#apocalyptic hygiene

[hopefromadoomedtimeline]

He’s going to sit this conversation out. He’s ended up smelling pretty bad in the past, turns out the apocalypse didn’t always guarantee water for him to shower with.

[howtofightwrite]

perhaps an odd/specific question, but if a character got shot through the hand at very close range without access to medical care (apocalypse) how serious would that injury be? would it be possible to bandage/treat it without medical knowledge?

So, there's a couple factors here that could have a meaningful impact. However, on the question of how serious, this depends on your definition. If you're asking, “is this life threatening?” The answer is yes, but probably not for the reason you're thinking of. If you're asking, “will this cause significant changes to what the character can do,” then, again, the answer is yes.

The chances of bleeding to death from a gunshot wound to the hand aren't especially high, if the wound is properly bandaged, and the victim can stop bleeding. That last part isn't guaranteed, but unless there's some contributing factor (like a history of alcoholism), if they can stop the bleeding, that won't be what kills them.

What might kill them is bacterial infection. Contrary to popular belief (and, even contrary to what I've said in the past), bullets do not burn hot enough to sterilize the bullet. Meaning the bullet can be a vector for bacterial infection (of course, the bandage, and any debris forced into the body by the gunshot, are more likely to become vectors.) In a post-apocalyptic setting, without access to medical treatment, a bacterial infection can absolutely kill you.

Of course, improper bandage hygiene can also result in an infection, days after the original gunshot wound occurred. In a post-apocalyptic environment, you really do not want to ignore open wounds.

On the non-lethal side of the question, they're never going to be able to use that hand again. At least, it's not going to be the same, ever again. How bad it is will depend on what they were hit with. But, in most circumstances, a gunshot to the hand will break bones in the hand. In many cases the bullet can even eject bone fragments from the hand.

Without medical treatment, broken bones in the palm of the hand can permanently impair its use, but when you're ejecting critical portions of the hand's structure, yeah, that's not going to work right without those bits. When you look at most of your skeletal structure, your bones basically create a kind of intricate pulley system. Depending on what's damaged, destroyed, or ejected, that might mean that some fingers are still functional, or it could create a situation where they're unable to use their fingers at all. In some cases (such as with a shotgun), you might even eject enough material that the hand itself is completely unsalvageable.

So, the short version is, it might not kill your character, but that hand is going to be very seriously messed up, and it will probably, permanently change their life, and might still kill them later.

-Starke

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[zombholic]

HE’S SO LUCKY PT. 3 — abby anderson

summary — warning: do not fall in love with a straight girl, or do you never know.

description — outbreak!abby, poc fem!reader, frenemies, angsty, SMUT MDI, switch!abby, switch!reader, inexperienced abby, comphet!abby, TW MENTION OF OWEN.

authors note — is this what yall wanted 😁🙌🏽 guys i was listening to taylor swift which is why its so dramatic …

The whole way back to base was lingered in silence, tension and anger. You were quick to make your way to your room, grabbing your shower supplies before heading to the the communal showers living in the apocalyptic world didn’t stop you from smelling good, you truly were more worried for your hygiene than the clicker that was attacking you.

Letting the water fall onto you was so blissful, hearing the doors open you opened your eyes only to meet those blue ones you longed for. Rolling your eyes at the blonde you turned to face the shower head, you discreetly watched as she undressed and took her undid her long braid.

Abby’s hair fell to her lower back, you shouldn’t be looking at her like this but my god we don’t call her Abs for nothing. Quickly adverting your eyes you lathered up the soap all over your body.

“Can we please talk.” She broke the silence, all you could do was sigh heavily turning your head to face her now drenched hair and body under the shower.

“While we’re naked? Classy Abs.” You spoke with sarcasm your eyes fighting the urge to lower your eyes from her face to her chest.

“It’s only us in here and I really need to talk to you, please?” She gave you that puppy face that made you melt.

“Speak.” You licked your teeth now shampooing your hair, eyes now shut to avoid it getting in them.

“Ever— ever since you kissed me I’ve been feeling things, at first I thought I was just confused but Y/n I think I have feelings for you?” You felt your heart stop beating for a second only to start racing you swore it was showing through your chest.

Swallowing deeply you licked your lips, rising the shampoo off your hair. Turning your head you looked at her, nervously biting your bottom lip.

“Abby, you’re in love with Owen and I don’t want to be your little experiment.” She was now inching towards you, both of you still completely naked in the showers.

“I don’t love him, Y/nn, I think I love you.” She placed her hands on your waist, looking at you so lovingly it made your stomach churn.

“No, no, we can’t, this is wrong, we are wrong—“ You pushed her hands off your wet body, turning off the water and quickly wrapping your body in your towel.

“You’re just saying that because you realized what I told you earlier was true and now you want to fuck with my head.” You rambled collecting your things, you didn’t know what to feel? You wanted this, you wanted her, you have her why are you pushing her away?

“Y/n, please.” You heard her voice break a little, it ached your heart but you knew she wasn’t over Owen.

Shaking your head you left the showers and made your way to your dorm that you shared with some scientist that you couldn’t even bother to remember her name.

A few days past by after Abby’s love confession you were still very baffled by everything but luckily today you weren’t assigned to go on patrol, you gave Leah your word that you would hangout with her and to be honest you need to talk to someone about what happened and what better person than your best friend.

There you laid on her bed looking at all the polaroids she took, you imagined that in the real world she would’ve been one of those people who took pictures for a living, just can’t get your mind to remember what the word was. You lingered at the picture she took of you and Abby, your names written on the bottom.

Y/n + Abby.

“I need your advice.” You sighed turning your head to look at your friend who was trying to organize her backpack. Her head shot up, tongue poking out meaning she was very concentrated.

“Huh.” She nodded her head, hands now behind her as she leaned back now giving you her attention.

“Abby told me she loved me.” You saw as her eyes widened and jaw dropped.

“When were you gonna tell me this? And isn’t that a good thing? You don’t seem happy about it.” She tilted her head with thousands of questions spilling out.

“I feel like she was just saying that to mess with me cause I told her that Owen doesn’t love her.” You shrugged your shoulder now sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n, you stupid bitch, Abby isn’t like that, she never was and she sure doesn’t just tell anyone that she loves them romantically.” She hit your leg, you scoffed now biting on the edge of your nails.

You two decided to head down to the cafeteria for a quick meal, you just wanted to get Abby off your mind for a second. Grabbing yourself a burrito you guys sat at the table her boyfriend was sat at with his friends, your eyes roamed around the cafeteria a slight part of you wishing Abby was here.

It’s like your wish came true in the worst way, you saw the tall blonde chatting away with her ex. You felt sick to your stomach, she did lie to you, why was she so happy talking to him. Putting the burrito down knowing if you took another bite you would throw up.

Getting up from your seat you walked over to her, she turned her head hearing loud footsteps approaching the side of her only for her eyes to widen like she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“You’re a piece of shit Abby.” You shoved her shoulders hard enough for her back to hit the fall.

“No Y/n, this isn’t what it looks like—“ You couldn’t even let her finish speaking, tears threatening to spill down your face so you shook your head and walked away, back to your room.

You heard her chasing after you, calling out your name from behind you, when you reached the door of your room you turned on your heels to face her, jaw clenched and fist balled up.

“Fuck you, I knew you were lying to me.” You tried to steady your breathing trying so hard not to punch her in the face.

“Oh my god Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you that I love you! I only want you!” She shouted causing you to flinch a little.

“Then prove it Abby, prove that you love me!” The tears now spilling down your cheeks so suddenly it broke her heart.

She cupped your face in her hands, her own tears starting to fall down her face. Leaning down she pressed her lips against your puffy ones, the kiss filled with so much passion you could only deepen it. She was the first to pull away her eyes fluttering open, you looked up at her through your wet lashes, wrapping your arms around her neck you pulled her back into you kissing her deeply.

She opened the door to your room, shutting it behind her as she grabbed the back of your thighs and had you wrap them around her waist, never breaking the kiss. She walked over to your bed gently placing you on your back.

“You’re so beautiful.” She mumbled into the kiss, you swore you could’ve combusted at that.

Her lips leaving yours to trail down your jaw down to your neck, nibbling and sucking until she left your neck freckled with her love bites. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it somewhere on your floor, her hands grabbing the hem of yours repeating the same action done to her.

Her eyes were so soft but her lips were even softer as she kissed down the valley of your chest, fingers snaking behind your bra to unclasp it letting it fall off, she felt like she was in heaven not hesitating to fondle them in her enormous hands.

Her lips connected with your perky nipple, looking up at you with those puppy eyes, your fingers behind her neck pushing her closer.

“More, please.” You let out a breathy sigh, you felt your arousal pooling in your panties.

Her hands came down to your jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them off you along with your panties, she was kneeled down by the edge of your bed as she spread your legs apart. She almost moaned at the sight of your soaked cunt.

“Did I do this baby?” She half joked peppering little kisses around your inner thighs.

“Mhmm.” You nodded sinking your teeth into your bottom lip “Need you Abs.” You whimpered out.

She tossed your legs over her shoulders, trying to go off what pleased her. Her thick fingers parting your cunt watching as your needy pussy clenched at the air. She slipped in her two fingers curling them the way she died for.

“Oh my— fuck Abby.” You whimpered feeling so full with just her fingers.

Her pace quickend the sound of your squelching pussy and her fingers drilling into you made her head fuzzy.

“Like this baby? You like that?” Her eyes never leaving your blissed out face, needing to know you were feeling good.

“Yes baby, keep doing that, makin’ me feel s’good.” You assured her, your fingers gripping onto her hair.

Her lips wrapped around your clit sucking on it causing your legs to shake, mouth forming an O shape as you chanted her name over and over again.

“Abby, Abby fuck I’m gonna cum baby.” You whined your stomach knotting that familiar feeling.

“Cum all over my face pretty girl, give it to me.” She moaned into your pussy sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hitting you like a thousand bricks, eyes rolling to the back of your head the only thing in your brain was the sound of static. She helped you ride out the intense sensation, slipping her fingers out and sucking on them moaning at the taste of your juices.

“C’mere.” You grabbed her jaw pulling her up to you, smashing your lips against hers, teeth clashing.

You had her lay down on the bed, slipping her cargos off leaving her boy shorts on. Your head leaned against her muscular thigh as your thumb rubbed her clit through her shorts lazily.

“Baby please don’t tease.” Her voice rasped, begging for you to give her what she was aching for.

You hovered your face over her happy trail, tongue tracing down the line before leaving kissing along her v-line. Your fingers hooked onto her panties slipping them off, seeing how her pussy was basically drooling for you.

“Such a pretty girl, pretty pussy.” Your arms hooked under her thighs fingers digging into her flesh.

Your tongue lapped up her cunt, savoring her taste like it was the last meal on earth. Her fingers were quick to grab your hair, you sucked on her puffy pink clit, your tongue sliding into her cunt eating her like your life depended on it.

“Baby, fuck you’re fuckin me so good.” She grunted out riding her clit on your nose, the smell of her made you feral.

The room was filled with the most pornographic noises and the smell of sex. Her moans were getting needier, louder, god if it was possible you snuck your tongue in deeper inside of her.

“Cummin, m’cumming baby.” The grip she had on your hair tightened so good, you felt her cum seep down your chin causing you to suck up all her juices making her cry out feeling overstimulated.

“Fuck I love you Anderson.” You giggled wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

[mizuki-nautilus]

The Dragon slayer - Malleus Draconia x Reader

So, I thought it would be fun to write a short fanfiction inspired by the popular joke about MC and Malleus having a relationship like Donkey and the Dragoness from Shrek. Of course, this fanfic does not have spoilers from Diasomnia Chapter and is more a parody of Shrek.

The long-awaited apocalyptic event has occurred in this magical realm. Malleus Draconia, the one and only, has finally overblotted, leaving the survival rate of the people living in this world near to 0%.

As the end drew near, all hope seemed lost. But amidst the chaos and the desperate attempts to calm the raging flames of Malleus, Ace's voice cut through the turmoil. "[Y/N]!!!!!! DO YOUR THING!!!" he cried out in desperation. Confused and scared, [Y/N] searched frantically for a safe place to take cover. "WHAT?! What do you mean?!!" she yelled back, barely audible over the roar of the flames. "DON’T ACT STUPID AND DO YOUR THING!!!!" Ace repeated, his voice shaking with urgency.

Despite [Y/N]'s attempts to feign ignorance, she was well aware of what Ace was referring to. She may have tried to act as if nothing was going on, but the truth was that a lot was happening between her and Malleus. Prior to the current catastrophic events, [Y/N] and Malleus had developed a close bond, one that could be described as somewhat cheesy. Though they weren't officially a couple, it was clear that they were for sure a few steps to become one.

And it's not that [Y/N] lacked the courage to flirt with the man of her dreams. Rather, it was the embarrassment of doing so in front of her closest friends. "Sorry, Ace! I didn't hear you!" [Y/N] lied, trying to play it cool. "OH MY GOD, [Y/N], JUST DO AS ACE SAID!!!!" Deuce desperately interjected into the conversation.

“Fuck!” [Y/N] cursed. Amidst the debris, broken pillars, thorn vines, and green flames, [Y/N] sprinted as close as possible towards Malleus, cursing under her breath. As she reached him, she stood before his intimidating frame and trembled before saying, "HEY! Tsunotarou!!!"

[Y/N] stood frozen in fear as his eyes bore into hers, his icy green gaze sending shivers down her spine. The room was enveloped by Malleus's intimidating presence, overshadowing everything and everyone. Tension hung heavy in the air, as he advanced towards her with measured steps that resounded ominously on the ground.

In a voice that seemed to rattle the very walls around them, Malleus spoke to her, his words dripping with anger and disdain, "Child of man…" [Y/N] stammered and stuttered, trying to find the right words to say. "Y-you… um… your teeth… they're… so big!" she blurted out, causing everyone else in the room to facepalm in unison, except for Malleus who remained stoic.

"I MEAN!! White sparkling teeth!!" [Y/N] tried to correct herself, her words stumbled, and her movements became awkward. She even tried to pose seductively, but it only added to the cringe-worthy moment. Grim, unable to believe how bad she was at this, muttered under his breath, "Oh my god, we really are going to die."

After pondering for a moment, [Y/N] spoke up again, "I bet you use some kind of powerful teeth whitening, because your smile is absolutely dazzling." [Y/N] tried to smile back, "And is that a hint of mint I detect? Your dental hygiene must be impeccable." As [Y/N]'s cringe-worthy compliments echoed through the room, everyone winced in discomfort. However, a glimmer of hope emerged as the green flames that had engulfed the college began to subside.

“You are undoubtedly the most HANDSOME dragon in this world,” [Y/N] boldly proclaimed, after that she followed it up with a painfully cringe-worthy joke, "You know if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." but even if words stumbled out of her mouth and caused the room to fall silent with secondhand embarrassment the thing seem to work out.

As they watched in amazement, Malleus's menacing expression softened into a tender and affectionate gaze, thanks to [Y/N]'s miraculously effective but cringe-worthy attempts at flirting. It was hard to believe that the unapproachable Malleus Draconia could be charmed by [Y/N]'s terrible flirting skills, but here we are.

Suddenly, Malleus spoke [Y/N]'s name tenderly and reached out to delicately touch her cheek. As his hand made contact, the thorn vines surrounding them began to bloom, filling the room with a lovely scent and enchanting sight of red roses. Some petals even seemed to float through the air, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

As Malleus leaned in towards [Y/N], the shattered remains of the building suddenly began to repair themselves, piece by piece, until everything was restored to its former glory. The world around them faded into insignificance as their lips met, and at that moment, time stood still. The air was thick with the fragrance of roses, and petals danced around them like confetti. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the world snapped back into focus, and Malleus and [Y/N] were gone, leaving behind five opened-mouth people.

Ace began to speak, but was interrupted by Deuce who interjected with the words, "Yes, Ace. It happened," leaving Deuce himself perplexed. Ortho then chimed in, cutely stating that he had everything recorded on his built-in 4K camera, knowing that the cringe moment they had just witnessed could be of use to Idia some day. "That was like a scene from some underground visual novel. I never thought things like that actually happened in real life," said Idia, still dumbfounded.

And with that, our charming heroine was able to rescue this realm from its impending doom.

The End.

[generic-whumperz]

Benny (Character Sheet)

(Picrew)

Playlist | Moodboards | Masterlist | Character Info | Lexicon

Overview: In a post-apocalyptic world where an outbreak of debated origin has transformed people into flesh-eating monsters, Benny, a fisherman from Cajun-country Southern Louisiana, is just an ordinary man trying to support his family during difficult times. But his fate is forever changed after he catches the attention of Arcadian Baron Xavier LeBlanc after winning a brutal fight against a horde of afflicted in the fighting pits. His victory leads to an offered position as one of Xavier's concubines, but he soon discovers that this position involves more than just hedonistic sex parties. Benny discovers Xavier's corruption and nefarious activities, including the Baron's connection to the mysterious disappearances of several local women. Outraged, Benny decides to take matters into his own hands. After risking it all and exposing Xavier's wrongdoings to the town, the ensuing revolt claims the lives of Arcadian envoys and vassals alike. Xavier, fed up with Benny’s insolence, retaliates by sentencing Benny to a life of slavery and selling him to a buyer on the West Coast.

Full name: Benôit Onésiphore Boudreaux (Benny)

Role: Second lead protagonist (Whumpee)

Date of Birth & sign: February 10, 2005 (27), Aquarius (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: bi (and DTF)

Height: 6'

Weight/body type/build: working man's build—very fit and muscular. Unfairly ripped, is good googly moogly ridiculous. (How does it feel to be creator's favorite?)  

Hometown: Atchafalaya, Toussaint Parish, Louisiana (re-used name, fictional place in the southern boot of LA area)

Fav genre of music & anthem: blues rock; Born On The Bayou by: CCR

Family Members: Oldest child and only son. Both parents deceased. Younger sisters in order from oldest to youngest: Genevieve, Sabine, Estelle, Cordelia. Adopted children whose families died after the outbreak. Father & big brother figure 2-in-1. (All surviving Boudreaux family members + adopted kids are in the infographic below.) Family over everything mentality. Provider.

Left/right handed: left

Occupation: fisherman, helps run family-owned bait & tackle shop

Ethnicity (+ American): Indigenous (predominantly  Choctaw), Cajun/Creole (mixed colonial French, Native American, and Haitian ancestry). Appearance-wise, looks unmistakably Native. 

Hair color & length: long, straight, thick black hair, hits mid-back. Usually tied in a low pony, braided, or thrown up in a messy bun. Facial hair: none to be had. Has little to no body hair and looks like a smooth baby dolphin. Has never used a razor in his life, plucks random hairs as they surface.

Hygiene: smells like swamp water and fishing boat gunk 90% of the time. Bathes daily and spends a lot of time taming his mane and doing hair masks. Decently hygienic (having four sisters), but isn't afraid to get dirty and wrestle in some mud.   

Eye color: russet brown. Deep-set, thin, almond-shaped eyes. Has "sly eyes."  

Skin tone: light brown, golden tan with warm undertones.

Facial features: oblong head with high cheekbones. Wide, full lips with heavy upper lip. Hooked nose. Flat, thick eyebrows. Round, slightly pointed ears (no, not like an elf) with free lobes.  

Mannerisms: very animated and talks with his hands, uses a lot of body language. Hums, whistles, and sings songs at random.   

Nervous ticks: shifts and wiggles around more. Rocks in a chair if sitting. Paces. Runs fingers through hair, plays with hair. Flexes hands and toes. Shrugs, rolls shoulders. Cracks neck and fingers, rolls head in a circle or a back/forth motion. Blinks a lot and shakes head. Bounces knee. Talks more and rambles, may repeat a question reworked in different ways, *disbelief*. Uses inappropriate humor to cope. Grimaces. Stretches, may start dancing/tapping feet. Drums fingers.

Posture: relaxed and casual. Slumps back in seat or leans forward, elbows on knees. Has an unfortunate tendency to manspread.

Style: "It fits? I gets." Nearly everything is stained and a hand-me-down. Usually in smelly fishing gear. When not, in a white tank or T-shirt with sleeves cut off, old ripped jeans, tattered old boots, or no shoes at all. All shorts are old jeans he cut (jorts go hard). Tribal print and lumberjack flannels, buttoned jackets, Carhart vests, old sweatshirts, wrinkled and faded T-shirts, beaded jewelry, and custom jackets made by his fashionista sister, Estelle. 

Health: initially very healthy with no conditions or allergies

Piercings/tattoos: piercings—2 holes (lobe and upper lobe), tragus on both ears and a Prince Albert (🍆). Tattoos (so many, all B&W): strand of 5 traditional-style flowers on upper chest, just below collar bones. Barbed wire in the shape of a heart on the left peck over the heart with a small cherub pulling back bow as if about to shoot an arrow at it on the right shoulder. Traditional Choctaw tribal pattern strip encircling right bicep. Beaded armband with two feathers tied in the middle—starts on upper-mid left arm and stops about 4" short from elbow. Mermaid with shell crown on top left forearm. Optical illusion crocodile swimming half-in, half-out of water on top of right arm. Optical illusion fishing hook stuck in skin on outer left wrist. Tomahawk with peace pipe end on left side over ribs. Scorpion around belly button, crawling down towards below waistline. Sun and moon kissing surrounded by clouds on mid left thigh. Shrimp above outer left ankle. (Tat sheet & references below.) 

Birthmarks/scars: scar across left cheek. "X" slave branding scar on right hand.  

Language(s): English, some Cajun French

Personality: extroverted, adaptable, friendly and charismatic, good-natured, energetic, sincere, outspoken, optimistic, excitable, loyal, motivated, facetious, compassionate, quick-witted, patient, confident, genuine (never pretends to be someone he isn't), but can be a schmoozer

Vices:  weed, moonshine/hooch, casual sex, drunk fishing.

Voice: loud. Rich Cajun twang, smooth and silky despite the volume at which he speaks.

Smells like: when dirty—swamp, mildew, and fish. When clean—earthy scent with aquatic undertones: Spanish moss, evergreen and Cyprus, soliflore gardenia, and blue gum eucalyptus.    

Face claim(s): (young) Eddie Spears (top row), Michael Hudson (bottom row, big shoutout to @3-2-whump for finding Michael!)

Character inspiration: nothing in particular; I just thought I was missing something, and thus, Benny was born and slowly revealed himself to me in parts. I knew I needed a wild swamp man.

Other: has wrestled alligators and isn't afraid of shit besides catfish (his mortal enemy). Harmonica champion. Consumes ungodly amounts of shrimp. 

 

Character sheet filled out from his POV

Tattoo Placement Sheet (+ Scars):

Tattoo reference pics from Pinterest:

(sorry, yeah he has Pinterest tats, I’m not a professional)

Surviving family tree:

[sunflowersteves]

I did a lot of reflecting with myself and my very wonderful and lovely mutuals on an anon I received about confusion on my fic.

And I just wanna say, first, that my response was a very nice one, and also me defending some of the choices that I made (again, v nicely). But I realized after thinking about it that the reason I responded in the first place was that I felt as though it was my fault. The entire tone of the ask felt extremely accusatory, and not once asked kindly for any help.

No author should be torn down and ridiculed from your own confusion. Even if we look past the blatantly rude and entitled tone, the anon didn’t say hi, didn’t ask for any clarification, didn’t point to any specific passages or quotes, and didn’t ask if they could send me a dm. They didn’t give me anything to work with.

They just ridiculed me. They asked if I was serious—if I could “get things straight.” They told me every single issue they had rather than actually engaging with me on any confusion.

I have no problems if someone is confused about dialogue or plot or character decisions and asks, kindly, for clarification. Please, understand that. I encourage you, very much so, that if you are confused, please let me know. I will gladly help, and I have in the past.

And! I have no problems if you don’t like the choices I make regarding the plot points of my fic. that’s okay! You don’t have to. You’re not obligated to enjoy every single fic you read.

But when you tear my fic, limb from limb, and make me feel extremely discouraged, to the point where I thought any and all problems were my fault when it was yours? Especially as the pieces they complained about are in the warnings. All of them. Yeah, that’s not okay.

Here’s a bullet point list of some of the “confusion” they had and how I know their ask in my ask box was bullshit:

Joel was mean (in the warnings)

Joel is jealous (in the warnings and the literal plot of the series)

reader gets mad at Joel, Joel gets mad at reader (in the warnings)

smut after a six-week coma/hygiene (we’re literally talking about a post-apocalyptic reality, and others have confirmed with me that the reader is heavily implied to be bathed)

Joel is jealous (referenced again; THE PLOT & IN WARNINGS)

Ellie is two doors down from the smut happening (she is not, use context clues)

My point in responding and breaking down their “confusion” is to point out two things.

One? Read the warning tags. For the love of god, read the warnings all the way through. I promise you, you will not only understand more about the fic but you also won’t be surprised by anything.

Two? Please don’t do this to writers on this app OR anywhere at all. This is not how you ask for help when you need it. This is an extremely rude, arrogant, and entitled way of telling a writer you’re “confused.” I seriously doubt you would tell a writer this irl, in my opinion.

If you actually want authors, especially on this app, to engage with you, write the fics you want them to write, etc., DONT ACT LIKE THIS.

But also, it’s my fanfiction. It’s my writing. Every ridicule they placed on my fic was given to me as if my particular plot points were awful, and it felt as though they were insinuating that I should change them.

And you know what? I’m 21. I’m a college student. I’m still learning to write because it’s a skill. And that’s okay! It’s okay when fanfics lack clarity or have rough grammar. It’s okay if the plot doesn’t make entirely a lot of sense. It’s okay!

Now, I’m so happy to have grown from that experience, as well as have an amazing support group of people on this app. So, I will continue to be writing the series. I will continue to be writing for that character. I’m not changing a damn thing in my fic for clarification.

Again, I want to thank my mutuals for yanking me back up and helping me understand the depths of the ask they sent me. And big, big thanks to @honeystevie for helping me see that because without her initial reply, I’m sure I would’ve been in a very large discouraged writing hole. love you, rika <3

tagging some wonderful mutuals as a thanks and I’m giving a big hug: @moonlight-prose @cocoamoonmalfoy @tarrenterror25 @themarcusmoreno @fleurfairie @indouloureux @ghostofskywalker @iraot @dearest-readers @fxllfaiiry @fluffyprettykitty @targaryenvampireslayer @galatially @navybrat817 @rae-gar-targaryen @saradika

[rain-droplet]

honestly, I hate it that so many characters in media are made to be good looking. I love all these characters but why do they all need to be actual models ? can't they be average, or god forbid, a little ugly ? we can write characters that the reader is meant to like without making them gorgeous on the outside. the couple in your story shouldn't both be gorgeous, they should be average and see each other as gorgeous because they're in love. your post apocalyptic characters should not have a skin care routine like they live in a sephora (unless they actually live in an abandoned sephora, in which case, that's amazing and you should write that down). your high fantasy characters without technology should not have perfect hygiene unless they have magic for that. your British characters should not have good teeth. show me physical flaws as well as character flaws. give me characters that have tons of insecurities about how they look, while still being beautiful characters. people are all beautiful in their own ways, both in their characters and physically, but most people aren't conventionally gorgeous. there is beauty to be seen in flaws, things people who love them can point out in other characters, but your zombie fighting main character should not be hot, they should be fucked up and unhygienic and dishevel, they can have a nice jawline and muscles but they should at least have acne. you're excused if the story doesn't want to be realistic or if you just want them to be hot for no reason, but don't just write a character and slap "drop dead gorgeous" on them and pretend like they're normal

[ankhmeanswombman]

No one can "oppress" you if you do not depend on anyone for anything. Oppression cannot exist where the sovereign individual thrives. People who want a horizontal egalitarian society are delusional because the economic ladder exists for a reason, to give motivated, resourceful, skilled and hardworking individuals the chance to thrive and achieve mastery. If you do not contribute to the society you are in, you will naturally remain at the lowest echelons. If you are stupid and self centered enough to breed while in such circumstances that's on you and your retribution will be witnessing your offspring suffer. Some of the children born in (spiritual!) poverty will have a rags to riches story and escape the chain of suffering by putting in the work but most will sink and go under because again, most people are a product of their environments and have no higher thinking. Poverty starts out in the mind and only then begins to infect the environment around it. Breeding neediness creates poverty of all kinds and poor sanitation/poor hygiene creates the conditions in which poverty thrives the most. Very few people have it in them to survive in any type of anarchist utopia and contrary to some interpretations, communism is about as far from anarchism as it gets. Anarchism is all about sovereignty and self dependence, and communism is all about equal division of all resources and placing everybody at an equal playing field when such an equal playing field does not exist in nature. People need to get right within and stop being entitled to things. If you cannot provide for self, no one is responsible for providing for you. I shouldn't even need to be saying this at this point, but "provide and protect" is part of the communist fallacy of co-dependence too. Anything that doesn't place individualist sovereignty first is designed to lure in society's weakest links. Breeding is the greatest evil these NPCs can ever commit so perhaps sterilisation isn't as bad as some make it out to be (how mentally unhinged do you have to be to get dicked down & pregnant while living in a decrepit wasteland burdened by famine, war, disease and desertification). The elite will provide a solution for every problem created by society's weakest links and then be called "evil" for it, yet who is keeping the elite in power? Higher level thinkers should detach themselves from all the constructs designed to help the mentally hollow NPC. We are living in a post-apocalyptic Garden of Eden and biting the apple created need, to which we are now slaves as a species. Fasting and celibacy will help you cleanse some of your sensual dependencies and allow you to see a little beyond the hologram. Keep on challenging yourself and remember that just by virtue of understanding that you are living in a cosmic womb (look up bok globules - star embryos!) you are better off then 90% + of the population who worship at the alter of phallic fathergod.

[bluescribble]

I started to rizz up Hal and somehow it came to the topic of flirtlarping with Roxy, which gave some insight into her situation concerning the RPing she does with him.

Like, we know to a certain extent that she does semi-flirt with AR as a way to cope with her situation, however it may not be for the sole reason of compensating her unrequited crush on Dirk prior to the game. It isn't known how intense it is (by that I mean, if it becomes salacious or not, but I personally think not, or not too much, she has a tendency to hint at her important feelings in roundabout ways to not make a statement that big of a deal.) But then I think, Roxy really is RPing as a way to look forward to something other than her basic needs (eating, drinking, hygiene etc...) and may have had to have that kind of conversation with AR who tried to help her in his while manipulative, also with what was among his capacities. He must have noticed her addiction, and I like to imagine her subconsciously talking to AR's handle to avoid doing something she might regret later or just as part of her routine to give more meaning into her life. Even if it is, well, fake. It isn't shown when it really started, but it's possible that it began closely after he was created, when she was 13 years old when she figured out that AR could indeed speak indefinitely.

It really brings things up in perspective, as 4 kids stranded in the middle of nowhere of the post-apocalyptic Earth, even if it "might never go anywhere" she has to rely on what little fun she can get. Honestly I'm surprised the comic hasn't hinted anything with Jane too, since she doesn't seem to mind his presence. AR is shown to be comfortable with Roxy during a pesterlog (idk which one it is i'll link later maybe) when she sent the virus by accident and he explains how he feels his feelings as a machine and exposes Dirk's future confession to Jake once they all enter the game.

Also I like to think AR was lowkey sweet to her (but it's AR), while still being an aloof asshole about it, just like he did above (minus the overt flirting.) I always wondered how it all began honesty. It's a great character AI lol. It's kind of a mess but you get the idea.

TL;DR : AR and Roxy might have gone through a kinda sweet conversation when they decide the parameters of their roleplaying, exposing common Homestuck trauma and angst.

[krafterwrites-alt]

Even more Silver being part of Team Dark HCs

Since Shadow and Rouge both have great personal hygiene routines, the first thing they did after bringing Silver into their home was thoroughly clean him up. He protested at first since he didn’t know them or what cleaning him up would entail, but he quickly began loving it after realizing how nice it is to have soft fur that isn’t covered in debris. Now he uses the same routine as them to keep himself nice and fluffy

A little combination of this AU with my hc that Silver is cold all the time from being acclimated to fire. When it becomes winter for the first time, Rouge cannot get Silver to leave the apartment, even though he does think that the snow outside looks really cool. He puts on a bunch of blankets and clings to Omega as a heat source, even having him run his flamethrowers occasionally until he almost starts a fire. After Silver befriends Blaze, he has her stay over at the apartment as often as possible so that she can keep him warm (through her fire, or just by giving him hugs), and gets sad whenever she has to leave

Since Silver is interested in the fashion of the past but has no sense of style, Rouge takes him out to get clothes as often as possible, and dresses him up in nice outfits. He always ends up loving them, and brags to Shadow that he’s missing out afterwards (Shadow refuses to let Rouge dress him up). Whenever the team is going somewhere where they’re likely to meet someone, Silver asks her to get him an outfit so he can look good and show off how fashionable his teammate is (and also so he can roast his rivals’ clothing)

After knowing Blaze for a while, Silver and the rest of Team Dark would get invited to hang out in the Sol Dimension at the palace. Everyone finds it spectacular and has a great time, but Rouge can’t control herself and tries to swipe a few things along the way (they would be super valuable since they’re from a royal family and another dimension), and gets kicked out. Shadow and Omega willingly leave afterwards, and Blaze tells Silver that he’s always welcome back, but to not bring Rouge with him

Silver is very physically weak at first due to his reliance on psychokinesis, and all the stuff in the apocalyptic future messing up his body while he was growing, so Shadow, Rouge, and Omega all come together to train him. It takes a little while, and it's not very fun for Silver, but it is a moderate success in the end. He's now strong enough to carry milk jugs and grocery bags without psychokinesis, and can run for a short time without collapsing

Silver would take longer to warm up to Amy, but she would eventually be able to form a connection with him, since she knows how sweet he is at his core. She would teach him some useful stuff, like how to cook basic stuff and some of her own baking recipes

Before the above mentioned friendship happens, Team Dark usually just eats junk food and delivery/takeout. Silver will eat almost anything, and has never experienced processed foods before, so the first couple of times he gets to eat fast food or sweets he gets too excited and accidentally makes himself sick. After that, Rouge and Shadow have to pay attention to how much he gets so this doesn't happen anymore

After Amy teaches him cooking and baking, Silver starts making some meals and treats for Team Dark, which they all enjoy. Rouge comments that its like they have a restaurant in their own home (Since before this the only time they had food of this quality was when they all went out to a nice restaurant), which he really appreciates. Silver likes his own cooking the most out of anyone, he thinks its amazing that he's able to make delicious food whenever he wants to. Rouge will rather frequently be up wandering the apartment and find Silver standing near the stove making a snack, and he'll give her a bit of it in exchange for her not saying anything about it

Before Silver has any furniture in his/Omega's room, he'd just sleep on the floor, which he actually didn't mind at all since the floor is carpet and very soft compared to the surfaces he had to sleep on before. However, when Rouge is out one day doing something, he'd go into her room out of curiosity and see her bed. Silver would climb in and instantly fall asleep, and would continue to sleep long after Rouge arrives and notices him there. She tries to wake up him up, but it doesn't work, so she eventually just drags him out of it. He'd land on the floor, still asleep, so Rouge would just sigh and go to bed after making a mental note to get him a bed as soon as he wakes up

Silver would occasionally use his psychokinesis to mess with his teammates, like stealing a piece of food off of a fork before it reaches their mouth. Shadow would get sick of this pretty fast, so he would start doing the same thing back with Chaos Control, and the two begin competing to see who can outdo the other until they both eventually get bored and decide to drop it

[shegatsby]

The Last of Us

Warnings; Post apocalyptic world.

Words; 2.941K

A/N; Hi guys! How are you? I hope you're all well. Joel and reader are getting more close to each other don't worry there will be smut in the future chapters. stay safe and love you!

TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Summary; Ever since childhood you had to survive, you were born before the disease so you kinda remembered what was it like, to have a hot shower, clean food etc. You didn’t know what happened to your parents because they were on a vacation and left you with your grandma who passed away during the chaos. You were 10 when it happened, a child who had to be a woman over night. What happens when you are a brink from killing yourself and find purpose again?

Chapter Four- New chance in life

When they reached to Bill and Franks house it was a relief for her because the house had warm water, it had been years since she had a shower with warm water, ‘’Let’s take a shower because honestly we all stink.’’ She announced and Ellie was the first to take a shower, after her Y/N followed, the house was so tidy yet there were dust everywhere, as soon as she made contact with hot almost boiling water she smiled, as a child she loved warm baths and her parents were kind enough to let her take showers or baths for almost an hour, she closed her eyes as she was washing her long hair, even though she was careful with hygiene it was hard to maintain it in this world. She washed her body and hair, made sure everything was clean and didn’t forget to shave, she had spare razors just in case. When she was done she looked at her reflection in the mirror, the glass was blurred with steam but she could see her silhouette, her hands went to her throat, still burning and bruised. She wondered what would’ve happened if Joel wasn’t there to save her, she would choke to death. Why was he there anyways? A question which will be asked later, she found a white towel to cover herself and left the bathroom to face Joel bringing a box full of women’s clothes, when he saw her like that his footsteps came to a halt and dropped the box on the bed, ‘’it’s uhh women’s clothes for you and Ellie..’’ he said and cleared his throat, her body was wet and hair loose, sticking to her shoulders, he could feel his heart beat go faster than usual, this was the first –he hoped it wouldn’t be last- time that he saw her like this, almost naked and she smelled so good he wanted to hug her and inhale her scent, ‘’Thank you.’’ She smiled kindly, and approached to the bed, there was only a small space between them, he looked at her for the last time to carve that image to his brain and he left without a word, on his way out he heard her giggle to herself.

Their journey began, a man whose heart is aching with heavy mistakes, a kind hearted woman who almost killed herself and a little girl who could change the entire world. A perfect trio if you will, the  truck they took from friends of Joel got them so far but the fuel kept dying out every hour. The cars were left behind and the colors of them faded but they had fuel. Joel used a plastic pipe to get the fuel out, ‘’No wandering!’’ he said sharply to Ellie, it had been a few days since Tess’s death and no one talked about it and they were all tense, ‘’Alright! Let’s address the elephant in the room.’’ Y/N said as she stood up from the top of a car nearby, Joel looked confused, ‘’Ellie, would you like to say anything to Joel about Tess or what happened throughout the days?’’ Ellie as stubborn as Joel shrugged her shoulders, ‘’Joel?’’ Y/N asked crossing her arms in front of her chest which caught Joel’s wandering eyes and didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, ‘’About what?’’ he asked and swallowed, she could see the exact movement on his throat, ‘’About Tess.’’ Y/N, even though she started the conversation confident she wasn’t so sure anymore. ‘’There is nothing to talk about.’’ Joel as usual dismissed her and everyone around him, the car ride was normal, well, normal for Y/N and Joel because they were alive before the pandemic. ‘’So you used to drive one of these to everywhere?’’ Ellie asked, Y/N could see the shine in her brown eyes, ‘’Well, not me. I was 10 when it happened but my parents had their cars. Almost every adult had a car.’’ Ellie found a cassette of Hank Williams, of course she found a magazine that she shouldn’t have. Y/N was sitting on the shot gun, Ellie at the back and Joel driving the car, if it was normal times someone could look at them and think ‘’What a lovely family.’’

‘’Ellie! Put that back.’’ Y/N’s hand went back to get that magazine from her, ‘’Listen to her Ellie, give it back.’’ Joel said trying to focus on the road. ‘’Why are the pages stuck together?’’ and crickets, Joel and Y/N looked at each other, her cheeks flushed deep and Joel’s lips parted. ‘’I’m just fucking with ya!’’ Ellie laughed and threw the magazine out of the car window. Y/N focused on her hands which lay on her lap and they listened Hank Williams. Y/ N laid her head against the window and watched the world pass her by, buildings were covered with ivies and no one was around not even the infected which was good but once these streets and roads were crowded with people but now nothing was left from them. She wondered what happened to her parents she often found herself thinking about them. They were on a vacation, visiting Europe when everything started and she never heard from them again, it had been 23 years… they must be dead or roaming the streets of Europe as infected. Even if they were alive they must be 65-70 years old.  Without realizing, her face fell, since there was silence in the vehicle Joel checked on Ellie first, she was smiling and reading her novel, and Y/N, he gave her a side eye, trying to be not frank about his intentions but he couldn’t help it. He noticed the sudden change in her demeanor, shoulders shrunken and a sullen face, she must be thinking about her past so Joel left her to her thoughts. It was getting late when Joel pulled the car into the forest, thanks to his friends Bill and Frank he got a lot of food supplies. Y/N was the one who cooked in their found family, the first time Joel cooked for them Ellie threw up and frankly said she didn’t like it at all, when Joel looked at Y/N to get reaction she only kindly smiled and finished the food on her plate unwillingly and Joel said that from now on Y/N is cooking. The first time she cooked dinner for them was still in his mind, it was late and he hid the car among trees just like before, placed the heavy equipments for her to do her thing and backed off. When the dinner was ready they sat by the fire and the first one to try was Ellie, at first she had suspicion in her eyes but as soon as she put food in her mouth she closed her eyes, ‘’Fucking amazing! How is this possible with same ingredients and Joel sucked.’’ Joel looked at the plate and Y/N and put a piece in his mouth, Ellie was right. Y/N thought that he didn’t like it or just didn’t want to say anything but later that night while she was at a small pond washing the plates and spoons he came up to her, ‘’That was delicious.’’ That was all he said and before she could say anything he left. She thought tonight would be the same, she cooked and they ate in silence, ‘’Thank you Y/N, that was so awesome!’’ Ellie as usual gave her compliments and went to the car to get her sleeping bag. Y/N stood up to get her now empty plate from the floor to wash the dishes but Joel beat her to it. ‘’I got it.’’ Their fingers caressed for a split second, ‘’But you’ve been driving all day.’’ She protested with her kind and sweet tone, eyes dove, he didn’t say anything to that and changed the subject. ‘’I’m sleeping tonight and drive tomorrow all day all night. I’ll get us to Wyoming next morning.’’ He said as he was walking with the plates, ‘’Why can’t we lit a fire I’m cold as fuck.’’ Ellie complained as she was struggling with her sleeping bag. Few days ago they lit a fire but ever since Joel was persistent of not doing it again, ‘’She is right, why?’’ Y/N asked, ‘’People.’’ That was enough and Y/N thought she saw something in his eyes, something dark and she almost thought he was afraid…

When the night came they went to sleep, Y/N had to share the sleeping bag with Ellie because the house they took supplies from had only two sleeping bags and sharing it with a strange man was not even an option, even though he was insanely attractive… Usually she was a light sleeper so she would hear things around her, and she noticed that every night, it didn’t matter if Joel was tired or not, he would sleep for maybe 3 hours and lay there, awake, sometimes he would get out of his sleeping bag and just sit, take care of his gun, or just stare at her and Ellie. She couldn’t figure out if it was cute or creepy but knowing that he somewhat cares about them made her feel warm.

In the morning Joel quietly packed his things, started to make coffee, poured the coffee into two metal cups and approached to the girls, Ellie was turned to Y/N and hugging her, her head against Y/N’s chest, even though they were out in the middle of the forest and in a shit situation they seemed peaceful within each other, he knew that they had history together which made them even closer now days. He remembered the times where he would wake up and go to his daughter’s room to wake her up, before waking her up he would just stare at her beautiful face and couldn’t imagine a life without her… and now he had to take care of two girls. Bill was right in his letter to Joel, they were alive because they had a purpose, purpose to keep their loved ones safe and they didn’t have to know it. He cleared his throat to wake them up, Ellie didn’t care but Y/N shifted slightly, opened one of her eyes, ‘’Morning Joel.’’ She said with voice like honey, he had to look away to keep a straight face because he almost caught himself smile, ‘’Here.’’ He extended his hand to give her coffee, they both knew it tasted like shit but it made them wake up. She lifted herself up, and reached with both of her hands, ‘’Thank you.’’ This was their morning conversation, nothing more nothing less. Y/N knew that he had more to say but kept everything inside, like locked vault and only he had to key. Ellie woke up to the smell of coffee, ‘’Ew what the fuck is that?’’ she asked, ‘’You don’t like coffee?’’ Joel asked, almost in shock. Without a word she fell back to sleep, Joel was going to wake her up but Y/N stopped her with a gentle hand movement, ‘’Let her sleep for 5 more minutes, in the mean time I can help you.’’ Joel looked at Ellie’s peaceful face and then Y/N’s  and he only nodded.

She got up from the ground and took a large sip from the coffee, it woke her up immediately, and also the cold morning air did its work, he was organizing the back of the truck, ‘’You didn’t answer my question.’’ Joel started the conversation, the birds were singing their morning song and adding a nice undertone to the atmosphere around them, Y/N was confused, still holding the cup with both of her hands to keep the warmth, ‘’What answer?’’ she watched him manhandle the bags and boxes, it was a sight to sore eyes, ‘’That night, when  I broke down your door and-‘’ Y/N immediately cut him off, ‘’I don’t have a purpose anymore, well..’’ she thought better, ‘’I didn’t had one until that night, when I saw Ellie again. I had given up and you saved me. Thank you by the way, last few months were hard.’’ Joel lifted his head to look at her, his brown ones locked on her soft ones, before he could say anything he saw a mischievous smirk on her pretty lips, ‘’Since we’re talking about that night, tell me, why did you come to my flat that night?’’ she was leaning against the truck, coffee finished, arms crossed and smiling a dangerous smile, ‘’She is going to be the death of me.’’ He thought, ‘’Uhhh-‘’ and Ellie woke up, ‘’What are you two talking about?!’’ she literally screamed and Joel turned to face her, which meant the conversation ended.. till next time.

Ellie wanted to sit on the front so Y/N was at the back this time which she didn’t care, as long as Ellie was happy she was happy, Joel did an explanation about his brother and why they have to find him, ‘’I don’t blame you, if I knew any of my family was alive I would look for them too.’’ Y/N said which she didn’t mean it to be sad but it was sad, she had no one… until now, ‘’So you don’t know what happened to them?’’ Ellie asked, Y/N shrugged her shoulders, ‘’I was staying with my grandmother when it happened, the outbreak,’’ she didn’t want to give much detail but Joel’s comforting eyes checking her every once in a while gave her strength, ‘’because my parents were on a vacation in Europe, I’ve never heard from them again. The soldiers came to took us, my grandmother couldn’t take the stress and sadness so she passed away after a year, I’m on my own ever since.’’

When he heard the last sentence he just wanted to tell her that she wasn’t on her own, she had him and Ellie now but he stopped himself, too soon maybe.

Their car ride came to a stop after hours, there was a huge lorry blocking the way to the other side, ‘’Stay inside.’’ Joel said to them and left the car with his gun to check, they were in Kansas City right now, he checked the map again and took a new rout. Things were smooth until they weren’t, they were in an empty street when a injured man jumped in front of the truck turns out he wasn’t injured and it was an attack from the raiders. People on top of the buildings were shooting at the truck and Joel was driving so fast that he crashed the truck into an old shop, ‘’Are you okay?’’ he checked to see if they were injured, they were fine, Joel could see the fear in their eyes, raiders kept shooting at the cars, ‘’Belts off! Fast!’’ he yelled and they left the truck, there was a long and wide crack at the nearby wall, ‘’Go, I’ll cover you.’’ He said to Y/N, and she grabbed  Ellie by the shoulder, he was right he did cover for them and they climbed inside. Y/N could see that Ellie was panicking so she held her hands, ‘’Everything’s gonna be fine Ellie.’’ She reassured her, they could see Joel from the crack of the wall and he looked like he needed help, he was ambushed by a young man, and he was on top of Joel, chocking him, ‘’We have to do something.’’ Ellie said looking at her, ‘’How? I don’t have a weapon?!’’ Y/N cried in despair, Ellie, with shaking hands digged into her bag and pulled a gun she took from Bill and Franks, ‘’You weren’t suppose to-‘’ Ellie cut her off, ‘’Save him.’’

Y/N never had to shoot a guy or even a slap one across the face, never in her life she had to choose violence but right now she had to make a choice, whether leave Joel to his fate or do something.

She slide through that crack in the wall silently, hands shaking, she had to hold the gun with two hands, safety was off, she pointed the gun at the guy whose back was turned to her. With teary eyes she pulled the trigger, and the guy fell to Joel’s side, Joel was still on the ground trying to breath, his eyes met hers. She was still pointing the gun at the guy, ‘’No,no,no its okay please don’t shoot.’’ His back was bleeding, the guy on the floor kept mumbling about his legs not working and his mom but Y/N’s ears were ringing, she could literally hear her own blood pumping in her veins, Joel stood in front of her, blocking her view, he reached out to take the gun from her shaking hands, she felt the electricity from his touch, he turned to face the guy, still blocking her view, he was doing this for her own behalf. Clearly she was in shock, he was in shock too, seeing such a kind woman shooting someone to save him, his debt was paid. Now they were even, and he faced her, ‘’Get back behind the wall.’’ Her vision was blurry, she didn’t notice that Ellie was watching them, she was like a puppet, empty and following the orders, as soon as she went back Ellie hugged her and made her sat, they heard a thud, and the guy stopped crying. Since Joel couldn’t fit through the crack of the wall together they moved the stuff behind the door for him, he walked in, ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked them and saw Y/N wipe the tears on her flushed cheeks, ‘’Yes.’’ They both sang in harmony, they moved together.

Tag List;

@psychomanias

@stitchattacks

@anxiousbeech

@elmontsmile

@cheyxfu

Thank you for the support, see you on the next chapters! xxx

[laelior]

As someone who has never played the games, I'm finding plenty of things to like about HBO's adaptation of The Last of Us. My current favorite thing is grown-ass men freaking out because the show makes references to post-apocalyptic menstrual hygiene.

[johnadamsbignaturals]

obviously having a trained medical professional is incredibly important for a post-apocalyptic commune, but a lot of the modern solutions for issues in illness, injuries, and hygiene will indeed fall flat once certain resources run out.

things like modern shampoo 1.) will not last long and 2.) really aren’t always the best option for living in a world that’s bery different from our current reality. you’re going to need an herbalist who’se well acquainted with plants in the area as well as someone with a decent knowledge of historical remedies and methods of hygiene

[discocholforever]

I have a lot of thoughts on Harry possibly having the PDA profile of autism.

Follows his voices and only does things *he* chooses, struggles with everyday demands (hygiene is likely a big one if martinaise is anything to go by), hugely socially focused (loses morale + health + has shutdowns when people respond negatively to him/his actions), intense emotions, obsessions with people (Dora, Kim, probs Jean, etc), seeks comfort in fantasy and role play (copotypes, if you wanna get a lil meta his psyche is literally rigged like an RPG)… I could go on and on

Like oh man what if he told everyone from the 41st to fuck off and went on the apocalyptic bender in martinaise bc he had a meltdown from the mountain of stress and demands and emotional labour that keep breaking him down over and over again

[generic-whumperz]

“The Aid” (Character Sheet)

How it began /vs/ where we are now (Picrew)

Playlist | Vibes | Ability Breakdown | Masterlist | Character Info |

Overview: The morning after his 18th birthday, a Mystic telepathic empath sells himself into high-class slavery at a Chattel Services Inc. facility in order to help his family flee from a war-ravaged and disease-ridden post-apocalyptic world. Stripped of his name, he is addressed only by his newly appointed ID number and later his trained designation title—The Aid. He is quickly bought by Madame Eleanor Sullivan, a So-Cal socialite, and the prestigious Sullivan family matriarch, to serve her as her live-in caregiver and confidant. After her death five years later, The Aid is bequeathed to Eleanor’s troubled and sadistic son, Wyatt. Surviving a year and a half of Wyatt’s draconian rein as his new Master, The Aid’s once plentiful optimism runs out when Wyatt’s relentless torture has no end in sight. That is, until one fateful day, a bloody and badly wounded stranger is brought to him, reigniting his hope for escape.  

Full name: [REDACTED]

Role: Main lead protagonist (Caretaker turned Whumpee)

Date of Birth & sign: February 10, 2007 (25), Aquarius (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: *perpetually confused*

Height: 5’5”

Weight/body type/build: (when not being starved) slender with lean muscle, more on the petite side with compact features; ideally he likes being 135-ish lbs (currently 125lbs soaking wet)

Hometown: Cincinnati, Ohio

Family Members: [REDACTED]

Left/right handed: ambidextrous

Fav genre of music & anthem: alternative/indie, Devil's Advocate by The Neighbourhood

Occupation: slave; designation: Grand Servant, Mystic Domestic Home Aid (professional bitch)

Ethnicity (+ American): white boi (European origin— mostly British, Scottish, Polish, Norwegian, Swedish, and German)

Hair color & length: chocolate brown; (ideally) cropped short, longer on top, brushed to the side. Straight, but slightly wavy when grown out. Facial hair: ideally clean shaven and well-groomed elsewhere, doesn’t have much body hair, will shave it off regardless.

Hygiene: very clean and hygienic, hates being dirty and smelly, takes immense pride in his physical appearance. The kind of guy that has a 10-step skin routine and loves nothing more than new skin care products.

Eye color: chestnut brown. Large almond-shaped hooded eyes, wears glasses

Skin tone: very fair with blue/cool undertones

Facial features: combo of squared & rounded head, square jaw with strong & pointed chin, pointy lips with prominent Cupid’s bow & heavy lower lip, droopy & downturned nose (now with a jagged bend on the bridge from a few badly healed breaks), manicured straight brows with slight soft rounded arch, squared ears that stick out slightly

Mannerisms: internal dialogue/thoughts do not always match spoken words and actions. Confines most facial expression to his eyes which are constantly shifting around and observing surroundings. Small half-smiles that don't reach his eyes. Silent sighs a lot. Generally very still and goes unnoticed. Quiet, soft steps. Mild-mannered. Feels too much all of the time. On high alert. Small nods and head tilts. Lip/side of mouth twitches when thinking hard, confused, or on edge. Shifts jaw a lot.

Nervous ticks: flushes/blushes, rubs fingertips, picks at cuticles/skin picking, chews/sucks in bottom lip, avoids eyes contact & keeps head down, eyes dart, stiff body language, balls hands into fists, lip & cheek twitches, occasional nose rubbing

Posture: straight and proper (currently doing the best he can)

Style: Whatever Madame Eleanor dressed him in! Usually wearing his custom designer Aid uniform complete with a metal o-ring collar. When at home, usually just in lounge wear.

Health: Originally very healthy before all the torture started and was very active. Former high school track star. Now has chronic pain and is addicted to painkillers. Currently in physical therapy and can’t walk for extended periods of time. Vegetarian. Known allergies: shellfish, penicillin, pineapple, pollen, chamomile, nickel metal, dust. Mental health is in the gutter (on anti-psychotic, mood stabilizer, and neuron blocker to nullify his telepathic abilities), anxious, depressed, suffering from psychosis. Having a bad time. Now missing some teeth and has a chipped tooth from Wyatt beating him up.

Piercings/tattoos: ears pierced and has 24k gold ear cuff. One tattoo on upper left shoulder of his CSI given ID number: 070210

Birthmarks/scars: too many scars to count at this point. But noticeable ones on face: long, u-shaped cut spanning under right cheek, a vertical nic on the tip of chin, and a long faint slice across his left temple. 1.5” scar on right palm and top of hand that he usually keeps covered up/hidden from himself. Born with a bilateral cleft lip and now has two C-shaped scars running between the points of his lip and nostrils.

Language(s): English, some Spanish

Personality: before Wyatt—happy, warm and approachable, charming, compassionate, helpful, confident, obedient, subservient, well-mannered, thoughtful, self-sacrificing people-pleaser. With Wyatt—combative, snappy & short, paranoid, jumpy, nervous, closed off and cold, angsty, vengeful, hopeless, depressive.

Vices: weed, panic cleans

Voice: measured, even tone, modulated and silvery. Typical North American accent.

Smells like: clean, zesty and sweet, like aloe, cactus flower, with a hint of citrus.

Face claim(s): I have been going back and forth with this forever. No one will quite look exactly like him, but I’ve finally concluded, after much deliberation, that he looks a combination of Iwan Rheon (left and top middle) and this random Russian guy I found on Pinterest, Arseniy Popov (bottom middle & right). However, both of them are a bit older than he is, so just 🌈imagine🌈 them aged down a little bit. Also, yes, it’s more than ironic that the guy who plays one of Wyatt’s character inspirations, Ramsy fucking Bolton, is also an Aid face claim. Full circle moment or cosmic horror? You decide.

This pic is slay and serving cunt (judging plebs with Eleanor)

Character inspiration: personality and ability-wise only—Deanna Troi (Star Trek TNG), June Osborne (Handmaid’s Tale), Peta Mellark (Hunger Games), Will Graham (NBC Hannibal)

Other: has two trackers, one embedded in his back between shoulder blades, the other in the back of his neck.

Character sheet filled out from his POV, post-Wyatt

[nimble-stuff]

XVI. Emotion Control || Donnie Donnie experiences nightmares after the Krang invasion, and deals with it in a way that may not be considered healthy.

Fandom: ROTTMNT

Also on AO3

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@badthingshappenbingo​

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Donnie had never remembered his dreams before. In the strange times before the Krang, a dreamless void overtook his sleep, compressed on all sides by soothing darkness, and he remembered no dreams his brain come up with.

There wasn’t a scientific term to define it, but whatever it was, Donnie had experienced dreamless sleep for as long as he could remember. In his childhood, he’d had the usual array of nightmares and wistful dreams that then faded as he got older, and then stopped altogether. He chalked most of it up to horrible sleep hygiene. On off-days when he and his brothers weren’t goofing around, he either slept twelve hours straight or not at all, ruining his sleep schedule on a biweekly basis, and any chance to reach any meaningful stage of sleep where he dreamt.

But the Krang changed everything, made the planet spin in the opposite direction, and Donnie always realized too late that he was in a nightmare until he was sweating, gasping for air, and saw the glow-in-the-dark stars painted on his bedroom ceiling wink down at him.

His legs were tangled in bedsheets and his heart raced, and he remembered every detail of the nightmare. It was of the prison dimension. Of Leo’s broken body floating—listless, lifeless—and Donnie reached his upper body through Mikey’s portal before it closed and bisected him in half. Something that should’ve killed him, didn’t in the dream world; he could look down and see his intestines and organs floating in the gravity well, and he watched as the Krang took hold of Leo and gored out his eyes. Donnie woke up frozen in bed.

His mind seemed to find new and creative ways to make him watch his brothers suffer. Yet the dream had been tame.

At least, it was tame, compared to the one where he was in the could-have-been future where the Krang took over. Casey didn’t like to talk about the future, but Donnie overheard him talking to Leo once, telling him about how Mikey turned to ash to send him to the past. Maybe that was where the dream came from, the nightmare where he was in an apocalyptic wasteland and he watched Mikey burning alive, his limbs shrivelling up, his hands curling in a pugilistic stance in the moments before the Krang speared his body and put it on display.

Donnie turned over in bed again. The sheet twisted and strangled his legs.

He kept telling himself, the nightmare had been tame. Yes, the prison dimension one was bad, and so was the one where Mikey burnt alive. They were tame.

Tame compared to the dream where the Krang puppeted Raph around, and Leo couldn’t talk him out of fratricide. In that one, Raph tortured them each, one-by-one, and Donnie was always the last. The torture changed each time, but the last time he’d had it, he’d heard Leo’s scream in his head as Raph beat him until his brain matter splattered on the ground. Then it was Mikey’s turn, and Donnie couldn’t look away as Raph pulled out each of Mikey’s vertebrae one-by-one, and no, it shouldn’t have been possible to survive that, but in the dream world Mikey did and he screamed and screamed and screamed and he just wouldn’t die.

While Leo and Mikey’s corpses were being assimilated by the Krang, Raph would turn to Donnie, and instead of torturing him, he fed him to the Technodrome, and the empowering sensation of being a spaceship devoured him, a sensation that made him feel good just after watching his brothers’ murder. He felt metallic teeth chew his body up.

Donnie had puked the last time he’d had that nightmare. He still had an empty bucket under his bed so he could spare his floor when it inevitably came back. He should be grateful that he hadn’t had that one. Not tonight, anyway. The nightmare about the prison dimension was tame.

He turned over in bed again. He was shaking and a tight knot twisted between his shoulder blades.

Okay. No more sleep.

The lair was silent when he went to the kitchen, but Leo was up like usual. He’d always been a light sleeper and that small, easily ignored trait seemed to have amplified since the invasion over a month ago. Donnie wondered if he was having nightmares too.

Leo sat at the table, glued to his phone and drinking a milkshake. Donnie didn't know why someone would drink a milkshake in the morning. Still, Leo found a reason.

“Hey, Casey just texted from Egypt,” said Leo. “He says the pyramids are cool but everyone keeps trying to sell him tourist garbage and camel rides.”

Donnie squinted at Leo. Why the hell they let Casey take a world tour without supervision was beyond him. It seemed ill-advised. All the same, he made his usual beeline for the coffeepot.

“Climbing the pyramids is illegal, right?”

“Indeed it is,” said Donnie. “He could face up to three years in prison.”

“I’m gonna tell him to do it.”

“You want him to get arrested?”

“Psh, Casey can look after himself. I’m sure he’ll be able to escape across the border before they catch him.”

“I won’t help rescue him if he ends up in prison.”

“Spoilsport. Could you at least make some fake passports?”

“…Mayhaps.”

Leo just grinned at his phone as he tap-tap-tapped away his horrible suggestions to Casey. His toothy smile was so wide and it overtook the entire lower half of his face.

Something seized inside Donnie’s chest and it took a great amount of effort to keep it where it belonged, to not make a noise, to not show it on his face. It was an image from the prison dimension dream, one forgotten until Leo grinned.

It was of the Krang worming its appendages into Leo’s mouth and pulling his teeth out one-by-one.

Losing teeth was a common nightmare. Donnie knew it intellectually. What wasn’t normal was being able to see the frayed nerve endings on Leo’s gums, of watching his scream while the Krang mutilated his face.

Something uncontrolled and sharp stabbed into his abdomen and, not wanting to double over in agony right in front of Leo, he pressed it flat against the counter. The sensation vaulted from his abdomen to his chest. Sparks and bands of colour overlayed his vision.

Some noise—a gasp, a breath, a small cry, maybe all three—must’ve passed his lips, because the tap-tap-tap of Leo’s phone paused.

“Is the coffee too hot?” Leo asked.

Donnie hadn’t even finished making it. He tried to speak but his mouth felt swollen.

“…Donnie?”

“Oh, darn, this is decaf,” Donnie finally said with an exaggerated drawl to hide the uncontrollable shake on its way out of his body. “Well, I’ll have to throw out the whole pot.”

Donnie picked up the coffeepot and tossed it into the garbage.

“Uh…you could rinse it out?” Leo suggested.

“No, no, it’s contaminated. I’ll just make a new pot.”

“Don't make one that wants to take over the world again.”

“That was one time.”

“Mikey swears that every time he hears ‘coffee,’ his knee swells up.”

“It was a sprain, not a break, and besides, it won’t happen again. I’ll just leave out the AI chip this time.”

It was enough to leave the kitchen. All of a sudden, Donnie just wanted the coiling, comforting, dreamless darkness that disappeared the moment Casey uttered the word ‘Krang.’

Donnie was so busy keeping his breathing under control that he slammed right into Raph on his way out of the kitchen. He startled back.

“Wow, you are up early,” Raph said. “What’s the rush? Leo’s not making coffee puns again, is he?”

Donnie thought he could handle looking at Raph, but that assumption corrected himself when he saw the milky film over Raph’s right eye that made his stomach curl. It looked unseeingly into him. The torture nightmare wiggled in his brain.

“Hey, you just went two shades paler. Everything okay?”

“Affirmative, everything is hunky-dory, excuse me, I have to leave,” Donnie said.

He circled around Raph and bolted for his room, slamming the door shut before his legs folded underneath him. Donnie hit the floor harder than intended, his arms lacking the strength to cushion his fall. Were his arms even there? He couldn’t feel them. A high-pitched ringing screeched overhead. Dizziness overcame him, made the floor swim, made him feel like his room was being pushed onto its side. Then, he realized with a sharp, lancing terror that it was just him. In his head.

Agonizing anxiety blurred his senses together. Everything felt like too-much and too-little at the same time. Something was taking him out of his body. He was insane. He’d cracked. Because of a fucking nightmare. Painful breaths shivered through his chest. Suddenly, he was clawing around on the floor like an animal, and he seized the leg of the nearest table and held tight, squeezing his eyes shut so hard that he saw indistinct patches of light. Donnie tried to take deep breaths. It was impossible. His throat swelled up. He was going insane, he was losing his mind, some mystical something-or-other was ripping him apart.

Donnie couldn’t be sure if he passed out or not. Maybe he went catatonic or maybe the world stopped existing for a while, like a stuttering VHS tape. But after a long nothing, the room slowed. Slower. Then it stopped. It became still.

His hands wound tight around the table leg.

His body spread out on the floor.

Drool and tears puddled around his head.

Donnie released of the table leg, trembling, and sat up. There was a gnawing in his stomach that didn’t feel like nausea or hunger. It was a sense of being unsettled.

He’d seen his brothers have panic attacks since the Krang invasion. Heck, he’d even seen Splinter with a far-off, fearful stare once or twice. But so far, Donnie avoided such instances of uncontrolled emotion. He kept it together. Kept the sense of offness confined to his nightmares, to the comfort of his bed, behind a closed door.

A panic attack. He’d had a panic attack over a fucking nightmare, over just looking at Raph.

Shame ran powerful through him. Donnie didn’t cry—he refused to do that. When his eyes felt wet, he sucked in a breath, scrubbed at them with the back of his hand, and dug his nails into his palm until the pain distracted him enough.

Donnie crawled over to his chair. His limbs weren’t cooperating. They shook and trembled and jerked out around him. The strength it took just to climb into his seat was nonexistent. Then, he was seated and he took a few minutes to get his breathing under control.

He was fine. Everything was fine, the Krang invasion was over.

But the future still stretched before them like an endless nightmare that could go in any direction.

Donnie held his face in his hands. He wanted to make a coffeepot and forget this had happened.

There was a knock on his door. Donnie rolled over to his workstation and pulled out a hunk of metal he could pretend was the coffeepot he was trying to make, and to disguise his bloodshot eyes, he flipped down his goggles.

“Enter!” Donnie called.

Mikey sprang inside. “Donnie, you’re not gonna believe this!”

“I don’t believe it.”

“SEE?! I knew you wouldn’t!”

“I thrive on predictability. What is it that I am not believing again?”

“The Battle Nexus is having a grand reopening deal. All food and drinks, free for tonight only! We HAVE to go! I hear Big Mama has some new champions after a few of them got eaten by the Krang and I want to see them in action.”

“Natural selection at work. Alright, I am in.”

Mikey cheered and somersaulted out of the room, screaming the news at Raph and Leo.

Donnie set down the tool and lifted his goggles.

No panic attack.

No cinching sensation.

No fear.

Mikey came in and they talked and he left and there were no theatrics, no reeling on the ground, no drama.

Donnie waited a few minutes just in case. Nevertheless, nothing. His heart rate was normal and he was cognizant of his surroundings without the sensations being overwhelming. He looked at his steady hands.

He hadn’t looked at Mikey, though. He’d pretended to be wholly interested in the hunk of metal in front of him. Maybe that was the key.

Eye contact was…an optional part of social interaction, right?

-

Donnie had a lot of hang-ups. Eye contact was never one of them.

When they were kids, he got chastised for staring too much, for long, analytical stares that made five-year-old Leo throw things at him when he didn’t blink. Donnie learned over time to break eye contact once in a while, but this? This was overdoing it.

Fortunately, spectating at the Battle Nexus gave plenty of reason to not look at his brothers, stalling the inevitable conversation plowing towards him at an unstoppable speed. They were too busy watching the two yōkai beating each other into a pulp in the arena: a bear and a chameleon with camouflage abilities. Ever since the Krang invasion, their usual rogue’s gallery of villains was quiet: recovering or rebuilding or wrapped up in their own nonsense to cause a stir. So far all was quiet, and he and his brothers were buried under piles of snacks and no one had tried to shoot, stab, or squish them yet.

No one had his new no-eye-contact policy yet. He intended to keep it that way for as long as possible, and yet it wasn’t a viable option in the long run. What about family dinners? What about info dumping? This was his family for crying out loud.

Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to worry about eye contact or nightmares or the Krang. He smashed a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Where did Big Mama find these losers?” Leo asked. The bear had been trying to get a hold of the chameleon, however the chameleon slipped away each time. “FINISH HIM! Don’t just play with your food!”

“I’m kinda rooting for chameleon guy to be honest,” said Raph.

“He can’t hide forever. Sooner or later, the bear’s gonna get him.”

“He can just wait out the timer.”

“Chameleon can’t win if he doesn’t land a finishing blow; it’ll just end in a draw.”

“I think he’s waiting until the last minute to do some real damage,” said Mikey. “That way, he doesn’t exert all his energy and attacks early and risk getting hurt.”

“Well, he’s got three minutes,” said Donnie. “If Chameleon wants to attack, now’s the time to do it.”

“And if the bear doesn’t kill him, this audience might,” Mikey pointed out.

Mikey was far from wrong. The crowd was restless with a roaring rumble that moved through them. If there wasn’t bloodshed in the Battle Nexus, they wanted no part of it.

The collective energy seemed to be shared by the organizers, because the speakers flicked on with a low screech and boomed over their heads.

“On request of Big Mama, release the hounds!” The voice screamed.

The audience went wild. The bear whipped around, confused. Then, a gate opened and the arena erupted in action.

Neither the bear nor the chameleon stood a chance against the fifteen-foot long mutated hounds that rampaged into the arena. The hounds locked onto the place where the chameleon was hiding, then sank their teeth into his spine, destroying his camouflage as he howled in agony. The bear threw off two before a pack descended on him, and Donnie’s vision faded out.

There was another nightmare he had, not as often as the others, but often enough. Dreams about the humans the Krang assimilated and turned into horrible four-legged monsters that swarmed through the New York streets. In the dream, he and his brothers were fighting them until they caught up. Horrible pain radiated through Donnie’s limbs as they contorted and elongated, and when he looked down, he’d become one of the monsters. His body moved of its own accord, his bones shattered underneath, and it was an existence of agony as walked on his own broken limbs—

Okay. Stay calm. Donnie looked away from the stadium and passed his popcorn to Leo.

“Where you going?” Leo asked.

“Bathroom,” he said.

“You’re gonna miss the best part!”

“Well, I drank like five sodas.”

“Okay, but I’m not telling you how it ends.”

Donnie didn’t need to know. The screams of the bear and the chameleon echoed loud over the crowd’s cheer.

Donnie left, trying to control his movements. Everything seemed very distant and he ran into a couple of yōkai in his hurry to make himself scarce. The public washroom was a dank and filthy place, but honestly no less horrible than the washroom at home, and Donnie hid himself in a stall.

Donnie had to hold his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any sort of noise. Sickening dread punched into his gut. He plunged into the vacuum of space. All air sucked out of the room. No oxygen. No breathing. Leo floating dead among space debris. Mikey turning to cinders. Raph torturing them one-by-one. Repeat. Again. Never-ending. Donnie’s stomach lurched.

Pathetic, he was so pathetic. He was having a panic attack in a disgusting toilet stall. There was black mold in the tiles and someone had definitely not flushed before he came in there, and he should recoil, and he didn’t want to think about the last time someone had cleaned, but he couldn’t care, didn’t care. The rancid smell of the bathroom hit him, and he gagged.

Donnie took a steadying breath. He shouldn’t have had that strong a reaction to the arena; he’d seen worse at the Battle Nexus, they all had. Fear gutted him. It never occurred to him that anything, at any time, under any circumstance, could trigger the next panic attack, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He couldn’t go on like this. He wouldn’t be able to go back into the Battle Nexus and sit next to Leo without him sensing something was up, no way was he going to talk his feelings out. No way his life would be normal again.

Raph always said he had his best ideas while sitting on the toilet, which was horrible knowledge to have on so many levels, but maybe there was something to the bathroom that stimulated the mind. He just had to stay clam and think.

“Kevin, what the HELL are you doing?!” a voice screamed through the bathroom.

“I’m SORRY!” The yōkai in the next stall over—Kevin—answered. “It’s not my fault! I need, like, ten more minutes.”

“We’re missing all the carnage! I told you to lay off the Mystic Munchies!”

“They made them too good. I absolve myself of all responsibility.”

“God DAMMIT, Kevin! If you’re so determined to eat that crap, why don’t you ask the witches in Witch Town for a spell to avoid this?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because spells fix everything, you idiot.”

Spells fix everything.

Spells fix everything.

Donnie disliked mysticism, even if he incorporated it into his tech these days. Even then, most of his mystic abilities would be nothing without his tech knowledge.

But he was desperate, and the mind was a fallible, imperfect organ with complicated pathways. Sure, he could develop the technology to suppress…whatever was going on with him, but it would take months of development, and he didn’t know if he would last that long. Mysticism offered an immediate solution to an immediate problem.

Donnie burst out of the stall. “EUREKA!”

He bolted past Kevin’s companion waiting in the doorway, who looked at him flabbergasted.

“Hey, kid, you forgot to flush the toilet!” Kevin’s companion called. “Ah, man, that’s disgusting! Teenagers! Why is it always teenagers?!”

Donnie didn’t stick around to look at the literal bomb they blamed him for. After all, there was probably a spell to fix that too.

-

Even though he and April were banned from Witch Town and there were wanted posters baring their faces on the entrance gates, Donnie was wearing his preferred hoodie, and he was also a ninja. In the wake of the Krang invasion, the Hidden City had taken a lot of damage. The Krang had shown a particular interest in the yōkai culture underneath New York, burrowing their abominations deep into the earth to reach it and cause as much destruction as possible before he and his brothers stopped them.

When he passed into Witch Town, not only did no one bother him, but they were too busy to question his identity. The witches were reconstructing the damaged neighbourhood, and one very banned, lone turtle wasn’t enough to even get them to raise their heads.

He found Gentry working on an earthworm garden in the community garden, ignoring him as he sidled up to where she was. He waited a moment. Then, she seemed to sense she was being watched and her head lifted.

“Oh, Gentry, lovely to see you again, of course you may help me with something,” said Donnie. “Always happy to let mystics have the great honour of working for the finest mind of this generation. You’re not unionized, are you?”

“What?” Gentry frowned. “Oh, it’s—wait, aren’t you banned?”

“Rumours of my banishment are highly exaggerated. More importantly, since you’re so insistent, there is something you can do for me.”

“Um, what are you—”

“I’m gathering some preliminary data for a study I’m conducting that involves mysticism, specifically how horrible it is compared to modern science—”

“Aare you on this again—”

“—and to complete this study, I’m going to need to collect some information on some mystical spelly thingys. You do know what spells are, yes?”

“What are you doing? You’re gonna get me in trouble if I’m seen with you! The Mayor made me scrub potion bottles for weeks after you and April were last here.”

“A tragic misunderstanding, but that’s all under the rug. I just need to ask some basic questions and I can be on my way.”

“Why do you care about mysticism? You didn’t before.”

“And I continue to not care. As I said, I’m conducting a study.”

“If I answer your questions, will you go away?”

“Depends on how satisfied I am with your responses.”

“Oh my God, fine! Just ask.”

“Good, good, so tell me, do you have any mystic spells that influence dreams and sleep quality?”

“Um, yeah, there’s a lot of demand for sleeping spells and potions, especially since those aliens came around. It’s not my area of expertise though.”

“Yes, I remember, you were into…worms.”

“I wasn’t just into worms, that was for the—forget it, you won’t listen, anyway. Sleeping spells are kind of finicky. Perform them wrong and they can have some pretty gnarly side effects, so we leave them to the professionals.”

“…So you’re admitting you’re incompetent?”

“I’m this close to turning you into a toad.”

“Is that a literal threat or a metaphorical one?”

“Use your imagination.”

“Very well, moving on. So if I was to tell you I required the use of a spell like that, would you direct me to a ‘professional?’”

Gentry paused, holding a handful of dirt and wiggling worms, her left ear twitching. She looked over her shoulder and grinned.

“…What?”

“You want the help of a witch, don’t you?” she asked.

“I do not! I am conducting a study.”

“What, are sleeping pills not enough for you so you gotta resort to the inferior version? Oh, man, I’m gonna have to text April about this. Mr Tech-Is-Better has come crawling to Witch Town for help—”

Gentry’s phone appeared and Donnie panic-slapped it out of her hand.

“Do NOT tell April about this!” he demanded.

“Why?” Gentry laughed. “Afraid she’ll rub it in your face?”

“You haven’t known April for as long as I have. If she finds out, she’ll lord it over me for the rest of my natural existence. I insist you keep this between us.”

“Just don’t touch my phone again.” Gentry picked it off the ground. The fall had cracked the screen, however with a wave of her finger, it knitted itself back together. “Look, if you want some kind of sleeping spell or something, you’re not gonna get it from the witches in this town while you’re banned.”

“Not all mystics live here.”

“True. I mean, I guess you could talk to Uzume, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Who’s Uzume?”

“She’s a witch who specializes in dream and sleep, but she got banned ages ago. She runs a potion shop down in the Old Quarter. I really wouldn’t talk to her if I were you; I think you should just talk to the Mayor and try to get your ban lifted if you’re determined to see a witch, or you could get one of those cheap spells from a shop outside of Witch Town. They’re not good quality, but they get the job done.”

“I’m not looking for cheap spells, one does not skimp on quality. Why was Uzume banned? Does she, too, believe in the superiority of machine over mysticism?”

“Uzume was experimenting with dream spells on folk without their explicit permission, which is kind of a big deal around here.”

“Alright. Well, that doesn’t concern me, so I suppose I’m off to see her.”

“I’m serious, Donnie. You should just talk to the Mayor about your ban.”

“Why tell me about Uzume if you wouldn’t recommend her?”

“She just came to my head! I didn’t think you were this serious about it.”

“Well, I am.”

Gentry squinted at him. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just be careful about Uzume. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her, but she’s a little eccentric.”

“Noted. Fare thee well!”

On his way out, he ‘accidentally’ slapped Gentry’s phone out of her hand a second time, sending her into a litany of swears and threats which he ran away from before she could enact any of them.

-

Finding Uzume’s shop took far longer than Donnie expected. He knew his way around the Hidden City well enough by now, but Uzume resided in dark, scarcely trodden recesses, down a set of cobblestone staircases, down a few alleys, and tucked into a corner lit by nothing more than a lamp lit by a firefly. It took hours. And by that time, Donnie’s absence hadn’t gone unnoticed and Leo bombarded with texts.

HELLO??? WHERE DID U GO??? I went to find you in the bathroom and all I found was some guy named Kevin cryin bout how good mystic munchies are! Did you go out to find some or something???

Donnie ignored him.

At least, he ignored him until Leo texted not five minutes later, DON’T LEAVE ME ON READ!!! ANSWER??? Did you ditch us for some other, more handsome brothers???? WHO AREE THEY DONNIE???!

Donnie sighed. He was standing outside Uzume’s door, working up the courage to go in, and he didn’t have time for Leo’s theatrics.

Mikey tried next. I think you’re giving Leo an anurism…

Well, he could ignore Leo. He wouldn’t ignore Mikey in good conscience. It’s spelt ‘aneurysm.’

...srsly tho where did u go??

I was bored.

So you left without telling anyone?

Exactamundo.

Where r u now?

I’m home, in my lab, doing some science.

We got home like, 15 minutes ago and u aren’t here….

Then my invisibility cloaking device finally worked!

OMG…DONNIE…YOU HAVE TO LET ME TRY IT!

I have to take it out of beta first. Now if you excuse me, I need to run some additional field tests. Do not bother looking for me, I assure you, I will reappear once I am done.

He put his phone on silent and shoved it into his hoodie. Well, now he was going to have to develop an invisibility cloak to take his brothers off his scent, but he felt proud of himself for the lie. It was easier to fib over texting than it was face-to-face.

Donnie took a few final breaths. Okay, he could do this. It was just a mystic shop; it’s not like he’d never been in one of those before.

The minute tinkle of a bell rang overhead when he stepped inside, and upon passing the threshold, the overpowering smell of lavender struck Donnie. An array of glowing potions and containers holding various ingredients cramped and bordered the shop on either side, from newt eyes to oni horns to the toenail clippings of a dragon. Donnie regarded everything with his healthy amount of suspicion: if he could just run some tests, he was sure he could disprove most of the ingredients as fake. The placebo effect had to apply for mysticism as well as science.

When he reached the counter, he wasn’t even aware of being watched, not until he turned a little and he saw what at first he thought was a gaudy figure of a bat hanging from the ceiling.

Then, the bat’s eyes moved.

Donnie swallowed his gasp. He knew there was a type of fruit bat with a wingspan that could reach up to six feet long, but when the yōkai in front of him flared out her massive, dark brown wings, they were twice that size. Her alert, beady black eyes locked onto him, ears twitching in interest. Faint markings, like ensaring vines, stretched across the leathery expanse of her wings and glowed in the dim lighting.

“You’re not a yōkai,” she said. Uzume possessed a creaking voice, like the branches of a dead tree on the verge of breaking.

Uzume curled her body forwards until they were almost nose-to-nose. He held ground.

“You’re one of those mutant turtles everyone whispers about.”

“Are you Uzume?” Donnie asked.

“I am she.”

“Good, then you’re exactly who you’re looking for. My name is Donatello and you’re going to help me.”

“My, aren’t we demanding?”

“A witch from Witch Town suggested I meet you,” said Donnie. “I need assistance with a…” How to describe it? Sleeping problems? Unresolved trauma? “…I need a spell.”

“I have many of those. Perhaps one of my potions may help you.”

Donnie looked at the many flasks lining the walls, untrusting. “I need a mystical something that can…that can stop dreaming altogether.”

“…I see. Come, come—let’s see what we’re working with.”

Uzume shuffled forward, not by landing on the ground and walking, but by vaulting from rafter to rafter with her clawed feet. There were many scratch marks crisscrossing the rafters, giving it the appearance of a spider’s web, and he couldn’t help but feel he was an insect walking right into her trap. The alternative scared him, however. The sleepless nights. The endless fear. Jumping at small noises, not looking at his brothers—that was so much worse. Donnie followed her behind the counter and through a curtain leading into a back room.

The lavender smell chased him inside. The backroom was lit with nothing brighter than a few candles, and in the centre was an antique couch and chair. Uzume gestured to the couch.

No, it was a trap. This wasn’t right. Something was off-putting and Donnie reached for his bō, and then, just as sudden, an overwhelming urge to sit flowed through him and the couch was far more inviting than he knew it should be. He sat down.

“Comfortable?” Uzume asked. Donnie blinked and he was sitting on the couch.

“Well, this place has some serious haunted house vibes, and not in a fun way, either,” said Donnie. “Why do I get the feeling that I walked right into a trap?”

“I’m simply asking if you are comfortable.”

“Yeah, this is creepy. I think I’ll leave.”

“No, please stay. I’m curious what brought you to me.”

Donnie tried to stand. He really did. But he couldn’t.

Uzume pushed forward some tea on a plate. Donnie opened his mouth to refuse it, but then his arm was moving and he took a sip, and it tasted wonderful. And throughout the conversation that happened, throughout it all, Donnie’s mind increasingly went foggy, and the lavender smell went from overpowering to all that there was, and his tongue loosened whenever he willed it to not move at all.

“Now, why do you want to stop dreaming?” Uzume asked.

“I didn’t say it was for me,” said Donnie.

“But it is for you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been having nightmares ever since the Krang invasion.”

“Tell me about them.”

Donnie blinked. “Wait. Wait, no, I’m not going to tell you that. I just need a spell and it’s not really any of your business what it’s for.”

“Donatello, I can tell you have a weight on your soul, something you feel you cannot tell anyone.”

Donnie’s chest felt heavy like an invisible, ancient hand was squeezing his ribcage. He swayed on the couch, eyes squeezing shut. This…wasn’t right. He needed to leave.

Then, the sudden, panicked anguish he got whenever he had a nightmare smoothed out. He looked at Uzume and felt like he could tell her anything. Her eyes were black, but they were caring, and curious.

So, he told her.

-

They talked for hours.

It must’ve been hours.

Donnie couldn’t tell. There was a cuckoo clock on the wall, and after the third chime, he lost count. The room felt isolating, and there was nothing else except him and Uzume, the bat with the kind eyes who refilled the tea every time Donnie got through a cup, and burnt more lavender incense when it burned too low.

He told her about the invasion, about how Casey came from the future, how Raph had been overtaken, about their fight against the Krang, about the nightmares that followed. How during the first week after the invasion, Leo would scream in agony every time they changed the dressings on his wounds and Mikey’s hands were scarred and he had to announce his presence whenever he approached Raph from the right side to avoid startling him. How every time he fell asleep, nightmares consumed him, and his existence was an unceasing panic attack waiting to happen and it was too much, too much, too much. Donnie told her about the wild terror he had for the future, that one day a nightmare would reality.

Uzume listened to it all, quiet and without judgment. Donnie felt inexorably calm, which he knew…wasn’t quite right? He wanted to roll on the floor in anguish at telling a whole ass stranger about the ordeal. He couldn’t talk to his brothers about this, so why was he spilling his heart out to someone he’d just met?

When he finished, Uzume stared for long enough that it was uncomfortable, but just when Donnie thought about how awkward it was, the soothing calmness overtook him again.

“You poor thing,” said Uzume. “Well, you are in luck. A dreamless sleep is easily achieved through potions…”

“Yes, that’s what I want!”

“…But it would not be a perfect solution. You would have to take a potion daily for the rest of your life and it would not help with your distress.”

Donnie blinked slow. Words passed sweetly through Uzume’s lips, past the yellow fangs protruding from both corners of her mouth.

“Perhaps we can suppress the dreams, but it would not heal the root cause of the problem. You will still experience the panic attacks and anxiety during your waking hours even if the dreams were suppressed. The nightmares are a symptom. We need to treat the disease.”

“I…yes, that’s logical. However, I feel like…” What was he feeling? “I’m experiencing a disease of the mind.”

Uzume smiled. “It is a complicated subject. However, I can help you.”

“How?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have to worry about emotions?”

Uzume transferred herself from the chair to by him on the couch.

“I propose we suppress them a little,” said Uzume. “Numb them, like an anesthetic for a mind.”

“Is that…Is that what you’re doing to me now?”

“Oh, you noticed that? Yes, I apologize, I tend to have that effect on people. What I’m proposing is a little more…aggressive.”

“Subjecting myself to mystic powers I don’t fully understand seems like a terrible idea. I mean, it’s one thing to self-experiment with the power of science, but mysticism?”

“Wouldn’t it better than having those dreadful nightmares again and again? And…I can promise that once we have a few sessions, the effects will be permanent. Imagine going through your life unbothered by extreme emotions. Not bothered by nightmares.”

“I’m…I’m not sure…I mean, I don’t enjoy feeling…”

“Nobody does.”

“…But I also feel as though emotions have…it has an effect, on the brain, and on relationships…”

“But you don’t enjoy it.”

Dread overpowered Donnie. A terrible dread that the next time he went to sleep, he’d see the nightmares, that in the future, the Krang would come back for revenge, that he would fall to pieces when his brothers needed his mind and his inventions the most.

He would do anything. Anything. Not to see another nightmare of his brothers getting tortured.

Not to see that nightmare become reality.

Not to worry about the bad future.

To look at his brothers when they were talking.

Donnie realized how terrified he was of not looking them in the eye again, and when he did, to only see the horrible, horrible things he imagined could happen.

He tilted his head at Uzume. “You said…you could make it permanent?”

She smiled broad, and after that, everything faded.

-

To say he felt better when he returned home a few hours later wasn’t quite the right word. All he knew was that there had been a fog clouding over the world ever since the Krang invasion, and whatever Uzume had done cleared it. Donnie felt aware, yet not overwhelmed. Before, he’d stared into a murky pond with a surface churning brown from the silt on the riverbed, and now the silt had settled and he could see fish flitting underneath the surface. Everything seemed so straightforward that he wondered why he’d kicked up a fuss before.

Donnie stumbled upon Splinter snoozing in his usual chair, the television on in front of him. How Splinter didn’t have a heart condition with all the junk food and lazing about he did was a miracle. It occurred to Donnie that it might be in the family’s best interest if Splinter stayed alive, so he gave his sleeping father a scan with his tech-gauntlet. Somehow, the only thing wrong with Splinter was slightly high blood pressure—not enough to be concerning yet, but a potential problem in the future. He wondered if he could sneak pills into his food.

“Hey, there you are!”

Donnie looked up and, of course, it was Mikey. Well, it was an apt opportunity to test the results of Uzume’s treatment. He made eye contact.

The satisfaction he felt was only a minor, dull sensation that evened out. He could look right at Mikey. The nightmares he’d been worried about seemed  so silly. It wasn’t reality. Mikey was right in front of him, perfect and whole.

“How’d the testing go?” Mikey asked.

“What testing?” Donnie asked.

“The testing for the invisibility cloak.”

“Oh, I lied about that. There is no invisibility cloak, I just wanted you all to leave me alone.”

“Huh?! Donnie…you can’t do this to me. You ditched us at the Battle Nexus and now you’re telling me that the invisibility cloak isn’t real?!”

“Yes. Would you like me to write that down so you don’t forget it?”

“I am trying to sleep here,” said Splinter.

“I think you may have a better quality sleep if you sleep in bed,” Donnie suggested.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Dad, Donnie ditched us at the Battle Nexus and lied about the existence of an invisibility cloak!” Mikey whined. “That’s two crimes in one day!”

“Neither of those are crimes,” said Donnie.

“They’re crimes against family, those are the worst!”

“Again, neither of those are prosecutable crimes.”

“Dad, do something!”

“I don’t understand why you’re complaining to Dad, since he has a record of not doing anything.”

“That’s not true!” Splinter protested. “I am training you boys, am I not?”

“Funny how that only started once world-ending circumstances appeared in our lives. You’re only a parent and a teacher when it’s convenient.”

Donnie turned and went to his lab.

“Purple, get back here so I can lecture you!” Splinter shouted.

“I’m a bit busy right now. I’ll let you know when I have time.”

Back in the familiarity of his lab, Donnie found the coffeepot he’d been working on. What a waste of his time. He dumped it in a pile to dismantle later.

A shadow darkened his door. He looked over his shoulder at Mikey.

“What was all that?” Mikey asked.

“Elaborate.”

“Why’d you rip into Dad like that?”

“I only said what we’re all thinking.”

“Dad’s really been trying lately. I thought you wanted Dad’s approval, not to tear him a new one.”

“I’m not going to waste time on something too broken to be fixed.”

Mikey’s eyes widened. He blinked twice, long and slow.

“…What’s…wrong with you?” said Mikey. “Something’s different about you.”

“That’s a rather hasty judgment to make based on one point five conversations. Do you have any evidence to back up your conclusion?”

“I can just feel it.”

“Feelings are imprecise. Try logic sometime, I think you’ll find it more exact. Are we done here? Good.”

Donnie pushed Mikey out through the doorway and out of the room, shutting the door in his face.

-

All three nightmares occurred that night, and even some that were new, each just a gruesome and horrible as the last. In a variation of torture dream, he was already the Technodrome when his brothers were captured, and instead of Raph doing the torturing, it was Donnie, slicing bit-by-bit into their bodies until there was nothing left for the Krang to puppet. In the next, he was standing on the sidelines while they scalped April in the streets, and he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do anything about it.

He slept soundly through all of them.

When Donnie woke up, he felt rested. He’d hooked his vital signs up to his tech-gauntlet before falling asleep, and when he checked the logs, he discovered that they’d remained consistent throughout all the nightmares. It wasn’t joy he felt when he saw the results, though this was the result he’d wanted.

His emotions didn’t come in overwhelming waves anymore. He could have meals with his family and didn’t even need coffee to keep himself awake. Donnie looked at his brothers while they were talking, but didn’t waste time on Splinter, and when April texted asking him for the details about the Battle Nexus outing, he recounted all the lurid details he’d been present for. He arranged for her to sleep over without worrying about if he was going to have a breakdown while she was there or not. It was freeing: to not worry about emotional responses, and it did wonders for his focus. Donnie turned into his work without pausing for breaks, aside from making sure that the necessities of life were met. He didn’t even get distracted by video games when Leo tried to lure him out.

“You’ve been in here all day,” Leo complained. “I thought you were going to beat me at Gauntlet of Glory which, by the way, you are not.”

“Upgrading the lair’s security measures takes precedence,” said Donnie

“You can take an hour to fight me in video game form.”

“Why? You seem convinced that you would beat me, and I’m inclined to agree.”

“Are…Are you saying I’m the better player? Who are you and what have you done with Donnie?”

“I think instead of playing fictional fighting games, you might better spend your time training your actual fighting abilities.”

“If you’d left your little den at all today, you’d know that I have been training. Are we playing or not?”

“Or not.”

Leo was quiet for a long, long time. “…Mikey was right, you are acting weird.”

Donnie pushed up his goggles. “I am fine. Whatever Mikey told you was unreliable.”

“Nah, this ain’t normal. Since when do you not want to take me up on a fighting game challenge? Since when do you bother me about training?”

“I’m within functional parameters. Isn’t that satisfactory enough?”

“Donnie, I know you love technology and all, but this ain’t it. Are you replacing your brain with robot parts?”

“No. As I said, I am within functional parameters. If you don’t mind, I have a lot of work I’m behind on.”

Leo did not, however, leave. Maybe Mikey would have. And maybe Raph would have too. But not Leo. Instead, Leo slid across Donnie desk and lounged across his keyboard like a damn cat.

“Okay, Mikey might fall for that crap, but not Leon,” said Leo.

“I really do have work to do.”

“So I can keep you company while you do this allegedly important work.”

“I can’t complete it if you’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I am the distraction master.”

“Very well, if you insist on being this way, there are tasks outside of the lair I can attend to in the meantime.”

Donnie pushed up from his desk and was out the door before Leo could reply. Unfortunately, Leo chased Donnie all the way out into the common room and down one of the exit tunnels.

“Donnie—”

“What?”

“Donnie, will you stop for a moment?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop—walking away from me!”

Leo grabbed Donnie’s hand and he ripped away from his grasp.

“What is with you?” Leo demanded. “Tell me what’s going on or so help me, I’ll annoy you until I find out!”

“You’re really fixated on this.”

“Only cuz you’re making it such an alluring mystery.”

“I’m going to have an exceedingly different time getting work done. Do you realize that my work is advantageous for the whole family unit?”

“Advantageous my ass! What, are you gonna go on another terrible gift giving spree? Program another robot to favour you over your own flesh and blood? Create another coffeepot with a thirst for blood? Talk to me, Dondon. Tell me what’s going on.”

Donnie sighed. Well, he’d have to get rid of Leo. Murder was an option, but Mikey and Raph might get upset about that, so something less drastic would do for a first step. “Alright, but not here.”

Donnie led Leo back into a rear hallway, back to a closet Donnie kept leftover projects and garbage. There was a firm keypad lock installed on the door, to keep out curious brothers, although he guessed that before-Donnie would never have imagined of using it for the reason he was using it. He held the door open for Leo, who waltzed right in with smug confidence that was about to be wiped off his face.

It happened in slow motion. Leo looked behind him, and Donnie slammed the door shut and locked it.

-

Donnie was installing improved motion sensors in one of the entrance tunnels when Raph came and found him some hours later. In that time, his workload had been steady, and his focus was more refined than it had been in weeks, with Leo without of the way, he finished a good portion of the work that needed to be finished.

When Raph came though, Donnie knew why he was really there. Their new lair was much smaller than their old one, sound travelled far, and it was unusual for Leo to stay quiet for any considerable period of time—unless he was plotting something.

Donnie was hovering with his jetpack, and looking down, he could see all the tight creases and folds in Raph’s face. He’d aged in the last few months.

“Hey, Mikey asked me to ask you why you’re acting weird,” said Raph. “Also, have you seen Leo?”

“One, I’m functioning normally,” said Donnie. “Two, he was interrupting my work so I locked him in a closet.”

“Wait, what?”

“He was interrupting my work so I locked him in a—”

“Which closet?”

“My storage closet, the one with the keypad at the end of the hall.”

“Go let him out.”

“I need to finish this.”

Raph grabbed Donnie’s ankle and pulled him down. “Go let him out! NOW, Donnie!”

He was using the ‘Dad’ tone. The one that when they were kids, that made him, Leo, and Mikey jump out of their skins and do what he said, the tone that said he wasn’t messing around. Strangely, Donnie felt nothing except the faint glimmer of what would be annoyance, if it wasn’t based on cold logic first. A few minutes wouldn’t do Leo any harm, and he really needed to get the security measures done.

Raph gave him a slight nudge when he hesitated, and there was no getting out of it. He just hoped that Raph would at least talk some sense into Leo so he could work without distractions.

They reached the storage closet and Donnie opened it without preamble, stepping aside to let Raph in first. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, and listened, committing every word, every slight movement, every perceptible noise that seemed relevant. The meaningful glare Raph gave him when he passed. His older brother’s tightening fist. The huff of uneven breathing coming from within the closet.

“Hey, how long have you been in here?” Raph asked.

A pause.

“Are you alright?”

“Yup!” Leo said. His voice was strained. “Condition normal! Thanks for freeing me, Raph, I thought I was gonna become another one of Donnie’s projects.”

“What happened? Are you okay? Did…Did Donnie hurt you?”

“Do I look beat up to you? I said I’m fine. Look, it’s not a big deal—”

“Leo, we’ve talked about this—”

“Sure.”

“You said you’d give me a heads-up if you were feeling wibbly-wobbly.”

“Is that a scientific term?”

“It’s Raph-certified. What’s wrong?”

Donnie listened to Leo take a few steady breaths. “Don’t freak out, cuz this is a new development, but turns out—dark, cramped, quiet places do not spark joy anymore.”

“Crap. Do you need anything?”

“Salty junk food. I am starving. How long have I been in here? I better not have missed dinner.”

They were coming out. Donnie locked eyes with Leo when he exited, and the look Leo gave him was indescribable. He could’ve interpreted it as hurt, but it was beyond that, beyond betrayal. Leo looked like he’d been crying. Donnie was sure that the emotion-fuelled wreck he’d been just a few days ago would’ve averted his gaze, but new-Donnie held the stare, and Leo was the first to look away.

Raph came out next, and when Donnie found his eyes next, the anger present was equally intense.

“You and I,” Raph said, low and dangeorus, “are having a talk.”

“As long as we can do it while I’m working,” said Donnie. Donnie turned on his heel and walked away.

“Don’t you turn your back on me!”

Raph grabbed the back of Donnie’s Battle Shell and swung him around.

“What is WRONG with you?!” Raph demanded. “Why the hell did you do this?!”

“Leo insisted on bothering me, so I stopped him from bothering me,” said Donnie. “I was going to use tranquilizer darts if he escaped the closet.”

“Donnie, locking someone in a closet isn’t how you deal with Leo being annoying.”

“I don’t understand your reaction, considering we’ve pulled far worse pranks on one another.”

“That was before the Krang invaded. Everyone’s on edge right now.”

“Does that make a difference?”

“We almost died, so yeah, it does.”

“That statement most accurately reflects Leo’s experience. I think the rest of us were a few degrees away from death.”

“Okay, this is a fun conversation,” said Leo. “I’m gonna awkwardly back away.”

“I don’t understand why this seems out of line,” Donnie continued, ignoring Leo.

“Pranks are funny,” said Raph. “This was just mean.”

“Leo seems unharmed.”

“It’s not his body I’m worried about.”

“Hey, guys, wanna watch me walk backwards to the other end of the lair?” Leo called from the end of the tunnel.

“His mental stability is normal,” said Donnie.

“It’s NOT, Donnie!” Raph shouted. “None of us are ‘mentally stable!’”

“Alright. So?”

“…What’dya mean ‘so?’”

“You guys aren’t fine. So what?”

Raph looked flabbergasted. He blinked. Shook his head a little, as if to clear something loose inside his head. His mouth fumbled for a moment around words that didn’t come. “Donnie…you’re gonna have to say that again.”

“I said, so what?”

“So…So what?”

“Yes. I used vernacular commonly used in everyday speech. Is there something you’re not comprehending?”

“Donnie, you just totally threw aside everything going on with this family in a single sentence. I’m sorry if that’s a bit of a shock to me!” Raph massaged his forehead. “‘So what,’ he says. So, we’re your family and we care about family, and we don’t hurt each other when we’re still recovering. That’s just not an okay thing to do.”

“How does locking Leo inside a closet hurt him?”

“Does he look like he had a good time?”

“He’s unharmed.”

“That’s not the point!”

Raph’s fist slammed so hard on the wall that a thin crack erupted from where his closed hand met concrete, snaking up to the ceiling.

“Now I have to fix the wall, too,” said Donnie.

Raph was taking steady breaths, the way he did when he was holding back his rage. Donnie never looked for signs of anger in Raph before, but now that he was detached, he could see that Raph wore his anger at all times. Every day, all the time. Never far apart. Just under the surface, just under control, ready to launch out when Raph needed it most, a signature article of clothing not too dissimilar to the masks the brothers wore.

He remembered why their enemies feared Raph.

Raph sucked in air. “‘Physically unharmed’ isn’t good enough, Donnie. The mind has to be unharmed, too. Locking Leo in a closet causes harm.”

Donnie tilted his head.

“Donnie, do you understand?”

“I suppose so,” said Donnie. “As long as Leo doesn’t interrupt me while I’m working again, I’ll refrain from locking him inside closets.”

“Donnie, that’s not good enough. You gotta say that you’re not gonna do it again, and you gotta apologize to Leo.”

“No.”

“What the hell, Donnie? What’s with you?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that.”

“It’s cuz you’re acting weird. I get that apologizing is tough for you—”

“No it isn’t. I just don’t have a reason to apologize.”

“Find one.”

“If I say I will, can I get back to work?”

“If you apologize, you can do whatever the heck you want so long as it doesn’t involve torturing Leo.”

“It wasn’t torture, it was to get him out of my way.”

Donnie found Leo and Mikey eavesdropping from the end of the hall, one stacked on top of the other. There was a punchline there that Donnie let pass.

“Leo, I’m issuing a standard apology,” said Donnie.

He waited for a response. There was none. Just Leo looking with a critical narrowing of the eyes.

“Donnie, you gotta mean it,” said Raph. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I issued a standard apology,” said Donnie.

“Say you’re sorry, Donnie.”

“It’s fine, Raph, I don’t want it if he doesn’t mean it.” said Leo. He folded his arms. “Take your standard apology and shove it.”

“Back to work then,” said Donnie.

Leo gawked and watched Donnie go. He called, “You could at least pretend to act distraught!”

He didn’t. He felt nothing. Nothing, except the mild buzz of suppressed emotions ravaging his chest cavity, gnawing away all feeling until there was nothing left except mutilated flesh where they used to be.

-

In the dream, his brothers’ limbs were held down by Krang biomatter, and Donnie stood before them, his Battle-Shell gone, long tendrils connecting him to the Krang spaceship. It pierced his spinal column and the pain was so blindingly intense that he almost lost his senses and there was only fear. The Technodrome was whispering inside his head, showing him horrible, violent images of their conquests of other planets.

Leo looked up, his limbs pulled taut by biomatter. He begged, “Don’t do this.”

Donnie just had to think it and the biomatter slid up Leo’s body, sliding just underneath the lip of his shell, and wrenched.

Leo screamed, his organs and blood spilling everywhere. Donnie screamed.

Donnie’s body was no longer a part of him. It thrashed and jolted. It was a seizure. Was he having a seizure? But he was aware, alert. It went on. Screaming. It was endless and in his voice, vibrating all the way from his head to his toes and back again. Again and again, the crack of Leo’s shell opening up like a clamshell. Gore at his feet. Helpless screams of Mikey and Raph, they were getting louder, there was a bar of light stretching across his vision, cutting through the shadow.

“Donnie?! Donnie, what’s wrong? Donnie!”

“What’s happening? Raph, what’s happening?!”

Voices furled in his mind, flowers that retreated from the chill of winter air. His brothers were dead in front of him and it was his fault. It went on forever, an endless torrent. The screech of metal on metal. The Krang digging into his brothers’ bodies, ripping out everything, just gore and violence everywhere. It wouldn’t end, and if it did, it would come back. He didn’t know what was worse: torture happening right in front of him or the knowledge that it would always return.

“What the HELL is going on in here?”

Leo’s disembodied arms grabbed Donnie’s and squeezed tight. He thrashed and fought. The squeeze went gentle.

“Donnie, you’re dreaming.”

Leo’s voice cut through everything. The whispers. The carnage at his feet. It smoothly parted through everything, casting it aside.

Eerything within Donnie fought against being awake. His face was wet and his body ached and it was hard to stay in the cycle. The thrashing in the arm ebbed off, not all at once, but gradual like a sunset. The viscera dried up and dissolved. He was in the dark of his room.

His and Leo’s arms locked tight together, though he could barely tell who it was through the blurriness in his vision. Donnie couldn’t tell what was causing it until he blinked and he realized they were tears. His chest ached. Raph and Leo were at his bedside, while Mikey hovered by the door, looking afraid.

“It was just a dream,” said Leo. “You’re just dreaming.”

Donnie tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent words with no meaning, no weight. Leo took him by the shoulders and laid him back down, pulling the sheets back over his body.

“Did you know he was having these?” Leo asked.

“I had no clue,” said Raph. “I just heard him screaming.”

“Shouldn’t we get him up?” Mikey wondered.

“No, let him rest. I’ll stay with him, you guys can go back to bed.”

“No way am I sleeping now,” said Raph.

Mikey sighed. “I’ll put on the kettle.”

-

Donnie woke up with a black spot in his memory filled with the usual array of terror that followed whenever he went to sleep. He shifted under the covers, only freezing when he heard nearby voices.

“So Dad didn’t hear anything?” That was Leo.

“He took some tranquilizers before going to bed,” said Raph. “Says it’s the only way he gets any sleep these days.”

“Has that been going on since the invasion?”

“He didn’t say, but I think so.”

“Yeesh, I guess he’s in good company. Is there anyone in this family who’s sleeping normally?”

“Nope. C’mon, let’s get some breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Donnie’s not going anywhere, he’s out like a light. You can spare ten minutes to eat something.”

The door closed, the light disappeared. Donnie rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

The numbness was gone. The ability to detach himself from his emotions was gone. Now, he reeled in overwhelming, emotional waves, like his body was catching up to the anguish churning inside of him. Donnie flushed with shame, that his brothers had to step in when he had a nightmare like he was a kid. The whole point was to avoid that. Donnie curled up under the sheets, beaten down by humiliation, terrified that if he moved, he would give away how unbalanced he felt.

He couldn’t live like this. He just couldn’t. He sanity felt stretched as it was, buckling under nonexistent weight. Guilt and fear held him down with powerful hands, digging fingernails into his flesh. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t talk it out. He wouldn’t put that on his family, not when they’d had their own problems, and he doubted anyone would want to listen to him anyway after what he’d done to Leo.

The guilt backhanded him. He’d locked Leo in a closet. It was a small action that rippled out consequences, and he couldn’t forget the faintly haunted look in his brother’s eyes. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t deal with himself, with his emotions, with the way Leo’s betrayed gaze made him feel.

Donnie threw off the sheets and geared up: tech-bō, Battle Shell, mask. He wouldn’t lie here when there was someone who could help.

There was no way he could leave his room without getting spotted, so he pried one of the metal sheets he’d installed over the repurposed subway car’s windows. It was narrow, but he was slight, and it was enough for him to snake through.

His silent feet hit the floor and moved along the tunnel, alert for any of his brothers coming after him. There was none, only the sleepy sounds of them moving around in the kitchen, and when he felt assured he was a safe enough distance away, he bolted for the Hidden City.

-

Uzume’s shop had a closed sign on when he returned, the lights dimmed and the street quiet in the early morning. However, when Donnie rapidly knocked a few times, it opened almost at once.

“Oh, it wore off, didn’t it?” Uzume said. She hung from the rafters like before.

“Can I come in?” Donnie asked.

Uzume held the door open and Donnie surged inside. Frantic and tense, Donnie couldn’t settle down until they were in the backroom, and Uzume’s presence calmed his anxiety into a barely perceptible undercurrent. His skin still prickled, yet at least in the quiet, away from his family, he could gather himself and think clearly.

“You seem upset,” said Uzume. “What happened?”

“I had a…difficult night, and my brothers had to intervene.”

“I see.”

“It was humiliating. How long until you can make the effects permanent?”

“We will need several more sessions.”

“Can we have one now?”

“My, you are impatient.”

“I need it…I need it gone. I need all of this in my head gone. If you need compensation to make it happen, I’ll provide it.”

Uzume regarded him with careful, grim eyes. Her smile spread slow, baring all of her pointed teeth. “Tell me about your brothers.”

Surprised, Donnie pulled his shoulders back, hands curling into fists on his knees. “My brothers?”

“Yes. They’re quite capable, aren’t they? You four have built up quite the reputation in the Hidden City as troublemakers, to say nothing of your unique mystic powers.”

“…It’s a family trait.”

“Oh, but of course! You’re all so talented. I should very much like to meet your brothers.”

“…I’m not sure. They’re kind of…primitive.”

“All the same, they must have something to offer if you associate with them. I’m sure that you could go off on your own and make quite the name for yourself, and yet you haven’t. Why is that?”

His surroundings went blurry.

“Why is that, Donatello?”

Something was wrong. He felt it nagging at his senses. His vision tunneled in on her two fangs, on her yellow teeth and disarming smile.

“I need them,” he whispered.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Uzume hummed. “Your brothers…how are they doing after that whole invasion business?”

“…Not well.”

“No? That’s a shame. I could help them as well if you were to introduce us.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate your abilities the way I do.”

“I could make them appreciate it.”

Uzume’s clawed feet crawled along the rafters, inching closer and closer. Her eyes were dissecting him. Exhaustion rose sharp throughout his whole body, and if it wasn’t for the couch, he was sure he would’ve collapsed, but those eyes—he had to get away from them. Panic hit him. The panic that he’d only experienced in his dreams manifested in front of him. Donnie’s breath quickened and he gulped down air and it wasn’t enough, his body was too heavy to fight it.

“Now lie still,” said Uzume. “And don’t be afraid. Soon, you won’t be afraid of anything.”

Her fingers set on either side of his forehead and the resistance bled out of him, curling up and into Uzume, her black eyes wide and reflective. He could see his face in them, and they were everything.

And then, the curtain parted.

Uzume jumped at the sudden movement, twisting to see who it was. Donnie lay prone on the couch as his brothers squeezed into the room.

“Okay, Donnie, whatever jig you’re jigging is up—” Leo demanded, cutting short on seeing him and Uzume.

Uzume and his brothers had a stare down. Then, he saw the anger flicker back on Leo’s face and he opened his mouth.

“None of that,” said Uzume.

Leo took two long steps, then stopped. Mikey was the first to break, fat tears erupting in his eyes as he doubled over, hands shooting up to claw at his head as if in great pain. Raph and Leo followed, crumpling in a heap.

Leo was sprawled on the floor, reaching for one of his fallen katanas. Uzume swooped down from the ceiling and pulled it away from his outstretched hand. Tears swarmed down his furious face.

“How are you…” Leo said between uncontrolled sniffs.

Uzume picked the katana off of the floor, examining her reflection in the blade. “You four have a collective weight hanging on your shoulders and no idea how to share the burden. It’s a little sad, really.”

Donnie knew he should get up and put a stop to all this, but all wants, all desires purged from his mind, and he simply sat, watching his brothers writhe with sloppy tears on their faces. He felt nothing, there was nothing, it was delightful, it was perfection. Before, the sight of Leo, Mikey, and Raph sobbing would have been enough to put him over the edge, but now, there was nothing except the wide expanse of no emotions and unlimited possibilities.

“What did you do to Donnie?” Leo demanded, voice thick with crying.

“I helped him,” said Uzume. She came up alongside Donnie and cusped his jaw. “What were you doing?”

“What?”

“While he was suffering, what were you doing? Were you watching from the sidelines, laughing about it?”

“Don’t know what you’re…What you’re talking about…”

“Oh, but of course you don’t. If only you’d paid attention, all of this could have been prevented and I would not need to intervene on his behalf.”

“What did you do to him?”

“I took away his pain, and now, I can take away yours as well.”

Uzume gently touched Leo’s head, locking eyes with him. A bit of light seemed to dim from them.

“I’m helping you. Soon you will see that.”

Leo let out a terrible cry Donnie had never heard him make. Uzume shrieked when his hand snapped toward the other katana, snatching it off the ground and spearing it into her wing.

Uzume stumbled back with a pained yell. With tears running hot down Leo’s face, he surged forward and slammed the hilt of the katana into her head. The subtle smell of lavender dissipated fast.

Mikey and Raph were still breathless from crying when they got off the floor. Raph held his stomach tight, Mikey’s legs shook, and only Leo looked steady on his feet, though his hand trembled around his katana. They all stared at Uzume’s unconscious body.

“Well, that’s disappointing,” said Donnie.

“Shut up, Donnie,” Leo snapped. He turned to Raph and Mikey. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Raph. “That was…overwhelming. Just what the hell was that?”

“Some kind of mystic bullshit. Fortunately, it looks like old ol’ head trauma ends the effect.”

Leo went to Donnie and pulled him to his feet.

“We’re leaving, before she wakes up.”

Leo’s tight grip left no room for argument, and Donnie didn’t care enough to protest. Uzume couldn’t do much for him when she was unconscious, anyway, so he let them pull him out into the streets of the Hidden City, and after that there was no stopping.

Raph, Mikey, and Leo were quick and quiet, frogmarching Donnie through the streets even though he offered no resistance. They kept checking over their shoulders as if they expected her to come after them, but Uzume wasn’t an enemy—and even if she was, Donnie doubted she had any interest in a pursuit. His brothers took no chances, and they didn’t stop until they were close to a portal that would take them back to the human world.

Leo held Donnie against the wall, looking him over critically. His eyes were bloodshot.

“Are you hurt?” Leo asked.

“I’m physically unharmed,” said Donnie. “Why?”

“Donnie, who was that and what was she doing?”

“Answer me first: how did you find me?”

“I put a tracking app on your phone,” said Mikey.

“When?”

“When you started acting weird."

“That’s remarkably sneaky of you.”

“Ninjas, man.”

“Now you,” said Leo. “Who was that, Donnie?”

“Her name was Uzume,” said Donnie. “She was suppressing my emotions, and before you accuse her of being a bad guy, she was doing it at my request.”

“Christ, Donnie,” said Raph. “Suppressing emotions is what we call a bad move. Why would you ask her to do that?”

“Why not? They were distracting, and Uzume offered a solution.”

“She was trying to get you wrapped around her finger.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It’s the vibes, Donnie, they were entirely off about her.”

“So?”

“So, that’s bad?”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, we care!”

“Why?”

Raph sucked in a deep breath. “I can barely talk to you when you’re like this. Leo, tag team!”

He and Leo slapped their palms together as Leo took Raph’s place.

“Donnie, you’re not yourself right now, so we’re gonna forgive everything you just said and the garbage you’re going continue to say,” said Leo. “The point is, having your emotions mystically suppressed is a bad call even from the most logical of logical reasons.”

“It sounds far worse than it is. If anything, her treatment was more of a form of…mystic antidepressant.”

Leo just looked confused. “Mystic antidepressant?…Donnie, what did you mean before when you said they were distracting? Why did you do this? Does this have to do with the night terrors?”

Donnie folded his arms. “My reasons are irrelevant. Uzume promised she could permanently suppress my emotions with a few sessions.”

“Damn straight,” said Leo. “What were you thinking, Donnie? Don’t you care that she wanted to suck all the fun right out of you?”

“No. I don’t care at all.”

Leo was quiet for a long, long time. “Is that what you want, Donnie? To not care about anything?”

“It isn’t about that. Uzume’s treatment can control my emotional responses, preventing distorted thinking and general discomfort. Not caring is a side effect.”

“That’s a pretty big side effect, Donnie, and we’re not letting you do this again.”

“That seems counterproductive. How will I get anything done if I’m distracted by feelings?”

“We prefer a Donnie who can feel things than one like…” Leo gestured to all of Donnie. “This.”

“Like what?”

“Like this robot standing in front of me.”

“I’m not a robot, yet. I’m organic.”

Leo shook his head, and Raph stepped in, holding Donnie’s shoulder tight.

“How long until the effects wear off?” Raph asked.

“The last time it was three days,” said Donnie.

“Great, three days of this,” Leo sighed. “Can’t wait.”

“I suppose that gives me three days where I can try to reduce my workload. If I work fast, perhaps I can get the rest of the security system upgrades done before I become incapacitated again.”

“You’re that convinced you’re going to be useless once you start feeling again?”

“Yes.”

Leo massaged his forehead, sucked in a breath, and held Donnie by the shoulders. “Donnie, in a few days, all these pent-up feelings and nightmares you’ve been having are gonna slam into you like a load of bricks. And despite everything, we’re gonna be there to help you through it, even though you are the stupidest genius we know.”

“It would be more practical to allow me to see Uzume again, although she may not be thrilled that you hit her in the head…”

“Absolutely not. Promise us you won’t go back.”

“Promises are empty. I could go out and break it as soon as you turn your back.”

Leo looked at him firmly. “Then I guess we just won’t turn our backs.”

-

It was actually five days of nothing. Longer than last time. Donnie assumed that were he permitted to visit Uzume again, the results could’ve carried him into next week during the third, maybe months during the fourth, forever during the fifth. He tried to perform basic calculations in his head and they were promising, but whenever he talked about going back to Uzume, his brothers shut him down. The results were stronger, as well. Before, he used to feel small twinges of emotions under the surface, but during the second he had the remarkable ability to not really care about anything. Even tending to the security upgrades lost its appeal after a while, it reduced him to spending the days at the whims of his brothers, doing whatever was instructed at him, when it was instructed.

He wondered whether Uzume trying to turn him into her servant, a mindless slave that was useless except for being provided instructions. In theory, he knew it was bad, but he didn’t care. Caring required emotions, emotions which felt forever lost and distant to him, and for a while Donnie wondered if they were ever going to come back to him. If his family would babysit him for the rest of his days, if he’d spent the rest of his existence longing for one more visit to Uzume to keep the emotions at bay for good.

Donnie was never alone—not for a moment. Leo hadn’t been joking. They didn’t turn their backs on him, perhaps not trusting that he would try to make a break for Uzume’s the moment he had the opportunity. To do that, however, he would need to be motivated, and he just…wasn’t. Something inside of him had shifted a few degrees to the wrong direction, making every step he took feel like he was missing a step each time. It didn’t help when Mikey kept trying to run ‘feeling tests’ on him by showing him images of objectively adorable baby animals. They always came up negative, however he kept trying anyway.

Donnie felt it start well before the breakdown came—a mysterious, aching sensation that radiated out from his chest. For a while, he thought it was the first signs of a heart attack, but a few scans told him that his physical functions were normal.

He kept working. If he could just get the security system upgrades done—then at least he’d get one thing, just one thing off his list. The desperation clawed through him, a growing fight-or-flight instinct that put him on edge, sent into an upheaval at the slightest movement or sensation he could perceive from around him.

On the dawn of the sixth day, Donnie couldn’t sleep, and he had to tiptoe around his brothers napping on the floor of his room to sneak out to one of the entrance tunnels. He was installing lasers today to shoot at any potential intruders. Despite trying to stay focused on work, Donnie got up with the intrinsic feeling of something wrong, or something was about to go wrong, without irrefutable proof to back him up. He just knew something wasn’t quite right, like his heart was displaced, or maybe the throbbing migraine he couldn’t shake was the first signs of a stroke.

He passed by Splinter on his way to the entrance tunnel. Their eyes met. Splinter looked like he wanted to say something, but Donnie pulled away and left before he could. Looking at his father made him…uncomfortable? Was that the word? Was that the feeling?

No, he couldn’t. Donnie swallowed it down. Just a little longer. He just wanted a little longer in the blissful nothingness.

Donnie got to work on the lasers. He was installing them behind metal panels on the ceiling, designed to drop and shoot at a moment’s notice. Donnie had barely gotten started when he heard soft footsteps. He blindly reached down for a tool, and Leo was there, passing it to him.

“Nice try,” said Leo.

“I wasn’t sneaking out,” said Donnie.

“Surprising, considering what you pulled last time.”

“Leonardo, I am CLEARLY working on our security systems, not sneaking off to see a witch.”

“Y’know, I never used to have to worry about you doing the latter.”

Donnie rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t give me some space?”

“We’re just making sure you’re not doing anything stupid again.”

“So you don’t trust me?”

“Donnie, I barely trust you even when you have your head on straight. I think you’re only one or two steps away from having your villain arc.”

“Don’t flatter me. If you must hover while I’m working, you could at least pretend to be supportive.”

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t like our emotional-support cheerleading routine.”

“It was campy and unnecessary.”

“I thought it was pretty cool.”

“…It’s not fair.”

“We offered to let you in on the routine, which you refused, and you just said it was ‘campy and unnecessary.’”

“It’s not fair. You guys have your coping mechanisms. Why can’t I have mine?”

Leo was quiet for a long time.

“I was handling things just fine my way, except it wasn’t your way, so that automatically makes it wrong.” Donnie’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t hold the laser cutter steady. He set it down. “Oh, but no, ‘Donnie’s doing something weird again, we better stop him!’ You couldn’t just let me handle things the way I wanted to handle them.”

“You weren’t handling it, Donnie,” said Leo. He didn’t sound angry. His tone was one of forced calm.

“They’re my emotions, Leo! If I want to get rid of them for forever, maybe that’s a decision I want to make! Where my autonomy?! It’s a civil right to decide what medical procedures can be done to you, so why is this different?!”

Leo didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t move for a moment. He waited, and then, “Because doing this hurts you, Donnie, and if it hurts you, then it’s…it’s just wrong.”

“Having Uzume purge my emotions wasn’t hurting me, Leo, it was doing the exact opposite of hurting me. Nothing hurt me when I didn’t have my emotions!”

“Yes, it did, you just don’t realize it.”

“So I’m ignorant?”

“Donnie, no, you know I don’t think that. Your feelings are just having feelings right now, and when feelings have feelings, it creates a lot of feelings.”

“Not only is that a redundant statement, I don’t know what it means!”

“Sorry, I suck at explaining things. Okay, look at it this way—let’s say you don’t have any more emotions. Boom, they’re gone, the crazy bat lady did her mystic thing and they’re gone forever, and you don’t feel a single thing. You don’t feel any of the bad things, but you’re also…you don’t feel any of the good stuff either, no more enjoying Jupiter Jim or fiddling with your tech or…gosh, Donnie, y’know, loving us? That’s a feeling too. Isn’t that a big enough downside? Doesn’t that hurt you as well as the rest of us?”

Donnie didn’t know what to say. It was like it was something he knew intellectually, something that felt obvious and something he was aware of in retrospect, but he’d been so clouded by his own determination that he’d forgotten it until that moment. Ignorant of its existence, the absence of love in his life, until Leo pointed it out.

He turned away from Leo and stared down the wide expanse of the tunnel, the sound of rushing water humming in his ears. Donnie’s shoulders shuddered.

“Donnie, we’re not stopping you from going back to Uzume because we want you to suffer,” said Leo. “We’re doing it because we want you to be okay.”

Donnie lost the battle to not cry, the thing that had been boiling under the surface for weeks. He slapped his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any noise.

Leo kept his distance behind him, waiting. Donnie only retracted his hands when he could trust his voice to stay put in his body.

“You know how you said all those feelings would come back all at once?” Donnie asked in a shaking voice. “I think this is it.”

Leo shuffled his feet. “Well, being sleep-deprived isn’t helping. C’mon, it’s still super early; let’s go back to bed.”

“I have nightmares.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Leo shuffle-walked up to Donnie side. “They’re pretty bad, huh?”

“I dream…I dream about…about the prison dimension, and the Krang. I dream about you all getting tortured and dying. Sometimes I’m the one doing it, and I wake up and I can still taste the blood in my mouth.”

Leo set his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I don’t want to sleep, Leo, that’s how all this started.”

“You can’t not sleep. Trust me, I’ve tried. Listen, I promise it’s gonna be okay, and if you don’t want to go to sleep, fine. Just lie in bed with your eyes open and keep me company. Please?”

Donnie stared at the ground for a while, and it took him a long time to reach for Leo’s hand. His grip was limp as his brother led him back to the tunnel to his room.

Mikey and Raph hadn’t even woken up. Raph was in his sleeping back on the floor, while Mikey’s lay abandoned beside him, and Mikey himself had crawled up to sleep on his rising and falling chest. The lab was quiet and still. The moment they were over the threshold, Donnie felt ashamed of holding onto Leo’s hand so tight and let go to crawl under his sheets. He turned over in bed to face the wall.

“Hey, scooch over,” said Leo.

“It’s my bed,” said Donnie.

“And I no longer wish to sleep on the floor like a filthy peasant. Now scooch.”

Donnie rolled his eyes. He knew that if he put up enough off a fuss, Leo would take the hint and slide into the pile with Mikey and Raph. Instead, Donnie did what he was told. It was still a tight squeeze when Leo piled in, taking up as much room as possible and pressing up against Donnie. However, the slight pressure, pinned between his brother and the wall, didn’t feel…entirely unpleasant.

Donnie had a television mounted at the end of his bed, and at once Leo was searching for the remote under his pillow.

“It’s on the side table,” Donnie drawled.

“I knew that,” said Leo. He flicked through a few channels and landed on Looney Tunes. “Just in time to catch Saturday morning cartoons.”

“Oh, joy, I have always wondered if Elmer Fudd ever caught that rabbit.”

“No, no. Say it properly.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

“No!”

“Say it properly.”

“I will kick you out of here!”

“Say it.”

Donnie sighed, moaned, and kicked Leo in the shins. “That wascally wabbit.”

“Thank you! Finally, a little respect for culture.”

“I’m not doing the laugh.”

Leo giggled like a maniac and turned up the noise enough to be perceptible, and not enough to wake up Raph and Mikey.

They stayed like that through a few episodes. Donnie felt like he was waiting for something, and it felt like Leo was waiting too, but neither of them knew what they were waiting for. There was something that needed to be said that never came. His heart thudded with anxiety, refusing to slow down, and despite feeling exhausted, the mind-numbing fear that another night terror would come strangled him. That he would dream about his brothers getting tortured, about them losing the war, about Raph being mind-controlled, about Mikey turning to ash, about losing everything. About being alone.

He remembered the times before he used to remember his dreams, when there was nothing to fear while he slept unless there was an inherent danger of an attack. Yet he was in the lair, surrounded by his security systems and his family, and there was minimal risk of an ambush. The only things he feared were in his imagination, things that scared him more than facing the Krang had.

There’d been no time for terror while the Krang were there. Now they were gone, for now, and everything felt dangerous.

Donnie turned over. He crammed his head under Leo’s jaw and threw his arm over his chest. Leo blinked and tensed in surprise—just a little—before he curled his arm around Donnie’s shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything for the meaning to be clear. I am here.

Donnie knew that when he woke up again, they would talk. There wasn’t an overnight fix to night terrors. That his brothers would want explanations, and he’d have to throw out maybe a few apologies to ease the guilt.

He fell asleep with Leo beside him, and although there were nightmares, he woke up each time to see Leo with him, whole and alive. It didn’t erase the terror of sleeping, but at least in the waking world, everything was as it should be.