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daflangstlairde-art · 1 month ago

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A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts — Chapter 2, 4737 words

Part 3 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Work Summary:

Love was cauterized out of him young, because that is how you survive. But coming back home with the Splintersons, Leo craved. He craved and he ached and he hungered. Because the Jitsu family loves. They love ardently, fervently, they love in a way Leo has never, ever seen before, they love in a way Leo could never even conceptualize much less dream of. (She’s always taught him, by word but much more by example, to take what he wants and settle for nothing less.)

Here's chapter 1

Still no schedule, not even a mention of it, nothing to clue him in about anything that's going to happen. That's alright. Maybe it was another test! Leo would nail it. The novelty of everything was as fun as it was scary, like facing a type of Nexus opponent he's never faced before, mind ticking away with ideas on what he could do.

Still, he did not expect the next slot to be reserved for shopping.

He supposed it... kinda made sense? He did need more clothes. The others also wanted him to get stuff for his room, but later.

As far as Leo knew, mutants and yōkai were supposed to stay hidden from humanity to the best of their abilities.

But here they were. In a thrift shop. In broad daylight. Standing in front of a packed clothes line, the other three huddled around him as he tried to pick. The Splintersons had reassured him new yorkers didn't pay odd sights much mind—that’s normal apparently—and yet they still had... “disguises” on. So, just... clothes.

He would say regular clothes, except the clothes were barely regular, and he was saying that as a performer. They insisted they had to be inconspicuous, and yet wore bright colors in fun shapes and patterns. Leo was so bewildered it circled right back around to being impressed.

Confidence and standing out were admired in his line of work. Also it was just... charming. They liked the fun colors and shapes, so they wore the fun colors and shapes, heedless of, like, any external factors. Bold!

But anyway. That's not the point.

The point is, that during breakfast, Raph accidentally knocked over Mikey’s juice and it stained Leo’s shirt (the big guy was still very apologetic over it). And that’s when theyrealized Leo didn't have any clothes with him. He didn't take anything from his old room, because it wasn't really his. None of it ever was.

(“Why didn't you mention it?” Donnie looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, and Leo... didn't know how to reply to that. Was he supposed to mention it–?

Yes, apparently, judging by the disapproval on Donatello’s face.

“Now I’ll know for next time,” Leo reassured, easy-going as always.

(I’ll do better, I promise.)

So. Mikey excitedly brought up the idea about going thrifting. And now they were thrifting. Shopping second-hand, which is another new experience to be written on the list of many.

Right alongside the fact that they encouraged (wanted) Leo to pick out clothes on his own. For himself.

He’s coordinated outfits for himself before, but... it was always a test? Like– an assignment. He would not only get to but he’d also be expected to ask for details—what type of event is it? Is there a theme? What are our business relations with the attending guests? Will there be food, movement? What’s the general temperature? What theme is Big Mama going for with her own wardrobe? On and on and on.

And now all he got was–

“Yeah, you just pick anything you like!” Mikey beamed at him.

And make sure what you like aligns with what is acceptable and what we like.

“Riiight,” Leo nodded, feigning understanding, even though this is the third time he’s tried to subtly ask for clarification without outwardly asking for clarification. He just needed something to work with, anything, but it's like they were purposefully making it as vague and open as possible!

“Don't worry about money,” and “Nah, not for any special reason,” and all.

(This theory got even more credence as Mikey literally elbowed Donnie when he started opening his mouth, probably to give some pointers.)

They hadn't even told him the budget! Or how many articles he was supposed to get! He was completely lost and he did not like it.

Well, at least he was rarely punished for janky outfit coordination... he could just completely improv it, he supposed... was that a good idea? What if they didn't like it? What if they didn't like him? What if they didn't have the funds? Leo knew they were far from Big Mama’s class. Or– well, that is why they were getting second-hand...

If the uncharming habits hadn't been broken out of him ages ago, he’d be biting his lip or his nails, or fidgeting.

Okay, Leo, what can you deduce? The sewers were... moderate temperature, thanks to Donnie’s air conditioning. But the surface got very cold in winter, right? It wouldn't be winter for a while, but... he should probably get something warm? Or would that be implying his room was not a satisfactory temperature, which would be insulting?

They... oh! Right, they go on patrol and fight crime! Right, so something to allow for movement, okay, perfect. That ruled out a lot of options. And! They're ninjas! Sneaky! So less flashy stuff, right? Even if it was so wildly different to his usual direction, which was to gather as much attention as possible.

He probably shouldn't pick anything they had trademarked, mainly through their individual color schemes. But he wasn't sure whether he would be allowed to claim a color, so... neutral palette. Can't go wrong with a neutral palette. White stained easily—as previously shown, so maybe something low-maintenance instead.

...Well, he did need better pants...

Leo could almost hear the others hold their breath as he started looking through the hanged clothing. Following him like ducklings as he carefully started browsing the options.

...Hm. Well, he’s always liked the idea of tank tops and T-shirts, they’d been pretty comfy the few times he’d worn them...

There. Two articles of clothing picked out.

First, a sage-olive colored T-shirt, large and loose to not only accommodate his shell, but also give him a pleasant range of motion. Fit his skin tone, didn't clash with the red on his face, and since it was a relatively dark color, it would be pretty okay with sneaking during the night. Cotton meant it would be pretty easy to wash, and would be good with most temperatures.

The second article was harder, because accommodating the lowest lip of his carapace in a way that didn't look awkward was always a hassle. So he chose some sort of... black pants, baggy. Not sure what the type is called, even as he wracked his brain. He really hoped he wouldn't be quizzed on it. You could say memorizing things like this was also never his strong suit, haha! The material wasn't stiff or itchy. Good for movement. Had two pockets.

It was a bonus that both articles of clothing seemed really comfy to wear, and Leo has almost never gotten the opportunity to indulge in loose, genuinely comfortable clothing. Not unless it was, like, pajamas or silk.

“I think this might work, huh?” he turned to the others with the two things. Not great to ask for feedback like that—it showed insecurity over whether he was successful and a lack of mastery over the subtleties of conversation—but it was the best option he had.

He didn't pick out accessories, because one pointer they had given him is that they were here to shop for clothes–

“That's it?” Raph blurted out, a little... surprised?

Dang. Okay, so, Leo messed up, what else did he need? What was he missing? Shoes??? He already had shoes, and this store didn't cater to yōkai, how would he find shoes here–

“N–”

Mikey sent Raph a withering glare, and Raph seemed to... catch himself, immediately waving his hands and saying “No no, I meant–!” he took a breath. “Leo, if these are the clothes you like, they're yours. If you like ‘em.” oh, right, they knew he usually had his clothes picked out for him. Hm. “If this is all you want and-or need for now, that's totally okay. We can always get more later if you change your mind. But! If– if there's something else you also want, don't, uh...” Raph’s speech trailed off, gesturing around. The big guy wasn't very big on words.

“Don't hesitate to get it, we’ve got the money,” Donnie finished for him. “Don't feel restricted based on how much it costs, or, hm, what else do you feel restricted about?”

“Or about anyone else’s opinion but yours!” Mikey tied up their reassurance with a little bow, grinning.

Leo was, for the tenth time in the last twenty four hours, once again left baffled.

That– hm. Okay. That was... an incredibly directly communicated concept. So much so that he was struggling to find the underlying meaning, leaving him to question simply, wow, do they... really mean that?

He couldn't catch their game. They were still looking at him expectantly. Probably for his reaction.

Was this... also a test? Did they want him to double down on his choice, and then tell him if it’s right or not? He was getting more and more lost.

“...I think it’s a good starting point,” he said carefully. That was pretty neutral. They could build off of that if anything was wrong.

They grinned at him, appearing genuinely happy, and he relaxed a little, and they moved along to pay for the new set of clothes.

Phew. Another test that he simply nailed. He was so good at this.

—

“So, anything else you want for your room?” Donnie brought up, as they were exiting the thrift store. Leo had a single bag with his clothes. The others also had a bag each because they simply couldn't help but get some stuff for themselves. They also seemed to simply enjoy browsing.

Hm. What else could Leo be expected to get? It's a cell. What is he going to get, wallpapers? No.

He also didn't know how long he would be staying there. Since he was inside it all the time, he would start to get worried about a vitamin D deficiency or something, but... they'd take that into consideration, wouldn't they? Big Mama always did, she always wanted him in top shape. Managing his diet, his room, consistent medical check-ups, yada yada. And they were turtles, they’d know how important it is to bask and stuff. So they’d give him what he needed in regards to that.

Hmm. Dang. Donnie pulling out the hard questions.

Well, so far, they were always happy whenever he showed some... “personality”. They kept nudging him to “get what he liked” and to “do what he liked” and all, so, maybe something along those lines? They wanted him to cement his persona well, rather than sticking to what’s neutral and therefore safe?

But what would he get for his room?

They had a dojo for exercise equipment, they had separate bathrooms. Make-up and body-slash-skincare wasn't included in the specifier “for your room”.

He could see them waiting, expectantly, for his reply, could see they wanted to offer stuff but were holding themselves back. Interesting. Probably because they wanted him to guess the right thing again.

What the heck was it???

A carpet??? What would he need a carpet for??? Interior design was not his thing, one of his worst subjects. He was lucky it was one of the most minor, too, reserved for the future for when he would manage Big Mama’s hotel; but it could really help right about now.

A different curtain? Some other type of furniture?

...Oh! Right! He's an idiot, jeez! He wanted to facepalm. Of course, how didn't he think of it sooner?

“I think a mirror could be helpful,” he answered indirectly. “To keep up a proper image,”

How had he forgotten that he didn't have a mirror? He supposed it skipped his mind, because last night and this morning he’d used the one in the bathroom when brushing his teeth and washing his face.

“Got it, anything else?” Donnie noted it down on his phone.

...

Okay. Um. There was more? How much more was there??? Leo thought he'd figured out the only thing???

“...Mikey’s drawing might get stained or worn without a frame,” he added, answering and defending his answer all in one. “I wouldn't want that to happen,”

“Awweee,” Mikey cooed, and Leo felt satisfied he’d figured that out as well. “Hey, just so you know, if anything happened to it, I’ll happily make you another! I barely even had to stay up to make that one,” he patted Leo’s shoulder. Aw. That's sweet.

“That's impressive,” Leo replied.

“Mhm, is that all?” Donnie asked next, and Leo exhaled, subtly.

Asking “Is that all?” meant it was all. Great. Another test that he breezed through.

“Yes, thank you,” Leo answered, smiling, and so they went to get a mirror and a frame. A regular mirror and a super cute orange frame.

—

Mikey was incredibly happy to have his drawing framed and placed on Leo’s shelves. One of the first official decors in the cell! Joining Boss Bearhug.

The mirror gave Leo insight into his appearance, which... well. He was working on it.

The new clothes were... casual. Much, much more than what he was used to. And it was only now dawning on him that he really did have just the two sets. Heu boy. He grimaced. Perhaps he really should have picked out more...

But the Jitsu brothers didn't scold him. Did they? He replayed the conversation in his head again, analyzing it for the tenth time, as he does with all of them.

(“If this is all you want and-or need for now, that's totally okay. We can always get more later if you change your mind. But! If– if there's something else you also want, don't, uh...”

“Don't hesitate to get it,”)

Hngh. Dang. Maybe this was on him, then.

Well. “We can always get more later” they said, so it would be a part of his schedule, right?

The schedule that Leo still didn't have.

That's fine. It was fine! They– he was new here. They were all getting acclimated.

Which gave Leo an idea.

Lunchtime. Supper? It was like, 4 p.m. Whatever, doesn't matter.

He waited for everything to be served even when the others didn't. He casually sat a little more casually, totally casual as he carefully observed the others’ reactions to it. Zero reaction, they did not even notice—okay, they didn't care how he sat.

Homemade steak. Leo paid compliments to the chef, Mikey, and waited for– jeez, wow, okay, Raph was just grabbing it and goin’ for it. Aaand so was Donnie. Oookay.

Leo cut his own with a knife and fork, and thankfully so did Mikey. For a second there, Leo thought he’d have to switch his manners completely to fit.

Once again, he laid low in the conversation, whilst still attentively listening.

So when Raph brought up “Hey, Leo, you goin’ on patrol with us later?” it was the perfect opportunity. Time to inquire.

“Your call, bossman,” Leo said with his usual grin. “That's a regular thing for you guys, right?” he was already slipping into more laid back sentence structure around them.

“Yeah! The Mad Dogz, protecting NYC!” Raph pumped a fist.

“Every night?”

“Of course, and we are very consistent with it,” Donnie said, and Leo recognized that tone. It was the tone he’d used years ago, when he’d try sooo hard to be casual that he'd end up stiff and unnatural all over.

“Uh-huh,” Raph said flatly, arms crossed. “They slack like, half the time, so sometimes it's just me. If we're not feelin’ well, we also don't do it,”

Okay, that was perfect. Leo will be attending the patrols with Raph and he'll be actually consistent with it, won't miss a single one. It was the perfect opportunity to prove himself!

“Well. I’m feeling great,” Leo said, in lieu of saying I’m joining you tonight.

“Yay!” Mikey exclaimed.

“Anything else you guys have on your schedules? I’ll gladly stick to one of yours until mine’s figured out,” Leo noted. Again, a perfect idea. He’d just copy one of their schedules, until his own was finished.

He received shrugs in response.

“Donnie is in his lab tinkerin’ a lot. I like to draw, sometimes I go out for graffiti,” Mikey said, counting off on his fingers. “Raph does exercises, sometimes we watch movies, that kind of thing. Whatever we feel like, really,”

...

Okay. So. Leo was expecting something more along the lines of 6 a.m.: wake up and morning routine, 7 a.m.: warm-ups, 8 a.m.: breakfast, 9 a.m.: tutoring, you know? Something with structure. Heck, he didn't even care if it repeated daily, weekly, or monthly! He'd take anything!

Not... that.

Were they just bad at relaying data like that or... no, no way that was it. No way that was all. No way they just... free-styled all their time. It was preposterous.

...Right?

...

It was occurring to Leo that they have never mentioned a schedule. Donatello has mentioned routines, Michelangelo has mentioned plans, Raphael has mentioned chores and responsibilities. The only one who has ever mentioned anything close to a schedule was April—about school.

To use a recently absorbed expression—pizza supreme in the sky, they were completely off the chain.

...Oh no, they were looking at him again. Leo wasn't emoting correctly, he'd forgotten to react at all, but how was he supposed to react to this–

“What... were you expecting?” Donnie raised an eyebrow.

“We ain't gon’ control your life, Leo,” Raph said, going gentle but no less genuine. “You’re a Mad Dog now! You ain’t Big Mama’s! You can do what you want!”

Leo could not even begin to process that.

“Have you just been... acting like you would with Big Mama this whole time?” Mikey asked, going for gentle but overshooting and starting to tumble into concern. Or maybe pity.

Crap. Leo was being way too transparent, or Mikey was better at reading people than he thought.

Leo kept his mouth closed and smiling, if only because gaping and stammering would be awfully inelegant and telling. He's pretty sure the way his expression carefully did not change was telling enough.

He licked his lips, just to react in some way whilst buying himself just a few more milliseconds to think of how the fuck to respond.

Because... yyyes? Was he... supposed to act... differently?

“...I’m still getting acclimated,” he said smoothly. So far so good. “Though I’m open to constructive criticism, would love some pointers,” he said jokingly, even though it was entirely true.

He just wanted to grab them by the shoulders and ask, no double-speak, no subtlety, tell me how to act! Tell me what you want from me and I will do it, I will!

It was a deeply familiar feeling. Even as good as he was at it, navigating constant conversational and behavioral puzzles and traps was tiring at best. At worse—infuriating.

...Terrifying and dangerous, at worst.

But that's just not how things go. Leo couldn't just ask them, he couldn't just talk to them, that would be insane behavior. He just had to figure it out. Just be careful and think.

“Alright!” Mikey declared, reaching over to take his hands. “Here's a pointer! How about this: tomorrow, you are totally free. Okay? No expectation, no plan, nothing. The whole day. You can do whatever. You. Want.” he emphasized.

Leo, again, almost gaped. What??? What was he supposed to do with that time??? It wasn't even like a day off! Those still had things planned, just... lighter things, more enjoyable things.

Was this another test??? If so, it was crazy. Maybe they wanted to see how he would behave when left to his own devices? It hadn't even been a week, he hasn't even shown how he behaves according to their devices.

...Or... was it... oh.

His first punishment.

It felt like a stone sank down his trachea and digestive tract both.

He messed up. He’d– he’d behaved according to Big Mama’s rules instead of the Jitsus', and now he was really going to be left in his cell.

Yeah. Yeah, that... that made sense. It had to make sense. Leo just had to take it in stride and fucking behave. He had to show how good he could be.

Mikey said tomorrow. That meant he still had the rest of today to show how good he is. Act correctly, speak correctly, don't break any rules, don't go out of line, be likeable, be perfectly curated. Go on patrol with Raph and the other two if they show up, and show them how skilled he was.

Leo almost replied with a yes sir, instead landing on an awkward “Yes sssssuunderstood,”

“And just to be extra clear!” Donnie spoke up. “This is not a trick, nor a ploy, nor some complicated scheme!”

Yes sir, Leo nodded. “I understand.”

“And we ain't mad at you!” Raph also butted in. That... okay, yeah, they weren't mad, just– disappointed, probably. Or maybe not even that. Maybe they didn't feel any negative way, just wanted Leo to behave, teach him how to behave. “You haven't done anything wrong!”

...What?

What???

Leo was so incredibly confused right now. Of course, he showed none of that.

He's been confused before. He's dealt with confusing individuals and their confusing rules before. That's all he's done his entire life. He just had to figure things out, like every other time. He kept his breathing calm, and smiled.

“I understand,”

—

“That was a sick twist, Leo!”

“How did you do that???”

Patrol went well. Yeah, Leo needed a few minutes of running across rooftops to get into the rhythm, but they faced off against some mutant lady, and Nexus Mode clicked inside his brain.

And Leo loved the Battle Nexus, actually. It's the one place where he could curate the mask he wore, his presentation, his presence, who he is. It's the one place where he got to make the rules.

“Oh, you know,” Leo was grinning, as they traversed the rooftops back to the Lair. “I suppose I’m just that good,” he got to boast, and it made them laugh and roll their eyes and it was great.

Leo loved the Nexus. He loved getting to show off, and boy did he show off now as well, doing a whole lot of unnecessary maneuvers. Not to hurt! It wasn't about the violence.

...Okay it was a little about the violence, but that's specifically for the Battle Nexus, not for now.

A lot more of it was about being capable.About having the opportunity to do, well, His Thing. Go out, charm the crowds, get them hyped and cheering, show them how awesome (how talented) he was. On the arena, Leo was center stage and the director all at once. Leo decided what was right and what was acceptable and what was desired.

In the Nexus, free to choose who he performed as, Leo felt the most like himself. Like there was an actual person, under the layers upon layers of rules and games and tricks and lies and masks.

And the Mad Dogz had loved it. He kept subtly pressing with “Hey how about that spin-kick huh?” and “I haven't seen you guys try diversions much, so I thought I would–” and whatnot, thrumming with what did you think? Did I do good? Did I do good?

And with a laugh or with a nod or with encouragements or with jokes, they kept answering you were good, you did well, that was right, that was acceptable.

“OOH!” Mikey exclaimed, “We should go to Run of the Mill!!! To celebrate!”

“Oh yeah!” Raph readily agreed, “First job well done with all four Mad Dogz!”

“Ah, an idea per excellance, my fellow Crazy Canines,”

And Leo’s heart swelled at the idea. At the eagerness with which they were already calling him “one of the Mad Dogz”—their team, their family. Heck, this patrol was lightweight compared to a low bracket fight in the Nexus, and yet they wanted to celebrate.

Big Mama does not feel love. Leo is the thing that has come the second closest to being loved by Big Mama, and Leo comprehended a long time ago that he has never been truly loved, not really. Big Mama does obsession, does appreciation, does desire, does value, does all those things, but she just doesn't do love.

And she taught him everything he knows about the world and its workings. She taught him everything she knows.

“If you ever surpass my skills enough to escape without getting caught in my wibbly-web, my turtely-boo, Big Mama shall simply let you go,” she’d said to him, affectionate and coy and condescending. And she made true on her promise—she never let him go easily. Leo’s new life was all thanks to what he’d learned from her and from his own experiences. It was all thanks to his careful planning and execution.

Love was cauterized out of him young, because that is how you survive.

But coming back home with the Splintersons, Leo craved.

He craved and he ached and he hungered. Because the Jitsu family loves. They love ardently, fervently, they love in a way Leo has never, ever seen before, they love in a way Leo could never even conceptualize much less dream of.

And every little stray droplet that lands his way feels like lava, warm and acidic and ruinous, corrosive through his layers. And only at the smallest taste was he realizing how he’s starved for it his entire life.

Leo is not a thing that is loved.

Not in this fierce, personal way.

But he wanted to be. He wanted it so bad, he was ready crack himself open and model his innards like clay for it. He would do the coolest tricks and he would navigate all the conversational mazes and he would pass their tests. Big Mama only ever loved him the way she loved her possessions, her achievements, her treasures; his mother never loved him like this, but he was almost grateful to her, because she’d given him the tools to get it himself.

She’s always taught him, by word but much more by example, to take what he wants and settle for nothing less.

—

Leo behaved at Run of the Mill as well. He was already starting to get used to the Jitsu rhythm, their incredibly differing and saturated mannerisms. He wasn't yet slotting into it quite as perfectly as he’d like, but he was on the way there.

He behaved the way h– to the Lair too. He made them laugh, and he always handled it when he stepped on their metaphorical toes.

Leo was doing good.

So even though he was still trying to work his way out of being in a cell, he flopped onto his bed, smiling, and honestly? He felt... happy. The Jitsus made him happy.

The satisfaction of making them pleased with him left him with a tingling feeling in his chest and shoulders, one that usually made him want to move. He allowed himself just a little shimmy—it was his cell, after all, so it was probably fine, right? And all the others had way larger bursts of movement and emotion, so.

Yeah.

After a few moments of hesitation, Leo also reached over and grabbed, uh... Boss Bearhug. He really really wanted to hug the pillow-like plush. He's secretly always adored plushies, they were just so cute! But he didn't want to be too showy with his love for the gift, so he simply placed it next to his pillow. And laid down on his side to face it.

Leo exhaled, covered by a... pretty nice blanket, actually. And laying on a nice pillow. But it made sense—the Splintersons weren't cruel, they were soft souls. ‘Course they made even cells feel homey and comfortable and nice.

Leo felt warm.

He’d had some bumps here and there, sure, but hey, he'd navigated the whole day! Things should only be looking up from here.

He could do this. He could so do this. It was starting to feel like a fun puzzle, now. He could learn them. He could figure them out. And then he would make them love him. And it would be good.

For once, maybe, maybe he could have something real and good and keep it.

It was an idea so sweet it made him dizzy, haha.

It wasn't hard to fall asleep, even through the excitement.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt leo #leo rottmnt #hamato leonardo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt separated au #fanfic #fan fiction #whump #whumptober2024 #dfl's whumptober 2024 #daflangstlairdefanfic #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt

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rowanisawriter · 6 months ago

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80 stories on ao3 🎉

my brain rot has reached new heights! here are a couple of stories i’ve written recently that I’d like to highlight, in honor of this milestone 😁

1) allegory (bg3 - wyll/shadowheart) a fairy tale subversion, i like rarepairs in bg3 but wyll (prince charming) and shadowheart (gods favorite princess) fit so well together, especially when wyll doesn’t realize he’s the one who might need saving

2) a catalog of non-definitive acts (dragon age - cullen/trevelyan) cullen’s in Denial, i am always scared of writing exchange fics because i don’t like writing with rules but am proud of how this one turned out

3) candlelight (ff7, cloud/aerith) a quiet moment near the end game, i snuck this one into the planned series and love its quiet sincerity, privately i think this is my best ff7 fic

4) west hall mirror (hades, thanatos/zagreus) my tsoa rot meets hades rot, creating this supernova of pining from achilles’s pov, pining for his old life and what he sees before him as than and zag fall in love

#80 stories wow! im just using ao3 as a diary now tbh #incidentally people are also reading it #which is cool #bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll x shadowheart #da #cullen rutherford #ff7 #clerith #hades game #thanzag #my fics #my writing #milestone posts

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zosanficrecs · 9 months ago

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"a catalog of non-definitive acts" by demonzoro

~5k Rated T

#fanfic #fanficrecommendation #one piece #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan #zoro

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sroloc--elbisivni · 11 months ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Usagi Yojimbo, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leonardo/Miyamoto Usagi, Lord Noriyuki & Miyamoto Usagi, Leonardo & Splinter | Lou Jitsu, Casey Jones & Leonardo (TMNT), Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit & Miyamoto Usagi, Casey Jones & Miyamoto Usagi, Kitsune & Miyamoto Usagi, Leonardo & April O'Neil (TMNT) Characters: Miyamoto Usagi, Leonardo (TMNT), Casey Jones (TMNT), Tomoe Ame, Kazumi (Usagi Yojimbo), Lord Noriyuki (Usagi Yojimbo), Kitsune (Usagi Yojimbo), Big Mama (TMNT) Additional Tags: Elements from TMNT 2003, Battle Nexus (TMNT), Hidden City (TMNT), Worldbuilding, Getting Back Together, Disguise, Sneaking Around, Forgiveness, Looney Tunes Shenanigans Series: Part 12 of bunnyguard Summary:

Or: I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.

Leo tried to flatten himself even closer to the roof even though there was absolutely no reason for Usagi to realize he was here. Usagi was preoccupied right now, anyway, carrying one end of a stretcher and talking with its occupant. He also looked like he hadn’t been sleeping enough. What was that about?

...Whatever. Not Leo’s problem. Leo was here to keep an eye out for accidental Krang summonings, and that was it. Usagi said he wanted space. Leo was giving him space.

Or: Miyamoto Usagi and Leonardo Hamato get their grooves back and figure out what they want--separately and together. Also, a lot of other stuff.

it is the last bunnyguard day ever goodbye

#longer letter later #bunnyguard #leosagi #this should stand alone i tried really hard to make it stand alone #sroloc writes stuff #turtles #usagi yojimbo

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the-cosmos-withinus · 1 year ago

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Shadow Puppets AU - The Archivists

General Headcanons

They are the physical manifestations of stars, similar to the character Yvaine in Neil Gaiman's Stardust

Groups of them form constellations and refer to one another as 'siblings' but not as in modern definitions re: brother and sister, they means any relationship in a familial bond

in this case the two eldest, the Archivist and the Preserver would be more closely defined as the parents of this group, which is why they are the most decorated

They are Collectively known as the Archivists after the Eldest in their Constellation, though individuals and pairs have come to be known by other names as well

All of them are non binary, but some of them would have chosen to use pronouns if given the chance

The Archivists technically started the war by attempting to wipe out the Titans, but were acting out of fear after discovering the Titans were immune to their power and the Collector was imprisoned before the conclusion of the war leading the Assessor specifically to begin acting out of revenge

Because they are actual stars, when they die, their corresponding star is destroyed, along with any of their surrounding planets, which means that the actual death toll in the Archivist/Titan War was immeasurable

The Archivist

No face reveal, they are an enigma. The Preserver is the only one who has ever seen the Archivist without their hood

They are eldest of this constellation and founder of the Universal Archive House

Would go by He/They pronouns

They started the mission to preserve endangered species

already more solitary than the rest of their constellation and rarely seen outside of the House, but since the Titan war has become a complete recluse due to blaming themselves for the Assessor and the Cataloger's deaths as well as the Collector's disappearance

The Preserver

The second eldest star in the Constellation, known in tandem with the Archivist as 'the Observers' since they were non-interfering explorers before they began archiving endangered species.

Would answer to she/they pronouns

Was also the one who was closest to the Collector, the only one who would actively stop what they were doing in order to play with him

Openly opposed the war with the Titans and refused to take part in any of it.

They mourn their fallen and have become somewhat reclusive as well, but not nearly as much as the Archivist

Still has faith that the Collector is alive and periodically sends one of his toys out to search for him, this toy is known on the Boiling Isles a the Wailing Star.

The Assessor

The largest of the Archivists, but actually is the second youngest after the Collector

The most hostile and war-like of all the Archivists and if anyone could be pointed at as the one that actually started the Archivist/Titan War, it would be them because of their constant fearmongering

They are the one that the Titan Trappers actually knew as 'The Grand Huntsmen'

Though referred to by the Trappers as he/him and masculine in appearance, if the Assessor ever discovered She/Her pronouns they would have taken them and never looked back

Spent most of the war in search of the Collector and with their dying breath told the Trappers to kill the last Titan in order to free 'them' referring to the Collector

The Cataloger

The Cataloger was the overworked one that never had time for anything, including pronouns (might have tried she/them)

Though too busy for the Collector, they would humor him by listening to him talk about the specimen he collected as they cataloged them

Victim of the Assessor's fearmongering, fought in the war and was the creator of the Draining Spell

The Cataloger was the first Archivist casualty in the war

They have a passing resemblance to Odalia Blight because of a now abandoned plot point of the AU had this resemblance to his sibling was the reason that Astrophel chose Odalia to be 'Mamadalia"

#toh collector #toh archivists #toh ocs #the owl house oc #shadow puppets au #Lore post

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gotmolokoplus · 7 months ago

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Every morning the maple leaves.

Every morning another chapter where the hero shifts

from one foot to the other. Every morning the same big

and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out

You will be alone always and then you will die.

So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog

of non-definitive acts,

something other than the desperation.

Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party.

Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party

and seduced you

and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?

A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing.

Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on.

What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon.

Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly

flames everywhere.

I can tell already you think I’m the dragon,

that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.

I’m not the princess either.

Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down.

I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure,

I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow

glass, but that comes later.

And the part where I push you

flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks,

shut up

I’m getting to it.

For a while I thought I was the dragon.

I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was

the princess,

cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle,

young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with

confidence

but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess,

while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire,

and getting stabbed to death.

Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal.

You still get to be the hero.

You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!

What more do you want?

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re

really there.

Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?

Let me do it right for once,

for the record, let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes,

you know the story, simply heaven.

Inside your head you hear a phone ringing

and when you open your eyes

only a clearing with deer in it. Hello deer.

Inside your head the sound of glass,

a car crash sound as the trucks roll over and explode in slow motion.

Hello darling, sorry about that.

Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we

lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell

and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.

Especially that, but I should have known.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together

to make a creature that will do what I say

or love me back.

I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version you are not

feeding yourself to a bad man

against a black sky prickled with small lights.

I take it back.

The wooden halls like caskets. These terms from the lower depths.

I take them back.

Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.

Crossed out.

Clumsy hands in a dark room. Crossed out. There is something

underneath the floorboards.

Crossed out. And here is the tabernacle

reconstructed.

Here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all

forgiven,

even though we didn’t deserve it.

Inside your head you hear

a phone ringing, and when you open your eyes you’re washing up

in a stranger’s bathroom,

standing by the window in a yellow towel, only twenty minutes away

from the dirtiest thing you know.

All the rooms of the castle except this one, says someone, and suddenly

darkness,

suddenly only darkness.

In the living room, in the broken yard,

in the back of the car as the lights go by. In the airport

bathroom’s gurgle and flush, bathed in a pharmacy of

unnatural light,

my hands looking weird, my face weird, my feet too far away.

And then the airplane, the window seat over the wing with a view

of the wing and a little foil bag of peanuts.

I arrived in the city and you met me at the station,

smiling in a way

that made me frightened. Down the alley, around the arcade,

up the stairs of the building

to the little room with the broken faucets, your drawings, all your things,

I looked out the window and said

This doesn’t look that much different from home,

because it didn’t,

but then I noticed the black sky and all those lights.

We walked through the house to the elevated train.

All these buildings, all that glass and the shiny beautiful

mechanical wind.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,

smiling and crying in a way that made me

even more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I

just couldn’t say it out loud.

Actually, you said Love, for you,

is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s

terrifying. No one

will ever want to sleep with you.

Okay, if you’re so great, you do it—

here’s the pencil, make it work . . .

If the window is on your right, you are in your own bed. If the window

is over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathing

river water.

Build me a city and call it Jerusalem. Build me another and call it

Jerusalem.

We have come back from Jerusalem where we found not

what we sought, so do it over, give me another version,

a different room, another hallway, the kitchen painted over

and over,

another bowl of soup.

The entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell.

Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.

Forget the dragon,

leave the gun on the table, this has nothing to do with happiness.

Let’s jump ahead to the moment of epiphany,

in gold light, as the camera pans to where

the action is,

lakeside and backlit, and it all falls into frame, close enough to see

the blue rings of my eyes as I say

something ugly.

I never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way,

and I don’t want to be the kind that says the wrong way.

But it doesn’t work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats.

There were some nice parts, sure,

all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas

and the grains of sugar

on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I’m sorry

it’s such a lousy story.

Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently

we have had our difficulties and there are many things

I want to ask you.

I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,

years later, in the chlorinated pool.

I am still talking to you about help. I still do not have

these luxuries.

I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together.

We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . .

When I say this, it should mean laughter,

not poison.

I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.

Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.

Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

#litany in which certain things are crossed out #richard siken #poetry #poem

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apple-pecan · 1 year ago

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Sin and Punishment (2000)

once upon a time, a small company called Treasure existed. they made a bunch of awesome games but none of them sold particularly well, but that didn't stop them. until the early 2010's in which case they actually did stop. oops. either way they had a bunch of cult classics under their belt and had the idea to partner up with nintendo themselves to work on their first fully 3D game.

thus Sin and Punishment was made and it sold twelve billion copies and solved world hunger and world peace was finally achieved. just kidding, no one bought it because it was a japan exclusive N64 game, a country the N64 did awful in. a north amercian release was in mind from the very beginning (to the extent that all the voice acting is in english and not japanese) but it was cancelled because nintendo are cowards. thankfully they rectified this mistake in 2007 when it got released on the virtual console and it's been playable on all their main home consoles ever since. about time.

so what's the deal? why's this game so good? think star fox 64 with the plot of end of evangelion. it's a rail shooter where you have a rapid fire gun, the ability to melee enemies if they get too close, and a player character bound to the laws of gravity that can walk from left to right, jump, and dodge roll. there is also a worthless lock on mode that you should never use.

what follows is a non-stop barrage of action, explosions and vast amounts of awesome boss fights. so, like the best kinda games treasure made. BUT IN 3D!!!!!!! it's always a rush of energy and fun and there's never a dull moment. but it comes at a price: this game is horrifically short. you can easily beat the entire game in around 40 minutes, and aside from unlocking harder difficulties there's not that much of a reason to play again. except yes there is because the game is fun as balls and you can replay it to get a high score. i guess what im trying to say is think of this more as an arcade game rather than a full fledged AAA adventure, and you'll be good.

if you bought this game back when it first came out (somehow) the steep price would've been an issue. but if you have the nintendo switch online expansion pass, this is included in the nintendo 64 catalog for the low low price of 0 dollars. i mean, besides paying for the expansion pass but. you know what i mean. or you could pirate it that's fine too. either way, play this game however you can, it's the very definition of short but sweet. definitely treasure's best game on the N64, just narrowly beating mischief makers, and honestly one of the best games on the N64 in general. play it, you won't be disappointed.

9/10

NOTE: my favorite part was when saki turned into EVA-01 and said "AWW YEAH IT'S SIN AND PUNISHMENT TIME" and he sinned and punished the evil twin clone of the planet earth so hard it exploded. this joke is still funny right.

#apple's media review #apple's media: games

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wellntruly · 1 year ago

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M*A*S*H (not that one)

I went to Manderley again--rewatched the Altman M*A*S*H. Completely worrying pattern, being nearly exactly one year after the first time I saw it. If I end up watching M*A*S*H (1970) in the last weeks of August every year that’s going to wind me up on some sort of list. By women. And they’ll be right.

I hadn’t known at first, but the eventual realization was as inevitable as anything in the movie, a sort of regrettable slide of “no, I’m gonna.” Why does anyone do the things they do in M*A*S*H. Why does anyone do M*A*S*H. Both of these questions don’t have question marks because it’s just already happening.

There are some attenuating circumstances, sure. War, weather, Robert Altman, a friend, a kind of numb seeking for the sword of time that will pierce your skin. Elliott Gould, probably, also.

If you embark on a Hot ‘70s Summer, you don’t actually leave it. Winter just falls, and you go into that mode of the ‘70s, bundling up in inadequate materials against the cold, and still somehow, feel cozy. But before that turn, those still, hot weeks hanging hazy at the top of the year, the most Hot ‘70s Summer, 1970, the most ‘70 movie to ever exist: Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H.

I was an hour and thirty minutes into it before I remembered with a little twitch that at some point, in the beginning, this was set in the 1950s. Hilarious to recall. Maybe it’s the 1950s in Richard Hooker’s book about his time in a Korean War field hospital, also titled M*A*S*H; I do not know. I simply know it is not the 1950s here, it is well 1969 precisely, at filming, and America has just achieved its dismal high water mark for the number of troops currently deployed in Vietnam. This is Vietnam. It’s not Korea, it’s not Japan, it’s the crest of the Vietnam War in a mountain park in California, and a nation knew that immediately, knew that with everything they had, which was mostly nihilism.

M*A*S*H (1970) dir. Robert Altman is probably the most historically specific film object I have ever seen. You cannot navigate, valuably, anything this movie is doing outwith its historical and cultural context. Some works of art are timeless, and on the other end there is M*A*S*H, made OF time, yanked out of the fabric of it with film cameras rolling and a sound mix that says: all of it, and that act winds up changing what will happen--historically, culturally--as time continues on.

M*A*S*H is its time. It meets America head-on, and leers. It’s not that it breaks something in the culture, it just reflects back something that was already broken, the people already scarring over. M*A*S*H only works if you’re watching it knowing that. Not to be didactic. Something the movie resolutely refuses to be, at any moment, which causes audiences today, removed from the milieu, to question, alarmed, do they know? Do they know that they're awful? Oh yes. Do they also take delight in their being awful? Oho yes. We are all broken. :).

The tagline of this movie, still on a lot of the posters you’ll see, was “M*A*S*H gives a D*A*M*N.” This is so curious to me. It is either a straight up lie, or a key. This would appear a movie predominately peopled with characters who seem, in kind of post-modern incongruity with their surroundings, almost implacably non-committal. Removed, irreverent, careless. Sure it turns callous, sure in trying to deflect the stupid brutality of war they often just end up turning brutal stupidity onto others. A catalog of non-definite acts, something to mask the desperation.

I think a lot about this one Chris Fleming video where he said something like, “ever since my parents grasped that a movie can still be good even if it doesn’t make you feel good, they’ve been going absolutely ham at the independent theater.” Realizing this really does open up your world, and also gets you on lists (I deserve to be there!!). This is how lightly sweating in a slowly turning fan at the end of summer you think, mm, gonna watch M*A*S*H…

Why? Vibes. But the vibes are bad. Yeah I know. But they’re also….I think the phrase I used in a message to the friend I first watched this movie with, as soon as those opening credits started playing over me again, was “badly enchanting.” There’s something about the way it looks, the way it sounds. Khaki-colored sunlight and dirt and those Japanese covers of old standards playing through a PA system. That Altman calling card layered up dialogue where they somehow arrange it just-so so that you still hear the parts you’re supposed to, god.

This is how you end up saying, oh this movie is not like, a nice time, I occasionally quite dislike the sensation of watching it, and yet also, sometimes it's just what I want to watch. I don’t know, it’s AltM*A*S*H. One minute I’m thinking, incredible that you thought this was funny, and then the next I’m like, you are the only people who understand this particular thing I think is funny. Primarily in that though it’s three things: 1. unhinged heavily metatextual opening and closing pacing & especially this narrating voice at the end just being like “welp, that was that” and rapidly rehashing clips of the cast at ever increasing speed, 2. two Bud Cort moments, 3. GaryBurghoffRadarO’Reilly.

This is the juncture where I get off actually, because if I keep going in this mode about the completely insane thing that somehow happened next, to M*A*S*H and to me, M*A*S*H (1972-1983), we'd be here 10 years and I would die, whichever comes first.

But I will tell you one thing! Just one thing!!! If I’m in what, 1972, much like I was 2022, and they’re like, there’s gonna be a M*A*S*H TV show, and the one person who will be the same is that kid Radar, I’m like oh, of course, the most character who can travel between worlds performance of all time.

#here is a thousand words on the film “M*A*S*H”#M*A*S*H (1970)#Robert Altman #M*A*S*H hours #Wellntruly's Watch Log

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ladyculebras · 1 year ago

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a catalog of non-definitive acts ↳ supernatural, Sam/Dean, nc-17, ~30,000 words: read on ao3.

content warnings: incest, past underage wincest/weecest (off-screen).

Summary:

It's the first time Sam and Dean are together since Sam's become an adult, and everything is different.

Sam and Dean fall in love again.

#wincest #sam x dean #supernatural #dean x sam #samdean #my fic

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llycaons · 2 months ago

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since I rarely reference fics by name in my lbs and never tag them, I imagine it's extremely confusing to read through my tag. and I've been reading four or five these past few days, so in case anyone cares, these are them

Tether by Annerb: post-sunshot cursefic where lwj must be in proximity to wwx at all times or become extremely ill. this one is a long fic and a real slowburn (to the point where it can be frustrating!), but the development and the characterizations are absolutely incredible for everyone (except a few slipups with wq and jc's interactions) and it really feels like the commitment to a healthy and freely chosen relationship ala cql. VERY cql-faithful, even when it comes off a little silly. despite a few weird plot choices this is an exceptionally well-done and elaborate work and I do recommend it highly, it has a few more chapters left so I'm waiting to write the real summary and post it to the recs page, but the author is updating frequently and it's a completed work. this is the one that had me screaming the other day hehe

Odd Geometry by maziodyne: the sunshot AU where wwx is a healer who hadn't been adopted by the jiangs! I beta read this one - a ton of fun with a great elemental addition to the magic system, thorough research into the sunshot campaign, and wonderful characterizations

stray cat strut by ScarlettStorm: THE CATBOY ONE LOL. more on the horny side than on the tender romance side, but a really fun time

a catalog of non-definitive acts by zerodignity: the last work in the series of canonverse wwx struggling with his identity as some flavor of nonbinary. I really liked the first two works in this series, but this one is kind of weird. they're keeping their relationship secret bc they're in CR, which is depressing, and wwx's identity barely seems to come up except in sex scenes. however the characterizations for like, lxc are extremely well-done (but like, doesn't lxc know they're together? jeez). it looks like they're going to come clean and leave CR, but idk what the point of all this is anyway. this is an epic romance about publicly supporting your infamous beloved why the fuck are you sneaking around past midnight postcanon just to see him...why do you care about these people's judgements...

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake: this is a very well-written novel-verse AU where wwx gets fed up with the jiangs pretty early on (everyone is presented pretty unsympathetically, even jyl) and bounces to become a rogue cultivator, joining up with lwj to help fight off the looming wen threat. I got like 20 chapters into this - the chapters are short and the writing flows well, but it's a long series and there's legitimately zero genuine emotional conflict. the jiangs suck so wwx leaves. he's fine with this. he's so smart and capable and brilliant and beloved and everyone likes him. the townspeople are so grateful for his help they give him a title just like lwj has. he realizes he loves lwj and immediately vows to woo him. lwj by all indications really likes him too. it's an idealized version of what wwx's life could be like if he...wasn't wwx, without all the conflict and loyalty and familial love and suffering and self-doubt and miscommunications and difficulty and external forces working against him and misunderstandings and without being forced to stand against authority for what was right and be actually, truly alone. I also found the long descriptions of talismans, night hunts, and sect politics extremely dull, and I probably won't be going back to it, but it IS very well put-together and edited, and the romance is sweet, so if you enjoy it, I'm glad!

#ficblogging

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consultingjedi · 7 months ago

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es recs their friends' trigun fics

all you can do is keep trying by rhiannonwrites

Rated: T

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: mashwood; meryl has a nightmare and her partners comfort her afterwards

Comment: formatting fun AND hurt/comfort AND wonderful characterization

a catalog of non-definitive acts by BisKitty !incomplete!

Rated: T

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: post-canon au where nai and wolfwood struggle to coexist

Comment: a really interesting view of the parallel between nai's fears and what he did to kids like wolfwood

Gravedigger by dedicatedfollower467 !major character death!

Rated: T

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: trimax vol 10 missing scene: vash buries wolfwood

Comment: tears! tears. every trigun fan has their own take on this scene and it never fails to make me cry.

Saying No by millionsfics !sexual assault!

Rated: M

Wordcount: 26.5k

Summary: plantwood modern au, where nai once had a ... thing with conrad that's coming back to haunt him

Comment: truly the plantwood dynamic of all time; each of them understands the others in a unique way, and they're all trying to work through their problems and be better for each other

The Art of Mockery by millionsfics

Rated: E

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary: T4T4T, vashwood that becomes plantwood

Comment: fun plantwood smut with evolving relationship dynamics and unusual genitalia, what more could you ask for

Poor Heart (Don't Deny) by entelechies and tridecaflop era !incomplete!

Rated: M

Wordcount: 6.6k

Summary: modern au kniveswood meet at a gay cowboy bar

Comment: drunk nai flirting is so so fun and wolfwood is a sweetheart

#trigun #trigunfanficappreciation

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daflangstlairde-art · 29 days ago

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A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts — Chapter 3, 4580 words

Part 3 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Work Summary:

Here's chapter 1

Here's chapter 2

Leo woke up at around 7 a.m. again, because if they were gonna take ages to give him a schedule, he was going to make a placeholder one on his own. His life has had clear, written out steps for years.

Today, he would be doing nothing, Mikey said. Okay, that's fine. Leo could fill the time of his punishment on his own.

He started doing his morning exercises. He didn't rush through them—he had an entire day worth of time to endure.

He tidied up his cell—made his bed, checked for dust, that sort of thing. He dressed himself in his new outfit, even though his previous one was washed now.

Aaand that's about when he ran out of ideas.

Leo sighed, flopping back in bed, to stare at the ceiling. He didn't have any upcoming dinners or Nexus performances or public appearances to think on. He didn't have any classes to revise.

So, Leo started on his first tactic to pass the time: analysis.

He could use this time to better himself. He closed his eyes, and began going through old and recent interactions with the Jitsus. Started rotating them in his head, picking at the tiniest of details. There's always something that can be useful.

Gosh, it was such a moment, to learn he had three lost brothers. Like, he knew he wasn't actually Big Mama’s child—in multiple ways, including the fact that he didn't remember his earliest childhood. But brothers?? Insane. They'd been even more baffled than him.

And that sentiment was tripled when, apparently, Baron Draxum of all people dropped the craziest lore—that they were all made with Lou Jitsu's DNA. The former Battle Nexus Champion! The Mad Dogz' beloved movie star! Like what?!

Gah! And finding little pockets of time, tiny opportunities to slip away from his duties to see them? To get to know them, bit by bit? Hear about the mutants they've fought, the fun they have? As dangerous and nerve-wracking as it was, it was also so much fun, every time. He'd always looked forward to it.

It turned into a mess, of course, haha, but hey! Here Leo was, better off for it.

He chuckled, thinking about the random times he’d run into them. Like at Laberinto de Muerte, their first meeting. Or at mamá’s hotel, trying to wrangle those oozesquitos, when they learned from the baron that they were related. Good times, haha.

It was nice, reminiscing on his moments with the Jitsus. He was looking forward to having more. And it made him feel at least a little productive, to revise what he’s learned about them, think up ways to ever so slightly alter and correct his behavior.

It also got him thinking about his life before meeting them. About people he would call friends.

...He wished he’d gotten to keep those friends, but, well. He was stupider, back then. Sure, he'd known that if he got too obviously attached to something, it would be used against him or taken away from him, but... he hadn't considered that rule would apply to people, too. Idiot. That was one of his worse mistakes. Leo made sure to learn from it.

Love was cauterized out of him.

...But man did it really, really want to regrow. Leo seriously had to keep it in check, or it might end him in big trouble.

Big hearts are also big targets.

He was jarred out of his thoughts by a knock on the wall beside his curtain. He checked the time—9:34 a.m. Slightly earlier than yesterday. Ah, probably breakfast then, sweet. Leo couldn't help but grin as he hopped up to his feet, excited to see someone. Especially considering he probably wouldn't get much of that today.

“Leo?” Raph’s voice, a little hushed.

“Still here, boss man,” Leo said, cheeky.

Raph pulled the curtain aside, and smiled upon seeing him. “Damn! You always wake up early?”

“Mhhmm,”

“Oh, awesome! Mikey and especially Donnie kinda like sleeping in a little more, but uh, if you want, I do some exercises in the morning,” Raph said, fidgeting a little. Interesting. “You could join me! If you want,”

Yes! Aw yeah, baby! Even during his punishment, Leo would still get to hang out with someone and to do stuff. He was nailing this.

“That sounds like a great idea,” he agreed, smiling in return.

“Oh! Heck yeah!” Raph whooped. “Let's go!” he pulled the curtain open a little wider, and Leo followed him out. Probably to a training room of some sort.

Leo wouldn't mind some physical work, honestly. He’ll start getting agitated if his only work-out was his own morning stretches and patrol. He hoped his schedule had a little more than just that.

“Oh, wait, I think I forgot my water bottle in my room,” Raph mentioned, turning towards a different tunnel, one on the floor of Leo’s cell.

Leo didn't say anything, there wasn't anything calling for his commentary, just followed along.

To...

...A-another– another cell.

He stopped in front of it. Watched Raph open its curtain—red—and look around for his water bottle.

The cell was... just the right balance between small and large, not restricting (enough for Big Red, haha), but cozy. Red sheets. All kinds of clothes, but most prevalent—red. A whole heaping pile of all types of plush toys. Rafts with trinkets and action figures. A skateboard. Posters on the walls. A rug.

Leo stared at it all, entirely uncomprehending.

“Oh here it is!” Raph exclaimed, picking up his water bottle. It was made of metal, red and black.

“Wh– huh...?” Leo breathed, to himself, still staring at the sight in front of him.

He, he didn't... he didn't understand.

He didn't understand.

Why was Raph in a cell? What did he do??? Who was above him in authority to put him there??? Why was it so... full? It was downright cluttered, in a way that spoke of so much use, so much... attachment.

Leo– Leo didn't understand.

If Raph—the older brother, their leader, a certified OG part of the family—was in a cell... what were the hopes of Leo getting a room?

“Leo?” Raph asked, and Leo blinked, and fuck, his smile had fallen, his smile never fell, his smile wasn't supposed to fall.

“Yeah?”

“You good?” Raph was looking at him.

“Totes,” Leo reassured, even though inwardly, he felt his heartbeat had picked up and his thoughts were a hurricane.

“Uh... o... kay then,” Raph accepted. “Let's roll!” he moved in the direction of the training room.

Leo’s stare lingered on the red-themed cell for a few moments longer.

He forced his legs to follow after Raph.

He had to keep his cool. He had to be normal.

He would simply find a way to ask without directly asking.

—

Training was going pretty well! At some point, Donnie and Mikey even joined them, just to hang out!

And it really was more like hanging out than anything. Leo initially expected it to be more like his martial arts lessons, but while Raph did take it pretty seriously, it was nowhere near that.

Most of it came from the fact that... well. It felt like Raph was treating him as an equal, rather than a student. He was asking for Leo’s technique just as much as he showed Leo his own cool moves. He corrected Leo kindly, rather than with disapproval or disappointment or irritation. He didn't want to hurt Leo, which was a little crazy, considering they were training to fight.

But that's the thing. With Raph, it didn't feel like they were fighting against one another. It felt like they were doing this together. Like they were both students, and they were each other’s tutors, all at the same time.

And they also chatted and made jokes. Raph was really fun to tease, Leo was finding. He had to be careful not to get too comfortable and cross any lines, but that hadn't happened so far, even if Leo felt like he was really pushing his audacity with some comments, haha.

It was awesome.

...Hoooweveeer.

He didn't find a convenient spot to ask his question. Aaand now Donnie and Mikey were here too, even though they weren't taking part in training. Literally just hanging around for company.

Impeccable vibes, so-so atmosphere for risky questions. Now this might actually cross a line.

That's fine. Leo just had to be casual. Project that it wasn't a big deal, just a little question, same weight as asking “Oh did you step backwards before doing that spin-kick?” and no more. No big deal, you know? Just plain ol’ curiosity. Neutral information exchange, and then move on.

“Yeah, I learned that from Ghostbear too!” Raph exclaimed, showing him a cool trick to pinning an opponent. Leo dusted himself off as he was released, settling back into a stance, to try and replicate it as was their rhythm.

“Oooh, nice,” he hummed. Raph liked wrestling, specifically that Ghostbear guy.

“Yeah!! Although he’s kind of a cheater, he still has some real technical ability that you can learn from!!” Raph was smiling, also in a readied stance.

There.

Leo snorted, “Is that what got you Cell Time?” he said in a joking tone.

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

Roll with it. “No? Something else?” Leo metaphorically poked like he was just teasing.

“What do you mean?” Raph asked, and his stance un-readied itself though he still held it. Okay then, Leo paused too, wouldn't wanna take him off-guard. Which was also weird—usually he’d take any openings. That's what he’s always been taught.

“You know,” he shrugged, still keeping it lightly, “Your cell? I mean, you're the leader, right? Boss man?” Leo teased, “What landed you in there?”

“...Raph is so confused right now,” the big guy confessed.

“Cell? What cell?” Donnie spoke up. Great, him and Mikey were looking at them weirdly too. Damn it. Gah. No no no. This wasn't going great, abort mission, play it off.

“Nevermind,” Leo shrugged, rolling his eyes, still smiling as always. “A man’s Cell-Time-deserving crimes are his and his only,” he joked, once again taking up a stance to continue with training.

“Cell time?” Mikey echoed.

Tthhheeeyyy weren't moving on from it. Hm. That, that’s, okay. Interesting. Did Leo stumble upon yet another Jitsu quirk?

“Yeeeahhh? Cell time,” he said easily. “When you spend time in your cell? Anyway,” he once again tried to redirect the moment away from it. He didn't like talking about Cell Time. It was, frankly, a little embarrassing. It's not something you bring up in conversation. Bad image. That must be Leo’s mistake here, and the reason why they were making it into A Thing.

Donnie cleared his throat, while the other two had... uh... not great expressions on their faces. For some reason. They didn't look judgemental or disgusted or anything though... Leo wasn't... quite sure what their expressions were.

“Is that... something that... happened a lot to you?” Donnie asked, in a careful sort of tone.

And like... what?

They literally put him in a cell first thing upon arrival. Raph was in a cell, and by the look of it, it wasn't the first time at all.

“I mean, not a lot,” Leo chuckled. That would imply he behaved terribly. And– okay, he wasn't the best at behaving, you can't internalize “take from the world exactly what you want and nothing less” and not have a large degree of Do-What-I-Want attitude, but he wasn't badly behaved. He’d say he was quite good, actually. He learned to be good at it. “Definitely not that much more than everyone else, huh?” he joked.

“Aha. Right.” Donnie coughed.

“Leo...” Mikey said and– why did he sound sad??? Leo was really confused right now. The Splintersons were confusing him. Maybe more than ever.

“And you think Raph was put in one at some point?” Donnie asked for clarification.

“Either that or he has a weird place to store his water bottles,” Leo joked.

Raph gaped and his expression shattered.

“You think my room is a cell?” he said in a high-pitched, strained voice. He sounded crushed.

Leo– Leo was lost. What?

“Your room?” he carefully kept his own expression away from a frown.

Raph nodded, and everyone was looking at him with shattered expressions now.

“Did you think that... that your room...” even Donnie looked upset.

“Did you think we put you in a cell?!” Mikey exclaimed, incredulous and devastated.

Leo didn't know how to respond to that.

Was it... not... a cell...?

That... but that couldn't be right. Looking past the lack of windows (they were technically in the sewers), there was no proper door, the walls were rough, it had minimal interior design, etcetera? How could that be a room???

His mental scripts were entirely failing him right now. He had to improvise and he had to do it well. But it was really hard to improvise when he was clueless as to where he’d messed up.

All over again, he was a little child trapped in a cell, wailing and banging on the door that he’s sorry! and that he wouldn't do it again, ignorant that it was his wailing that he was being punished for. It was always hard to better his behavior when he didn't even know what he was supposed to better.

“Leo, we’d never put you in a cell,” Raph stated, strangled with shock.

“Why did you think it was a cell? What made it seem like a cell? Are you still missing furniture? Is it too cold? What– why–” Donnie was frantically tapping away at his phone, for some reason.

“Leo,” Mikey stepped forward, him and his sad eyes. “You know we love you, right? You're our brother! You're a Mad Dog now, boy!” he exclaimed, “You know we wouldn't do that to you, right?”

Leo just didn't know how to respond. He just smiled and kept smiling.

There was a little child inside him, a little child crying and banging on the door of a constantly locked room, like a little fly struggling inside a web, screaming no no no it's a trap it's always a trap.

“Of course,” he said, smiling, nodding. “You guys have been nothing less than fantastic.”

Mikey somehow got even sadder at that.

Outwardly, Leo kept his composure.

Inwardly, Leo was frantically slamming all the bright red buttons. Everything about this situation was wrong, he’d messed up bad bad bad. If he wasn't punished before he would surely be punished now, he didn't want to, he didn't want to.

He’d been trying so so so hard, to be good, to be perfect, to figure it all out, but like a freaking DUNCE he just HAD to go and shove hisfoot in his mouth! Idiot! He could NOT have been a bigger clown, his image was in tatters–

He’d been trying so. Hard.

...It's not over yet. He could salvage this, he had to salvage this, damage control scripts engaged. Clean this mess UP.

“I’m sorry,” Leo cut off whatever was about to be said next because it would surely make this all worse. Even though interrupting others is rude, bad manners, bad image, bad bad bad– “I did not mean to insult you, you have been stellar hosts. I am more than satisfied with what you have generously provided me,” smile, calm, placating, well-mannered, well-behaved– “My words weren't intended to imply anything negative. Any line I have crossed was not out of malice or lack of appreciation, merely ignorance oof–” a box turtle crashed into him, cutting him off.

Mikey wrapped his arms around him, squeezing tightly. And Leo’s heart was beating too hard, and he worried Mikey could hear it like that and Leo couldn't hide it–

Raph picked them both up, just like that, easy-peasy, and started walking somewhere. Donnie quickly following next to him, muttering under his breath.

And for a moment, Leo’s heart beat even harder, and he panicked. Despite the Mikey latched onto him, Leo thought, this is it, I've crossed too many lines, their patience has ran thin.

For a moment, he thought now I will be punished.

And for a moment, he thought something much, much worse—now they're going to kick me out.

“I’m sorry,” crawled out of his throat, trying to look between all the brothers with wide eyes, to gauge their state, to, to figure something out. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to lose them, he didn't want to have to return to Big Mama, please, he didn't want to. “I’m sorry, my apologies, I-I just misunderstood, I insist–” stuttering, stammering, pitiful mess. Inelegant and disorganized and who would want this?!

Mikey tightened his embrace, letting out a high sound.

“Leo, it’s okay,” he insisted, and Leo didn't understand, he didn't understand.

“I don't understand,” Leo’s voice wavered, lost and cracking and desperate. A mess, uncontrolled, unable to cover up his weakness, stupid reactive bad–

“This is my room.” Raph held Leo up in front of the– the– his room, apparently.

It was only due to years of conditioning that Leo didn't cry. I know, I get it, I messed up, you don't have to rub it in, something petulant inside him begged.

But Raph kept carrying him, his walk brisque.

“This is Mikey’s room.” was the next destination, an orange curtain pulled to the side to reveal...

...What Leo would've assumed to be another cell, but he was wrong, he was wrong. So what did he know? Nothing. Clueless little child, doesn't know how the world works, will be eaten alive.

The– the room was well-sized, like the other one. There was a hammock. A big mirror. Paint tubes and spray cans rolling around the floor or organized in boxes. Scattered brushes and pencils, worn clothes, blankets and pillows in many colors. Cutesy lines of fairy lights. Trinkets and toys.

A space that was lived in. A space that was clearly occupied constantly. A space that was shaped through years of use to be cozy and familiar and fun. Leo was so stupid. How could he ever think this was a–

Raph was walking again, and Leo dreaded the next destination. He knew what followed.

“This is Donnie’s room.” and finally Leo was put on his feet.

He was a beloved Battle Nexus star. He’s brute-forced himself through terrible injuries, blinding he crowds with his smile even as blood dribbled down his chin. He was a master at sauntering with a broken leg.

And yet, Leo nearly swayed. And not because of Mikey’s weight. Come to think of it, the roaring in his head didn't feel too unlike a Nexus audience on his worse days. Loud and incoherent and distracting, making everything a little blurry and very overwhelming.

His smile was a trained muscle.

Donnie’s room was the largest. Likely because it didn't stop at his room, but continued into another space, which was his lab.

Leo had literally already been here before. They'd just entered through the laboratory’s second entrance. The one that connected it to the second floor of their Lair.

He hadn't even thought about– he hadn't thought–

“I’m sorry,” Leo whispered. The stupid child in him wanted to collapse to the ground and start screeching, bang his head against the floor until it stopped being broken and useless.

He wasn't doing anything right! He was just– mechanically apologizing! He was supposed to pay attention, to think, to fix this! Not, not just... stare and have an internal tantrum! Gah!

Say something worthwhile. Do something worthwhile.

Be worth something.

Donnie stormed off, and Leo’s traitorous heart was aching in its rampant beating. He was frozen in order to perserve the shreds of his composure. He was breathing far too steadily, which was telling enough.

He wanted to cry. Crying was one of the worst options right now.

...Unless.

Unless... Leo could guilt trip them. They were Splintersons, they weren't Big Mama, right? They said they operated differently, right?

They were so emotional. So kind and empathetic. So genuine. They were good.

Leo could absolutely guilt trip them.

He just– he just needed to let out the cry building up in his throat. Needed to let the tears burst through.

...Why... why couldn't Leo cry?

He couldn't cry.

...That's fine, that's fine, he's a performer, he can fake it.

“Leo, I’m not–” Raph put a hand on Leo’s shoulder, turning him so they were face to face and Raph’s expression was visible. Wide-eyed, a chasm in his forehead, wet.

“I’m sorry,” Leo declared, ugly and wet, face twisted, and Raph physically recoiled in sheer surprise.

“No, you don't have t–!”

“I’m sorry, please don't kick me out, you guys are just so good and I messed up and I didn't mean to and I’m just so stupid and–!” it was a very ugly act, words unclear and snively. The kind of tantrum you'd get beaten for, or be locked in your room with no dinner.

By the distraught look on Raph’s face, it might be working. Even Mikey unlatched himself from the hug (and Leo ached) to observe Leo’s performance, shocked.

Right. They... they've never seen him emotional. Well, certainly not like this. Leo just– he didn't usually engage with people on whom guilt tripping would be effective!

But he knows how to do it. Quite well.

Even if the desperate need to break down into tears just refused to surface, for some reason. All these years being beaten over the head to stop all this crying, and NOW he can't cry?! Psh. Of course.

“Kick you– Leo we're not kicking you out, what–?” Mikey gaped.

“It’s okay, Leo, hey, it’s okay, just calm down,” Raph placated. “You didn't do anything wrong, it’s okay!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo sniffed loudly, miming rubbing his face like he’d teared up.

“You don't need to apologize! It’s okay!” Mikey joined the insistence, both of them hovering over him. Oh yeah baby, just like Big Mama’s minions hovering over her dramatic demands. Woe is little Leonardo.

Okay, note to self, guilt tripping absolutely works on the Jitsus.

“Raph is really sorry for overwhelming you!” Raph exclaimed, wringing his hands. “I, I just– I wanted to show you– to show you! You know? That I wasn't like, lying or, or tricking you or something!” the poor guy explained.

“Man, why didn't you mention something? You just– accepted being in what you thought was a cell?” Mikey was very saddened by this.

“I didn't see anything wrong with it?” Leo said, now calmer after he regained the reins of the conversation. “I mean, I’m new. Makes sense there will be a trial period,” he chuckled.

Both brothers looked like they wanted to burst into tears.

“No,” Mikey’s voice cracked. “No, it doesn't make sense! This isn't, this isn’t–!”

“This ain't just a team, Leo!” Raph sniffed. “We're a family! And you're one of us, you're family!”

Leo would cry all the tears he must to make that happen.

And then Donnie returned.

And Donnie shoved something in Leo’s hands.

And Leo felt calmer now. He felt like he could get things under his grasp now.

All of that crashed when he looked at the small ball of blue cloth in his hands.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, and I could be wrong,” Donnie fidgeted, a little awkward, “but from my observations, you... I thought blue would fit.”

Leo stared, completely thrown back.

Leo slowly unfurled the strip of cloth.

“And we’d have to make additional alterations to ensure it will not shrivel up or fray,” Donnie added. “But I– I think it's pretty good, for the short notice,”

…A mask.

A bandana, a headband, a, a– like theirs.

It was cut like Mikey’s. It was long like Raph’s. Donnie seemed to have cut it himself.

And it wasn't red. It wasn't black or white, or something neutral like gray or brown.

It was blue.

Blue, blue, blue. A really, really nice shade of blue. Right now, maybe Leo’s favorite blue.

“You're one of us now,” Donnie said quietly, a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“You're part of the team!” Raph insisted, his hand on Leo’s other shoulder.

“You’re our brother,” Mikey crushed him in a hug again. Raph followed his example and dragged them all into his expansive embrace.

Leo– Leo has never been part of a family group hug before. And not just because he never had the family for it.

Big Mama wasn't really into hugs. And when she dished one out, it wasn't... warm, personal, affectionate. Not really. Not truly. Never.

Not... not like this.

The blue mask was still held (clutched, really) in Leo’s hand. And Leo was held in–

In... in his brothers’ arms.

Oh. Oh.

His brothers.

They– they–

“And you're our equal,” Donnie vehemently insisted into the hold that was crushing him just a little. “This isn't a trick or, or manipulation, I have no ulterior motive or secret gain, I'm not doing this for kicks, you're not below us and we are not above you, you're our equal, okay? Am I missing something?” Donnie rambled, like he was trying to tick off all boxes. Like he was making a contract and was trying to dodge any and all possible loopholes.

“And it's not a hypothetical and there's no hidden strings attached! And you don't have to put up with unpleasant stuff or prove yourself!” Mikey joined him. “And you don't have to act or lie or... change yourself so we like you ‘cause we already do!!!”

“You’re family, we love you–!!!” Raph exclaimed.

“Okay, okay!” Leo laughed, though it was a little too quivery, raising a hand to–

–to wipe off his face.

...What?

…When did he start crying?

What??? Leo stared at his hand, with the teensy spot of wet from the tear.

Oh no, oh no was he ruining the moment? He totally ruined it, he–

–Mikey grabbed his hand and gently pulled it away.

“I’m crying too,” he giggled, “It's a Mad Dog thing,”

The sentence rang and looped in Leo’s brain.

I’m crying too. It's a Mad Dog thing.

Oh, oh he was crying more now. Yikes.

It still made him feel panicky and wrong. It was the destabilization of his breathing, blinking his eyes to clear up his vision, a warmth, the way the tears tickled his cheeks.

But he was laughing. Shaky and wet, he was laughing.

It built off of Mikey’s giggle, and then Raph also snorted and then he was laughing too. And it was so ridiculous, it just made Leo cackle more.

Heck, even Donnie huffed, cracked up by the absurdity, and then they were all just snorting and chuckling in a group hug. Like a bunch of weirdos.

And with it all, Leo felt so ridiculously light. So warm. There was a warm buzzing within him, like pins and needles.

Love love, or whatever, haha.

“I haven't even put the mask on yet,” Leo pointed out, and with a couple “Oh right–” and “Whoops!” and such the group hug disbanded.

Leo unfurled the blue cloth. There were even two holes for the eyes. How stupid would it be if they didn't fit, hah?

The others looked at him with anticipation. Excitement. Giddiness, even.

Leo lifted the mask, and tied it at the back with a double knot.

It fit perfectly.

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