his way to the corner of the room, watching with silent awe as she began to pass out the rest of the gifts.

Heishi watches tensely as the enemy first approaches Donnie, claiming that they had gifts for them. Right, like he would fall for that. This was clearly some scheme to lower their guard- but he was a warrior, not some child who could be so easily swayed.

He noted as Donnie made his way to the corner, blanket and headphones in hand. That left the strange viles, the sword (it was wooden, but with enough force maybe he could.... hmmm no, not yet. Not while still stuck in a locked room...), and a few other softer objects that he couldn't quite make out.

Then, it was with dread he realized that the enemy was approaching him next. His shoulders raised and he showed his teeth, hoping to scare her off. Thankfully, it seemed to work as she stopped a few feet away, bending down and offering the sword to him

“I got you a wooden-play sword (for some reason that was ok for me to give you-) and a unicorn plush!”

... Why would she give him a sword of any kind? UGH! Was he really that unthreatening? Was he really so bad at his one purpose that they would mock him by giving him weapons knowing they could beat him?!

... well he would show HER! He will take that silly play sword and-

“you’re going to be just fine. Just know that you’re enough. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’m so so SO proud of you. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen, you’re amazing! I adore your fighting skills. You’re not worthless. You shouldn’t have to earn people’s love. You’re deserving of all the love in the world.”

... well, now it didn't really feel like she was mocking him- maybe she was just crazy.

"Yeah... well, I am the bestest warrior... I don't gotta earn anyone's love, cuz I'm... I'm just that cool. Heh." He stammers, rushing to grab the sword and the other item he hadn't really noticed before.

When he got a safe distance from the enemy, he wasn't exactly sure why he turned his back to the enemy but he just.... couldn't face her. His whole chest felt warm and oozy in a way he wasn't sure was normal.

He shook his head and focused back on the items in his hand.

The sword...

and...

Mikey was bouncing on his feet as he followed the new scientist around the new room. She was so nice- he hoped she would stay forever and ever! Maybe she could convince the scientist to let Carol come back and they could all play together? He squeaked again a the thought.

“I got you finger paints and glitter!” It took a moment for Mikey to realize she was talking to him, to absorbed in his daydreams of introducing her to Carol and George.

He claps his hands together and looks up at the sparkly tubes and jars of color that she held out for him. It felt like Christmas all over again!!

“thank you for helping people. Your heart is so so big and beautiful!”

He was hugging her before she could even finish the sentence, and he couldn't help but chirp with glee as she hugged back!

"Thank you! Ohmigosh!" He pulled away after a moment, taking the jars from her hands and spreading them out around him on the boring brown floor.

After a few moments of struggling against the lids, the vibrant colored jars were now open. He let out a mischievous giggle that turned into a cackle as he made up his mind:

These floors were not going to be boring brown any longer-

Raph stood awkwardly at the table, watching as one by one his brothers were distracted by the humans gifts. Finally, she turned to him.

“and last but never least, I got you a heart-shaped pillow and a friendship bracelet!”

His tail lightly twitched behind him, unsure if he should be excited or nervous. Pops told him that humans were dangerous to mutants like him but... this one seemed okay... maybe if he asked her nice enough she would take him home?

...no, no... he couldn't tell her where his home was. Dad said he could never, ever, EVER tell anyone where they lived.

But... then how would he get home? He frowned.

“you can do it. I love your kindness. I appreciate your want to help. You’re doing a great job bringing people and yourself together. Thank you for looking out for your brothers. Don’t worry too much big man.” She ended her small speech with a hug, which he melted into.

Yeah. I'm Raph, their big brother.

He had gotten this far, had found his brothers, had brought them together- even when pops said he that it wasn't possible!

And, now he just had to bust them all out of here!!

He smiled at his new friend, and gave her a toothy grin.

Raph was going to be the best big brother they ever had!

[truths33k3r4]

What are the moments/phrases/comments that can REALLY set the turtles off?

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER I NEEDED TO DRAW MORE PANELS FOR ITTTTTT

Hey, Anon! :)

As per usual, I will go answer your question going through each turtle at a time. :)

Donatello - There are a slew of different things that set Don off~ The main ones being when things (somehow) don't make sense to him, and ESPECIALLY when someone talks down to HIM when THEY are the ones being a colossal twit. If you don't have the facts to back up your theory or opinion, then DO NOT SHARE UNLESS YOU'RE PREPARED FOR IT TO BE DESTROYED BEFORE YOUR EYES. If you can't take the cold-hard facts of life, then go live in a Fantasy novel.

Raphael - Like his twin, Raph has many things that annoy him and force him to resort to exploding like a volcano. The biggest one for him is when his home is just. Too. LOUD. It is very difficult to focus on sketching in your notebook when the obnoxious screeches of your little brother fill the air around you. The explosion reaches a crescendo when he realizes he accidentally poked his pencil through his sketchbook...

Leonardo - As someone who's normally quite calm in nature, Leo rarely loses his temper or shows emotions that he doesn't want to. But his precious composure sometimes crumbles into dust when his family doesn't communicate to him. This is especially true if it involves concealed injuries that are kept from him, the Team Medic. The art down below is based on what occurs in this chapter of my story, when Leo catches Raph hiding wounds he got from his time in the dreaded labs.

Lotus - This girl's temper rivals that of the twins. She has a difficult time toning down her fireworks of emotions since being saved from the labs that forced her to be silent. Her temper especially appears when someone (in person or in a tv show or film), convinces another weaker or shy person to act how they want: Manipulation, gaslighting, dehumanizing, etc. The brothers quickly learn to never pick any kinds of movies with that kind of villain, just to keep Lotus from spiraling into the unwanted memories of her past.

Michelangelo - The most rare to ever lose his temper given his sunny and chill personality, Mikey has to be pushed to his very LIMIT in order to explode like Raph or Don. Simple arguments don't do all that much besides annoy him, (just because of the fact that his brothers are fighting), but what really gets to him is when a fight lasts longer than it ever should have, and neither person involved is effectively communicating. Just... ARGUING. This is when he *lovingly* reminds them to look at their pride, KILL IT, and then focus on correctly fixing the dispute between the two.

Thanks for the question!! These were REALLY FUN to draw!! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

[dumb-duxky]

Anger

Here is raph, not really what I envisioned when I started drawing but I like how it came out anyways ^^

Haven't really been drawing him bc I didn't really know how without doing him dirty...I'm not a fan of what I did for raphs day during tmaynt 🪦

Tried a new way to color, or new brushes to use, and I kinda like how it turned out 😋

[rant about anger under the cut lmao] [beware its a whole lot of (personal) yapping 😖/let me know if i should delete the yapping here]

__

I really like the kind of red waterpaint on raph, I feel like it really kind of adds onto how I personally feel when I get angry. It's just a feeling that creeps up on you. Sometimes it's sudden, other times it kind of builds up. But the feeling of anger makes you feel dirty and guilty in the end anyways, so it always is the same, yet so easy to fall back to.

Anger is actually a huge problem for me, and I usually explode on my siblings. It's not fair for me or them, and it always makes me feel terrible and dirty after. It's most likely a passed down thing, since my mom was always like that, then me, and now it's appearing in my younger brother. The only difference is that mine is very common and even they seem weary to not trigger me at times, which is such a huge L for me honestly ☠️

What I'm trying to say is that I really do understand Raph when he just gets angry for everything, its very relatable. Mostly 2012 raph. I relate to that Mikey too, honestly just the both of them. The anger is just so simple and complex, yet very annoying 💀

I do want to say that it's not as bad as before, as I used to get a little violent, and say more hurtful things, but now while i still get anger, I'm very careful not to seriously hurt anyone, mentally. I would never forgive myself if I got physical again. Unlike before, I am now an older teen, and I refuse to have my anger control me and have more permanent consequences. Also it kills me with guilt.

But now I've learned how to be a silly lil fellow, and that helps a lot more than what you would think ☠️

I will say that these days i have a very righteous anger, where I want everything to be orderly and fair. I get angry when my siblings act irrationally or get hurt, I do get protective, and it makes me feel like a dog 💀 I have been able to sniff out bad people long before they are revealed to be bad, such is the case in some of my sister friends (I'm right 100% of the time ☠️)

OK I'm going to shut up now I'm actually making myself angry for yapping tf ⚰️

(Might delete this rant here later tbh)