#May Long weekend

[ceevee5]

Our local May Day weekend festival. These two scrumptious beauties and three kinds of brownie.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat if i may speak

[awkward-parabuteo]

The flamingo fluff of displeasure

[raineandsky]

#109

When the doorbell rings, the hero’s kind of hoping it’s the pizza delivery guy.

They open the door to find, tragically, not the pizza delivery guy.

“Uh,” the villain says, “hi.”

The hero isn’t entirely sure what sequence of words would best fit this scenario. “Hi?” is the best they can do.

The villain shuffles on their feet awkwardly. A pause hangs between them, filled by the distant roar of the city beyond. “I thought you’d ask why I’m here,” they say eventually.

“I’m more concerned about how you’re here.”

A smile threatens the corners of the villain’s mouth. “We know where all you heroes live.” The smile fades into nothing again. “Or just I know, now, I guess.”

“Okay.” The hero squints at the villain uncertainly. “I’ll entertain you. Why the hell are you standing outside my door?”

“No one wants to be a villain anymore. Everyone quit.” The villain’s face contorts into some unreadable expression. “It’s just me.”

That doesn’t sound right. From the villain’s slight grimace, they know it too. “Everyone… quit villainy,” the hero repeats.

“There’s nothing to gain from it anymore. We had a vote and I was the only one who wanted to keep going.” The villain’s gaze dips to their hands as if they hold answers. “They left me everything, but… I can’t do it all on my own. So I’m turning myself in.”

The hero stares at the villain for a long moment. “Even [Supervillain].”

“Especially [Supervillain].”

The hero steps aside with a sigh. The villain looks like they’re being invited into a pit of wolves. “You want me to come into your house?”

“My handcuffs are in my living room cabinet and I don’t trust you standing out there. It’s cold, anyway.”

The villain closes the door behind them in an uncharacteristic show of politeness as the hero digs through their drawers. They’re wiping their shoes on the mat when the hero gets back, cuffs in hand.

The villain holds their hands out and the hero clicks the cuffs around their wrists. It’s almost too easy. The question is sitting on the tip of their tongue.

“What’s the catch?”

The villain doesn’t seem surprised by the question. They shrug halfheartedly. “Dunno.” They glance about for inspiration. “All the others have gone into hiding, I guess. You have me, but everyone else will probably evade you for the rest of time.”

“Much like they already do.” The hero manoeuvres them to the sofa in the living room, giving them a nudge to make them actually sit down. “You make it sound like you’ve been left in charge of the entire criminal organisation.”

The barking laugh the villain lets out is entirely fake. Too sharp, too short. “I have.”

“So villany will collapse without you.”

The villain shrugs again, the motion laden with effort. “Not like anyone else was willing to carry that burden—and I’m not either, hence why I’m, y’know…” They gesture vaguely at themself, in cuffs, in the hero’s living room.

The villain goes, villainy is defeated. No more villains, no more big crimes, no more heroes. Everything the agency has worked to be would collapse. The hero would be out of a job. It'd be over.

Yet here the villain is, giving everything up, taking the entirety of villainy down with them. The sole survivor of a shipwreck and wishing they’d gone down with the ship. A ship they don’t seem to realise the hero is on too.

The doorbell rings again, and the hero leaves the villain carefully settling on the sofa to answer it. They return with a giant grin on their face and a giant pizza box in their hands.

“Let’s worry about all this afterwards,” the hero says brightly. They brandish the box at the villain in the hopes of tempting them. “Want some?”

The tempting works; the villain reaches for a slice. “What a last meal.”

The hero sets the box on the coffee table as they flop back on the sofa. “I don’t know, [Villain],” they say with a smile, “I don’t think it has to be.”

[fallowfrog]

easter? i hardly know her

[adimouze]

The only reason why I can think of why Daniel’s keeping his team so quiet and away from the media is that there has to be some legal fight brewing. Otherwise, he’s already gone from the team. Why CAN’T he burn the house down, CAA?

[psychologicalwarclaire]

18 for the injury prompts. Gimme brains and brawn plz :]

Hello Pixel!

Number 18: "Stop. No. Wake up. Wake up! I said wake up!"

Y'all remember in the season one finale when Draxum threatened to torture the boys for information on the last piece of the Dark Armor? Yeaaahhhhh me too >:)

---

The frigid metal of the cage seeped through Raph's Hamato Clan uniform. He was grateful for the long sleeves, at least.

His head still spun with dizzying visions that only got more and more nonsensical. His dad saying the same thing forwards and backwards. His dad tearing apart the Lair yelling, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS!" His dad hyperventilating in April's arms, sobbing, "I don't know how to save them."

Raph didn't understand what any of it meant. Why was he the one getting visions?

"Are you guys getting anything?" he ventured at last.

"Nope."

"Nuh uh."

"Negative."

"We've gotta find a way out of here! Hamato style!" Raph got to his feet and the cage swayed. "Come on, what would our ancestors do?"

"We've only been following their ways for like a day and a half, Raph!" Mikey groaned. "We're not exactly experts."

Leo smirked. "Maybe you're not," he teased.

Raph shot him a look. Now was not the time.

"What, I'm just trying to lighten the mood! We're locked in a cage, held for random by the Foot, and none of us gave Dad grandchildren. I doubt a little joking will make things worse."

Nodding, Mikey managed a smile. "Yeah, things could be worse, so let's--"

"You're right, orange one."

The turtles all leapt to their feet at the sound of Baron Draxum's voice.

Donnie let out a strangled sound as Draxum rose up to the cage's level on a tide of magenta vines. Distantly, Raph noted that Don had been quiet in the way he only was when he was really stressed.

"I will give you one chance to tell me where the final piece of the Dark Armor is."

The turtles glanced at each other.

"We don't know," Raph said. It was the simplest and most truthful answer he could give.

"Yeah," Leo added. His mind was clearly whirring behind his red mask. "If we did, why would we be here trying to stop you instead of out protecting it?"

"Indeed," Donnie nodded. "As much as I hate admitting when information eludes me, I will admit that none of us know where the final piece is. Or even what it is."

Donnie's testimony should have been the most concrete proof Draxum needed. The softshell simply couldn't lie.

Softshell...

Raph suddenly became very aware that Donnie's battleshell was at home and Draxum was looking more murderous by the minute.

"You are all LIARS! I KNOW the final piece is under the care of Lou Jitsu of the Hamato Clan!"

"No?" Mikey piped up. "I think we would've known--"

"BUT YOU DO KNOW!" Draxum roared.

Vines slammed into the cage. Everyone fell to their knees as the floor rocked and spun. There was a screech as the door was wrenched open.

Before Raph could react, vines had wrapped around his waist. His eyes met Donnie's widened ones, and then Raph was yanked away.

Weightless. Falling. Air being squeezed out of his lungs.

His fall was slowed slightly by the vine, but Raph could still tell the ground was approaching too fast. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.

WHAM

It took only a split second for the agony of slamming into the ground to set in.

His ears rang. He couldn't see anything. An aggressive ache thrummed through his whole body. He couldn't tell what part of him had landed first; the pain came from everywhere.

Raph couldn't breathe.

Lungs flattened, chest crushed, air stolen, whatever had happened left him unable to inhale.

A blurry world around him spun, flickering like a candle.

Everything came back into sharp, slicing focus.

And Raph finally sucked in a breath. And another. And another.

Before he could fully catch said breath, a hoof came down on his chest. Raph focused on Draxum towering above him.

"You're just as durable as I intended you to be. Excellent."

He could head his brothers distantly calling out to him. Raph opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but everything hurt too much to form words.

Draxum stepped off of him. The vine dragged him along the ground. His skin felt raw from the fall, and being scraped along stone made Raph's legs sting. If the pain hadn't been so big, Raph might have been scared.

Draxum didn't drag him far. The room Raph was pulled into had a huge metal door, but Draxum didn't close it.

Noticing Raph's unfocused eyes lingering on it, the sheepman grinned. "I want your brothers to hear your screams. It will be... motivation."

Only then did Raph look around the chamber. Chains sprawled across the floor like tangled tree roots. Metal tables stained in different shades of red and brown rested in corners. One wall was nothing but sharp, spikey tools splattered with the same shades.

Damp musk hung in the air. Like a blow to the gut, it made Raph think of the sewers of his home. It wasn't fair for this place of pain to smell like that. Underneath the haunting aromas of home, however, was something deeper and more primal.

Raph recognized it from the corpse flower.

Rot.

And blood.

The fear had blossomed into terror. The terror was much, much bigger than the pain now.

Raph was shoved against one of the bigger tables. The chill of it bit through his uniform worse than the unforgiving cage had.

Cold metal clamps wound their way around Raph's wrists, ankles, and neck.

Draxum pressed some buttons and a soft buzzing filled the room like a den of dozing wasps.

"H-hey," Raph managed. "Let's, uh, let's talk about this."

"I gave you the chance to talk of your own volition. This was your choice. Let's try this again." Draxum's face lit up in an insane grin. He reached for a lever.

"What are you going to do to me," Raph whispered.

"This."

Draxum yanked the switch down, and for a sick second, Raph was reminded of Donnie playing mad scientist.

The buzzing roared to life. Excruciating pain shot through Raph, thousands of tiny electric needles, as red lightning arched through him.

He couldn't even scream.

Worse than hitting the ground. Worse than than anything he had ever felt.

Worst of all, something deep inside of him was twisting, writing, fighting, tearing apart.

And then it was gone, leaving nothing but aches in its wake.

"Awful, isn't it?"

Raph let out a pitiful noise like a tiny wounded animal.

"I made you, you ungrateful brute. I know exactly how much pressure I must apply to break you. Tell me where the Dark Armor is."

"I don't know," Raph whimpered. "None of us know."

Draxum's fingers wrapped around the lever again. "If that's what you choose."

Crimson lightning, like bloody sparks shot through him again. Raph couldn't move. Pinned in place by pain, all he could do was feel his muscles spasm. Surely, they were shriveling, tearing from his bones.

He could feel the places where the metal touched him burning burning burning burning--

Whatever it was inside of him that was wailing in agony was dying. He could feel it. Trembling apart and leaving a void behind.

"Please," Raph rasped.

When it was over again, there were tears flowing down Raph's face and smoke curling off of his uniform.

He could barely breathe with unyielding metal circling his throat.

"You know how to get it to stop."

"Please..."

"This really is quite the marvelous contraption. You see, it runs off of mystic power. Your very own mystical energy is being drained and repurposed as electricity. I'm sure your the purple one could explain the laws of energy to you."

He already had. Energy cannot be created or destroyed. Only transformed.

Raph missed his brother.

"All this can be over if you just tell me what you know, turtle."

"Raph doesn't know! It's lost. Please... please make it stop." A sob bubbled out of Raph. Everything hurt.

He twitched as a random zap of energy cut through him.

"Liar."

Draxum wrenched the lever.

Now that Raph knew what was happening, it was even worse. He could feel his ninpo cracking. Cold loneliness flooded his chest as his connection to his family wanted.

Agony.

Sharp, angry TV static filled his limbs. Parts of his suit were burning away.

Through it all, the the horrific, overwhelming pain only worsened.

Raph was screaming.

It burned his throat even more, but he couldn't help it.

And yet it kept going.

On and on and on.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

MAKE IT STOP.

Millions of miles away, he heard the switch flip. But the lightning continued to envelop him. The pain continued to ricochet through his shell.

Raph convulsed, straining and slamming against the restraints despite the awful stinging where he'd been burned.

Finally, he sagged back against the table. Horrible, gasping, ugly sobs were torn from his raw throat. Hot tears flowed down his face, pooling in his ears.

Raph was drained in every sense of the word. Cold darkness had swallowed his lungs. He was more alone than he had ever been in his life.

And absolutely

EVERYTHING

every bone, blood vessel, and cell of his body

hurt.

At the other end of a long tunnel, Draxum's voice echoed back to him. "...aybe your brothers will."

No!

But Raph couldn't say it. He could barely even think it.

The inky void welling behind his plastron spilled into his vision. Raph's eyes were so heavy... so heavy...

He twitched, feeling the dregs of ninpo within him try to rekindle itself.

And for the second time, Raph fell.

Down

Down

Down

Down

Down

---

The agonized wails of Donnie's older brother were magnified a thousand times as they echoed off the walls.

Gutteral, desperate screams that made Donnie sick to his stomach were made even worse by the knowledge that they were Raph's.

Raph. Infallible, immovable, incredible.

Raph. Sobbing, screaming, shrieking.

Never in all of Donnie's life had he heard his older brother sound like this.

Mikey had long since retreated into his shell, his Hamato uniform pulling and folding in weird ways. Leo sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes wide. Unseeing. Donnie sat next to Mikey with his hands pressed over his ears.

It did nothing to stop the third round of screams.

Playtime was over.

Their time parading around the city, skating and laughing and pretending to be heros was over.

Innocence rocked, worldview shattered, there was nothing they could do to fix such a broken situation.

Raph went quiet.

Not silent, thankfully; Donnie could still hear gasping sobs.

Leo was clutching his chest. "I feel it," he whispered. "He's doing something to- to Raph's powers."

Mikey let out a strangled cry from inside his shell.

"Mikey must feel it too," Leo said softly. Donnie had never heard him speak so flatly. It was unnerving. "You're lucky you can't feel it, Don."

"No I'm not," Donnie whispered. Even as he said it, he thought Leo might be wrong. The tightness in his chest wasn't like normal anxiety. It ran deeper.

Draxum bellowed something and they all flinched.

The echoes of his booming voice faded away...

Silence.

Unnerving, imperfect silence.

CLANG!

Without warning, vines wrapped around the bars of the cage. Leo and Donnie yelled, startled.

The door wrenched open and one of them wrapped around Mikey's quivering shell, pulling him away.

"MIKEY!" Leo leaped after him, grabbing fistfuls of fabric as he dangled over the drop. Donnie reached out after them--

Something huge and heavy slammed into Donnie, forcing him back into the cage. The door clanged shut. Pinned beneath a mass of singed fabric, Donnie could only hear the pleas of Leo and the muffled cries of Mikey fade away.

As Donnie wiggled out from under the motionless mountain, he realized--

"Raph!"

Donnie scrambled to his knees, looking over his older brother as best he could.

It wasn't great.

Raph's neck and wrists looked raw and shiny, and the fabric around them had definitely been burned away. One eye was swollen and Donnie had a nasty feeling there would be bruises already blooming under his mask. Under the scraps of remaining suit was probably a mess too. Raph had fallen a LONG way.

And then Donnie realized Raph wasn't moving.

Donnie shook his shoulder. "Raph? Raph, wake up. Wake up! No no no no no, don't do this to me, Raphael! Raph! RAPH!"

He was breathing at least... Shallowly. Raggedly. Practically wheezing.

"Oh I wish Nardo were here. He'd know what to do. The dumb dumb jumped out after Michael." Donnie dragged his hands over his face. To be fair, he'd rather Mikey not be totally alone. So maybe it was good Leo was with him. Or maybe watching each other get hurt would be even worse...

Donnie tried to take a deep breath.

"This is a mess," he whispered. "It wasn't supposed to go like this. Oh my brownie we're going to die here. He's going to kill us over withholding information we literally don't know--!"

A large hand weakly closed around Donnie's wrist.

"Raph? Raph ohmigosh you're awake! Are you okay? What happened? How do you feel? What hurts?"

But Raph didn't answer. His breathing deepened and his grip tightened. Maybe that was all he had the energy for. Raph, who must have been in so much pain and so incredibly exhausted... was using what little energy he had to comfort Donnie. A lump formed in Donnie s throat.

He didn't have any words to offer. Not for comfort, not for empty promises, not for vows or revenge. Nothing.

He took his free hand, the one not being squeezed by Raph, and softly rubbed his older brother's head.

"I've got you, Raphie. Just... just rest, okay?"

A soft whine of gratitude rose from Raph's chest, melting into deeper breathing.

Donnie refused to look too closely at what had been done to his brother. He wasn't sure he could handle it. Helpless, he just kept rubbing Raph's head.

There was nothing else he could do.

The cruel mockery of a peaceful moment was shattered an instant later as a new, equally painful sound split the air.

Mikey was screaming.

[bethanydelleman]

I watched a TV show this weekend (Captivating the King) where a tree was planted to represent a guy by his brother. Then there is a lightening storm and the tree is the only thing hit and burns to the ground. Predictably, the guy is freaking out because God smitted (smote?) a representation of himself. So I think to myself, "Never plant a tree that represents someone."

BUT THEN, I'm re-reading A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott today where Rosamund (main character) watches a tree her dad planted at her birth get struck by lightening and if she had paid attention to the bad omen maybe she would have avoided some very bad stuff later (trying not to spoil). So then I think to myself, "No, no. Plant trees that represent people and pay attention to omens."

So now I'm torn. What do you think?

[tyresdeg]

indycar california dreamin’ 🏎️☀️

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: June Wrap-Up.

Okay, y'all have Convinced Me--I'm going to start doing little wrap up posts! Behold: a shelf of what I read in June (not pictured: the bookmark at page 466 of ORDINARY MONSTERS, because despite having read two (2) books worth of book so far, I'm still not quite done with that one).

June was kind of a slow reading month for me (I did a LOT of writing, looking back--nice). I wanted to take OTHER TERRORS and THE ELEMENTS OF ELOQUENCE a bite at a time so the horrors and figures of rhetoric (respectively) didn't all run together. Both of those, much like A SHINING, turned out to be pleasantly leisurely wanders, whereas MONSTERS is kind of a plod.

I already did bigger write-ups for TERRORS and SHINING, linked in the bullets below.

OTHER TERRORS - ★★★★ Great bite-sized horror anthology with a really inclusive mix, as promised! I enjoyed most of these (always nice in an anthology!)

A SHINING - ★★★★ Weird fucked up heavy little book in translation, lit-fic flavored, but very approachable, I thought. Tiny enough to swallow in a sitting, but also kind of exhausting to do it that way? I'll definitely reread this one in the future.

THE ELEMENTS OF ELOQUENCE - ★★★ Fun romp through rhetoric! The examples were fun, and I appreciated the humor, but I also find myself still uncertain what a bunch of the figures actually ARE, definitions-wise, despite having read a book full of so many of them (I did just buy his recommended A HANDLIST OF RHETORICAL TERMS to help with that, at least, which is. almost entirely. definitions by volume). Neat thing to have on my references shelf, but it wasn't as excellent as I was hoping it'd be.

ORDINARY MONSTERS - 466/658 pages read; will report back later (but it's not looking good, folks).

[game-weaver]

"Did everyone behave over the weekend?"

[seumyo]

If I released an OC insert MHA Wattpad book . . would we roll with that 🙊

[meownotgood]

THAT'S 60,000 WORDS LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!

[intotheelliwoods]

Anddd Friday's linework is done! Cant wait to see everyone the 17th...

[altruistic-meme]

at least 4 people have now asked in the notes of my post for someone to talk theories/ideas about how the ada would react to actually seeing skk's dynamic in canon so now i have to go rewatch and take notes to fulfill these requests. im probably not going to rewatch the WHOLE show for it but i will be watching the first few episodes as well as every episode with chuuya and especially all of the skk interactions.

[bunnyboy-juice]

ough my bed 🥰